The 3 hour boat ride back to Salvador destroyed my stomach. An hour before boarding the boat, I grabbed the quickest lunch I could find; the greasiest fried empanada I could find. It also took them 1/2 hour to make which can only mean they fried it, took it out, fried it again…and so on.

The long wait for my drenching empanada meant I had 15 minutes to run back to the hotel, finish packing, and run a mile uphill with my 50 pound backpack with a broken strap that no longer supports the weight. It was tough. Especially in my $2 sandals I bought at CVS.

I made it just as the boat was about to leave! My French friend was not so lucky. The boat had left the dock and we had to go back to get her.

The waters were a bit rough at first. But my French buddy convinced me to climb up top and watch the sea. What a mistake! It felt like the film “The Perfect Storm” with the boat being thrown about the sea, riding on top of 10 feet waves.

I quickly climbed the ladder down and sat back inside. This was also not so easy. I accidentally slapped some poor guy on the shoulder as I stumbled to sit down on a bench. Even worse, he started up conversation. Having a chat was the last thing I wanted to do when all I could think about was not vomiting all over the guy.

Soon enough I did vomit. I have to say that I did it professionally. Almost like I had thrown up on boats many times. I motioned for a bag…vomited…quickly handed the bag to the “boat guy”, and laid back down.

A few hours later we arrived back in Salvador’s port. I said goodbye to my French friend and hurried to the elevator that would take me to the upper city, to find a cheap place to sleep. The goal was to accomplish this before dark, when Pelourinho becomes dangerous to those carrying all of their belongings on their back.

yadda yadda yadda I found a hostel. As I was eating dinner I heard lots of noise outside so i ate my meal rather fast. It was spectacular. The place really came alive. I followed my ears to the music. It was everywhere. Drummers marching through the streets, free concerts in the main square and outdoor concert hall. Everywhere.

I woke up rather late again the next morning for some more site seeing and reading.

More churches. Jesus!

I exhausted most of my options in Pelourinho. Like many touristy areas in so called dangerous cities, locals and tourists alike tend to warn of nearby areas for being dangerous. I ignored this warning and I opted to walk in the opposite direction and explore the unknown. Opposite Pelourinho (a tourist mecca) was downtown Salvador, bustling in all its glory.

The next four hours were tiring but worthwhile. I ate cheap, yet quality per kilo and fresh coconut juice. I passed by parks with old men sitting on benches, a universal sight.

I passed street vendors selling little toys, bras, and bananas. Everything really.

I even cooled off in a mall for an hour, sitting on one of the benches just like an old man in a park.

Later on I found myself lost, wandering into the more trashy looking areas. This park smelt like shit and was filled with the homeless sleeping.

I did make my way back after an officer pointed in the direction of where I wanted to be.

This is not my bed. Just the bed opposite mine.

Goodbye Salvador!

Before I flew to Salvador I read about various destinations close to Salvador. One of these destinations is Morro De Sao Paulo, one of the 5 villages on an island called Tinhare.

After a day or two in Salvador with my new traveling buddies from Canada and France, we woke up early and caught a taxi to the port. After negotiating the boat fare down 20 Real’s, we paid, and waited another hour before boarding our boat.

60 km later we arrived to a beautiful and sunny tropical island!

Of course there were tens of people waiting on the docks to hound us with hotels and their wheelbarrow taxis wanting tips.

I have been through this a few times before. I quickly walked past them all and rested by bag on the sand street to wait for the others.

The next to hours was a disaster and reconfirmed that I made the correct choice to travel alone and meet people once I got to my destination. We hiked a good 2o minutes through the beige, sandy streets, until we reached the beach lined with restaurants and hotels. We left one Canadian behind and the three of us searched for a decent and inexpensive hostel.

They were all so indecisive and I became frustrated. Two of them had no opinion and the other was so set on these two hotels. After an hour of walking down the beach and revisiting the same hotels, we eventually chose a hotel. For $20/night per person, the four of us rented a room in a hotel (WITH HAMMOCKS!) right on the beach. The view was spectacular!

Taken from my the balcony of my hotel.

Our lack of decision making meant the sun set before we could enjoy a day of sunbathing on the beach.

I won’t lie. The island was touristy with lots of people, hotels, expensive restaurants, etc. I think I preferred it this way, rather than an isolated beach with no infrastructure ‘s like in Colombia.

