Praia do Forte

Sometimes everything you touch turns to gold and certainly it was like that this morning and afternoon, if only my luck had held on for a full 24 hours.

Waking up early, I checked out and left my luggage in my friends apartment while we went to have breakfast and then take a bus to Praia do Forte and our timing could not be better as we caught a first and then a second bus without delay or even having to wait for a connecting bus as they were right there and for BR $2 and BR $7 respectively we took two bus journeys that landed us at our destination early and ready to face the day.

In fact we had arrived so early that not even the staff had arrived, so that meant that we were able to take the side entrance and walk in without paying and had free reign of the place to explore. At first I thought that we were there at the wrong time of year, as it was about 8am and the place was still deserted, but by 10am the place had livened up.

While we were strolling around and taking snaps of the turtles we came across three young chaps, mid to late 20's, who were doing pretty much the same thing as us and they asked us if we wanted to see the sharks.

We said that we did and from that moment on we were a five some for the rest of the morning and afternoon. Our new friends were on holidays from south a city more south towards the South of Brazil and with my Spanish friend acting as partial translator and me doing my best in Spanish we pretty much firmed a bond that I hope will last long after I return to the UK.

We shared a second breakfast and a couple of bottles of beer, and when I mean shared a couple I mean exactly that as in Brazil they put a single bottle in a cooler and pour out a glass each rather than what I was expecting and dreading which was a full bottle or pint each. I don't usually drink as a rule, and especially not before the early evening, but I didn't think that a small glass or two would hurt and in the heat a chilled drink went down so very well.

We chatted about football, women, holidays, work and got on so famously that If I had already completed my book I bet they would have bought one each just to be friendly and sociable. Being in a jovial mood they decided that they were going to have a swim my the nearest beach and in order to get there had rented out a pair of pedallo's, which they insisted that I sit up at the front and took photos while they sat at the back and pedalled like maniacs all the way there.

At the beach we all took turns sunbathing and showing off our swimming skills and although I had not brought a towel or change of clothes I thought that the heat would probably dry them out in no time so I did not really hesitate to strip down to not much and dive in after the others.

Despite being very careful with allowing myself only 15 minutes front and back to catch some rays, as I had only sun protected my forearms and legs before coming out I had managed to go a nice rosey pink colour both front and back, which I would later regret having to carry my rucksack around at the airport.

Possibly the three young chaps were exceptionally nice and kind or perhaps the stereotype of Brazil and its people in the UK needs a serious reality check, but despite my inability to speak either Portuguese or Spanish fluently nothing stopped us all from having a great time together, I felt a bit like a special guest as they refused to let me pay for anything or to take a turn cycling and by the end of the afternoon it was all back slaps and exchanging of email addressed before we had to leave the beach and return to Itapua.

Just as we reached the bus stop it began to rain, but thankfully it was empty inside and so I was able to strip off and change from my wet boxers back into my dry shorts in the back of the bus before anyone else got onboard.

Our timing and connections were just as smooth on the way back as on the way there and we were back in Itapua before we knew it. Before I left my Spanish friend insisted that I try a local delicassy which is shredded chicken rolled in mash potatoe and then with a light crispy crumb coating fried, and then it was time to go off to the airport.

Sadly this is where my luck ran out, as despite only having to wait a few minutes time to catch a bus to the airport at a cost of another BR $2 compared to the BR$ 35 for the taxi into town, my flight was no on the board when I arrived and I was soon to find out that it had been cancelled.

I did not panic, but it was not easy being unable to speak the local lingo and find out why it had been cancelled, what they planned to do about it and the fact that I had an additional four hour delay before they could fit me on another flight with a different airline. What was worse was that I was still in my shorts and it gets cold in air conditioned airports at night and certainly the flight over which arrived at midnight was enough to give me a chill again after the sunburning of the afternoon.

The final kick was that as I had now arrived in Rio after midnight I had missed the last bus of the night going into town and had to take a taxi at a cost of BR $80, which again is about ten times the cost of a bus going the same route and will mean yet another trip to the bank early tomorrow morning.

Arriving at the hostel I was partly pleased that my I did not have to share my 4 bed dorm room with anyone else, but this was diminished by seeing a baby cockroach walk along the floor and then killed off by being bitten by a bedbug or flea within the first five minutes of sitting on my bed.

Hopefully the rest of Rio will have more luck for me than the arrival.

