Sunday...couldn't have spent it more perfectly. We slept in today, with no real solid plans on the horizon we gave ourselves the luxury, and walked the thirty seconds into town for brunch. Almost everywhere was closed, and the one place we did find open was full of flies which didn't make it seem like the most apetizing place to eat. Once we saw the breakfast spread offered though and how cheap it was, we couldn't resist. We got fresh fruit, fresh guava juice, coffee, a cheese crepe, a tamarind crepe, scrambled eggs, ham and cheese sandwich, and a few different kinds of pastries as well as some kind of coconut jello stuff for around $4USD. Quite the deal. As delicious as the plate of fried carbs was though, I'm happy it's not an everyday deal.
After breakfast, or brunch rather, we put on our suits and headed into the jungle. We walked to the edge of town and then down a few dirt roads until arriving at a trail, and ended up walking for just about an hour before arriving at a swimming hole with a natural water slide. The water was again tea-coloured, apparently it means there a lot of iron in the water, and we spent the afternoon sunning on the hot rocks and diving into the refreshing water. One of the Brazilian guides that was there kept looking my way until he finally winked at me and motioned with his finger for me to go over and talk to him. I just smiled and ignored him.
It is interesting though, traveling with another guy (or up until this morning we were two girls and two guys), everybody without exception thinks we're dating even though there's no physical affection whatsoever. People just assume that two people of the opposite sex traveling together automatically means they're romantically involved. And since Daniel and I bicker all the time, people are even more convinced that they're love disputes. I find it more similiar to sibling squables.
So we spent the day climbing all over the hot rocks, watching a group of Brazilian teenagers flirting. The girls ganged up on one of the boys and pulled his shorts off, leaving him in only his zunga. He seemed quite embarrased to only be wearing a zunga, but didn't put up much a fight when they pulled his shorts off him. There were a few guys showing off and going down the waterslide standing up, reminding me of the Tarzan nintendo game when Tarzan slides down tree branches, almost as if he were surfing or barefoot skiing. It was impressive on nintendo and I never knew until today it was possible to do in real life.
Daniel and I are moving on tonight to head back to the coast, our bus leaves at 11:30. We'll arrive at the halfway point around 4:30 in the morning and catch another bus heading south around 6 in the morning. It'll be a long night but we save money on lodgings and don't lose precious daylight hours on the beach. Lençois is definitely a place I would like to revisit in the future and spend more time here. It's an absolutely magical town.
17 February, 2008
16 February, 2008
A Gem of a Town
It is towns like Lençois that make traveling worth it. It's a jewel, nestled six hours deep in the jungle. Small, safe, friendly people with a bohemian vibe, it's pretty much the perfect place. A place to take a vacation from vacation. As described in the previous post, it's full of narrow, cobblestone streets and pretty, colourful little buildings. Although most people here are Brazilian, there are tons of amazing little restaurants that open up at night with little tables spilling out onto the sidewalk acompanied by guitar music and chatter in all different languages.
Most of the tourists here are very casual, coming mostly to trek in the nearby national park and enjoy the surrounding natural beauty. The restaurants are all the kind that would be considered a jewel of a find in the States. The place we ate last night for dinner was owned by an Israeli/Brazilian Jew who originates from nearby but spent three years in the Israeli army learning how to make bombs, then moved to work at the Israeli consulate in Montevideo for three years, before realizing that small town life was what really made him happy and moving back to Lençois and opening a restaurant. He sat down at the table and chatted with us for a good hour and a half, telling us all about his life and the joys of the simpler life. Even after having traveled the world and seen so much, his greatest ambition is to move back to his father's farm and raise fish. Needless to say, we had a delightful evening on the outdoor patio of the restaurant dining under the wide leaves of a banana tree and listening to Dan, the restaurant owner, tell his tales. Not only towns like these, but nights like those as well, make traveling well worth the trouble.
We woke up bright and early this morning and spent the entire day exploring the surrounding mountains. Our guide, Tiago, spoke only a few words of English so we were all thankful to have Daniel around to translate.
The first stop was a cave where we were the only visitors. It was full of stalactites and stalagmites and the man who took us through carried only a latern. Five mintues into the cave, all light from outside totally disappears. At one point we sat down and he turned off the latern. It was total silence and total dark, a very strange feeling but incredibly relaxing to be 70 meters below the ground and surrounded by total darkness. We played some shadow games against the walls, I at one point "rode a lion". Once we came out the other end, we walked a short distance back to the car and passed a tiny white house on a tiny plot of land along the way. Our guide pointed it out as his house and his land, telling us that his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents all lived their entire lives on that small plot of land but now, after four or five months of droughts, all the animals are starting to die and he's faced with the possibility of having to move in order to give his daughters an education "so they don't have to be guides like him."
Our second stop along the way was a natural swimming hole with crystal clear water the color of saphires. We ziplined into the water from above and for a brief moment I feared for my life. The zipline, not being the best engineered in the world, was quite short and quite steep, and I thought it was a very real possibility that being as light as I am, I might just fail to hit the water at all and go crashing into the other side. Luckily, I hit the water with a splash at the last moment with enough momentum that my bikini bottoms would have come clean off if not for the harness. The water was full of little fish that constantly sucked and nibbled at your skin, a good way to get clean I suppose.
