Forget the Copacabana Palace, the views over Rio's bay from the Rio Sofitel are some of the best in the whole city. And anywhere that Michael Jackson stayed – he laid his head in the penthouse once, which boasts an Essenfelder piano and telescope to boot – can't be bad, right?
Thanks to the glorious panoramas on offer, breakfast can be one of the more frenetic times of the day with guests manoeuvring themselves for one of the best outdoor table spots. We decide the view isn’t going anywhere and head indoors for easier access to the buffet breakfast: guava, pawpaw, figs, kiwi, persimmon, melon, watermelon, mango, and so on. It seems reasonable to drink a caipirinha at breakfast – when in Rio, after all.
This place knows how to do five-star service: the hotel’s beach security staff watch our bags, rinse off our sandy feet, bring extra towels and even coffee and fruit salad. Best of all, they douse the sand by our loungers with water so our feeble English feet can walk on the surrounding sand without scalding our soles faster than you say say Havaianas.
Rio beaches aren’t exactly tranquil getaways. Vendors trudge up and down, cool boxes, charcoal grills and parasols that groan under the weight of dental floss bikinis all in tow. Beach goers flop in red folding chairs before bumping against the giant shoreline waves or further out to sea paddleboarding. All of this is visible from our loungers, but with that rare Copacabana beach commodity of space. To the right of us children play between fishing boats and nets and locals sit on benches in the shade.
We head to the Horse Neck Bar for early eve drinks: weird name, good bar. Both the view and the bar’s outdoor terrace (rattan seats, comfy day beds and sleek white bar stools all somehow work together) and our passion fruit caipirinhas are nearly as deadly as the beachfront ones from the morning. Rio Sofitel clearly starts as it means to go on.
