Party time

SOPHIE ROBERTS revels in the samba beat for a week of Rio's Carnival

- SOPHIE ROBERTS

MIND the gap. Three words I usually hear on the London Underground. But today, I'm not elbow-barging past stressed commuters.

I step off a cable car in Rio de Janeiro that has taken me to the summit of Sugarloaf mountain. Christ the Redeemer watches from lofty Corcovado in the distance, with arms outstretched.

The sprawling cityscape looks peaceful as the sun sets and boats leave gentle ripples on Botafogo Bay. In a matter of hours, Brazil's second-largest city will be awash with millions of people dancing in the streets.

I take a big breath, an even bigger sip of my caipirinha, and brace myself for the wild week of Carnival that lies ahead.

Six o'clock in the morning isn't usually when I'd go out drinking, but this is a very special occasion.

Street parties, known as blocos, start as soon as the sun's up. So I wipe the sleep from my eyes and get ready for Cordao da Bola Preta.

The famous carnival block, founded in 1918, has become one of the biggest blocos in Rio. It draws in more than a million people each year with its catchy marchinha music and good vibes.

I arrive early and climb on top of a truck that will slowly make its way through Centro, surrounded by hordes of revellers. The name and theme of the bloco is "black ball", which inspires various quirky outfit choices.

Wearing as few clothes as possible helps to negate the scorching heat, which isn't a problem when everyone's so attractive. Ladies don polka dot corsets and men cut see-through circle shapes into their T-shirts.

In spite of the relentless sunshine, a couple in Dalmatian costumes and dog leads crawl along the street. There's also a bloke dressed as Jesus, who gets the crowd going by pumping his fists in the air.

Overlooking the sea of hundreds of thousands of partygoers feels pretty daunting initially. But the driving beat of drums is so hypnotic my hips start moving involuntarily.