Returning to Ipanema

Ipanema is a place we return to, not because it changes, but because it doesn’t.

Since our first time staying, on a trip with my wife, it’s become a rhythm.

A place that marks time more than trips. We usually come once a year, although with a baby now, this year might be the first pause. Still, Ipanema stays exactly where we left it.

This isn’t a guide to Rio, or even to Ipanema. It’s just a few days that repeat themselves, more or less the same way, every time.

Mornings

Mornings occasionally start early. Not every day, but often enough to make it feel like a ritual rather than a routine.

A run down to Leblon before the beach fills up, when the air is still light and the city feels half-asleep. The stones of the pavement are cool underfoot, the sea is usually calm, and there’s already movement - runners, cyclists, a few swimmers who never seem to miss a day.

Afterwards, açaí. Then back for a shower. By the time we head out again, the beach has woken up properly.

Posto 9

We usually end up at Posto 9. Not because it’s better than anywhere else, but because it feels familiar.

The same stretch of sand, the same faces, the same easy friendliness. The staff remember you, even if it’s been a year. There’s always a smile, always time for a few words.

Umbrellas go up. Chairs are dragged into place. The sand starts to heat up.

People walk past endlessly - families, couples, vendors, runners, dogs.

In the afternoons, groups gather to play futebol, circles forming and dissolving as effortlessly as they started. Someone always joins in, someone always leaves.

The view towards Dois Irmãos never really gets old, no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

The afternoons are slow. A swim. A beer. Shade when the sun gets heavy. A siesta somewhere in between.

Streets Behind the Beach

Away from the sand, Ipanema moves at a different pace. Streets that feel residential one moment, lively the next.

Cafés, bakeries, people sitting outside with nowhere urgent to be.

Nothing here feels forced. It’s one of the reasons we keep coming back. Not much changes over the years, and that’s exactly the point.

Sunset

Every evening, the same quiet build-up.

People begin drifting toward the water’s edge. Phones come out. Conversations pause. The sun drops slowly behind the horizon, usually somewhere between clouds, painting the sky in layers of orange and pink.

Then the applause.

It still catches me off guard every time - spontaneous, collective, sincere. As if everyone has agreed, silently, that this is something worth acknowledging. Sometimes, just after the sun disappears, rays break back through the clouds for a moment, reaching across the sky before fading completely.

The lights of the favela start to flicker on.

Those are the evenings that stay with you.

Nights

After sunset, it’s back for another shower, then out again. The air is warmer now, the streets busier. A relaxed dinner, a drink, walking without any particular destination.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing planned.

Final Thoughts

Ipanema isn’t a place we try to “do”. It’s somewhere we settle into. The days follow the same shape each time - run, beach, shade, sunset, evening - and somehow that repetition never feels boring.

If we don’t make it back this year, I know it will be exactly the same when we return. And that’s why we like it.

I’ve photographed Rio many times, but Ipanema always pulls us back — not for what it offers, but for how it feels.