Vá com Deus

In Brazil, a brutalist skyline set against tropical greenery pulses with life. My first stop on a whirlwind tour of the country’s south coast starts at Hotel Fasano São Paolo. With interiors designed by Marcio Kogan, the hotel immediately feels warm and inviting, a world away from the bustle outside. The 21st-floor marble-encased pool is a 1920s Art Deco dream that overlooks the city. As I recline in one of the Hans Wegner chairs, it is hard to pull myself away to explore.

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A leisurely 30 minute walk away is the MASP gallery, which has a truly breathtaking collection ranging from Guerrilla Girls to Botticelli. A particular highlight was seeing Family Style alumni Puppies Puppies’ sculpture amidst the “Historias LGBTQIA+” exhibition. Following a quick stop at the newly opened Soho House São Paolo, dinner is served at Fasano. Deliciously dry and dirty martini’s, boatloads of bread, snow-crab salad, tuna carpaccio, and a rather special Chianti tops off the day and topples us over into bed without much effort.

After a much needed facial in Fasano’s spa, I continue to explore São Paolo, taking on the famous Avenida Paulista. Armed with takeaway Caipirinha’s, I tackle the beating sun and fall headfirst into the street music. The colorful stalls tempt us into even more colourful purchases. Weary and slightly plagued with buyers’ guilt, we check into the L’Hotel Porto Bay, a stone’s throw away from the busy Avenida but somehow surprisingly peaceful. Dinner is courtesy of Jiquitaia, possibly my favorite meal in São Paolo, and features sweetcorn and shrimp soup amuse-bouche, fried fish, spicy papaya salad. and whole grilled fish. 

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Next is the Rosewood São Paolo. From the gorgeous bookshop-cum-snug of the lobby to the Regina Silveira tapestry rugs that follow the circumference of the foyer, the property is a true love letter to Brazil. The hotel is overflowing with the artworks of Brazilian artists curated by Marc Pottier. These do not just adorn the walls of the corridors or hang delicately from the ceilings but they’ve also been woven into the very bones of the building—such as the intricate golden leaves by Laura Vinci. 

In the hotel’s restaurant, Fernando de La Rocque’s humanoid white-and-blue tiles are a beautiful tribute to the history of the hotel grounds as a former maternity hospital. Sprawling sketches by Virgílio Neto fill the rooftop Bela Vista Bar with tributes to Brazilian history, folklore, and the staff who keep the hotel running. Outside, a pool echoes the Bonito river, surrounded by native fauna and bungalows decorated with traditional ornaments. The sprawling grounds include a  rooftop pool, three restaurants, two bars, a bridal suite, and even its very own chapel complete with both priest and rabbi options. 

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Our unsurprisingly glorious final dinner in São Paolo takes place in Blaise, the restaurant named after Blaise Cendrars and built in the style of his imaginary forest chalet. Seared scallops are dressed to perfection, the recommendation of the giant grilled shrimp are not to be missed. A measure of culinary greatness for me, is the quality of french fries, and Blaise did indeed deliver. Next, dirty martinis at the hotel’s speakeasy rival some of the best I’ve had. 

Sadly, and far too soon, it is time to leave behind my new found homes and move onward to Rio de Janeiro, where the Fairmont Hotel uniquely straddles both Copacabana and Ipanema beach. A towering ode to ‘50s glamor nestled on the shoreline, offering views across the Atlantic in an understated contemporary setting. The Marine Restô offers Brazilian Josper charcoal-grilled dishes and local wines. I opt for Pirarucu belly, a fish found in the Amazon, paired with cashew rice and salsa, followed by the açai-and-mango sorbet. After spending the day enjoying so much, the ice cold, poolside, coconuts give me much needed rest and hydration.

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One of the most captivating takeaways of the trip has to be the true melting pot of its people. Music vibrates through my chest, and the air is filled with the sweet tang of limes, a haze of flavored cigarettes, and the smoky aroma of grilled meat—quintessential components of Rio's weekly street reverie. Truly everybody, all races, ages, genders, squeeze into a rather small cul-de-sac enjoying the music and the energy.