Sunday, November 16, 2008

Sheila's Top Ten Tips for Travel in Bahia, Brazil


 Should you go to Brazil? Should you get off the beaten path and visit Arraial D'Ajuda, Cumuruxatiba, Corumbau, Caraiva, Espelho, Trancoso, Santo Andre, Belmonte? Should you stay in a pousada rather than a resort?  I was evaluating all these things for myself, and came up with my top ten list of things a potential visitor should consider.  My advice probably won't hold true in some other places in Brazil, but it may provide a template for questions to ask.

  1. If you don't speak Portuguese, pick a pousada where the owner speaks your language, and get a "transfer" (taxi) from the airport to the place you'll be staying.  Find a pousada that is walking distance to places to eat, if you don't want to deal with having to find a taxi.  Note that most Brazilians speak only Portuguese.
  2. Don't rely on your US or UK ATM card working.  Sometimes it will; often times it won't.  Travellers checks are also not widely used.  Bring Brazilian reais with you.  You can find the exchange rate on xe.com and order money online if you're in the US. (It arrives by Federal Express from Travelex, and someone over 18 must sign for the cash.)  You'll need plenty of 2 real notes (about $1) to give to porters for tips.  Other service (usually 10% is included in the bill.  One great thing about pousadas is that you can just order drinks and it goes on the invisible tab, to be settled at the end of your stay.
  3. Travel with only what you can carry.  Ditch the evening dress and high heels.  Bikinis are worn by all shapes and sizes, and shorts and t-shirts are the most common attire for morning, noon and evening. You probably won't have anywhere to wash your clothes, so keep in mind that white clothes get dirty very quickly around sand! Note also, that voltage varies in Brazil.  In Rio, for example, it's 110; in Bahia, it's 220.
  4. Bring plenty of sunblock and bug spray.  When it's very windy, there are few insects, but if you're susceptible to bites, use something like Buggspray TM, particularly at dawn and dusk (between 5:30 and 6:30 morning and evening.). I had expected to experience no-see-ums, but none seem to exist at this time of year on this coast.
  5. Go to Brazil in off season if you want to find some of the best weather and no crowds.  Avoid June and July (the rainy season) and avoid from December through March (after Carnival/Easter).  October/November and April/May are good times to consider--though no one can guarantee the weather.  If it rains, you have to be self-sufficient.  The part of Bahia we visited would probably not be a great place for kids, but check out hiddenpousadasbrazil.com for other possibilities.
  6. Don't go off the beaten track if you're susceptible to illness, or are taking medication.  You may find that there are no doctors at all.  Pharmacists prescribe and sell all kinds of medications, but they're unlikely to check whether what they recommend is compatible with your medical situation.  I strongly advise getting insurance for a trip like this.
  7. Hire a car only if a) you're fluent in Portuguese or b) you don't mind getting lost, navigating bumps, bicycles or scooters or c) you relish the challenge of sand/dirt roads with no signposts.
  8. Be prepared to go with the flow.  Rooms are likely to be clean and fairly basic. (Remember, they usually also cost very little.)  Commonly, there's only one cold tap in the sink. Most of the time there's hot water in the shower (no bath), but not always. Hair dryers are rarely provided, so looking beautiful may be a challenge.  If any of those things bother you, or if you want tennis or golf or major water sports, you'd probably be much happier at a resort.  Of course, you probably wouldn't see the real Brazil...
  9. Make this a vacation, not an alternative work venue.  Sometimes the internet works; often it doesn't, or is interrupted mid-stream.  Plus, it's really hard to work when an idyllic beach is 50 yards away and you're sitting in a deck chair.
  10. Consider the services of someone like Alison McGowan, who can customize a trip for you, and also accompany you.  Alison's role as travel interpreter allows you to take a trip off the beaten path and still have peace of mind.  You won't get lost, even in the most remote locations, you can discover places of local interest, and see the authentic Brazil that few tourists experience.  A travel interpreter is there when you need her, even to to interpret at evening meals, and inconspicuous when you want to be by yourselves.  You can find Alison at HiddenPousadasBrazil.com

