City Slicker; Rio de Janeiro
Independent, The (London), Jan 30, 1996 by louise levene

Thursday is the 22nd anniversary of the arrest of Great Train Robber Ronald Biggs in Rio de Janeiro. To mark the occasion, we offer a visitor's guide to Brazil's carnival city

Best Revolving Restaurant: La Tour on R Santa Luzia. Diners are lined up Last Supper-style to face windows that display the full panorama of Rio from the 34th floor. The food is a bit jumbo-avocado-with-prawns, but the view is spectacular. Resign yourself to dining in empty restaurants if you like to eat before 10pm.

Best Saturday lunch: Available everywhere, the feijoada completa (Middlesbrough footballer Juninho's favourite food) is the Brazilian answer to the running buffet. Various black cauldrons filled with black beans, smoked sausage and steaming bits of pig's ear are lined up on a side table. You eat as much as you possibly can and wash it down with raw rum (aguardente). Eating shellfish would be foolhardy, if you want to live to collect your pension.

What to do should the restaurant be raided: Brazilian ladies like to order soup as a first course as it provides a useful hiding place for your engagement ring should there be a hold-up. Don't lose your head and order consomme, and make sure you are adept at slipping your bracelets into the bisque - life is cheap and trigger-fingers can be twitchy.

Best soft drink: Street traders, on the tiled promenades of Copacabana and Ipanema, will hack the top off a coconut with a machete so you can sip the milk through a straw. A lot safer than drinking water and much, much nicer.

Diarrhoea remedy: You will avoid ice cubes, tap water, unwashed fruit and shellfish. You will never eat food in the street without washing your hands first, yet you will still spend rather more time in the bathroom than you had planned. This is why Imodium was invented.

Beachwear: You will be charmed at the sight of free-and-easy Brazilian beachcombers, walking barefoot and empty-handed along Avenue Atlantica wearing nothing but a small thong. Mere exhibitionism, you might think, but the real reason is more sinister: carry so much as a towel and it will be stolen the instant you turn your back. The constant threat of theft is a nuisance, but almost universal light-fingeredness is understandable in a city plagued by unimaginable poverty. Eighteen per cent of Brazilians have never even been to school. Get good insurance cover and have your traveller's cheque numbers tattooed on your chest. The best idea is to stick a few Reals in your cleavage and carry nothing.

Best Traveller's cheques: American Express. Corny but true. Traveller's cheques often get a poor exchange rate but that's the price you pay for peace of mind. Mind you, hard cash has its advantages: as in the rest of South America, the yankee dollar is very welcome.

Souvenirs: Dinky little plaster models of old Rio housefronts, armadillo baskets (armadillo not included), hammocks, semi-precious stones. The best and cheapest gift is a set of bolas, the gaucho weapon made of three clay balls on strings (although customs here can be a bit iffy about these). Meanwhile, beach traders sell jazzy cotton shorts, T-shirts and small pieces of string purporting to be bikini bottoms. These look very nice on 17-year-old girls from Ipanema but it may not be a look that travels. Bargain remorselessly.

National Sport: Taxi-haggling. Taxi meters, when working, register Taxi Units, not the amount due (galloping inflation made this a nonsense). The fare is calculated from a printed sheet converting units into Reals. It sounds simple. It isn't. The meter may be "broken", it may be fixed on too high a tariff, you may wonder why you keep going past the same churrascaria over and over again. Argue patiently. Keep reminding yourself that you are a bloated millionaire in his eyes and that you are on holiday.