Final Night in Itapua

Sadly both my original contacts in Salvador declined to meet me for whatever reason, and so it was lucky indeed that I had made a new contact with my new Spanish Amigo and self confessed lover of all things Brazilian as he saved the second night and third day from being a bit boring and humdrum.

After stupidly waiting for a phone call from my original contact here, who in all fairness I had spoken to only last night so assumed that plans would not change in only a few hours, I just decided to take a stroll around the centre of Itapua, maybe try to even out the tan my tan a bit and let my poor feet recover a bit.

Once it got to about 6pm the place was dark, but far from deserted, but being so rudely ignored I could not really get myself into the fiesta mood alone, so I thought I would get an early night and then make a full day of it early tomorrow.

So I strolled back to my hotel, after taking a few shots of a group of teenagers playing twilight beach football, and then with a mouth full of seedless grapes I went to bed. However I had only been dozing for a few hours when there was a knock on my door, and I had completely forgot that the last time I spoke to my new amigo I had said that if later on he was up to not a lot to give me a shout and we would go for a meal or something.

Well it appeared that he did have something up but had chose to give me a knock anyway to see if I wanted to tag along, which of course I jumped at and we ended up going to see a friend of his who runs a very nice private Puesada or smallish private bed and breakfast, for slightly more personal friends and family rather than just anyone off the street or the internet.

We chatted for a bit before we discussed going to see the Sea turtles in the morning and go for a nice traditional Brazilian meal in a nice part of town. This place was amazing, the decor, the staff and the food ( both the buffet and the selection of meats on offer ) put a lot of places in London to shame and it was without doubt one of the tastiest meal I have had eaten in a good six months or so.

The price was BR $90 each, so it was not cheap even by local standards, but then again for the all you can eat meat off the skewer and a buffet to die for I doubt anyone who ate there would call it overpriced.

Around 11pm we caught a cab back to the hotel and arranged to meet up very early the next morning in order to reach Praia do Forte for the sea turtles in plenty of time to get back form my flight out to Rio.

Oh and did you know that Cactus plants actually have rather nice flowers .... no, neither did I til now.

Itapua & Brazil

I have heard speak of Jamaican time being different to European time, well I have not been to Jamaica but I have now been to Brazil and I am beginning to feel that it is not just a Jamaican trait but a trait of most of it not all Latin Americans.

The day starts at around 5am when the sun rises and it is hot enough to sunbathe at 6am, though most places do not open for breakfast here until about 8am.

I have now had a few meals here, and apart from the superfast pizzeria where they just keep coming round with dish after dish until you give in and are full to bursting, they are very slow and do not seem to serve people in any order just whatever comes out of the Kitchen first.

The food is cheap, a plate of chips a can of drink and a Lasagne big enough for two huge portions of three normal ones all the price of only BR $15 is very good value for money, but I almost feel that I want to order and then go for a walk and come back in half hour or longer by which time they might have got round to taking the can out of the fridge.

Music is everywhere and cars drive slowly with huge bass speakers strapped to their roofs pumping out music at all hours day and night and if only the music was good I wouldn't mind, but some of it is strictly a local speciality taste, i.e., if you don't go berserk for all forms of Latin music you will probably think its shit.

Although the weather forecast said no rain it has rained every day on and off, but only very light showers and the suns rays dry the crazy mosaic slab pavements so fast that only in the deep broken holes can you even see proof that it was raining at all.

As I was walking along the beach road yesterday I saw a man with a small kitten sitting on his lap carefully as he was riding his motor cycle very slowly along the inside of the street. On another occasion I saw two guys riding on a bike and only the pillion passenger had a crash hat, but this seems more normal as I spend more time here.

Football and beach volleyball all seem to be played by the locals whenever they get together in large enough numbers, and all the while the older generation sit under the umbrellas playing dominoes and drinking a local brewed beer.

On most street corners there are dvd sleeves showing movies to buy, but as wide and large as my movie taste stretched to, not even the kids movies or cartoons ring any bells with me, and so I pass them by without more than a slight pause.

A wandering street merchant comes up to me and offers a selection of flimsy plastic some-things that I failed to grasp the use of despite his putting them inches from my face and then coming back less than ten minutes later perhaps thinking that I had changed my mind, either that or just out of boredom and routine.

