Recife, Brazil

 
Ten years ago Recife wasn’t very high on many vacation lists. Declared the fourth least desirable place to live in the world by a Washington poll, this architecturally underwhelming city, located in the Brazilian nordeste, boasted a crime rate that made Johannesburg blush and an urban beach (Boa Viagem) fringed by ugly, high-rise buildings and populated by killer sharks.

Luckily, things have improved. The sharks and skyscrapers are still there, but the police and local council have worked hard to clean up the city’s image and draw attention to its canal-and-bridge charms with an optimistic sobriquet: the Brazilian Venice.

Situated on the tropical coast and built at the confluence of the Beberibe and Capibaribe rivers – both fun to try and pronounce after a couple of caipirinhas – Recife still serves as a major Brazilian port. Originally settled by the Dutch in 1624, Recife was their main base for twenty years until the Portuguese ejected them and took control.

The mix of Portuguese, native Indians and African slaves made Recife one of the most culturally diverse cities in the world and the charismatic old town – called Recife Antigo – still has many remnants from this colonial past in the shape of colourful buildings, old theatres and impressive forts; it even has the oldest synagogue in the Americas, the Kahal zur Israel on pretty Bom Jesus street.

Not that there was much chance to inspect the city too closely, arriving as we did slap-bang in the middle of carnaval. The sight of a million Brazilians squeezed into colourful shorts and bikinis, gyrating along the city’s narrow bridges was, well…distracting. And that’s before we spotted the fifty-foot papier-mache cockerel.

Recife’s carnival works slightly differently to the more famous but more commercialised events in bigger cities such as Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo. There’s a lower nipple-tassel count for one, and instead of taking place in a huge, seated Sambadrome, Recife’s annual shindig happens in the streets, giving it a more inclusive, communal atmosphere that’s enhanced by the overwhelming presence of the trio electricos (immense carnival trucks) and foliões (parading bands).

The music is different too. The mix of African, native Indian and European cultures manifests itself through a kaleidoscope of traditional styles like frevo - a cheerful, dance-driven march, derived from polka, that’s accompanied by dancers with small, colourful parasols, or maracatu nação, a dramatic percussion orchestra that has its roots in the slave hierarchies. Add to this coco de roda, afoxé, baião, ciranda – plus a slew of international sounds, and you have one eminently upbeat and danceable party.

Strategically placed stages showcased local acts from Recife and the associated state of Pernambuco. It was through these live performances that we discovered the local mangue beat scene, a heady cocktail of trad music mixed with international influences such as punk, funk, hip hop and drum & bass. Some of the bands - Nação Zumbi, Mundo Livre, Otto, DJ Dolores – are already internationally known, which is no surprise given they play some of the most innovative Brazilian music since the 70s tropicalistas.

After a couple of days awkwardly imitating local dance routines (the caipirinhas certainly helped) and sampling some of the gorgeous nordestino cuisine (even the food has musical names: carne do sol, vatapá, feijoada) it was time to check out Olinda, a pretty UNESCO heritage site just a fifteen-minute taxi ride away from Recife.

Olinda boasts the biggest concentration of colonial architecture anywhere in Brazil, most of it located along impossibly tiny cobbled streets that run up and down hills, creating an intimate allure that’s way different to the urban excesses of Recife. Of course it was carnaval here too, but with a slightly different flavour - and much more manageable dimensions.

On Saturday morning, we found out what the giant papier-mache ‘chicken’ was all about: it was in fact the famed ‘Galo da Madrugada’ (‘Rooster of the Early Morning’), a symbol of the final carnaval party, which traditionally takes place near the São José district. This is the celebration to end all celebrations, the last big blow out before normal life resumes. Over a million people turned up to sing and sway beneath the burning tropical sun.

Being tourists, we had of course peaked way too early. After just two hours of jumping, hugging and shouting we beat a hasty retreat to Boa Viagem. Despite the tower blocks and shark-infested waters, it still felt like paradise to relax in the blazing sunshine, sip milk from a coconut husk and listen to the thunder of the batucada, the roar of the trucks and the chants of the people, all reassuringly far away...