Third on our tour was Morro Pai Inacio. It's basically a big rock, quite a hike to the top, but it provides incredible views of the surrounding plateus and jungles. The breeze was a welcome companion after the hot hike up, and you really feel like you're on top of the world. I wish we could have stayed to watch the sunset there, I'm sure it must be incredible to see.
Our last and final stop was Poco da Diablo, a series of waterfalls spilling into a series of swimming holes, with tea-coloured water. Apparently when slaves used to escape from their owners more than twice, they were thrown over the waterfall into the pool below and left to drown, hence the name "The Devil's Hole". It was a great swim, you could swim all the way over to the waterfall and climb up the rocks, although the falling water stung and it was impossible to see anything with all of it falling into your eyes. I was imagining an anaconda or a crocodile coming up from the depths of the dark water and eating one of us, and Steve, our Canadian travel companion, told me that a doctor warned him never to swim in fresh water in Brazil, only salt water, because of the possibility of getting a parasite. This he shared with me after I dove in. All I can do is cross my fingers.
All the news for now...we'll be here until tomorrow night before heading back to the coast.
Most of the tourists here are very casual, coming mostly to trek in the nearby national park and enjoy the surrounding natural beauty. The restaurants are all the kind that would be considered a jewel of a find in the States. The place we ate last night for dinner was owned by an Israeli/Brazilian Jew who originates from nearby but spent three years in the Israeli army learning how to make bombs, then moved to work at the Israeli consulate in Montevideo for three years, before realizing that small town life was what really made him happy and moving back to Lençois and opening a restaurant. He sat down at the table and chatted with us for a good hour and a half, telling us all about his life and the joys of the simpler life. Even after having traveled the world and seen so much, his greatest ambition is to move back to his father's farm and raise fish. Needless to say, we had a delightful evening on the outdoor patio of the restaurant dining under the wide leaves of a banana tree and listening to Dan, the restaurant owner, tell his tales. Not only towns like these, but nights like those as well, make traveling well worth the trouble.
We woke up bright and early this morning and spent the entire day exploring the surrounding mountains. Our guide, Tiago, spoke only a few words of English so we were all thankful to have Daniel around to translate.
The first stop was a cave where we were the only visitors. It was full of stalactites and stalagmites and the man who took us through carried only a latern. Five mintues into the cave, all light from outside totally disappears. At one point we sat down and he turned off the latern. It was total silence and total dark, a very strange feeling but incredibly relaxing to be 70 meters below the ground and surrounded by total darkness. We played some shadow games against the walls, I at one point "rode a lion". Once we came out the other end, we walked a short distance back to the car and passed a tiny white house on a tiny plot of land along the way. Our guide pointed it out as his house and his land, telling us that his parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents all lived their entire lives on that small plot of land but now, after four or five months of droughts, all the animals are starting to die and he's faced with the possibility of having to move in order to give his daughters an education "so they don't have to be guides like him."
Our second stop along the way was a natural swimming hole with crystal clear water the color of saphires. We ziplined into the water from above and for a brief moment I feared for my life. The zipline, not being the best engineered in the world, was quite short and quite steep, and I thought it was a very real possibility that being as light as I am, I might just fail to hit the water at all and go crashing into the other side. Luckily, I hit the water with a splash at the last moment with enough momentum that my bikini bottoms would have come clean off if not for the harness. The water was full of little fish that constantly sucked and nibbled at your skin, a good way to get clean I suppose.
Third on our tour was Morro Pai Inacio. It's basically a big rock, quite a hike to the top, but it provides incredible views of the surrounding plateus and jungles. The breeze was a welcome companion after the hot hike up, and you really feel like you're on top of the world. I wish we could have stayed to watch the sunset there, I'm sure it must be incredible to see.
Our last and final stop was Poco da Diablo, a series of waterfalls spilling into a series of swimming holes, with tea-coloured water. Apparently when slaves used to escape from their owners more than twice, they were thrown over the waterfall into the pool below and left to drown, hence the name "The Devil's Hole". It was a great swim, you could swim all the way over to the waterfall and climb up the rocks, although the falling water stung and it was impossible to see anything with all of it falling into your eyes. I was imagining an anaconda or a crocodile coming up from the depths of the dark water and eating one of us, and Steve, our Canadian travel companion, told me that a doctor warned him never to swim in fresh water in Brazil, only salt water, because of the possibility of getting a parasite. This he shared with me after I dove in. All I can do is cross my fingers.
All the news for now...we'll be here until tomorrow night before heading back to the coast.
15 February, 2008
The Jewel of Bahia
Salvador...the city raved about as the jewel of Bahia, the heart and soul of Brazilian music, a gleaming gem in tropical waters. I have to disagree. While our stay may have been tainted by not having a lot of cash to throw around and enjoy most of the cuisine and things of the sort that Salvador has to offer, I found it to be too overrun with tourists to really have any authenticity left. The historic center was full of beautiful, colourful colonial buildings, but they were all very obviously recently restored and full of expensive cafes and restaurants, basically catering solely to tourism and nothing else.
The setting of the city was gorgeous, nestled on a tip of the country that juts into the blue/green waters of the Atlantic ocean. With white sand beaches and a warm breeze constantly washing over the city, there's really no room for complaints. My favourite beach we visited was one in Porto do Barra. It was a small cove with warm, calm water and absolutely perfect for swimming.
