Oops, One More Day in Paradise

I woke up, packed up my bags, ate breakfast, sadly said goodbye to my friends at the hostel, got a taxi to the bus station, loaded my luggage under the bus, got settled in my seat, and then promptly got kicked off. Travel blunder #2. My ticket to leave Paraty wasn’t until tomorrow. Oops.

Embarrassed, I showed up at the hostel again and got the teasing I deserved and then headed back to the bus station to catch a ride to Trindade (pronounced Trin-dodge). This is a beach town but it’s really known as a notorious hippie town. I heard great things about it so a day trip to check for myself was on the schedule. I met a group of three Israeli guys, Noam, Ivo, and (can’t remember his name!), traveling after getting out of the army and before going to university. We struck up a great travel conversation, so when we arrived in Trindade and I had the inside scoop on the best beach to go to, they tagged along. It was a nice day, not very sunny but warm. I read and relaxed, they got pummeled by the big surf.

Before catching the bus home, I walked along the main street of the village. Yes, dreadlocks everywhere, stalls selling tie dyed clothing, wizard hats, and Indian scarves, hemp cloth-wearing street artists painting plates to sell to the tourists. You get it. I actually would’ve loved to explore and hang out in this little burg for another day, but I definitely had to get the bus to Sao Paulo the next morning, so tabled Trindade village until my next visit.

On the bus back to Paraty, we hit a big dip in the road and the whole bus – 98% of which were locals – cried in tandem, “Woooo!” as we all were lifted off our seats. There’s something here in Brazil, in the mood or attitude of the people. It’s like they love to have a good time and be playful and have fun. Like kids! Experiencing this has called out some cultural differences between Brazilians and Americans. In the US, there seems to be this thought or feeling that work is the most important thing. You work hard, you get rewards. If you don’t work hard, you don’t deserve rewards. But we work so hard that we have no time for our rewards, or they come rarely, for two weeks out of the year on vacation. Is that a healthy way to live? Here in Brazil, you get to have your cake and eat it too, for breakfast, lunch and dinner. And literally, they do eat cake and cookies and caramel for breakfast, no lie.

But I digress. I arrived back at the hostel and signed up for the nightly dinner party: BBQ and veggie BBQ plus two hours of all-you-can-drink at the bar. Now, truly, I haven’t been partying a lot since starting my travels. I mean, I’ve stayed out late at parties but haven’t had a bunch of drinks. I don’t know how it happened, but five caipirhinas later, Dario and I were headed to a club in the old town. The tiny club was packed and people were spilling out into the cobblestone street. We ran into everyone from the hostel, plus some others from the sister hostel next door, and… just, well, everyone! Inside the club was a tiny platform, maybe 3’ x 4’ with an accordionist and a guitar player cranking out crazy fast traditional Brazilian folk music. It was hot and sweaty and fun -- we all were just in this perfect mass of bodies jostling our way from group to group, laughing, shouting stories, and dancing. I made it home by 4am, trying not to wake my dorm mates.

My alarm didn’t go off. I woke up hung over -- cotton mouthed and bleary eyed -- and looked at my watch. Crap! My bus leaves in 30 minutes. I shoved everything into my backpack as fast as I could, ran out to grab a cup of coffee and a roll, pecked Sabrina on either cheek as she giggled at me stumbling out the door and into the taxi. “Enjoy your life, Shannon!” she shouted in her trilling Romanian accent. She beamed and laughed and waved. I made it to the bus station just in time to load my bag and get my seat. Thank god I wasn’t kicked off this time, though I’m sure I should’ve been for reeking like spoilt caipirhinas. It was a rough six hours to Sao Paulo, the bus careening around those tight corners at breakneck speed, the greasy food at the rest stops, the woman next to me trying out all the horribly annoying different ringtones on her new cell phone. My head hurt and my tummy ached and I was cranky.

The blessing was that I had a real, live hotel that night. Just a business hotel, but I had it all to myself. There were a clean hot shower, little shampoos, conditioners, and soaps, clean white towels, a bedbug free mattress, a flat screen TV with some channels in English, and a nice restaurant. I spent the evening enjoying all these amenities. I felt incredibly spoiled in this low budget business hotel. It felt palatial!

I had a nice filling meal, caught up on rest, and am now in the air on my way to Manaus. Tomorrow I’ll leave Manaus to spend four days on the Amazon and in the jungle. I know it will be an amazing adventure.