Aritro Sarkar in front of the Maracana stadium in Rio

Aritro Sarkar, a Class IX student of DPS Megacity, was on a dream trip to the land of Ronaldo and Neymar, where few speak English. But then football fever has no language...

The whole Brazil team stared at us, along with a message: Welcome to Brazil.

We had just landed at Sao Paulo’s Guarulhos airport, and were greeted by Neymar and Co., albeit from hoardings. Our driver turned out to be a typical Brazilian. Warm, friendly, welcoming, and always smiling, but didn’t understand English. She pointed to a direction guide on the highway. It was named after Ayrton Senna, the legendary Formula One champion who died in a crash in 1994. I learnt two things about Brazil: Senna is extremely respected here, and no one spoke English.

Welcome to Brazil, indeed.

The next day we went to the Corinthians-Itaquera stadium, by Metro, which soon became our lifeline. After a couple of line changes, we were there. The stadium looked majestic from outside.

We had a great time in Sao Paulo. And before the big kick-off on June 12, we had covered a lot of places. My favourite was Liberdade, which is the Japanese community in Sao Paulo, and the biggest outside Japan. It felt like somebody had plucked me out of Sao Paulo and placed me in Tokyo.

We went to the Parque do Ibirapuera, which is a sprawling green area in the middle of the city. Apart from walking, jogging, and skating tracks, there were quite a few museums within the park as well.

I was told that a trip to Sao Paulo is incomplete without two things: Estadio do Morumbi and the grave of Ayrton Senna. We went to both.

Senna’s resting place was easy to miss. His headstone was nondescript, only a ribbon around the headstone indicated that this was special. A bare tree, with a few pale pink flowers still defying the stiff winter breeze, stood over Senna’s resting place.

Morumbi, home to Sao Paulo Football Club, is a majestic stadium. It is known around the world because of its atmosphere. We went inside and stood among the rows of red chairs in the gallery. I could not believe I was inside the famous Morumbi stadium in Brazil. Appropriately, it was situated on Jules Rimet Avenue.

On the afternoon of the big kick-off, mom and I joined the sea of yellow proceeding towards Anhangabau, where the Fifa fan fest was happening. I was in my newest acquisition, a Brazil T-shirt, and I was feeling like a Brazilian.

The fan zone was a party — food, football, drinks, singing and dancing. By the time the match kicked off, there was no space to move. Or, to get a proper view of the game on the giant screen. So, after 10 minutes, we came out. And as we settled ourselves in front of a TV in a restaurant, the unthinkable happened: Croatia took the lead! But then Neymar restored parity, and the hosts won 3-1. The atmosphere was just superb. Even the Eden Gardens is nothing compared to a fan zone.

Next day, we took the bus to Rio de Janeiro, reaching just in time to catch The Netherlands massacre Spain.

We visited the Paris Saint-Germain academy and then went to Estadio do Maracana, the venue for the World Cup final. For a few seconds, I could not believe I was standing in front of the Maracana. This was the venue of the Maracanazo, when Uruguay defeated Brazil in the 1950 World Cup Final, the venue where Pele scored his 1,000th career goal. This was the Mecca of world football, and I was standing in front of it. Oh God!

I was still in disbelief 24 hours later, as we walked down the Copacabana and Ipanema beaches. The fitness of Brazilians amazed me. I saw a 75-year-old juggling a football on the beach, and doing it better than 20-year-olds. The Brazilians enjoy sport, and it showed.

Christ the Redeemer was next on our list. There was a long queue of fans from participating nations. We stood in that line for an hour and a half, before we got to the top. It was awesome. You could see every point in Rio from here.

Our last day in Rio was spent on top of Sugarloaf Mountain, on a cloudy and cold day. The cable car ride to the top was great fun. It was there that we saw Spain lose to Chile and crash out.

Next day, we were back at Anhangabau in Sao Paulo, this time witnessing England crash out, after losing to Uruguay. The English fans around us were heartbroken. A few hours later, we were at Guarulhos airport for our flight back.

Back in Calcutta, life goes on. School has resumed, but writing about the fortnight in Brazil is really making me miss that country. Who am I supporting? After all the love and welcome the host nation has given me, and me falling in love with Brazil, isn’t it a no-brainer that I support the same team that stared at me from the hoardings on Ayrton Senna highway?