Rio de Janeiro Reports

All you do is take the metro to station central.

You go out of the station to the street level at the central train (supervia) station.

There are little ladies with signs that say tim.

You ask them for cadastro sim and tell them you don't have a CPF.

They will sell you chips with their cpf for 10 reais.

Vivo is better but tim is fine.

[QUOTE=Vagabundo1;2633924]You can get registered (no need for cpf) sim cards at central metro / train station for 10 reais.

Add credits if you need them at any kiosk or pharmacy.[/QUOTE]

It has been months since I have been to VM, but I found this good writing by a local, Dante.

[URL]https://oslibertinos.com/2021/10/29/os-paralelepipedos-da-vila-mimosa/[/URL]

The cobblestones of Vila Mimosa.

Date: 10/29/21.

Author: Dante.

0 comments.

No one knows exactly where on the road the detour took the detour downhill. Decay is not a voluntary option, it is an intimate, deep and nebulous disagreement. Decay is entangled in a cocoon.

I can't remember why I pulled my car from my way home that night to visit the most famous prostitution spot in Rio. Boredom, curiosity, lust. Any of these reasons would explain my impulse or, probably, all of them.

Vila Mimosa, Rio de Janeiro's low-income area, has always been an urban legend for me, a place about which I heard reckless stories, which brought me images of wanton women walking half-naked in the open; land of violent ruffians, murders, drug dealers and addicts. All this in a region close to the city center. As you passed by Praça the Bandeira, it was difficult to imagine such an exotic street, wedged between branches of trains, hovering in a parallel universe that borders the imperial São Cristóvão.

You cross an accidental portal created by the line of rails that bridge the asphalt and lead to Rua Ceará. Above this small railway crack, the arch that makes the entrance to the Zone is drawn. It would not be surprising to find there the phrase that Dante Alighieri read on the threshold of Hell: "Give up all hope, ye that enter."

At night, the vision is of shadows and ghosts of shadows that prepared us to immerse ourselves in another dimension. I park the car, get out and step on the cobblestones of Vila Mimosa. A melancholy silence reigned along with the shy, pale light that trickled down some sections of the walls and passed out morbidly on the stone floor. I keep walking and see a precarious, gloomy-looking two-story house on which hangs a sign: "Hotel Canário." I turn into another lane, on the right, and I begin to see a party of colorful sparkles in the distance, glimmers blurred by a faint mist rising from the sidewalks.

As I dip into the festive hubbub, I notice the wave of smoke rising from a multitude of barbecue grills dotted around the corners of the gutters. The noise also became more deafening with each step into the eye of the hurricane; loudspeakers screamed in an uneven, chaotic, suffocating symphony. I open up a brief valley of almost ruined houses and the first association I make with the vision that unfolded before my eyes is of a post-war landscape. I felt like walking over the wreckage of a battle, an Armageddon scene.

Everything reflected chaos! The faces, the voices, the smells. The dirt covered the rats' traffic; the strong lamps revealed vacuum-molded faces; armed men roamed immodestly, as if they were in a caboclo western; prostitutes, with little or no clothing, wandered from one point to another, aimlessly; the demons hid in the half-light of the cubicles where paid sex was consummated. I discovered that Hell is not an abstraction, it exists, it is real. Lucifer is the amalgamation of men and women who have been led to give up their dignity. The Zone is the model of Hell.

Halfway down the street, I saw three galleries opening up between the shacks, I entered one of them. The working girls watched me curiously, as if recognizing a foreign element within the Zone's veins. My eyes glimpsed them with the fascination of someone who witnesses myths disintegrate in the shock with reality.

I exuded excitement, the underground vibe had seduced me. My presence drew attention, my type should not be common in that environment. Being in the Zone made me realize how unimaginable it was to anyone listening to its abstract definitions. Making it concrete, knowing it, contaminates us with a naked truth so pure that it is almost unbearable. To look inside the Zone is to run the risk of emancipating the secrets we carry chained in our basements.

At the end of one of the galleries, I noticed a pretty black woman staring at me with a greater intensity than any other woman I've come across. It was she who awakened in me the attraction that made me anchor and want her approach. And she came. We didn't exchange many words, she just said she wanted me. I, held hostage by an almost hypnotic magnetism, nodded and let myself be led. We climbed a narrow snail-shaped staircase and locked ourselves in a tiny room, a dark cell where there was only a single bed covered with a threadbare sheet.

The black woman, recklessly, kissed my mouth as she undressed me. I was sweating with lust, my body was on fire with its own libido. She got rid of the meager cloths that covered her most private parts and glued her torso next to mine, both of them naked. A pleasure I have never known almost made me feel unreasonable. She starts to lick my belly and slide towards my sex. The urge to moan, to scream invaded me, my body writhed in uncontrollable spasms. I have never experienced such a violent orgasm, everything in me was silent, I was speechless.

Before we said goodbye, she stroked my hair, was dazzled by the blond hue flowing through her ebony hands. Our language was almost limited to looks and sighs. I revealed myself through touches and she accepted me through kisses. Words were little needed, love is consummated by intuition.

I needed to leave, for time made that prison an illusion of delight. Without my asking, she reveals her name to me: Lara.

Then he asks me what he should call me. In that instant, the impasse that I had carried throughout my life was dissolved. By saying my name, I confessed to a condition that I asphyxiated with prejudice, it freed me.