Not having had any of my five a day in awhile now, I nipped into one of the market stalls behind my hotel and bought a large bunch of grapes, seedless too, and a small carton of strawberries for the princely sum of BR $4.50, and with prices this cheap I might go get a banana and a pineapple for my trip to the airport tomorrow.

Apparently there is a place near by where you can go and see the sea turtles which is only an hour away by bus, so with the sun rising early each morning I have arranged with my Spanish friend to go there together in the morning and take a few photos and then come back in order to be at the airport at 4pm.

He seems a genuine nice guy but is occasionally he is a little bit out with his estimates of what things cost, for instance he convinced me to get my laundry in the hotel as it would be very cheap and they would consider it almost an insult to go to a laundrette as it is taking a job away from one of them, so I agreed and the following day it was returned to me but at a cost of BR $20 which is the most I have ever had to pay to have my linen cleaned, and the only reason seemed to be that it was done by hand.

Now considering that I have just done Europe and some of its most expensive cities, for it to be more expensive here in Brazil than anywhere else there is something a little wrong somewhere along the way.

Earlier today a man came up to me, smiled, pointed at my shoes and then begged for some money by pointing at his mouth as if to say "hey man, if your rich enough to have shoes then you can afford to give me a little change to get something to eat!" but again I just had to walk on by and try to not let it spoil my view of this land.

I know that I am lucky enough to be born in a rich country like the UK and to have a caring and supportive family around me, but that does not mean that I have to carry the burden of giving whatever change I have just received from my most recent purchase to the nearest local several times a day.

I have no job, I am using up fast my trip savings and all too soon I will be spending on my credit card, which is money that I will owe, so no matter how rich I appear to the locals in actuality at the end of each day they have more than me as they owe nothing but I will owe many thousands of pounds by the time I return home.

In Salvador I was meant to be meeting up with one or two new friends that I had met over the internet but alas they both turned out to have either forgotten me or to have had better things to do with their time, so it is lucky that I have befriended my Spanish friend or I would be truly a stranger in a strange land.

On a side issue, from time to time I use google analytics to tell me how well I am progressing in reaching an audience that might be interested in reading a book about travel and sad to say that around 30 was the highest I ever managed on a daily basis, with not even a quarter of all my international pen friends reading my blog once a week, some appear never to have read it, and so I feel that my dream of becoming a travel writer is fast disappearing.

That said, it takes a bit of pressure away from me, as I am becoming more free to think and do what I like as the reality is that not enough people will ever read my blog, or subsequent travel book, to be worth doing things for the audience and so If I chose to just sit on a beach and do nothing for a week then no one would mind.

The only serious negative slant on the whole thing is that it means I will have to face my occupational demons rather sooner than planned in order to find another paying job to repay the debt that this trip will put me into almost as soon as I return to the UK, as it would appear that I no longer require a few months of writing / compiling time at the other end of my voyage.

But to end on a high, my lip infection or whatever it was appears to be clearing up, although it still feels weird whenever I eat of lick my lips, and my blisters appear to be reforming back into my feet as I steadfast refused to burst them, not being in a country, city or even hotel known for its immaculate cleanliness.

Outsmarting myself

There is no wifi in the hotel where I am staying at the moment, but they do have a computer in the main reception.

So I spent a long time in my room this morning, avoiding the burning hot sun, typing out a long email and saving it to my memory stick only to forget that not every computer accepts USB2 memory sticks.

I have four special bits of advice for Brazil.

Bring with you some suntan lotion and use is a.s.a.p.

Buy yourself a floppy hat, a pair of flip flops and some sunglasses, dont worry about bringing them with you as you can buy them here very cheap.

Remember that not all banks in Brazil will accept european credit or debit cards, so be sure to bring at least a little currency or exchange some at the airport and if your here for awhile it is wise to spend a little time locating the nearest ATM machine that will accept your card.

Finally, when you too decide to enjoy a nice breakfast on the beach under a cosy sun lounger and over looking the rolling white waves lapping at your toes, stick to things that you know and be prepared to wait, or else you too could find yourself eating two whole roasted baby chicks, salt covered chips, bread biscuit sawdust with accompanying salsa pepper fire sauce all washed down with a kiwi/vodka/rum cocktail that is thick enough to eat.

People might consider me boring by sticking to coke whenever I go out, but rest assured I can be adventurous, I just hate wasting money on drinks I can stomuch, especially if the service is slow and I am already dying of thirst.