Saturday, November 15, 2008

Reflections on the Hidden Pousada Trip to Bahia, Brazil


I came to Brazil with expectations of a beach holiday, and to help my twin sister, Alison McGowan, evaluate hidden pousadas for the American and European market.  It became so much more that that.  After 40 years of being apart, since Alison lives in Brazil and I live in the US, it was a wonderful opportunity to reconnect, while appreciating Alison's extraordinary knowledge of her adopted country.  On this trip, we have been places and seen things that virtually no foreign tourists have ever experienced.  We have met fellow travellers, with interesting lives and recommendations based on their own travels.  And, we've been privileged to see a totally unspoiled part of the world, where life is vibrant, yet slower.  Daniel, at Pousada Mata N'Ativa in Trancoso said it best when asked why his prices were so low.  He explained that it was more important for his guests to appreciate his pousada and its amazing gardens and details, rather than to make money.  At a time when the global economy is in crisis, that attitude seems remarkably sane.  Today is November 4, 2008, and tonight we will know who the next President of the United States will be. I haven't watched television or seen a newspaper or answered my cell phone in two weeks.  I am totally relaxed.

Last Day in Bahia, Brazil



This has been the trip of a lifetime, with Alison McGowan as organizer, guide and intrepid problem solver.  I started writing early about our last day at Pousada Victor Hugo in Santo Andre.  The weather was unusually grey and overcast, and--for the first time--very humid. Somehow the sand was different, too.  The morning walk felt as if we were climbing sand dunes, our feet plunging inches down with every step. But as I wrote, and thought, and listened to the birds in this idyllic place, the wind decided to provide one last perfect day. 

Everyone needs a "virtual" place to which they can retreat in times of stress.  An unspoiled beach on the northeast coast of Brazil will always be mine.

End of the Road: From Santo Andre to Belmonte



Once again, the day commenced with a long walk on a deserted beach with perfect blue skies.  The wind picked up from the northeast, ensuring another clear day.  Alison's pousada interview with owner, Hugo, encouraged us to take a trip along the road north, before going to a recommended restaurant on the ocean nearby for more peixe frito (fried fish).

I had looked at the map with some curiosity.  From Santo Andre, there is a 55 kilometer "yellow" road north.  That meant asphalt, albeit with irregular speed bumps in some most unexpected places.  According to the map, the road ends at a town called Belmonte, located where a large river meets the ocean. No towns or villages are marked in between.  Why is the road asphalt, when so many roads here are dirt and sand?  What else is up there?  Hugo enlightened us.  Belmonte used to be one of the largest coffee producing towns in Brazil--in the 19th century, and it was still a vibrant place until the 1940's, when a plague hit the coffee plantations.  The business never recovered.  But Belmonte is hardly a ghost town.  It's as if the original fishing village has just absorbed and encroached on the extraordinary colonial architecture.  Ruins of by-gone grandeur, some derelict, some painted in garish colors, stand side by side with fishermen's cottages, the squares and promenades curiously deserted. Between Belmonte and Santo Andre is lone long sandy beach, along which there is virtually no development. (We heard that the Nestle family still vacations there.)  Until CVC discovers this stretch of coast--unfortunately already beginning--this is the place to find certain solitude in a gorgeous setting.

On the way back, we stopped at Maria Nilze's restaurant, just a few kilometers north of our pousada.  The protocol here is to order, then lie on the beach or in a hammock, while your food is being prepared.  An hour or so later, you enjoy fresh fried fish and rice, this time prepared with succulent root vegetables.  Delicious, and enough to last us all day.  Prices are not cheap--about $25 per entree, but what most people know when they first come to Brazil is that portions are usually designed for two people sharing.  Tip:  bring a friend with the same culinary tastes.  I've been very careful with the water here (don't drink the tap water), but I've eaten everything, including salads, with no ill effects.  Perhaps I've just been lucky.