One of the highlights of my trip so far was during the afternoon we spent at this beach. On one side of the small bay, right next to a lighthouse, there is a stone staircase that goes down into the water. Young boys, around ten years old, were swarming all over it jumping into the ocean and showing off. Daniel and I walked over to jump off, and as soon as I walked down the steps all the boys started chattering to each other in Portuguese and grinning up at me with these wide, mischevious white smiles. One of them reached out and pretended to push me into the water, which I of course shrieked at. That sent them into wild fits of giggles and just then, the same boy wrapped his arms around my waist and jumped into the water, taking me right in with him. As soon as I came up for air, he quickly wrapped his arms around me again and dragged me back to the steps, the whole time shouting to his friends, "eu seu salvavidas!" (I'm the lifeguard!). Once back at the steps, another one of the boys reached his hand down and promptly hoisted my entire self out of the water, only to demonstrate exactly how he wanted me to dive back in and instructing me to follow his example. Their laughter and grins were too cute for words.
I tried one of the typical Bahian delicacies called acaraje, and although interesting, I don't think I'll be purchasing another. It's basically a ball of dough deep fried in palm oil and stuffed with a gooey, orange paste tasting of ocean and fish. Acaraje is topped with small shrimp seasoned with lots of salt and chopped tomato and onion. Basically a fried bomb hitting your stomach and if eaten in the middle of the day at lunchtime, put you right to sleep. But as one of my only variations from a strict diet of ham and cheese sandwiches and mangos, it was not unwelcome. I did think of Katherine and her fetish for fried food while eating it though.
This morning we left Salvador in the company of an Australian girl studying abroad with Daniel in Rio, Zoe, (they randomly bumped into each other at the beach in Salvador) and a Canadian guy she met on the bus called Steve. Zoe won me over when she ate a kilo of mangos in one sitting and Steve won me over because he reminds me a lot of cousin Cata. I won my badge as top negotiator when we got off the bus and were swarmed by people trying to take us to their homes or hostels. They were literally like mosquitos, offering lodgings for R$30. In the end, the four of us ended up in a cute little white house with bright blue trimming with a living room, a bedroom, another random room a table and another mattress on the floor, a kitchen (with a working blender to make fresh juice!!!) and a bathroom off the back. You're probably all imagining it to be much nicer than it really is when in reality it's got dingy cement floors and bare bones furnishing, but it's cheap and comfortable and serves our purpose. And instead of paying the originally quoted R$30, we're each paying 10 a night.
We're in a small town called Lençois right next to a national park that is apparently one of the highlights of the entire country. The town is beautiful, slightly dead, but all cobblestone streets lined with pretty little colourful houses. People are friendly and sincere, unlike people in Salvador trying to take advantage of you constantly. We're nestled about six hours inland in the middle of mountainous jungle and will spend all day tomorrow exploring the surrounding natural beauty.
A capoeira show is starting soon in the town square, so I will now bid farewell. More news from the jungle coming soon...
The setting of the city was gorgeous, nestled on a tip of the country that juts into the blue/green waters of the Atlantic ocean. With white sand beaches and a warm breeze constantly washing over the city, there's really no room for complaints. My favourite beach we visited was one in Porto do Barra. It was a small cove with warm, calm water and absolutely perfect for swimming.
One of the highlights of my trip so far was during the afternoon we spent at this beach. On one side of the small bay, right next to a lighthouse, there is a stone staircase that goes down into the water. Young boys, around ten years old, were swarming all over it jumping into the ocean and showing off. Daniel and I walked over to jump off, and as soon as I walked down the steps all the boys started chattering to each other in Portuguese and grinning up at me with these wide, mischevious white smiles. One of them reached out and pretended to push me into the water, which I of course shrieked at. That sent them into wild fits of giggles and just then, the same boy wrapped his arms around my waist and jumped into the water, taking me right in with him. As soon as I came up for air, he quickly wrapped his arms around me again and dragged me back to the steps, the whole time shouting to his friends, "eu seu salvavidas!" (I'm the lifeguard!). Once back at the steps, another one of the boys reached his hand down and promptly hoisted my entire self out of the water, only to demonstrate exactly how he wanted me to dive back in and instructing me to follow his example. Their laughter and grins were too cute for words.
I tried one of the typical Bahian delicacies called acaraje, and although interesting, I don't think I'll be purchasing another. It's basically a ball of dough deep fried in palm oil and stuffed with a gooey, orange paste tasting of ocean and fish. Acaraje is topped with small shrimp seasoned with lots of salt and chopped tomato and onion. Basically a fried bomb hitting your stomach and if eaten in the middle of the day at lunchtime, put you right to sleep. But as one of my only variations from a strict diet of ham and cheese sandwiches and mangos, it was not unwelcome. I did think of Katherine and her fetish for fried food while eating it though.
