8.30am on a misty Monday morning. We speed northwards in a one of Rio's compact yellow cabs.
The taxi driver is killing himself laughing at a radio wind-up gag. The presenter is on the phone to an unsuspecting man, apparently an extremely jealous lover who has been set-up by his girlfriend.
The driver's amusement is infectious - you can hear us all giggling. I can't pretend to understand all of it, but hearing an irate man's bleeped swearing is funny in just about any language.
We hit speed bumps. The DJ adds sound effects and the driver then begins to explain the intricacies of the set-up before Alicia Keys hammers home her hit and we speed on.
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