Down the Coast of Brazil by Bus - Part 2 (Olinda, Recife, Salvador and Ouro Preto)

Between the 16^th and 19^th Centuries, historians believe that over 11 million slaves were brought to the Americas from Africa (via Europe) – mainly by the Portuguese (who started this heinous trend), the British, the Spanish, the French and the Dutch. Moreover, approximately 1.2 to 2 million enslaved people died on the ships during the trans-Atlantic crossings, making this slave trade one of the greatest massacres in the history of mankind. Some died from severe malnutrition and the outbreak of diseases, whilst others killed themselves by refusing to eat, hanging themselves with their own chains or throwing themselves into the sea where they were eaten by sharks. A number of European ports, such as Bristol and Liverpool, made a fortune from their role during the slave trade since African slaves were first sent to specific ports in Europe before crossing the Atlantic. 

A depiction of slaves being shipped to the Americas

The majority of these African slaves were sent to South America to work in mines or on plantations. More than 37% of these people were sent to Brazil. For various reasons, the indigenous people whom the European colonisers of South America had enslaved did not prove to be the most productive workers (many died from disease or fatigue, whilst others committed suicide to avoid a life of brutal slavery). Therefore, the cruel masters looked elsewhere for free labour to keep on plundering the natural resources of the South American continent and their preferred choice was Africa. Travelling down the coast of Brazil, there is much historical evidence of this colonisation and slavery – both in the architecture of so many cities and towns and also in the demography and culture of the people who live there. 

Life on the plantations

Sofia and I headed down south to the city of Recife, with the intention of visiting the well-preserved colonial town of Olinda, barely a few kilometres north from Recife. Both the large city and its smaller neighbour lie along the north-eastern coast of Brazil. Getting to Olinda was easy since Recife has an efficient metro system that connects the remote bus terminal to the city centre. Once you get to the centre, it’s just a short bus ride to Olinda. You can tell that you’ve arrived when you start seeing marvellous historical churches sprouting all over a number of green hills overlooking the sea. We hopped off the bus, zigzagging our way through a lively book-fair, and soon found a hostel in the town centre. The hostel was almost empty so we surprisingly managed to negotiate a good price to stay in a large dorm, after refusing the high price the receptionist had initially asked for.

The green hills of Olinda with Recife in the background

By the sea in Olinda

 

We then began to roam around the cobbled streets of the hilly seaside town. The colonial architecture all around town is very well preserved, meaning that you can discover several streets slightly away from the centre that manage to avoid feeling touristy. There are many glamorous churches scattered around the town which you can visit and, while doing so, it’s hard not to notice the irony of a gold-littered church dedicated to the humble St. Francis (famous for renouncing the riches of his family to live in poverty)! 

Cobbled streets and colourful houses

One of Olinda's many colonial churches

The rich interior of a church - St. Francis may not have liked this

We were lucky to arrive in Olinda on a Sunday evening, when Alto da Sé (a large square on top of one of the highest hills) is bustling with life. Around the square is an artisanal market focusing on the town’s famous Carnival traditions, food and drink stalls with typical products from the region, live music by local groups and youngsters performing capoeira. The view from up there is memorable, especially at sunset. To the south, the sun sinks behind the imposing Recife skyline – an impressive line-up of skyscrapers that look as magical from a distance at dusk as they seem intimidating from close during the day. 

Lively evening in Alto da Se

Murals depicting Olinda's carnival

I drank a large ‘caipifruta’ (a fruit-flavoured caiprinha tasting somewhat like a rather alcoholic milkshake). It’s easy to forget the alcohol content as you gulp down the sweet concoction so I soon found myself tipsy, enjoying the street food – in particular the typical acaraje (deep fried black-eyed peas rolled in balls and served with shrimps: a dish originating from West Africa) – and letting my mind sway to the African rhythm of drums. The reddish colours of the Atlantic sky at dusk combined with the music and bustle, the energy released by the young capoeira performers and the alcohol in my system brought about a unique feeling. I was joyfully overwhelmed by the delights of this place. The African percussions and European-style Baroque churches blended into one big cultural melange brought about by a ruthless history – a past that was momentarily forgotten in the midst of the present cheerful frenzy. Whilst the negative effects of colonialism can still be strongly felt in many parts of Brazil, on this particular evening all that was felt were the traditions of this multi-cultural society it unknowingly created. The African persons brought to these shores as slaves by the Europeans had eventually managed to free themselves and were able to contribute their own culture and music to what is now an independent Brazil.

