Another time, Spyridon was in Rio. It was in the middle of carnival time. It was stiflingly hot so he decided to take a breath of fresh air on the balcony of his hotel room with a small glass of his favorite drink. It was then that he heard the sounds of the first batucadas coming up from the bottom of the avenue.

The floats were soon under his window and to see all the dancers moving their colored feathers, suddenly gave him the desire to add a touch of fantasy to its refreshment. He descended the stairs four by four, ran to the bar of the establishment and asked the waiter: “algumas folhas de hortelã e uma fatia de limão por favor“ – Spyridon spoke impeccable Portuguese – The waiter gave him his few sheets of mint and its slice of lemon. Spyridon added them to his preparation and went out to dance in the street. He was nowhere to be seen until the next morning.