Friday, November 14, 2008

Weather Surprises in Trancoso, Brazil



The pousada Mata N'Ativa has an extensive array of DVDs in English to borrow, so Alison and I decided to take advantage of the opportunity to watch The Illusionist, which we both enjoyed.  Watching a tv set reminds me that I haven't missed this activity at all: two weeks out of contact with the woes of the world has something to recommend it.  Half an hour after returning to my room, I thought I heard the sound of a bug getting squashed in a zapper.  Since I'm susceptible to bug bites, I checked out the situation, only to discover that the sound I heard was rain on cocoa leaves.  During the day--and in fact for the past two weeks--it's been blue skies and sunshine without a cloud in sight.  So it was somewhat strange to find a storm appearing out of nowhere and continuing all night long.  The surprise was not so much that the weather turned, but that it didn't turn at all.  The rain stopped at 6:30am, when Alison and I walked up to the Trancoso quadrangle, where 16th century houses line the perimeter.  I left the pousada without my usual sunblock and sunglasses, because the sky was still grey.  Five minutes later, it was bright sunshine and blue skies.  So much for making assumptions.

It was hard to leave this pousada, but we needed to get to Santo Andre, which is located on a road that leads from Porto Seguro to, well, nowhere.  We were encouraged, despite the night's rain to take the short cut from Trancoso to Arraial D'Ajuda, and from there to take the balsa (ferry) to Porto Seguro. This was to be followed by another balso to Santo Andre.  I think we've really got the hang of the dirt roads and ubiquitous speed bumps, which I announce loudly to Alison so we don't fly over them.  Of course, we're only doing about 25 miles an hour, so it's not really a problem.

From Porto Seguro north, the road is asphalt and passes large numbers of resorts, often catering to the ever-present CVC crowds in yellow buses. One look at the resorts tells us that we made the right decision to go the pousada route.  It would be totally possible to have a British or American experience on the beach, without ever knowing that you were in Brazil--except for the fact that almost all the tourists are Brazilian.  This part of the world has definitely not been discovered by foreigners.  Once again my US ATM card didn't work, so I'm completely reliant on Alison.  I think she believes I'll pay her back.

We had expected the Victor Hugo pousada to be close to the balsa, given that the directions ended there.  Not true.  It's about six kilometres down the road, and totally off the beaten track.  The pousada is right on the beach, with a very attractive restaurant set among hibiscus plants and thatchd roofs.  It's lovely here at all times of the day, but particularly when the sun sets (about 5:20pm!)  We'll forgive them for having rooms that don't live up to Mata N'Ativa standards.  After all, we've set our new standards very high.  It will be fun to just relax on our last day in paradise.  I think I have just about enough sunblock to survive.  

Fish on the Beach in Trancoso, Brazil



I don't like fish very much.  In fact, I rarely eat it in the US, since it's often over-priced and tasteless.  It took coming to Brazil to change my mind about fish.  We moved from Pousada Hibisco to Pousada Mata N'Ativa, which is close to the beach.  Alison remembered that there was a good beach bar, Barraca do Jonas, which served excellent friend fish and chips.  It was easy to find Jonas--a place where the tables are right on the sand, and all the women are in bikinis, no matter what their size.  Interestingly, fried fish was nowhere on the menu, but the waiter was quite happy to take us into the kitchen to select a large Red fish, which was subsequently fried to perfection.  Not cheap, but well worth it.

Our new pousada in Trancoso, Mata N'Ativa, was only about 100 yards away from the first, but light years away in terms of ambience.  The rooms are fantastic, with wonderful touches, like fresh hibiscus flowers around the room.  The bathrooms have showers that are integrated into a small internal, floodlit, garden.  Outside, the owner Daniel and his wife, have planted a tropical paradise with a vast variety of interesting trees and plants.  This is an extraordinary pousada, where no attention to detail has been spared, from inlaid wood in the shape of a tree in a polished concrete entryway, to wood carvings of trees in the furniture.  Several rooms have private whirlpools, so the lack of a swimming pool is no disadvantage.  In fact, I felt so relaxed that after breakfast, I slept for two hours in a hammock.  This is the only pousada to which we've been that provided toothpaste, hairdryers and incredible natural hair products and body washes (made locally).  Too bad you can't buy them.  Daniel is a young engineer, who's worked all over the world.  He seems much more interested in guests enjoying the eco-atmosphere he's worked so hard to provide, than making money! If I wanted to spend a week somewhere to de-stress, this is where I'd come.  But remember to bring a Mastercard or Amex card; they don't take VISA for some reason.