Traditional acaraje stand in Alto da Se - giving street food a good name!

Sunset over Recife as seen from Olinda

At the hostel, we were lucky to meet a wonderful young Spanish girl called Maria, who had been living in Sao Paolo for the past few months. What struck me about her is her passion for human rights and the fighting spirit she uses towards positive activism. For example, she had recently participated in the protests against the social injustices in Brazil. Being a newly graduated lawyer, she volunteered for a group of local Sao Paolo lawyers who provided legal support to the protesters and monitored the peaceful protests to ensure that the participants were not mishandled by the police. Things didn’t always work out and Maria found herself beaten on her head by the police on one occasion, finding herself needing stitches at a nearby hospital where she was judged as a trouble-maker by the hospital staff for participating in the protests. We spent the evening with Maria, chatting about human rights and her wish to be able to make a difference as a professional. When we eventually parted ways, we promised to visit her in Sao Paolo when we get there – hoping that the timing would be right and that she wouldn’t have returned to Spain by then.

 

Beyond the stunning historical buildings and the mixture of ethnicities and cultures of Brazilian citizens, colonisation left behind a structure of social injustice that is still very prevalent in South America’s largest country (as well as in many other countries in the continent). The further south I travelled, the more I could observe a richer Brazil that awkwardly contrasts with the disenfranchised poor. Whilst the bombastic colonial buildings and history of the rubber barons did sit uncomfortably with the poverty seen in Manaus and around the Amazon region, the jungle is generally so rough around the edges in itself that the contrast between the rich and poor isn’t as jarring.

The less glamorous side of Olinda

Before heading even further south to the city of Salvador, we decided to spend our last day in the city of Recife itself. Despite being a very large city, mostly comprising of tall modern buildings, it also has a lot of history and culture to offer around the city centre. Taking advantage of the metro, we went to the bus terminal and dropped our heavy backpacks there in order to roam around freely. We had a night bus to catch for Salvador leaving at 7pm and needed to make sure to get back to the terminal by then. Buses in Brazil are expensive compared to Ecuador, Peru and Venezuela, so we couldn’t afford to throw our money down the drain by missing this long-distance bus. Nevertheless, with a metro taking us all the way directly from the city centre to the bus terminal in about 20 minutes, we were sure we wouldn’t have any problems to get there on time.

Sofia at a metro station in Recife - before the system let us down

Recife is definitely worth a visit. There are a number of historical squares, museums, churches and other buildings spread out amongst the main islands that comprise the historical centre of the city (the main areas of interest are ‘Santo Antonio’ and ‘Recife Antigo’). Moreover, not being one of the more popular tourist destinations along the Brazilian coast, prices are much more reasonable here than in other cities further south. I enjoyed walking through the busy streets and squares, also visiting the decidedly non-touristy central market. We made our way to the ‘Recife Antigo’ area (which is located on the island called Ilha do Recife) and visited a free exhibition of the Catalan artist Joan Miró. They call Recife the ‘Venice of Brazil’ due to its canals, which I find to be an exaggerated comparison since there aren’t that many canals and much of the city has been modernised. Yet, there is still much to enjoy here and I did wish I’d have given myself another day to visit even more museums and historical sites. 

Relaxed atmosphere in one of Recife's large squares

Not quite Venice - but still lovely!

One interesting aspect of the history of these two close neighbours, Olinda and Recife, is the conflict between the Portuguese and the Dutch for the control of the territory, spurred by pure economic gain (the Dutch wanted more direct control over the sugar plantations in the region). Both colonial forces were rather brutal and destructive, forging the fate of this part of the world. In the context of today’s European Union and the independence of Brazil, all those battles seem so futile in hindsight. Europeans often tend to forget that the greatest booms in their own development and culture occurred by plundering natural resources from other continents, mostly from Africa and South America, and by enslaving persons from these two continents. Not only did this help Europe prosper rapidly and unfairly, but it also meant that Africa and South America were kept lagging behind for centuries – and this is still being felt till today.