This morning we left Salvador in the company of an Australian girl studying abroad with Daniel in Rio, Zoe, (they randomly bumped into each other at the beach in Salvador) and a Canadian guy she met on the bus called Steve. Zoe won me over when she ate a kilo of mangos in one sitting and Steve won me over because he reminds me a lot of cousin Cata. I won my badge as top negotiator when we got off the bus and were swarmed by people trying to take us to their homes or hostels. They were literally like mosquitos, offering lodgings for R$30. In the end, the four of us ended up in a cute little white house with bright blue trimming with a living room, a bedroom, another random room a table and another mattress on the floor, a kitchen (with a working blender to make fresh juice!!!) and a bathroom off the back. You're probably all imagining it to be much nicer than it really is when in reality it's got dingy cement floors and bare bones furnishing, but it's cheap and comfortable and serves our purpose. And instead of paying the originally quoted R$30, we're each paying 10 a night.
We're in a small town called Lençois right next to a national park that is apparently one of the highlights of the entire country. The town is beautiful, slightly dead, but all cobblestone streets lined with pretty little colourful houses. People are friendly and sincere, unlike people in Salvador trying to take advantage of you constantly. We're nestled about six hours inland in the middle of mountainous jungle and will spend all day tomorrow exploring the surrounding natural beauty.
A capoeira show is starting soon in the town square, so I will now bid farewell. More news from the jungle coming soon...
11 February, 2008
Florianópolis to Salvador do Bahia
To make things easier on my wary mind, I'll just continue from where I last left off. We arrived Wednesday mid-day in Florianópolis and all intentions of seeking a hostel to stay in were dashed by our new Uruguayan friend who goes by the name of Chocolate. Chocolate works in the tourism industry and rented us a gritty, grimy apartment void of all comforts for the next four days. There were no glasses, only three mugs, two forks, a spoon and one knife. "Clean" sheets were supplied, but there was a constant unidentified stench coming from what I can only suspect were the linens. But it was cheaper than staying at a hostel and we had our own space to leave our things strewn about.
Aldana and I went to meet up with her Swiss friend and spent the rest of the day lazing around and walking around the city a bit. There's really not that much to see, we were staying in the historic center where everything basically shuts down around 9. We had a beer in the street where the Carnaval parades had been, it was really pretty because there were still shimmering silver papers thread on hundreds of strings hanging overhead.
On Thursday we took our time putzing around and getting things in order and eventually set off for a small town on the other side of Ilha Santa Catarina called Campeche. The day was pretty overcast but warm nonetheless, and we enjoyed walking down the almost deserted beach. I cut my foot on some broken glass because I made the mistake of walking barefoot once we got to the main road, but a quick rinse in the shower of a nearby bar cleaned it right up.
Friday morning our two new Argentine brother friends arrived from Guarda do Embaú and had the brilliant idea of renting a car between the five of us to better explore the island. It ended up being around $15USD each for two days, not bad. We set off to a beach on the southern tip of the island and ended up in a tiny fishing village called Pantano do Sul, or Swam of the South. The beach was gorgeous, a small, sweeping bay encircled by lush green mountins; warm, clear water lapping at the shore completely void of waves. It was understandeably full of younger kids who could swim without their parents having to worry.
We had a brief encounter with a Chilean hippy who told us all his tales of tripping on shrooms. There was a misunderstanding with the Swiss girl who thought he told her he was going to put himself in her abdomen, and then the Chilean was promptly moved along by a horny dog who found his leg to me of utmost interest. We did have a good laugh at his expense...
On Saturday it was a little harder to motivate everyone to drag themselves out of bed. We had been out at a bar the night before until around four in the morning but there was no need to waste the last day on the island sleeping it away. We headed up to the northern tip of the island this time to a beach called Jurere. It's known as the playground of the rich and beautiful and you could definitely tell. Huge mansions lined the shoreline and the picturesque bay looked like something straight out of a Mediterranean fishing village spotted with yachts. In the afternoon we went to a beachside open-air bar/club/lounge/restaurant combo. I, thankfully, did not order anything but everyone else indulged in a chilled beer or a strong caipirinha. When the bill arrived, I was pleased with myself for not having ordered anything, one caipirinha was billed for R$19 (around $10 USD). Keep in mind my budget is so tight I've been living off mostly hot dogs and rice for the past few days.
Yesterday, Sunday, I began the next leg of my journey and flew up to Salvador where I met up with Daniel, a Georgetown student who studied with me last semester in Buenos Aires and is studying in Rio de Janerio this semester. His flight was delayed and didn't arrive until 1:30 in the morning, which gave me five hours to read a Danielle Steele novel I found at the airport from cover to cover. Riveting as I'm sure you can all imagine.
We didn't arrive at our host's place until around 3:30 in the morning. To save money we decided to couch surf, basically a network of travelers who offer up a room or couch or whatever they have available to other travelers for free. All we had was an address and the cab driver had less of an idea where it was than we did. We ended up having to stop at a gas station and got directions from a woman who was hanging out in the parking lot getting drunk with her friends and listening to music playing from the car radio. She ended up just flirting with the cab driver and blasting her stale yeasty alcohol breath all over me in the process.
The cab driver eventually got us to our destination and was so fed up with us that he dropped us off in the middle of a dark parking lot situated in the middle of what, at night, looked pretty much like a ghetto. It was rows and rows of apartment buildings, half of them not marked with any number, and very poorly lit. Daniel and I walked around for about 15 minutes, my heart pounding the entire time thinking someone was going to steal all our belongings from us at gunpoint. As luck was on our side, we ran into the two security guards who roam the premises all night and they helped us get to where we needed to go. Our host, Pedro, was very gracious and didn't mind at all that we arrived so late. He had two other couch surfers staying with him, an Italian girl and a Chilean girl, so we were assigned the spare room with a wooden bed but no mattress. Pedro had piled as many blankets as he had on top of the wooden slats to try and make it sleepable, and I was dreading an awful night's sleep. Surprisingly, and probably due more to exhaustion than anything else, Daniel and I both ended up sleeping pretty well. The trick was just to position protruding bones (shoulders, hips, etc.) in between slats.