Pousada Mata N'Ativa is a hard place to beat, so it's too bad we were only able to spend one night there.  Next stop, the Victor Hugo pousada in Santo Andre.

Thursday, November 13, 2008

Trancoso, Brazil: History and Indians



Trancoso itself is an interesting town, with a large, grassy, pedestrian-only quadrangle, overlooking the ocean.  The square is dominated by an 18th century, white church, but the town is much oder.  The cemetery occupies a prime spot, with a cliff-top view.  Trancoso obviously attracts many Brazilian tourists, but there's not another foreigner in earshot--partly, I'm sure, because virtually no one except the well-heeled tourists speaks English.  This is not a problem with my sister as guide, but would make it very difficult for anyone with no Portuguese.  Another difficulty is that the ATM, so temptingly located near the main square, did not accept my debit card.  For trips like this, where credit cards are usually not accepted at pousadas either, you need to take a lot of cash. The plus side of this is that there appears to be virtually no crime here.  It even feels safe walking alone along the beach.

The journey from Espelho to Trancoso was once again on dirt and sand roads, but ones which had been upgraded fairly recently.  It's all relative.  There were still penty of ruts and bumps and pressure on the shock absorbers of our faithful little car, but the road was wider than many we've been on, and the bridges overlooking the prairie-like countryside at least had small walls to protect us.  We came through an interesting Indian reservation, where we stopped and bought incredible polished wood dishes at rock bottom prices.  The children, dressed in native headdresses and carrying slots, clearly knew the price of a photograph and we gladly parted with our $2.50.  At least here you can be sure that the money is going to the people who need it.

Three new friends from the pousada in Espelho joined us in Trancoso for the evening, and we had a very enjoyable dinner at Cacao on the square.  All are Brazilian, but one is Jewish, of Romanian descent and married to another doctor of Syrian descent.  The other member of the trio is a young woman of Japanese parentage.  Pousada people tend to be very interesting and friendly. These were no exception. 

Trancoso: A Curious Oasis at the Pousada Hibisco



I am alone.  Birds are singing. The sky is a deep blue.  The pool shimmers invitingly in the light breeze.  This place could define feng shui.  And if I wanted a place to chill out completely in northeast Brazil, this is the place I'd buy.  I would build a chic villa with multiple guest rooms, replacing the ones that are currently two steps up from camping. These rooms do have private bathrooms, but that's where any pretense of being up-market ends.  We've been in some very basic pousadas before. (Caraiva, particularly, comes to mind.)  The surprise here is the disconnect between the quality of the rooms and the extraordinary pool area, which has been designed with an eye for quality and comfort.  Enough of my dreaming.  It's a great place to spend the day, while Alison investigates a few more pousadas.  Her site, hiddenpousadasbrazil.com is just about to be launched, and it's a fitting tribute to the huge amount of work she's put in to investigating the pousadas she recommends.  Pousada Hibisco will get a "recommended with reservations" designation.

Solitude has been a constant on this trip.  These have rarely been more than a couple of other people at the pousadas we've visited--mainly a product of it being low season, but also due to the fact that pousadas are as ubiquitous as Starbucks on a US high street.  How anyone makes any money is a total mystery, and probably contributes to the number of "for sale" signs around.  In the case of Pousada Hibisco, the owner left hurriedly, due to stress, leaving a "friend" in charge, but with no money to pay the bills.  No one was expecting us, and we were told the place was full.  Clearly, the reality is that they didn't want anyone to stay.  Which leaves open the question, "when you're stressed in paradise, where do you go?"