Recife's colonial architecture - worth a visit

At 5pm, a good two hours before our bus was meant to leave from the terminal, Sofia and I went to the metro station to give us enough time not to run for our bus in a last minute panic. Yet we did end up panicking when found out that the metro line heading to the bus terminal was not working at that moment and were given no information as to why, how long it would be shut down for and what alternative means of transport to take. Not understanding much Portuguese hindered communication but we seemed to understand that we could catch another metro and head to the airport, from where we could catch a bus to the terminal. Having just under two hours left, we felt we could still make it. On arriving at the airport, however, we found a huge queue of people waiting for the same bus, and no bus arrived for about 15 minutes. Asking around, Sofia managed to figure out that the bus terminal was actually quite far from the airport and that we would never get there on time. We decided that it was worth trying to catch a taxi, no matter how much it cost, since losing our expensive bus tickets would cost us even more. Moreover, we needed to get our bags from the storage at the terminal. 

A large city to cross through quickly!

As fate would have it, I had already booked a hostel for our next stop – something I hadn’t done before on this travel – using the website ‘Airbnb’, where prices tend to be better than average since many hostels listed are actually homes of persons who are hosting people. Apart from Praia da Pipa (where we knew we’d camp), Salvador was going to be the first really touristy city I was arriving to on this travel. More than finding hostels full up, I was concerned about high prices. I eventually booked the cheapest dorm beds I could find in a neighbourhood a bit far from the old centre but next to the sea, which seemed fine to me. ‘Airbnb’ makes you pay a percentage of the price beforehand so I wondered what would happen if we did not turn up on the day I had already paid for. Another compelling reason not to miss our bus.

I spotted two backpackers who seemed as lost and worried as us and figured out they may be in the same fix. I approached them and lo-and-behold they were French backpackers with tickets for the very same bus we were due to catch. We decided to share a taxi but even that was surprisingly hard to find. We finally managed to stop a taxi but the driver told us there was no way we would get to the bus terminal on time. By the time we found the taxi, we had about 50 minutes left for the departure of our bus, but the driver reckoned we would need over an hour to get there. We begged him to try anyway, hoping that our bus might leave a few minutes late and give us the time we needed to catch it. The 6pm Recife traffic was intense and the distance was huge. It’s in the midst of crossing a city in a hurry that you realise how big it actually is. I wonder why the bus terminal is so far away from the city centre, making it so hard to access when the metro isn’t working.

To our relief, the taxi driver approached the bus terminal a few minutes before seven. We asked the French couple to run to the bus and stop it from leaving whilst we dashed off to get our luggage from the bag storage. In the end, we got to the bus before it left, placed our backpacks in the compartment under the bus and made our way to our seats. Recife to Salvador is more or less a 13 hour bus-ride (which could be much longer given all the substantial stops that long distance buses make in Brazil) so we sat down and hoped to relax along the way.

We arrived to Salvador late the next morning and followed the instructions we were given to find the hostel we had booked at (not too complicated since there was a direct bus we could catch). As we left the bus terminal, a young guy shouted something aggressive regarding me being a gringo. Not sure what he said but it pissed me off. Some street vendors also tried to grab our arms as we walked by. Somehow, when you reach touristic areas, people tend to become rather obnoxious.

Busy area around Salvador's bus Terminal

We caught our bus to the neighbourhood of Rio Vermelho and arrived there about 20 minutes later. The little hostel named ‘On the Rock’, which was actually a quaint converted old house, was located in a rather run-down but charming little seaside settlement built on a small hill overlooking the sea. It was raining at the time and nobody was at the hostel to open the door once we arrived. Some workmen at a neighbouring house told us to wait inside the building they were working on until the hostel owner returned. For a while, I regretted having found this place on Airbnb but all that changed once the lovely host returned home after about 40 minutes. Of course, it wasn’t her fault that we didn’t know the time of our arrival beforehand and she did have to go shopping at some point. 

