Sex on the Beach

Brasilian motels are a world apart from motels in the United States. They are not the roadside diner trope of so many films, with a terrace of rooms at the back of a car park and a psychopath at the front desk. Brasilian motels are sex motels. An everyday feature of the urban landscape, and as common as bus stops and cash machines, they come in all shapes and sizes. Bavarian castle. Modernist bungalow. Hacienda ranch. Renaissance villa. All tastes are catered for in a celebration of kitsch pastiche. The lack of privacy in small apartments, make them a necessity, and strolling to the local motel on a lazy Sunday afternoon is as normal as taking a walk in the park. Top-end luxury motels boast saunas, jacuzzi, circular water beds and hidden entrances for those engaged in clandestine affairs. Others however are less salubrious like the wonderfully named, Chateau Beach Hotel. Offering discount hourly rates and nestled on the seafront between two tall apartment blocks, it has somehow managed to evade the accidental fires of property speculators. I have never actually seen anyone go in or come out, but I can easily imagine from its unsettling façade that unspeakable things have happened in the shower.