Wednesday, November 12, 2008

Paying for Potholes in Espelho, Bahia, Brazil



Today was another travel day.  Caraiva is definitely in the middle of nowhere, meaning that any way out is via dirt and sand road.  The journey didn't start very auspiciously.  Despite the pharmacist's drops, I still had a problem with my eye. In addition, we woke up to grey clouds, indicating that somewhere close by it was raining.  This was not good news, because we'd been told it would be impossible to reach Espelho, our next stop, in bad weather.  And neither of us wanted to follow the rain clouds back the way we'd come. I suggested to Alison that we go straight to Trancoso, located in relative civilization, and come back to Espelho for the day via boat, but after talking to the man where our car was parked, she changed my mind.  According to her source, there was only one really large hill close to Espelho that would give us trouble if it rained, and after that it was plain sailing.

I'm not sure that Alison's source had ever been to Espelho, because there were plenty of challenging sandy hills, even after the turn off to Espelho, that would have been difficult to navigate in bad weather.  Luckily, the wind started blowing hard from the northeast, which meant sun and no clouds.  As usual, there was a distinct dearth of signs directing us to our destination, Pousada Recanto do Espelho.  We received information from a man at the beach parking area, but baulked at the road we'd been told to take.  It was even more rutted than the average sand track, descended at a 45 degree angle, and ended up who knows where. So we parked at the top and walked down the hill.  There we discovered the most wonderful beach and ocean view.  We were exactly where we were supposed to be.

The pousada manager, Thiago, went to college at the University of Kentucky (of all places) on a tennis scholarship, and is fluent in English.  When I commented on the state of the road, and suggested that he might get more business if the ruts were fixed, he laughed and said they actually would pay for potholes, because it discourages tourist buses.  That's how Espelho keeps its reputation as the second best beach in Brazil.  Of course, there are day-trippers, but avoid Wednesday to Friday and you can pretty much have the beach to yourself.

Espelho's reputation is high praise, given how many beautiful beaches we've already seen in a tiny section of Brazil.  But this one is definitely special.  I'm sitting now in the wonderful open restaurant of our pousada, overlooking the ocean with a pristine yellow sandy beach.  Bug spray is definitely recommended from dusk on, since the variety and size of the bugs is quite impressive, but so far my US-bought Buggspray is doing quite well.

The pousada almost next door is also owned by the same people who manage our pousada.  It is slightly more up-market (read more expensive), and always full, even in low season.  Curiously, though, the rooms there do not have an ocean view.  I think we got the best of both worlds by sleeping in our pousada, but going next door for internet access and the most amazing shrimp in a pumpkin dish (Camarao na moranga).  This is where we also made friends with other guests, who'd found their way to paradise in a Range Rover.  After hearing that, I had no more worries about getting out of Espelho.  I was sure they could just pull our car over the hills and ruts.

One final important fact about Eseplho:  you need lots of cash.  It may be off the beaten path, but they don't accept credit cards, and because everything has to be trucked in, the prices are more similar to those found in Boston or New York than other local Brazilian prices.  Entrees were about $25 per person. 

Toads, Foot Massages and the Kindness of New Friends: Caraiva, Brazil



Our new accommodation at Pousada Lagoa is down the sand dune and closer to the village than Pousada Terra.  It also has more flora and fauna, inside and outside its simple but clean rooms. There is an electric shower, which doesn't run to anything more than lukewarm water, and a shower stall that was, when first inspected, occupied by a six inch toad, sitting on the soap shelf.  The toad didn't move, clearly believing that it was at home.

In the evening, we were joined by Julia, whom we met at our first pousada, which now seems light years away.  Julia arrived with another young woman and new friends from the village. She took one look at my eye, now practically glued shut and immediately took me off again to the pharmacy. By the time we got there, it was closed. No problem in a place like Caraiva.  You rattle the window shutters and shout out your needs. Presto, the pharmacy is open.  Julia's doing a PhD in Biology and is a practical sort.  After her ministrations with various pharmacy solutions, I looked, if not felt, a lot better.