The neighbourhood around the hostal in Rio Vermelho

Sofia at the entrance of 'On the Rock' Hostel

Fatima, the owner, is a cheerful woman approximately in her fifties who now lives on her own after her children grew up and have moved out of the house. She really made us feel at home during our stay. Though we were paying for a dorm, we were the only guests so we basically had our own private room. There’s a view of the sea from Fatima’s kitchen and the whole area really reminded me of the seaside town in Malta where my maternal grandparents used to lived. As we tried to communicate with Fatima in a mixture of makeshift Portuguese and Spanish, we realised that we were lucky to have a delightful host and that we were going to enjoy our few says in the capital of the Brazilian state of Bahia. Fatima explained how to get to the city centre and suggested things that were worth visiting there. Whilst Rio Vermelho isn’t within walking distance from the city centre, in hindsight it was far better to stay there and catch a bus into the centre, thus avoiding the touristy feel of the centre. Besides, the historical centre actually felt strangely dead at night after the bustling activity during the day, whilst Rio Vermelho really developed a good vibe and was frequented by local people after sunset.

The view from Fatima's kitchen

As a consequence of its history of sugar-plantations and resultant slavery, Bahia is now the state with the largest Afro-Brazilian population – and Salvador is the cultural heart (and capital) of the state. We visited a number of museums in Pelourinho (the historical centre), my favourite being the Afro-Brazilian Museum in the Terreiro de Jesus Square. The museum focuses on the culture and traditions brought from Africa by slaves. The Orishas are some of the most fascinating traditional African elements that are still alive here – they are believed to be spirits who rule over the forces of nature and the actions of humans. Outside the museum, capoeira and the beating of drums can be seen and heard around the historical centre during the day, mainly as a tourist attraction. Capoeira developed historically by slaves as a form of martial art disguised as a dance in order not to arouse the suspicions of their masters. The streets of Pelourinho are rendered stunning by the marvellously preserved and colourful colonial architecture. Another fascinating museum we visited in the same area focuses on the life and work of the writer Jorge Amado, famous for his novels with a social emphasis, often based in the state of Bahia. 

Women in traditional clothes in Pelourinho

A lively band marches through the cobbled streets

One of the Orishas as depicted in the Museum of Afro-Brazilian Culture

But there is more to Salvador than the architecture and museums of Pelourinho and the Afro-Brazilian culture. The coast is blessed with a seemingly infinite line of sandy beaches where people sunbathe, swim, surf or play football. The food in the state of Bahia is rather special too. The prize of best dish must go to the moqueca, a salt water fish stew in coconut milk, tomatoes, onions, garlic, coriander and some palm oil, which we ate at a food stall at the Mercado Modelo by the sea. Religious devotion at the church of Nosso Senhor do Bonfim is another fascinating aspect of the local culture in the city. Here, people tie small coloured ribbons around the church hoping that their wishes or prayers will come true. The fascinating aspect of this church is how Catholicism and traditional African beliefs blend together. The Church is a short but pleasant bus ride that takes you out of the centre and along the coast. Once we visited the church, we walked towards the sea and reached the little fortress of Mont Serrat just in time to enjoy an amazing sunset over the Todos os Santos Bay.

One of Salvador's many beaches

Activity in the Mercado Modelo

Tie a ribbon for good luck - hope at the gates of Bonfim's church

Pay for a photo next to a Pope statue! (... somehow they forgot the German one)

Mont Serrat - a good place to relax and watch the sunset

Sofia and I roamed around a lot of the city on foot over four days and noticed a big gap between the affluent and those with way too little. On one of the evenings, a local girl whom we got in touch with through a friend-of-a-friend picked us up and, despite our warnings that we were on a backpacker’s budget, she took us to a really upscale club with an expensive entrance fee and where food cost way too much. She hardly seemed interested in us anyway so Sofia and I sneaked out and went to grab some food whilst the girl got drunk and disappeared into the fancy crowd that seemed to love her in a superficial sort of way. We then returned to the little neighbourhood where Fatima lived – which the upper-class girl referred to in a disgusted voice as a ‘favela’. I somehow felt more at home in this so-called favela than surrounded by upper-class young people with way too much money. 