Oh, and one more thing, never go walking for more than a few minutes in flipflops unless you are very used to them or like have blisters the size of golf balls all over the soles of your feet.

In factor 30 sunblock I walked for about an hour and a half and now I cannot even stand without being in some amount of discomfort.

Salvador and it's northern district town Itapua

In Salvador the daylight times are a little different from what I am used to, so I was up at 05:30am despite not getting to bed and to sleep until about 2am the previous night, but then with bright sunshine bursting through the windows despite the shutters best efforts what else could I do.

I logged on to the internet, updated my blog, downloaded a few photos and then tried to organise and plan the next few days. The main problem with this was that neither airport that I had passed through, nor the hotel, had a proper map of the region including road names and so trying to make plans to visit anywhere on my own with no way of being sure where I was or how to get back made me a little edgy, especially with how dangerous Brazil is, and Brazil must be dangerous cos everyone I meet or talk to keep telling me that it is.

In the full light of day I could see that the naked lady on the hotel reception was actually a naked mermaid and the city seemed to have plenty of them about if you pay enough attention to the side streets and artwork around.

I would say that from my hotel room balcony the place looks run down, like the Dominican Republic, and I am wondering whether the sun and coastal wind have a way of demolishing at a faster rate than expected or just whether they weren't properly built to completion in the first places.

There is very little graffiti tagging here, but then why bother when the cost of a spray can is more than most people could afford to throw away and the sun would only bleach it back to a dull greyish rock colour in a matter of years if not sooner.

For some reason my lower lip has partially exploded in a series of mini blisters, which is causing me some concern, but then I have not especially been anywhere or done anything to warrant infection or disease, and all my jabs and pills are up to date, so I am just keeping an eye on them and if they get an worse over the next two days I will go to the chemist and ask advice.

After one of the best breakfasts I have had in ages, being meat, cheese, fresh pineapple and mango, plus chocolate cake and orange juice I set about packing up my stuff and heading off for the hostel which according to google maps should be close by just along the coast.

Sadly the place does not have proper street names on many of the street corners, the locals do not even know which road they are on let alone where they need to get to ( I guess they use old fashioned directions like the nearest corner shop, the beach, the church, the police station, to guide them around) and so after a walk of only five minutes I knew that I was getting lost and in this heat, with a rucksack on my back would be the most stupid thing that I could do, ok apart from taking my wallet out and trying to juggle with it and my cellphone and digital camera in front of the local children !

So without a map to guide me, I went back to the hotel of the previous night and asked about getting a taxi, which he grudgingly accepted. He walked to the window, whistled a few times and then failing to get a reply he came back and instead gave me directions to it, saying that it was a quick walk but down the hill not up like I had thought and went off at first. I am reminded that Google maps are NOT infallible, especially when it comes to South America, and it required people to give it directions and addresses in the first place when it is created and further when it is updating its maps.

After a nice short stroll downhill and along the beach I made it to my hostel and was very much relieved when I was able to take my rucksack off my back and check in. Despite being reassured that people here do speak English I would have to argue that, as I am being given directions and information in first Portuguese and then in broken Spanish despite my telling everyone that I am from England.

In fact, saying Britain and England does not even register with most people, as they all know it as Inglaterra but drop in London and they get the gist and try their best to speak English.

Anyway, as I had my printout reservation I knew that I was meant to be in a six room dorm, but after a bit of a chat I was shown to a room that was a private double bed, and so I was more than happy. The room had a walk in shower / toilet that had a very funny smell, a ceiling fan and a nice view overlooking the er ... street below ... but then I was not overly impressed with the facilities of the last hotel and with Hotel Ibis 2 star being 40 minutes away and 4 times the price I was content to take the added bonus of a private room and not complain.

It is especially hard to complain or feel hard done by when you go past the buildings and see what the locals are living like, that many have just holes in their walls for windows and broken wooden homemade ladders as entrances to their homes. The fact that are all a bunch of sun crazed football addicts is just part of what makes up their pride and the worst that the weather can do is break their homes but never their spirits.

The bed had pillows but not sheet cover, but then I thought that it as so very hot that I would probably end up having to sleep with the ceiling fan on all night anyway so what use are sheets and duvets when I would just be lying on top of them.