We returned from the toad's bathroom to the bar, where one of the local men sitting next to me gave me a half hour foot massage--without asking, and just because he felt like it.  He certainly knew what he was doing, although he alternately claimed to be a dancer and a real estate agent! And that was after coming to my room to scare the toad up the wall and through the gap between the top of the wall and the roof.

It turned out later that my new friend's foot massage skills were somewhat better than his ability to frighten toads, since the resident toad was back lazing on the shelf when I left the bar for bed.  Luckily the manager had anticipated this eventuality and, accompanied by a different young man, came with me to my cottage.  The toad was well and truly removed this time and taken to the small lagoon in the middle of the property.

Caraiva is  a fascinating place, and to Alison, who talks to everyone, it's idyllic.  For people who don't speak Portuguese, or who want soap and hot showers without the company of toads and the occasional dead cockroach, it's a place to visit for a day with a good guide.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Caraiva and the Indians



This morning, before I started feeling so bad, Alison and I found a local man, an Indian, to take us up to the Indian reservation. It was an extraordinary trip, involving us, Tzyge (our guide), and his four year old son, Caique. Caraiva is 470 years old, but like in many places, the indigenous Indians have been persecuted, even as recently as 1951. The only reason the group we saw survived was because they were nomadic.  Still, they're unable to hunt and fish like they used to because they've been pushed towards the ocean and away from the forests and rivers where they've traditionally found their food.  We were greeted at a tiny opening in the river by Tzyge's brother in full headdress.  He took us to the communal hall, a round building with open sides and a straw roof, where they have marriage and other formal ceremonies.  According to his story, if a man likes a woman, he throws a small stone at her.  If she likes him, she throws the stone back.  Our Indian guide also showed us their fishing hole in the river, reminding us that the river also had alligators.  We didn't see any, which is just as well, because Alison decided to ride on a rubber tube behind the boat on the way back.  By that time, my eye was almost completely swollen shut, so I returned in the launch, vowing to see the pharmacist at the first opportunity.

Crazy Shrimp, Head Fried On: Thinking differently in Caraiva, Brazil



Crazy shrimp, head fried on. This wonderful expression, taken from a translated menu in Caraiva, describes how I feel in this place, which Google Earth thinks is in the middle of the ocean.  In a sense it is.  You have to get to Caraiva port (think tiny beach at the end of the sand track, where the boats pull up) and take a kayak across to the village, which is built completely on a series of sand dunes.  There are no motorized vehicles on the island, so that means walking on sand uphill to the Pousada da Terra. Our bags followed on a donkey cart, and when we moved out, we got pride of place sitting above the donkey.

Caraiva is an extraordinary village, firmly kep in the past by the fact that it has no traffic and only got electricity a year and a half ago. Curiously, it has some excellent bars and restaurants and a few tourist shops. What electricity there is is of the 40 watt variety, so forget reading a book inside. The pousada rooms are for sleeping only, but at least at the second pousada, you could sleep or read in the outdoor hammock.  The beach is only two sandy blocks from the first pousada, and a more magical beach could not be found.  Unfortunately, I appear to be allergic to papadise.  My right eye has swollen to quite a size, so it's difficult to see. A local pharmacist, located in a tiny shop in his house, has given me a remedy that appears to be anti-allergic and anti-inflammatory.  Alison says I look better, but I'm not convinced.  It's miserable being sick in paradise, but lucky that a pharmacist here can prescribe medication. Doctors don't seem to exist.

Getting to Caraiva was another challege.  Alison had warned me that the road from Cariva to our next destination, Espelho, was difficult if it rained, but not to worry, we'd just come back the way we came.  What she didn't tell me was that the first road we took from the BR101 would also be a dirt/sand road that would be equally impassible in bad weather.  The good news is that most of the route (except the part where I swear we went seriously wrong) was well sign-posted.  The bad news was that if it rains, that route, too, will be impassible.  The dirt/sand road was 47 kms long, and we saw one car coming the other way.  Clearly, once you get to Caraiva, you say--or perhaps you go north to Trancoso, which is where we'll go after Espelho.