Playing football barefooted

Nature, in the form of the city's beaches, is kinder than the economic system

One interesting thing I observed is that, despite that fact that the state of Bahia has such a large Afro-population, the people who seemed to be better off financially were mainly white. We were also very surprised at the prices of so many products and services which actually seemed much more expensive than the respective prices in Europe or USA, obviously sending them beyond the reach of people with a lower income. One little pleasure I tend to enjoy is going to the cinema – but when I was asked for the equivalent of about 20 USD to watch a movie (there was only the ‘deluxe’ option available) I realised that I wouldn’t be watching any movies at the cinema in Salvador. This dual nature of ‘too expensive’ mixed with ‘too poor’ is one of the main problems with Brazil today – a remnant of the unjust colonial days and with largely the same demography of people benefitting from the imbalance at the expense of the Afro and indigenous populations. Overall, my experience in Salvador was bitter-sweet. I loved the historical architecture, the museums, the colourful Afro-Brazilian culture, the way this lovely city lies along a gorgeous coast, Fatima and here simple but welcoming house by the sea. On the other hand, I was upset by the luxury sitting so comfortably on top the poverty, happily making many pleasures of life beyond the reach of a chunk of the population. But one has to hand it to the Brazilians – even in the midst of poverty, they still seem to have a thirst for life and happiness that often eludes more affluent societies. 

He may not be rich - but he's not going to give up on smiling

Leaving Salvador behind us, Sofia and I headed to another town drastically forged by colonisation: Ouro Preto – a town in the Minas Gerais state once known for its goldmines. I had first read about this town in the essential-to-read book ‘Las Venas Abiertas de America Latina’ by the Uruguayan writer and journalist Eduardo Galeano and was curious to see what remained of it. It was a very long bus ride from Salvador to Belo Horizonte, where we had to catch another bus to Ouro Preto. We were left in a bus station in the middle of nowhere after dark and got a bit lost till we made our way to the main bus terminal. Thankfully there was a metro we could take to get there. That night, as we waited for our bus, we met a very charming young Italian guy called Luca and immediately become friends. He was heading the same way so we joined up. Arriving in the little hilly town of Ouro Preto late at night in the rain, we set out to look for a cheap hostel and eventually found one, Rosario Hostel (not to be confused with the hotel that goes by the same name), about 15 minutes’ walk from the centre, run by a very friendly and helpful young woman called Louisa. It never stopped raining in the couple of days we spent in the town but this didn’t stop us from exploring the little cobbled streets. 

A view from above of a small neighbourhood in Ouro Preto

Quaint old houses and green hills in Ouro Preto

Ouro Preto still maintains the rich colonial architecture and is now a student town that thrives on tourism. Gone are the mining days but visitors can still visit a couple of mines in the area to get a feel of what life was for the miners during the time of slavery. We visited a mine that was eventually bought by a freed slave called Chico Rei and got all muddy as we crawled our way through the tunnels with a little torch. We were quite a mess when we came out – muddy and wet. The story of Chico Rey is fascinating: he was a tribal leader from the Congo region who, in approximately 1740, was kidnapped along with a large number of his tribe and sold into slavery. He and his tribe members were shipped to Brazil to work in the gold mines. Noticing his position of authority amongst his tribe, the Portiguese gave him the nickname of ‘Chico Rei’ (which would be translated either as the Boy King or the Little King). Whilst working in the goldmines over the period of approximately five years, he used to hide pieces of gold in his hair and smuggle them out until he eventually had gathered enough resources to buy his own freedom and that of his son. He eventually also bought a goldmine (the one we visited in Ouro Preto) and started to help other slaves to also buy their own freedom. The freed slaves eventually built their own church on top of one of Ouro Preto’s many hills.

Luca climbs through Chico Rei's mines

Statue of Chico Rei

Indeed, there are a number of richly adorned churches scattered along the green hills which the town is built upon. I must admit that I was somewhat upset that we had to pay (more than just a little token fee) to visit each and every church – ironically also the church built by the slaves for themselves. Money, money, money. But what about the soul? One of the churches has a little museum dedicated to the famous sculptor Aleijhadinho, who was born in the town in the 18^th Century to a Portuguese man and his African slave.