I felt so privileged to live this lifestyle. Wake up at 10 for a big breakfast of fruits and cakes, a dip in the ocean, and shower afterwards. The next part of the day was sunbathing, spotting the occasional topless sunbather or listening to music and audio books. We would head for the dock to watch the sun set and then eat some fish or chicken for dinner. Afterwards we would return to our hotel after purchasing a bottle of rum at the supermarket next door. We brought the bottle on the beach and listened to the excellent live music coming from nearby restaurants or visit a club later in the night.

One big regret was not attending this party, held in the middle of the vegetation, overlooking the island.

Near the docks to watch the sun set.

Spotting sea lions or dolphins.

Ruins.

Watching a soccer game as the sun sets.

Coffee after dinner.

A stroll around town at night, sampling various deserts and snacks.

Chilling on the balcony of our hotel.

A sample menu. Peixe= fish and Frango= chicken

Fresh fruit cocktails.

Partying on the beach.

Click here to view the embedded video.

Sunbathing during the day.

The start to the next day was like deja-vu. I slept in past breakfast, woke up and took a shower at 12:30, and joined my new buddy Marcus for another day of site seeing in Salvador. Marcus suggested Ribiera, a part of Salvador that was also recommended on the napkin I received on the airplane.

Marcus is an interesting guy…an overachiever to say the least.

He’s in his mid 20′s and is fluent in Portuguese (of course), English, and Spanish. His greatest hobby is learning languages and so our days would consist of us practicing our English, Spanish, and Portuguese. We would spot a tree for instance, and Marcus would teach me the word in Portuguese while comparing the make up of the word to the word in Spanish and English. He is studying English at University and also completed a certification course in something related to security, in addition to working at the hostel.

The main attraction in Ribiero is its church.

It was nice but nothing special after having visited at least 20 different churches throughout South America.

Outside the church there were many locals and tourists. A few blocks away we found this beauty.

I snapped that by sticking my camera through the gates. I have no idea what the property is used for and the only person to ask was a older prostitute soliciting us for sex.

But the real gem of Ribiera is the neighborhood itself. We both remarked how relaxing and laid back the atmosphere felt to us. We wandered for a few hours, occasionally walking past locals, ice cream parlors, small restaurants, etc. It’s a place I would really enjoy living.

Like I said, the locals are relaxed. This is a picture of a few just chilling in a derelict yard.

I could tell that this neighborhood used to be a happening place by the look of so many colonial buildings. But few are still kept looking new.

Ribiera has a beach and fort as well. Sooooo many forts in South America.

After a bit of walking we found our place on the beach overlooking downtown Salvador.

We sat and talked for a few hours. Later on we found an ice cream parlor and ate some native Amazonian fruit flavored ice cream that tasted a bit sour. I would have preferred vanilla.

That night turned into a bit of a surprise. I was lying in bed around midnight when I decided on going to the bathroom. Upon returning to my room I ran into the friends I had just spent time with 2 days prior in Rio. They had just arrived in Salvador and still had their backpacks on as they were checking into the hostel.

Like me, they attempted to check into the same other hostel that was full. Although they found this one much easier than I.

The following day, myself and my friends (the 2 Canadians and French girl) spent some time near the hostel in Barra and back to Pelourinho where I showed them around.

The beach in Barra is also quite nice, even if its a bit rocky.

Back in Pelourinho, a Baiana woman is dressed in her traditional white African attire selling traditional soul food: deep-fried on a portable stove.

We ate lunch at a cheap kilo restaurant, which is a Brazilian buffet restaurant in which you help yourself from a buffet and weigh your plate on a scale at the end of the buffet counter. Kilo restaurants usually serve varied, home-style Brazilian food: beans, rice, meats, vegetables, pastries, casseroles and salads.

After lunch the four of us toured the Afro-Brazilian museum. We even got to watch a traditional ceremony…kidding. It’s just a picture of a picture of a ceremony.

Unfortunately, we made conversation with that one old man who spends every day of his hanging out in the museum. Of course he does not work there, but he still managed to know every. single. boring.fact about the museum and the staff that has worked there in the past 50 years.

I am pretty certain every museum in the world has one of these guys. Needless to say, we spent a bit more time in the museum than we planned.

We wandered some more after finally escaping.

Hippies from Argentina that sell jewelry to survive.

One of the many outdoor cafe’s and homeless people wandering the streets.