Monday, November 10, 2008

Boat Trip to the End of the World: Corumbau, Brazil



There is no way of getting to Corumbau from Cumuruxatiba (or anywhere else) except by private helicopter, private plane or local boat.  So it was somewhat surprising to find there a thriving fishing village and a beautiful beach cafe.  We were advised to order as soon as we arrived, because they had to go and find the cook and catch the fish.  As usual, that took a couple of hours. Not a place to be in a hurry.

Our pousada owner arranged for us to meet up with a local man with a boat.  According to Hans, the boatman wasn't exactly reliable, but knew the area well. As it turned out, we left on time with our fellow pousada guests, a family with two children, and were extremely glad we had a captain who had spent his life on the ocean in Cumuruxatiba. The town's name comes from the Indian word that describes a place where there is a large difference between low and high tide, an important fact when you're in a boat, because at low tide, the treacherous reefs are very much in evidence.  When it's high tide, you just have to know the reefs are there. Charts of the area don't seem to exist. On our way back from Corumbau, even our experienced boatman couldn't find the way between the reefs and we ended up having to head way out to sea, through wind-whipped waves, before returning to dry land.

The captain obviously knew everyone in Corumbau, and introduced us to many people, or told us who lived in each of the houses.  It's a curious village, with nothing but ocean between there and Africa.  A large river joins the ocean at Corumbau and had, at some time in the fairly recent past, changed course, wiping out a whole row of houses closest to the water. So there's now a large flat sandy area between the village and the ocean that is rapidly becoming overgrown with mangrove.  I'm used to associating the destruction of beach-front property with hurricanes and the like, but really bad weather rarely, if ever, happens in this part of Bahia.  To destroy paradise, the river has to move.

On the way back, we passed a few resorts and private villas, with private planes quite visible.  This is certainly the place to come if you don't want anyone to find you.

Saturday, November 8, 2008

Cumuruxatiba: Intrepid Travellers on a Dirt/Sand Road
















At noon on Saturday, we set off for a 150 mile trip to our furthest destination, Cumuruxatiba.  On the map page, our entire journey took up less than three inches, but we soon discovered a) that there were no signposts and b) that the distances on the map bore no resemblance to the actual distance.  The scenery was quite stunning, going through verdant valleys, climbing steep hills (behind way too many buses and trucks) and past strangely shaped mountains, the likes of which I have never even seen illustrated.

When it came to turn off the main road, we wisely decided not to take the road that should have been a short cut to our destination, choosing instead to take the long route.  It turns out that the short cut is not even marked on local maps, probably having been destroyed in bad weather.  Neither Alison or I were prepared for the "better" road, a double wide cart track made of dirt and sand, which traversed creeks and gullies with the help of some wooden planks on top of the sand!  This was no short trip:  from the main road it stretched for 32 miles--all the way to the ocean.  I'm someone who always asks the question "what if". But, as Alison says, I need to abandon that kind of thinking if I'm to enjoy being here in the middle (or edge) of nowhere!

At the end of the road, we found a small town where all the local children appeared ot be swimming in a pool made from a dam, with older youths riding bikes or crowded into the back of a pick up truck.  We finally found Pousada E, with about half an hour before dusk, and after a five hour drive, gratefully accepted double dose caipirinhas from our hosts, Hans and Esther.

Once again, our pousada was at the water's edge, with miles and miles of sandy beach and virtually no one on it.  The wind has been blowing a 60 mile an hour gale from the equator all day, so despite the temperature, it's been remarkably cool.  I'm still giving my number 50 sunblock a pretty good test.