One of Ouro Preto's many churches on a hill

The state of Minas Gerais has a number of traditional dishes worth tasting. Sofia, Luca and I found an ‘all-you-can-eat’ buffet for a very reasonable price in the centre of town which offered a number of these dishes. I was surprised that, beyond history and good food, the Minas Gerias also has two teams that are currently dominating the football scene in Brazil. Cruzerio and Atletico Mineiro (both from Belo Horizonte) played the cup final whilst we were in Ouro Preto and the town divided between supporters of one or the other team. Our lovely host Louisa was sad to see her beloved Cruzeiro lose in the end.

The main square of Ouro Preto

During our stay in Ouro Preto, it was a pleasure to become friends with a young adventurous person like Luca, travelling across the continent whilst working in hostels and restaurants. He has the talent to become a good cook and the intelligence to learn new skills as he goes along. His intelligence is complemented by an easy-going charm, allowing him to easily make many friends along the way. He had spent some time living in Rio de Janeiro so he gave us some tips on what to do and see there. In fact, Rio was the next stop we had planned – and it was just a night bus ride away.

Down the Coast of Brazil by Bus - Part 1 (Macapá, Belem and Praia da Pipa)

  

When I once took some Spanish lessons, the teacher asked me why I chose to learn the language. I enthusiastically answered that I always dreamt of living in Brazil. She looked at me in with a puzzled expression and suggested that I was in the wrong class – that I should seek Portuguese lessons instead. I felt very embarrassed by my dumb blunder but, sadly, I never did take up her suggestion. As a child, I fantasised about living in the Brazilian jungle, running around barefooted with animals as my friends. I’d live in a tree house and, at times, I’d walk to the centre of Rio de Janeiro (which of course, in my fantasy world, was just a short walk away from my jungle tree house). Together with my animal friends, I’d do good deeds in the city and save the day when needed. That was basically it – my childhood fantasy of Brazil. In the present, I was heading down the coast of Brazil, to discover this country that I had only previously dreamt of. Would it live up to those dreams?

This kid was dreaming of living in the Brazilian jungle

I hardly got any sleep on the 6pm bus from the border town of Oiapoque (in the extreme northeast of country – next to French Guiana) to the city of Macapá. The road was bumpy and the bus seemed to stop every hour or so for people to get off and buy some food or go to the toilet – which they did every time even if it was the middle of the night. We arrived in Macapá at about 4am so the bus ride turned out to be much less than the 12 hours I had predicted. I therefore did what I usually do when I arrive at a new destination so early in the morning: I found a safe-looking spot in the bus terminal and took a nap till sunrise. Once the sun was up, I began to focus on the essentials. My first big worry was a lack of cash. I only had a few pennies with me due to the fact that, since leaving Manaus, I wasn’t able to withdraw cash in any ATMs in Brazil. Before doing anything else, I needed to sort that out.

Not even 20 hours previously, I was still stuck by the roadside in the middle of French Guiana – trying without luck to hitch a ride to the capital of the French overseas department, Cayenne. I couldn’t believe that I was already in Macapá so soon after. My luck had changed very suddenly thanks to a kind immigrant from Guiana Bissau. It was now about 6am on Monday 10^th November (2014). I had two days left for the date when I had agreed to be in Belem to meet my girlfriend, Sofia. She was meant to arrive by cargo boat down the Amazon River from Santarem but I hadn’t heard from her for several days. I just hoped she would stick to her part of the plan as I hoped to stick to mine. Macapá isn’t connected by road to the rest of Brazil south of the Amazon River, so I needed to catch a boat from there. Given the very poor information available online, I wasn’t sure which days the boat left, how many days it would take to arrive to Belem and how much it would cost. I only knew one thing: if I couldn’t access any cash in Macapá, I wouldn’t be able to catch any boat or other means of transport, no matter how much it cost.