After getting changed into more suitable hot weather clothes I went down to the reception to ask for a map and was given out at the same time as being talked into taking the local sight seeing bus tour of the region. This was something that I had considered doing anyway, but as I didn't know the timetable I was caught on the hop that it left in about five minutes and luckily from right outside the hotel, as it was more accurate to call it a cheap hotel than a hostel.

The tour was on a modern open topped double decker bus, with a roll back roof to protect from the suns blasting heat and a audio track that alternated between between Portuguese and English but never seemed to be loud enough to hear clearly except when it was playing the music in between its monologue guide.

The cost of five trips throughout the day, starting at 10:30am and returning at 16:30 was only BR $30 and as this is only works out to be about £10 if not less it is a real bargain and I suggest that everyone takes it even if they are just using it to get from A to B and not wanting to wait at a bus stop and take the gamble that they wont be pickpocketted or held up, not to mention that they might end up in the wrong direction or stopping in the middle of nowhere.

Everyone says that the Brazilian women are the sexiest in all the world, and though I did see plenty that caught my eye, I say that plenty that had good bodies with average faces or vice versa, and I still prefer the average Colombian woman to the average Brazilian women.

The bus stopped at plenty of places that looked like old fashioned town houses and you could tell the typical Portuguese architects designs and styles in many of them, if you like Architecture that is, but this is hardly surprising as it was the Portuguese who occupied Brazil and built most of them in the late 1700's to mid 1900's.

I must have made a real impression with the few other tourists who were on the bus, as I was jumping around from side of side as I saw something worthy trying to take a photo of, although being on a moving bus meant that I had to delete at least half once I was back at my hotel as they were out of focus or slightly blurred.

All along the coast the winds were strong enough to blow the palm trees around like they were toys and the noise totally drowned out the quiet tour audio monologue so I didn't even both with it in the end and just kept rubber necking at every chance I got. Many of the locals would smile and wave up at the bus and I was surprised how many of the locals I managed to make proper eye contact with as it was almost as if the tour bus, being new, attracted them and then me being white kept them interested.

I did have to switch buses from time to time, as one tour ended and another began and I do have to confess that I missed one connection but it was totally not my fault. I can tell the time, and I understood that they told me I had a break of forty five minutes before the next trip started, but what I didn't understand was that I had to leave the bus, cross the square, take a short elevator trip down ( that only cost BR $0.05 but they don't have much change so don't even try with a BR $20 note ! ) and then along the road, past another square and then go behind the big mustard yellow building where I would find the next bus waiting !!!

I did miss the bus, but as the old bus didn't leave I talked to the driver, who got in touch with the guide, who phoned the other guide on the other bus and explained it all to me again in better English and then phoned back the other bus to tell them to wait for me. Even running all the way from the elevator I did not manage to catch the next bus, but thankfully the other passengers who recognised the photo crazy Brit, did and they began slapping the side of the bus in order to let the driver know and it was the last time that I went far from the bus again.

The other tourists on the bus at first were a bit mad at me for keeping them waiting, and then later felt a bit sorry for me as I never wandered far form the bus and must have thought that I was upset or afraid to leave the bus, but the truth was that without a map, with only a few minutes, alone and in the middle of nowhere I had no real desire or need to leave the bus for any reason and so I just stayed within sight of the bus and waited til we could all board again.

By the end of the final tour a couple of women from Sao Paolo had sort of decided to take me under their wing and so when the bus stopped and I went to look at the boats they bought me back an Icecream cone, possibly they didn't like the cone and just wanted the ice cream and possibly they realised that I wouldn't have understood the guide saying in Portuguese ,"And here is a great place to stop for fifteen minutes. Feel free to stretch your legs, take some photos and if you like ice cream then I strongly suggest trying some from the local shop here it's extra delicious and very reasonably priced!"

The lighthouse tour with my Brazilian buddies was the last stop before a long bus ride home and it must have gone off the normal path, as try as I might I could not see the same things that I had seen on the way here and the day went to night around 17:30 when it went from brilliant sunlight to pitch blackness in moments.

The weather had been 26 degrees all day and overcast for most of it, which explains why I didn't get burned all over, but I timed myself to have ten minutes in the sun when it did come out and ten minutes was all it took to redden my arms and face to a shade that would take an hour back in England.

As it had been a long day, the sky was pitch black, I had no map and no friend to meet me I decided not to go for a late night stroll around the neighbourhood and just chilled in my room before I fell asleep no later than 20:00.