Quick sidenote on the Italian girl. I didn't get to meet her because she left really early in the morning but she's 23, owns a hostel in Italy, and apparently has spent the last six months hitchhiking alone from Miami all the way down here. That means down through Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela and Brazil. And she crossed the US/Mexico border with an American cop who stopped to give her a ride. Would have been an interested character to meet...
Daniel and I spent today walking around the historic center of Salvador. Very pretty but also very touristy. We're planning a few day trips to different beaches and islands and then planning on heading south on the journey back to Rio. And no worries, I'm making sure to take lots of pictures!
I sent my love to all, sorry to those of you who have emailed me and I haven't gotten back to...internet time is sparse but I promise once I'm back in BsAs I'll get back on my game.
Aldana and I went to meet up with her Swiss friend and spent the rest of the day lazing around and walking around the city a bit. There's really not that much to see, we were staying in the historic center where everything basically shuts down around 9. We had a beer in the street where the Carnaval parades had been, it was really pretty because there were still shimmering silver papers thread on hundreds of strings hanging overhead.
On Thursday we took our time putzing around and getting things in order and eventually set off for a small town on the other side of Ilha Santa Catarina called Campeche. The day was pretty overcast but warm nonetheless, and we enjoyed walking down the almost deserted beach. I cut my foot on some broken glass because I made the mistake of walking barefoot once we got to the main road, but a quick rinse in the shower of a nearby bar cleaned it right up.
Friday morning our two new Argentine brother friends arrived from Guarda do Embaú and had the brilliant idea of renting a car between the five of us to better explore the island. It ended up being around $15USD each for two days, not bad. We set off to a beach on the southern tip of the island and ended up in a tiny fishing village called Pantano do Sul, or Swam of the South. The beach was gorgeous, a small, sweeping bay encircled by lush green mountins; warm, clear water lapping at the shore completely void of waves. It was understandeably full of younger kids who could swim without their parents having to worry.
We had a brief encounter with a Chilean hippy who told us all his tales of tripping on shrooms. There was a misunderstanding with the Swiss girl who thought he told her he was going to put himself in her abdomen, and then the Chilean was promptly moved along by a horny dog who found his leg to me of utmost interest. We did have a good laugh at his expense...
On Saturday it was a little harder to motivate everyone to drag themselves out of bed. We had been out at a bar the night before until around four in the morning but there was no need to waste the last day on the island sleeping it away. We headed up to the northern tip of the island this time to a beach called Jurere. It's known as the playground of the rich and beautiful and you could definitely tell. Huge mansions lined the shoreline and the picturesque bay looked like something straight out of a Mediterranean fishing village spotted with yachts. In the afternoon we went to a beachside open-air bar/club/lounge/restaurant combo. I, thankfully, did not order anything but everyone else indulged in a chilled beer or a strong caipirinha. When the bill arrived, I was pleased with myself for not having ordered anything, one caipirinha was billed for R$19 (around $10 USD). Keep in mind my budget is so tight I've been living off mostly hot dogs and rice for the past few days.
Yesterday, Sunday, I began the next leg of my journey and flew up to Salvador where I met up with Daniel, a Georgetown student who studied with me last semester in Buenos Aires and is studying in Rio de Janerio this semester. His flight was delayed and didn't arrive until 1:30 in the morning, which gave me five hours to read a Danielle Steele novel I found at the airport from cover to cover. Riveting as I'm sure you can all imagine.
We didn't arrive at our host's place until around 3:30 in the morning. To save money we decided to couch surf, basically a network of travelers who offer up a room or couch or whatever they have available to other travelers for free. All we had was an address and the cab driver had less of an idea where it was than we did. We ended up having to stop at a gas station and got directions from a woman who was hanging out in the parking lot getting drunk with her friends and listening to music playing from the car radio. She ended up just flirting with the cab driver and blasting her stale yeasty alcohol breath all over me in the process.
The cab driver eventually got us to our destination and was so fed up with us that he dropped us off in the middle of a dark parking lot situated in the middle of what, at night, looked pretty much like a ghetto. It was rows and rows of apartment buildings, half of them not marked with any number, and very poorly lit. Daniel and I walked around for about 15 minutes, my heart pounding the entire time thinking someone was going to steal all our belongings from us at gunpoint. As luck was on our side, we ran into the two security guards who roam the premises all night and they helped us get to where we needed to go. Our host, Pedro, was very gracious and didn't mind at all that we arrived so late. He had two other couch surfers staying with him, an Italian girl and a Chilean girl, so we were assigned the spare room with a wooden bed but no mattress. Pedro had piled as many blankets as he had on top of the wooden slats to try and make it sleepable, and I was dreading an awful night's sleep. Surprisingly, and probably due more to exhaustion than anything else, Daniel and I both ended up sleeping pretty well. The trick was just to position protruding bones (shoulders, hips, etc.) in between slats.
