Ride-Along in Rio Offers Terrorizing Start to Day

I don’t drive in Rio. Actually, I had a car once, but it was stolen. It was probably the best thing that could have happened.

Driving in this city of 6 million people is not for everyone. Rio has a unique combination of geography and attitude that makes commuting a test of wits, nerve and faith.

Seen from above, Rio winds and twists among big hills that loom up all over. Most streets are one-way and poorly marked. A wrong turn can send you into a favela, gang-ridden hillside slums where outsiders can quickly find themselves in trouble.

Rio residents are famous for their zest for life, and it carries over into their driving. Cars should be fun, the reasoning goes. Drivers swoop in and out, speed away from stoplights and pass wherever they can squeeze through--and sometimes where they can’t.

So I don’t drive. But still I have to take a taxi to work, which is also an adventure.

Zooming out of the Santa Barbara tunnel, we approach a battlefield of giant potholes between mounds of sand and torn-up asphalt that is the road leading to the Associated Press office. It’s part of a municipal works project that has blocked streets and snarled traffic across Rio for months.

The taxi driver starts to veer left, but a tailgating dump truck is faster, kicking into fourth gear and cutting him off. A bus hurtles by on the right, doing at least 70 mph.

The spot brings back memories.

Two months ago, I was watching from the office window when a bus careened out of control right here and crashed into the base of the overpass. The driver, three passengers and a beggar napping on the sidewalk died. Bloodstains are still on the ground.

We reach the office, and I turn to an American friend who has shared the cab. Earlier, he asked the inevitable question: “How come you don’t have a car?”

“Now do you understand?” I say.