A famous theater

The day was beginning to end and so I led them down the elevator to the lower city to show them Mercado Modelo. That was also a mistake. We proceeded to spend 2 hours there while one of my friends spent the time deciding on whether he wanted to purchase a mass produced drum that can be found anywhere. He did buy it and for the next week, all i heard was him banging on the drums. It was awful!

I think that’s a fake smile. I can’t imagine I was that happy sitting on a bench for two hours.

I can’t imagine I was that happy sitting on a bench for two hours.

I woke up the next day at my normal time; 12 in the afternoon. Breakfast ended a few hours before so i changed my plans to get breakfast before going siteseeing for the day. Just as I was walking out of the hostel one of the workers introduced himself as Marcus. Marcus and I spoke for a few minutes and we decided to get lunch together. Afterwards, he would take me site seeing.

In a neighborhood full of eateries costing at least $10 a meal, Marcus showed me an all you can eat place for $4. We loaded our plates with different salads, chicken, farofa (roasted manioc flour), etc. But Marcus then commented that my plate seemed empty. In reality, I had filled up my plate. But in comparison to his, and every other patron in the restaurant, it was hardly close. Brazilians, and all South Americans for that matter, treat lunch as the biggest meal of the day.

After lunch we caught a bus leaving from the beach to Pelourinho, the historical center. Our first stop was Mercado Modelo, a landmark of Salvador.

Despite being a tourist trap, this building used to house the old Customs House and now functions as a warehouse full of handicraft stall.

In addition, black slaves were held in the basement when they just arrived from Africa. Very humid and very hot, conditions must had been very bad.

I really can’t explain why I decided to pose for a picture down here…let alone smile.

After purchasing a pretty stylish t-shirt we walked a few blocks to the city’s elevator that transports people to the upper city.

A view from the top.

As I walked away from the elevator I noticed some graffiti. I quite like it.

Capoeira

After passing the graffiti I came across this touristy gem. Another cross overlooking a city in South America. Who would have guessed?

I should have taken the obligatory cheesy photo of myself pretending to hold up the cross.

Pelourinho is full of beautiful colonial buildings and plazas built by the Portuguese long ago.

Some could really use a new paint job, though it shows more character the way it is.

So many churches

It was getting late which makes for the best photos.

We took the elevator down and bused it back to Barra…the posh area where I and most other foreigners stay. Explains why it’s nearly impossible to find a fairly priced meal.

Back in Barra I met a German backpacker who just began his trip the same day. We journeyed off into the night in search of food and in his case, pot and food. I was walking beside him and look over to see him in mid conversation with a vagrant, setting up a purchase. He had the guy run to one of the nearby favelas to purchase his drugs and deliver it to the restaurant we decided on.

Local food can taste good but sometimes its not exactly what I expect. At this restaurant I ordered chicken and instead received burnt chicken bones.

Afterwards we wandered to the Barra lighthouse.

…and then back to our hostel for an early night.

I may be home and finished traveling but for all of my readers; we have about 3 weeks left in Brazil. So…this will be you (me) as I recount our travels in this update.

I had been relaxing in Rio for a few weeks and was not enjoying myself as much as I believed I should. I wanted a change. But in Brazil, a change (the actual act of traveling) is expensive. But one night I met a few Canadians and they helped to change my mind and come to the realization that no matter the expense, i am fortunate to be in Brazil and should make the most of it.

Rio De Janeiro and Salvador was what attracted me to visit Brazil in the first place, which was not an easy nor cheap task. It only made sense that I would visit Salvador out of any other destination (though i briefly considered Buenos Aires).

“Salvador (historic name, São Salvador da Baía de Todos os Santos, in English: “Holy Savior of All Saints’ Bay”) is a city on the northeast coast of Brazil and the capital of the Northeastern state of Bahia. Salvador is also known as Brazil’s capital of happiness due to its easygoing population and countless popular outdoor parties, including its street carnival.

I actually took this photo!

The city of Salvador is notable in Brazil for its cuisine, music and architecture, and its metropolitan area is the wealthiest in the northeastern region of the country. Over 80% of the population of metropolitan region of Salvador is of Black African origin, and African influence in many cultural aspects of the city makes it the center of Afro-Brazilian culture. The historical center of Salvador, frequently called the Pelourinho, is rich in historical monuments dating from the 17th through the 19th centuries and has been declared a World Heritage Site by UNESCO in 1985″ (http://wikitravel.org/en/Salvador).