Quick sidenote on the Italian girl. I didn't get to meet her because she left really early in the morning but she's 23, owns a hostel in Italy, and apparently has spent the last six months hitchhiking alone from Miami all the way down here. That means down through Mexico, Central America, Colombia, Venezuela and Brazil. And she crossed the US/Mexico border with an American cop who stopped to give her a ride. Would have been an interested character to meet...
Daniel and I spent today walking around the historic center of Salvador. Very pretty but also very touristy. We're planning a few day trips to different beaches and islands and then planning on heading south on the journey back to Rio. And no worries, I'm making sure to take lots of pictures!
I sent my love to all, sorry to those of you who have emailed me and I haven't gotten back to...internet time is sparse but I promise once I'm back in BsAs I'll get back on my game.
07 February, 2008
Guarda do Embaú to Florianópolis
Rosa, being a small town packed with Brazilian druggies, didn't hold our attention for too long. On Tuesday morning we woke up bright and early to bus our way to our next desination, a sleepy fishing village turned hippie about an hour north. We had to take a bus to a town called Garopaba and from there take another bus to Guarda do Embaú. In reality, the second bus leaves you at the edge of the highway in the middle of nowhere and it's a 10km drive to Guarda. Apparently there's a bus that passes by every so often but I think it's a myth because we never saw it. We decided our best bet was to hitchhike into town, and thought it would be easier if we split into pairs, girls vs. boys. Obviously us girls got a ride first (the boys ended up having to take a taxi into town) with a man from a nearby village that sells all sorts of random things to random little stores. We had a 20 minute conversation, none of which I understood and I'm pretty sure we were talking about two different things, but I did catch that he has a Mexican friend. He was very polite and never tried to grope us, but did tell us we were very pretty when he dropped us off.
We spent the night in an apartment with two bedrooms, a kitchen, little living room and bathroom. It was a palace compared to the hostel in Rosa and was half the price. The two brothers we made friends with were meeting up with four female friends of theirs in Guarda, so we went to meet them at the beach. I was pleasantly surprised that four girls from Buenos Aires should be so nice to us...usually they're snotty and don't even glance your way.
There's only one small beach in Guarda, and to reach it you have to cross a little river. You can swim across, and when the tide is low you can walk, but a boy had drowned the day before trying to swim across at high tide and we decided to opt for being rowed across in one of the many colourful fishing boats lined up on the shore. I promise I took pictures of everything and will post them once I'm back in BA. We spent the afternoon at the beach tanning, talking, drinking mate, and playing puzzle games in the sand that the brothers taught me.
On Wednesday morning we left early to come back to Florianopolis and meet up with Aldana's Swiss friend, Judith, who had arrived the night before. As soon as we got off the bus we were approached by a very animted and friendly Uruguayan man who introduced himself as Chocolate. Chocolate offered us an apartment for R$80 a night. We went to see it and even though it's barren, ill-equiped, and smells a little like what I imagine a morgue would smell like, it's still cheaper than a hostel and gave us a safe place to store our belongings. We spent the day putzing around town, seeing the few sights there are to see, and went to have a beer in the evening next to the market. We sat under the remnants of Carnaval, silvery streamers hanging between the buildings over the cobblestone street, and enjoyed a near frozen Skol beer and french fries.
Plans for tomorrow include trying our hand at sand boarding on huge dunes on a beach nearby and then going to the nude gay beach for an eyefull. Apparently there are lots of jungle paths where if you're not careful you can very easily happen upon couples enjoying their natural surroundings.
I send my love to all!
We spent the night in an apartment with two bedrooms, a kitchen, little living room and bathroom. It was a palace compared to the hostel in Rosa and was half the price. The two brothers we made friends with were meeting up with four female friends of theirs in Guarda, so we went to meet them at the beach. I was pleasantly surprised that four girls from Buenos Aires should be so nice to us...usually they're snotty and don't even glance your way.
There's only one small beach in Guarda, and to reach it you have to cross a little river. You can swim across, and when the tide is low you can walk, but a boy had drowned the day before trying to swim across at high tide and we decided to opt for being rowed across in one of the many colourful fishing boats lined up on the shore. I promise I took pictures of everything and will post them once I'm back in BA. We spent the afternoon at the beach tanning, talking, drinking mate, and playing puzzle games in the sand that the brothers taught me.
On Wednesday morning we left early to come back to Florianopolis and meet up with Aldana's Swiss friend, Judith, who had arrived the night before. As soon as we got off the bus we were approached by a very animted and friendly Uruguayan man who introduced himself as Chocolate. Chocolate offered us an apartment for R$80 a night. We went to see it and even though it's barren, ill-equiped, and smells a little like what I imagine a morgue would smell like, it's still cheaper than a hostel and gave us a safe place to store our belongings. We spent the day putzing around town, seeing the few sights there are to see, and went to have a beer in the evening next to the market. We sat under the remnants of Carnaval, silvery streamers hanging between the buildings over the cobblestone street, and enjoyed a near frozen Skol beer and french fries.
Plans for tomorrow include trying our hand at sand boarding on huge dunes on a beach nearby and then going to the nude gay beach for an eyefull. Apparently there are lots of jungle paths where if you're not careful you can very easily happen upon couples enjoying their natural surroundings.