– My name is Ariadne – finally the flower of my essence bloomed without the fear of self-discrimination.

Lara touches my breasts with delicate lips, I get dressed and leave her.

Little by little, I get away from that cauldron of vices, depravities and existential decomposition. With high heels on her feet, she tried to keep her balance on the cobblestones that form the streets of Vila Mimosa. Perhaps, soul is the name we give to this peculiar ability to balance on the small stone islands that float between abysses. Entering the portal of Hell makes the spirit know one of the halves of existence, finding the exit door is what makes us human.

My grandmother was the one who baptized me, and she used to tell me that Theseus' mission was to annihilate the Minotaur, but that his soul resided in that ball of yarn that rescued him from the labyrinth. I stop philosophizing, get in the car and accelerate towards the light.

[QUOTE=Vagabundo1;2635559]All you do is take the metro to station central.

You go out of the station to the street level at the central train (supervia) station.

There are little ladies with signs that say tim.

You ask them for cadastro sim and tell them you don't have a CPF.

They will sell you chips with their cpf for 10 reais.

Vivo is better but tim is fine.[/QUOTE]Haha, I did not read the instruction carefully so I thought it was Uruguiana station at Centro before I knew there was a Centro station. There is a Tim lady stand there that will do the same too. I even worked out a deal to keep the sim alive for a year for are $80.

I did venture to Centro station a few times after that because there are a bunch of street food stands that open very late at night in front of the colectivos.

Regarding entry in Rio. I arrived tonight. I left Europe with several documents. EU vaccination certificate, antigen test, EU covidtest certificate, Anvisa Health Declaration and a UK locator form (transit in London). All documents were necessary for me to check in bak home.

In Rio they only checked my passport. Nothing else. Funny though the Brazilians had to line up to show anvisa forms. No line at all at immigration. After I landed in Rio it was just a very short while before I picked a taxi at a bargain price in the arrivals section.

Went to Amerilinho Cinelandia to have a late dinner. The place is reformed, found 1921. Great food, very cheap and cold chopps. Lots of flirting girls. Unfortunately the majority with giant horse asses. Leaves to Caerá tomorrow.

[QUOTE=Sperto;2635831]...Went to Amerilinho Cinelandia to have a late dinner. The place is reformed, found 1921. Great food, very cheap and cold chopps....[/QUOTE]I was banking on this place to stay open on one Monday holiday when almost all places were closed because I had a dinner date. They told me they would open until midnight but they were ready to close after 8 or 9 PM.

Black guy looking for a barbershop. Any suggestions? I'll be in the Centro area. Thanks.

[QUOTE=Jrealyo;2636473]Black guy looking for a barbershop. Any suggestions? I'll be in the Centro area. Thanks.[/QUOTE]Just wander into any random one. Price should be around 50 reais.

Thank you.

[QUOTE=MrEnternational;2636476]Just wander into any random one. Price should be around 50 reais.[/QUOTE]

[QUOTE=Jrealyo;2636473]Black guy looking for a barbershop. Any suggestions? I'll be in the Centro area. Thanks.[/QUOTE]Edificio Central, Rio Branco 156, subsolo (downstairs). Old school barber shop.

Vagabundo woke up and took the 11 h20 to centro and went to tdm33 2106, where Camila works. Camila has big tits. She is 20. She has no kids. For 50 reais, you get 20 minutes. I jumped on the rack, she hopped up and got between my legs and sucked, we 69 d a bit, then we did the ole in and out and I blew a load. I took the 309 bak for a nap.

I then took the 17 h20 bus to centro and went to darkroom. There is a hot af new little blond named may. Omfg. Cute as a button. I banged her twice in the hour for 140, tipped the little Natalia queen look a like 20. Such a hot little number.

Then I reconned over to 116. I had some fries. I then rousted one of the usual suspects for a BBFS 40 minute fuck for 100 reais. We met when she was butt ass naked coming down from some other client. I grabbed her, said vamos transar. We got a basement room, which just says romance. I bent her over, we bumped peepees, and life was good.

I got a uber back to barra. Hot af brunette waiting for a uber gave me her number, she is from sao Paulo. Life is good. She quoted me 400. Since I had shot off 4 loads and she is here until Tuesday / terca, I will save that one. By the way, there are obvious hot af hooker types in the lobby all the time. The death of Transamerica as the world's greatest sex motel is like mark twains death, over advertised.

[QUOTE=Vagabundo1;2635785]My grandmother was the one who baptized me, and she used to tell me that Theseus' mission was to annihilate the Minotaur, but that his soul resided in that ball of yarn that rescued him from the labyrinth. I stop philosophizing, get in the car and accelerate towards the light.[/QUOTE]Often quite good but often quite over-baked.

Brazilian Supreme Court to require vaccinations to enter the country. Smart move!!

[URL]https://flip.it/lPuDsV[/URL]

Works for me. Coming for a month in mid Jan. Will be boosted up and ready to go?

[QUOTE=Anaggie;2637049]Brazilian Supreme Court to require vaccinations to enter the country. Smart move!!

[URL]https://flip.it/lPuDsV[/URL][/QUOTE]

I am doing a pernoite with 4 girls.

Ah the literary club of Rio mongers awakes.

[QUOTE=ZebraStripes81;2636987]Often quite good but often quite over-baked.[/QUOTE]