The location may be remote, but the friendliness of the pousada owners and fellow travellers means you never feel alone.  We tend to make friends over the extraordinary breakfasts that are included in the price (about $35 for a double room).  Today we tried an amazing round, knobbly fruit from the Amazon, name unknown.  Its sweet fruit flakes like fish, and is absolutely delicious.  Hans, the pousada owner, recommended a local restaurant for lunch--Catamara--and he was right about the quality of the food.  We had a moqueca (fish stew) made from freshly caught tiny shrimp, which must have taken hours to peel.  I'm not a fish stew kind of person, but this was special.  Other guests had also taken Hans' culinary suggestion and it turns out they will also be on the boat trip we plan to take tomorrow to an even more remote place, Corumbau, along the coast.  By the time our food arrived, we'd also started talking with another group of people whom we thought were Brazilians, but turned out to be a combination of Bahian, French and Italian locals.  They'd all found their version of paradise, and the lack of a decent road out didn't faze them in the slightest.

We are now at a different pousada 100 yards down the road, having gone from Pousada E to Pousada Uai (Y).  Although right at the beach, there are no ocean views here.  No one understands English, either, but it doesn't seem to matter.  The manager set up an internet connection for me, so a few special people got messages!  Our next location, Caraiva, only got electricity last year, so I suspect I'll be out of contact with the real world for a while.  Somehow I don't miss the news about financial crises or the American elections.  It's time for another beer.

Thursday, November 6, 2008

The Hidden Pousada Brazil Travels Begin: Porto Seguro




Best laid plans…..Alison had found us an inexpensive flight via GOL (now associated with semi-defunct airline, Varig) to Porto Seguro on the northeast coast. The airline called yesterday to say the flight was cancelled and we were rescheduled to go one hour south to Sao Paulo in order to go three hours north to our destination—with a four hour layover in between. Our layover gave us plenty of time to look around the airport. It’s clear that in Sao Paulo you might need some fairly diverse services. On one notice board I found directions to showers and an ‘aesthetics’ center, a dentist, and baked potatoes

We finally arrived in Porto Seguro at dusk (luckily the clocks go back one hour in Bahia), and were greeted by a representative from Avis, which had the best deal on rental cars. Tip: book from the US or UK. We got much better prices than those available to Brazilians. Demonstrating the controls of the first car, the Avis rep managed to punch the air conditioning button right through the control panel, but we ended up with a perfectly acceptable car. It’s a manual transmission (automatics don’t seem to be available), with no power anything, but it’s getting us where we need to go.

Our first challenge was to find the ferry boat to cross the river to the pousada. By this time it was completely dark, the streets were filled with pedestrians, bicycles, scooters, buses and cars, and the streets were cobbled, interspersed with road bumps, aka sleeping policemen. This probably ensures fewer deaths of bicyclists and motorbike riders, because if you go more than 5 miles an hour, you risk a very nasty landing. Since most of the streets in Porto Seguro are one way, and the signs to the balsa (ferry) very sporadic, we missed the turn, which meant going round once again. In the dark, it looked as if the entrance to the car ferry meant driving off the edge of a cliff, but we navigated it successfully and found the pousada a quarter of a mile down the road at the other end. As I mused to Alison that the trip would have been almost impossible if neither of us had spoken Portuguese, she said there was a much easier way to do this: Fly to Porto Seguro, having identified where you want to stay, and ask the pousada for a transfer. I highly recommend the way we did it for local color, and if you want maximum flexibility! For the less intrepid, take Alison’s advice.

Jazz in Rio de Janeiro


Day two in Brazil dawned bright, clear and very warm—a perfect opportunity to laze in the hammock on the deck, seven stories up, overlooking the statue of Cristo Redentor on a neighboring mountain. All of that seems a long time ago, since I’m now sitting in paradise by the pool at a pousada called Beijamar, with a tame parrot called Louro trying to eat my camera case. But I digress. On Wednesday evening, after a wonderful meal with friends, al fresco at Alison’s, we went out to hear jazz at the Katmandu club in Rio. It’s a small place—probably seating no more than 50, with no cover charge, and an extraordinary concentration of musicians per square inch. Most were world class, even if they weren’t scheduled to play that evening. During the second half, all the visiting musicians got to perform for one set. Look out for Alma Thomas, who’s a young American. Alma sings jazz in Portuguese so well that even the Brazilians think she’s one of theirs!