One of the Most Beautiful Places

        As the International Youth Hostel quickly disappeared behind us, we found ourselves rapidly moving past the blurred streets of Rio de Janiero. Meanwhile, all of us comfortably sat, seemingly fixed in one place. As though seeking to initiate friendly conversation, our jocund guide asked us if we had previously seen the beaches of Rio before, to which we replied proudly that we had spend all of yesterday walking the long lengths of Copacabana, Ipanema, and Leblon by foot.
      He widened his eyes at as, “Oh really? That’s great. That’s really great. It’s wonerful, how much you want to see this amazing city.”
We nodded earnestly in affirmation, agreeing that Rio de Janiero was indeed an amazing city. After a few moments of pensive silence, I broke it to ask him where we were going first. Quickly glancing at the rear view mirror, he told us that we were quickly approaching an incredibly picturesque point near the Two Brothers Mountains, where we were promised to have spectacular views of all three beaches, as it was located near the end of the Leblon stretch of beach.
I nodded, satisfied with the response, as I pressed my face against the cool surface of the window to take in all I could of the new and exotic city of Rio de Janiero, as it seemingly ran past me. 
            When we finally arrived at the supposedly spectacular spot, we were greeted by the pleasant sight of rows of little, colorful stands, each of which was canopied with elegant umbrellas. Outside these little businesses stood formidable piles of solid, juicy, green coconuts. I kept my gaze on the stands for a few moments longer, as a deeply tanned man powerfully hacked off the top of a ripe, yellow-green coconut, inserted a slender, plastic straw within the other half, and promptly offered it to a boiling young woman, who was rapidly fanning herself with a newspaper.

The abrupt noise of stunned gasps and a contented chuckle quickly drew my attention from stands, to where my parents currently stood, when I found that I was suddenly breathless as well.
          Adjacent to these humble businesses, which had so captured my rapt attention for a span of several minutes, was a large, formidable cliff, closely encircled by a sturdy wooden fence to ensure that careless tourists would not stumble backwards.
        As my parents and I gazed down the steep, coppery, stony cliff, we were found ourselves nearly transfixed by the waters that surged, and churned, and foamed beneath us. These weren't just the typical brown or murky black. No, these were a different breed, being a startling azure, which faded to a glimmering bottle green around the jagged rocks. Lush tropical vegetation sprouted up from the sides of the hard, coppery boulders, as if struggling to make themselves appear amidst the spectacular beauty of just the serene waters.
         Once we finally were full to our stomachs with the beauty of the scene, we slowly brought out our cameras, just so that we could prove we were actually here. After all, how easy is it for mere tourists to fathom that they are standing on one of the most beautiful places in the entire world?