That’s enough of an introduction to Salvador. The following day I woke up early to make that change. I began by researching plane fares on the internet. It’s really not worthy busing it because the costs are even more than flying and it takes over 20 hours. Really, you need to realize that Brazil is huge, like the United States. After getting a general idea of the costs, I went to obtain quotes from a few travel agencies. I again went back and compared them to prices I found on the internet. finally, I went back to one travel agency and booked the plane ticket for a pretty good price, about $450 Real’s.

Off I went the following night. I set out with all of my belongings on my back and walked a while until i reached the unofficial bus stop, opposite the famous Copacabana Palace Hotel. The idea is to wave the bus down. Problem is that the bus does not run on a schedule and tends to come at a random time every hour. Another problem is that next to the sidewalk is a road just for bicycles and on the other side is a skinny sidewalk that is not meant to wait on. Even worse is that Copacabana beach is extremely sketchy at night and waiting there, especially with valuables (my bags), is asking to be robbed.

Even walking to the bus stop presented problems. For instance, homeless men and sketchy guys would shout at me, asking if i needed help carrying the bags (can we rob you) or trying to sell me drugs or whores.

Being the “experienced” traveler I am, I walked very fast with my head up and hurried next to a nearby hotel when I felt at great risk. This worked and I safely made it to the “bus stop”. I chose to stand next to one of the hot dog vendors in hopes that I would not stand out to much. This was a great choice as the vendor flagged down the bus when it came more than 30 minutes later. The ride only took one and a half hours but did save me about 30-40 Real’s.

The adventure did not end after leaving Rio. During my flight I met a few kind Brazilians traveling back home to Salvador after a quick business trip in Rio. One of them spoke passable English and so he wrote down every possible tourist destination in and around Salvador which turned out very helpful.

After landing in Salvador after midnight, they offered to drive me to my hostel, which was way out of their way. My instincts told me it was okay to trust these guys. That’s another thing; your instincts and ability to judge situations and other people great improve when traveling. It’s probably because we do it all the time as we change locations, meet new people, etc…..all of the time.

My baggage came out after 30 seconds of waiting and we hurried to the parking lot to set off. They were doing me a huge favor since I would have probably needed to spend at least 60 Real’s on a taxi.

The rain started pouring down as we drove closer to the hostel. When we finally arrived, they had offered to show me the city and take me to a soccer game. Did I mention they were really kind people?

In the pouring rain at about 1am, i ran with my belongings to the door of the hostel and rang. After a minute of waiting and the rain drenching my clothes and bags, a guys answered.

Another problem: he only spoke Portuguese. There is also a little courtyard after the first door before i reached the main door inside. But he did not want to let me in since I would mess up the lobby with my wet clothing and bags. The next few minutes consisted of him telling me that the hostel was full, me trying to make reservations for the next day, and him pointing outside to another hostel nearby that I could walk to….in the rain!

I once again gathered my belongings and set out into the night in an unfamiliar city I had just arrived in. This seems to happen more often than I prefer. I bolted down the unevenly paved sidewalks as fast as the bags on my shoulders would allow, stepping in countless puddles along the way with glasses that fogged up as soon as I left the hostel. I removed my glasses, able to see slightly. I passed many bars and restaurants with the patrons staring and chuckling at me.

That was one of many moments that make me realize that I love to travel. The absurdity of the situation makes it so adventurous and fun, even if in reality I should feel miserable and sorry for myself.

I continued walking with my eyes pointed to the end of the endless street where I was supposed to make a right…I thought. I turned right and it was a dead end, a long one. I continued to the end (another 5 minutes) and did not see another hostel in sight. At the end of the block, I abandoned my belongings under the cover of a tree and darted back down the street and to the left to where I started. That’s when I saw it, a big sign reading “Hostel Brasil.” It seems that the hostel worker has meant it was on the right hand side of the street…not to make a right.

So once again, I ran down to the end of the street to claim my belongings which were now soaked.

I forgot to mention: I was wearing my $2 flip flops I bought at CVS back home the entire time. Also, the straps on my backpack had broken a few weeks back. That basically means that the backpack’s purpose of feeling light by it being strapped around the hips no longer works. Inste
ad, it feels its true weight…over 50 lbs.

With my belongings in tow, I made it to my new hostel with available space. I never felt better. They welcomed me, threw a warm towel over my head, and showed me to my room where I slept exceptionally well.