How soaring over Rio forced me to finally let go
Chapter 23: Passion, perspective and the power of surrender
Welcome to Chapter 23 of Love at First Flight, my solo round-the-world travel memoir.
In this chapter, I’m in Rio, the city of caipirinhas, samba and… hang-gliding, apparently.
Before I could change my mind, we were running. Off the wooden platform, away from the mountainside, into thin air. The hang-glider caught a wind current and suddenly we were floating between earth and sky. My head spun for a moment as Rio spread out like a glittering map below.
Two days earlier, I'd been preparing to sleep on a hostel floor. Now here I was, soaring above one of the world's most beautiful cities, completely free, with nothing but air beneath my feet.
No room in the city
I had 24 hours to find somewhere to sleep in Rio, or I'd be homeless.
After nine months of solo travel, I'd grown used to solving problems on my own. But sitting on my hostel bunk bed, my online searches turning up nothing but 'fully booked' messages, I felt more exposed than ever.
The holiday weekend booking frenzy had caught me off guard. Every room and bed in the city was taken. Seeing my panicked face, the hostel staff suggested I sleep on the floor of their reception until I found somewhere to go.
With no other options, I was preparing to accept the floor. Until I remembered the scrap of paper buried in my backpack.
A lifeline from a stranger
A couple of weeks earlier in Chile, I'd struck up a conversation with someone on the airport transfer bus. When I mentioned Rio was next on my list, he scribbled down the contact details of a friend, saying: "Contact Zara if you get stuck."
Now, frantically digging through my bag, I found his crumpled note and sent an SOS message to Zara.
She responded quickly: "Sure! I have a spare room. You're welcome to stay here."
Relief flooded through me. As I’d learned on my travels, often help appears when you need it most. I started packing.
A bohemian sanctuary
Zara's house was tangled high up in the trees of Rio’s Santa Teresa neighbourhood. Opening the door was a woman with greying plaited hair and a yellow maxi dress. Zara was warm, open and charmingly disorganised.
"I arrived here thirty years ago with a plan to spend six months exploring South America," she told me over dinner. "Then Rio happened. This city doesn’t let you go. I still haven’t seen any of the other countries," she laughed.
Her son Bruno rolled his eyes affectionately, saying: "She loves telling that story." Then he turned serious: "Rio’s great but you need to be careful here. Only carry essentials. Some neighbourhoods you’ll need to avoid after dark. It can be dangerous if you're not smart about it."
I made a mental note to be cautious. But at least now I had somewhere to stay and I liked it here.
Reaching the crown
In the privacy of my new room, I caught up with my online chakra course. As I'd travelled around the world, our lessons had progressed through all seven energy centres.
Now, just a few stops before home, we'd reached the final one: the crown chakra, at the top of the head.
"This one's about transcendence," said our teacher. "Moving beyond your individual worries to see the bigger picture."
When it’s balanced, she said, we experience bliss and unity with everything around us, seeing life from a higher perspective.
I smiled, realising I was about to take that literally. With friends from the hostel, I'd booked a hang-gliding session, despite being afraid of heights.
Anyway, that was in a couple of days. First it was time to explore the neighbourhood.
Stories carved in stone
Rio de Janeiro is a place where every street corner holds a story, every wall a memory.
Close to Zara's home, a mural marked where people died two years earlier after one of Rio's iconic yellow trams crashed.
The brakes on an overcrowded tram failed while descending this steep hill. Until the very last moment, the driver stayed in the vehicle, shouting for his passengers to jump out. Six people died, including the driver, but his actions saved potentially dozens more.
On the boundary between Santa Teresa and Lapa are the famous Selarón Steps. An artist named Jorge Selarón had covered these steps with colourful tiles, some painted by him, others donated by visitors. This personal project soon became a tourist favourite. Every day, the artist was there, polishing the tiles and chatting with people passing by. One morning, only months before I arrived, Selarón was found dead on the stairs that had become his life's work.
I was beginning to understand what Zara meant about Rio never letting you go. This city demands you feel everything.
City samba
That evening, Bruno took me further into Lapa to see its famous bohemian nightlife. Remembering his warnings, I clutched my bag tightly.
"We're almost there," said Bruno with a grin.
Turning a corner, we saw crowds of people spilling into the streets. They didn't seem to have a care in the world except drinking caipirinhas and dancing to the live music.
Samba tunes wafted around us. One club had a queue snaking down the road. Couples kissed intensely like they’d never see each other again.
I thought about the last time I’d been kissed like that. The lovers I’d likely never see again. How wonderful it would be to share my adventures with someone.
Walking back to Zara's house under the deepening violet sky, Rio's electric energy crackled inside me. Tomorrow's leap of faith awaited.
Soaring above it all
Heading up the mountain with my friends from the hostel, I was buzzing with nervous energy for the hang-gliding adventure.
The instructor assigned us each a tandem pilot and explained:
"It's simple: run fast, trust the process and enjoy the ride."
Simple? Right, I thought, as I watched others launch themselves into thin air. Eventually, it was my turn.
Standing on the wooden platform, knees trembling, my pilot strapped me in. Looking at the city far below made me dizzy, so I fixed my gaze on the horizon. Gripping the frame tightly, I tried my hardest to trust the process.
"Ready?" he asked.
I nodded unconvincingly. There was no turning back.
We ran across the platform and suddenly there was no more ground. My terror faded when I realised we were floating.
Below us stretched a tapestry of blues and greens - large hotel pools surrounded by sculpted gardens. Then we swooped towards Rio's favelas: thousands of small buildings clinging to the hills. Far beyond, Christ the Redeemer watched over everything, a luminous white figure radiating serene calm.
I was part of the air, the light, the endless sky. Every fear I'd carried melted into freedom. Even our bumpy landing on the beach didn't fully bring me back down to earth.
A new perspective
It was my last day at Zara's house. Something told me to rest in my room for a while. If I'd learned anything from my experience yesterday, it was to trust the process.
Sitting on my bed in this Santa Teresa sanctuary, I thought about everything. My fear of homelessness, of flying, of dangerous streets. The passionate couples and my relationship break-up that had triggered this whole trip.
Emotion filled my chest, expanding it. For so long I'd protected myself from feeling vulnerable. Tears fell as the barrier I'd built around my heart finally shattered.
After a while, my mind cleared. With a deep breath, peace settled over me. It moved down my body, replacing the shell that had kept me safe for so long.
I was exposed now and could get hurt, I knew it. But this openness was my strength. Like Rio, I could feel everything now.
I was ready for the next step of my journey.
If you liked this article, give it a ❤️! I'm Claire, and every week I share revealing travel stories and practical guidance to help you change your life or simply book your next adventure.
What destination has had the most unexpected impact on you? Have you ever done something terrifying that changed your perspective? Let me know in the comments!
Next week, I share what starting a travel blog in 2013 taught me about showing up in a noisy world.
Beautiful 🥰 it must have been such a special feeling, to be soaring in the sky like that.