I send my love to all!
04 February, 2008
Praia do Rosa
The first leg of our journey officially began on Saturday. The downpour made me think back to the days when Sister Ursula, my crazy nun teacher at Holy Cross, told me that when it rained it meant god was mad at us and was spitting on the world. God must have been pissed off because I've never seen so much rain in my life. We finally were able to leave on Saturday afternoon, but we were among the last to buy tickets for the bus so they sold us the journey but not the seats. This meant we spent the next six hours slumped in the aisle of a bus while everyone else traveled like royalty in their regular seats. About 5 hours into the journey, a woman made her ten year-old son stand up in the aisle and give me his seat for a while. I almost passed out from exhaustion but thought it would probably be more polite to stay awake and chat with her.
As soon as we stepped foot of the bus the heavens opened up and god started spitting on us with all his power again, so instead of hitchhiking the 7km into town we instead split a cab between the six of us. I couldn't really understand anything the cab driver was saying except at some point they were talking about feijouada, a typical Brazilian black bean dish, and he started to say it's the only black thing he likes and he caught himself and turned around to see if any of us were black and then continued on with his racist conversation. I mention it because I was surprised, I always thought that Brazil, being the country in Latin America with the largest black population, that there would be much less racism here.
The town of Praia do Rosa is small, all dirt roads, nestled in mountainous tropical jungle. All roads lead to the beach, which is about a 15 minute walk from the hostel. The hostel, where four of us girls have been sharing a room with four Brazilian guys and two Argentine guys, is full of drunken and drugged up Brazilians (with the exception of two Argentine guys in our room). Apparently anything you can sniff is popular here, and the guys literally seem crazy out of their minds. I don't know if it's normal or because it's Carnavale, but I definitely have felt much safer having the two Argentine guys in the same room. It's pretty hard to sleep because the druggies are drunk and high from 6 in the afternoon until around 10 in the morning and coming in and out of the room, slamming the door, talking loudly and turning on the lights all the time, but slowly I've started to become a heavier sleeper.
The two guys from Buenos Aires quickly befriended us, being six girls and the only other people who speak Spanish. The nightlife is pretty chill here, lots of reggae and samba music and the smell of weed floating in the air is a constant. The beach is a long stretch of fine, white sand curved around a cold, blue ocean. I would say it's a tad bit warmer than lake Michigan, but when the breeze dies down and the tropical Brazilian sun is pounding down on my back, it's a great feeling to get in the water. I've become an avid analyzer of the different kinds of "zungas", the tiny men's swimwear that is so common here, and I'm becoming an expert on which colours, styles, fits, and fabrics are most attractive. Thick fabric is key, otherwise they tend to be quite revealing in terms of countours...
As I'm currently being charged for use of the internet, a whopping R$6 (about $4USD) an hour, I will cut this post off here and leave the rest to your imaginations. I'll try and keep up over the next few days, I'm trying to take lots of pictures to post when I get back to Buenos Aires. For now I'll leave you all with the image of an ever-more bronzed me lying on the beach sipping coconut milk right from the coconut...
Quick sidenote for any Spanish speakers, my accent is starting to mutate uncontrollably! It's getting more Argnetine and I can't help it. Sometimes my tongue gets all tied because it doesn't understand what's happening. We'll see how much longer I can hold out.
As soon as we stepped foot of the bus the heavens opened up and god started spitting on us with all his power again, so instead of hitchhiking the 7km into town we instead split a cab between the six of us. I couldn't really understand anything the cab driver was saying except at some point they were talking about feijouada, a typical Brazilian black bean dish, and he started to say it's the only black thing he likes and he caught himself and turned around to see if any of us were black and then continued on with his racist conversation. I mention it because I was surprised, I always thought that Brazil, being the country in Latin America with the largest black population, that there would be much less racism here.
The town of Praia do Rosa is small, all dirt roads, nestled in mountainous tropical jungle. All roads lead to the beach, which is about a 15 minute walk from the hostel. The hostel, where four of us girls have been sharing a room with four Brazilian guys and two Argentine guys, is full of drunken and drugged up Brazilians (with the exception of two Argentine guys in our room). Apparently anything you can sniff is popular here, and the guys literally seem crazy out of their minds. I don't know if it's normal or because it's Carnavale, but I definitely have felt much safer having the two Argentine guys in the same room. It's pretty hard to sleep because the druggies are drunk and high from 6 in the afternoon until around 10 in the morning and coming in and out of the room, slamming the door, talking loudly and turning on the lights all the time, but slowly I've started to become a heavier sleeper.
The two guys from Buenos Aires quickly befriended us, being six girls and the only other people who speak Spanish. The nightlife is pretty chill here, lots of reggae and samba music and the smell of weed floating in the air is a constant. The beach is a long stretch of fine, white sand curved around a cold, blue ocean. I would say it's a tad bit warmer than lake Michigan, but when the breeze dies down and the tropical Brazilian sun is pounding down on my back, it's a great feeling to get in the water. I've become an avid analyzer of the different kinds of "zungas", the tiny men's swimwear that is so common here, and I'm becoming an expert on which colours, styles, fits, and fabrics are most attractive. Thick fabric is key, otherwise they tend to be quite revealing in terms of countours...
As I'm currently being charged for use of the internet, a whopping R$6 (about $4USD) an hour, I will cut this post off here and leave the rest to your imaginations. I'll try and keep up over the next few days, I'm trying to take lots of pictures to post when I get back to Buenos Aires. For now I'll leave you all with the image of an ever-more bronzed me lying on the beach sipping coconut milk right from the coconut...
Quick sidenote for any Spanish speakers, my accent is starting to mutate uncontrollably! It's getting more Argnetine and I can't help it. Sometimes my tongue gets all tied because it doesn't understand what's happening. We'll see how much longer I can hold out.
02 February, 2008
Oysters for Beginners / Ostras para principiantes
The sun finally peeked out from behind the clouds yesterday and we were able to hit the beach for AN ENTIRE HOUR before the sun disappeared again. That one hour was definitely worth it though, we got a little taste of what's to come for the next month. The beach was full of beautifully sculpted men wearing their litle "zungas". Zungas are what Brazilians men wear as bathing suits, they aren't speedos but they're tight little shorts, almost like boxer briefs. Most of the guys can definitely pull them off after buffing and tanning (and they all do), but there were a few cases where I could have done without seeing that. Although our vantage point may have been a little better than average because we were stationed right next to a gay bar on the beach. Plenty of eye candy. The beach we went to is right next to a nude beach, separated by a rocky trail. We were going to head over and check it out but we got cold and headed home.
On our way back, we stopped at some dunes to watch some sand boarders. It's basically the same concept as snowboarding, only in a bathing suit and on sand. Most of them were pretty good but a few wiped out and I'm sure got really painful sand burns. Aldana and I jumped down the steepest doon and felt like moon-jumpers, but once we got to the other side of the dunes it was amazing. You couldn't hear anything but the breeze and it was like a whole different world. It made me think of "The Land Before Time" movie. Because of all the rain, there were all these mini lakes surrounding the dunes and beyond that just the ocean.
To thank our gracious hosts for the hospitality, Aldana and I decided to make them a Mexican dinner. We made a big bowl of shrimp cocktail and steak tacos with salsa and guacamole. They loved everything and Gaby's dad put on an old Mexican bolero record he had. Their aunt had brought over a ton of fresh oysters and mussels that had to be eaten otherwise they would go bad, so I had more shellfish than I've ever had in one sitting. They eat them boiled and then sprinkled with lime juice here, weirded me out a little at first but it was actually really good. The mussels have this wiry hairy stuff sprouting out of them, which Gaby's father prompty told me was their pubic hair and then he proceeded to open up a shell, spreading the mussel apart and asking Aldana if it reminded her of anything in particular. Graphic pictures to come... Although it was the first night of Carnavale, we didn't end up going out. The beer kept flowing and Gaby's dad spent the whole night telling dirty jokes with a big grin on his face.
Aldana and I are leaving in about an hour for Praia do Rosa. It's a two hour bus ride then we have to take a little rowboat across a river to get there. Once there, we don't actually have a place to stay yet, so our plan is to wander the streets like homeless beggars looking for a place to stay until we can negotiate a good enough price with someone to rent a house. I have faith that we won't be stranded on the street for the night.
Now I must be off, I have to have breakfast and shower and gather my belongings so we can move onto the next leg of our journey. Happy Carnavale to all!
P.S. Again, the bilingual section for this post will be limited to just the title...not enough time. My apologies.
On our way back, we stopped at some dunes to watch some sand boarders. It's basically the same concept as snowboarding, only in a bathing suit and on sand. Most of them were pretty good but a few wiped out and I'm sure got really painful sand burns. Aldana and I jumped down the steepest doon and felt like moon-jumpers, but once we got to the other side of the dunes it was amazing. You couldn't hear anything but the breeze and it was like a whole different world. It made me think of "The Land Before Time" movie. Because of all the rain, there were all these mini lakes surrounding the dunes and beyond that just the ocean.
To thank our gracious hosts for the hospitality, Aldana and I decided to make them a Mexican dinner. We made a big bowl of shrimp cocktail and steak tacos with salsa and guacamole. They loved everything and Gaby's dad put on an old Mexican bolero record he had. Their aunt had brought over a ton of fresh oysters and mussels that had to be eaten otherwise they would go bad, so I had more shellfish than I've ever had in one sitting. They eat them boiled and then sprinkled with lime juice here, weirded me out a little at first but it was actually really good. The mussels have this wiry hairy stuff sprouting out of them, which Gaby's father prompty told me was their pubic hair and then he proceeded to open up a shell, spreading the mussel apart and asking Aldana if it reminded her of anything in particular. Graphic pictures to come... Although it was the first night of Carnavale, we didn't end up going out. The beer kept flowing and Gaby's dad spent the whole night telling dirty jokes with a big grin on his face.
Aldana and I are leaving in about an hour for Praia do Rosa. It's a two hour bus ride then we have to take a little rowboat across a river to get there. Once there, we don't actually have a place to stay yet, so our plan is to wander the streets like homeless beggars looking for a place to stay until we can negotiate a good enough price with someone to rent a house. I have faith that we won't be stranded on the street for the night.
Now I must be off, I have to have breakfast and shower and gather my belongings so we can move onto the next leg of our journey. Happy Carnavale to all!
P.S. Again, the bilingual section for this post will be limited to just the title...not enough time. My apologies.
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