I tried to withdraw money from a couple of ATMs at the bus terminal but they didn’t work. I kept calm and decided to walk to the centre of town to look for a bank but a friendly young guy told me that the centre of town was actually a few kilometres away so there was no way I could get there on foot. I counted my very last pennies and saw that I had just about enough to pay for one local bus ride. After that, I wouldn’t even be able to buy a bottle of water. Thankfully it was a Monday and banks would be open in a couple of hours. If no ATM in town worked, I would at least try to withdraw cash directly from the bank employees for a fee as I had done in Guyana. I hoped onto the next bus heading to the centre and indeed it took a while to arrive to its destination. Macapa is a surprisingly big city in the sense that it’s very spread out. There are no high-rise buildings as in other Brazilian cities, but it did seem to be home to a considerable amount of people (just under half a million). As I started to see more shops and people walking in the street, I realised I was in the centre. I therefore tried to get off at a particular stop but didn’t get down from the bus in time. I did manage to get off at the following stop though – and the previous missed-stop turned out to be a major blessing since the same international bank where I have my main account has a branch exactly where I got off the bus. I couldn’t believe my luck. I had somehow thought that Macapá would be a tiny fishing village – I had never imagined I would have found a branch of the bank I use in my home country of Malta. 

A stroll by the river in Macapa

It was still very early in the morning and the bank wasn’t open yet but I tried the ATMs to see if I could avoid waiting till the opening hour. My credit card didn’t work. As a backup, I had a debit card with me … and lo-and-behold, the ATM screen greeted me with my very own name and surname! I knew at that moment that my cash problems were solved. Indeed, the debit card worked and I withdrew enough cash in Brazilian currency to keep me going for at least three weeks. That cash in hand felt like fresh air after almost suffocating! I felt so happy that I hopped around like a silly fool.

Defending the Amazonian colonies: the old fortress of Macapa

I could now focus on the next step: getting a boat to Belem. But first, I wanted to roam around Macapá for a bit since I felt I had enough time on my hands (though this was only my perception since I had no concrete information as to when the next boat for Belem would leave, from where and if there was even going to be any boats leaving that day or even the next)! With my new-found bliss, I roamed towards the coast and noticed a fortress along the riverbank. Some locals were enjoying a morning jog as I passed by with all my belongings on my back. I walked beyond the fortress and spotted a little port from where some cargo ships were docked. I was hoping that I had found my boat but the staff at the port told me that boats to Belem actually leave from the little nearby suburb of Santana (which is not within walking distance). I went back to the centre to find my way to Santana and was told that buses heading there leave from in front of the old central market, which is right across the road from the fortress. The market is quite picturesque and people were already sitting around having breakfast at the stalls.

Macapa's Central Market

After a short while, the bus for Santana picked me up in front of the market and I arrived there after about 30 or 40 minutes. Once in Santana, I got off the bus and asked for the port so some helpful people pointed me in the right direction. I had barely arrived when a man on a bicycle approached me and asked if I was looking for a boat to Belem. I told him that I indeed was and he said that he worked for a company that had a cargo ship leaving in a couple of hours’ time (at 10am). Things were going my way now – the timing of everything was just perfect. I must point out that in Brazil, people often come up to you with useful information (in Portuguese) and make things really easy. What a difference from French Guiana where most people hardly even look at you. The helpful man told me that the boat would arrive in Belem after about 24 hours so I would actually get there a full day before I had expected to. The man got off his bicycle and walked with me to his office. I paid him 130 Reales for the ticket and stocked up with some food for the boat ride since, unlike other Amazon cargo boats I had been on, this one provides no free food. I basically bought water, bread, mustard and some biscuits to keep me going till I get to my destination the following day. For the sake of information, I tried to find out if these cargo ships leave from Santana every day. I didn’t quite understand if they do or not due to the language barrier – but I suspect they do indeed leave every day at about 10am, except for Sundays.

The little river-port of Santana

I boarded the cargo boat and met a few other passengers on the deck hanging up their hammocks. I had no hammock so I rolled out my sleeping bag and used it as a cushion as I sat on the floor. A kind old lady took an interest in me – I was obviously this strange-looking person from some far away land sitting on the floor on his own with all his belongings. I’m not sure if she took pity on me or felt that she had to be kind out of a sense of hospitality. Either way, she gave me a plastic chair from the cabin she was staying in and kept on asking me if I had enough food and if I wanted a coffee. Unfortunately, I couldn’t really communicate with her due to a lack of understanding of spoken Portuguese. Before leaving on this travel, I had tried to read Portuguese texts and understood them well. I had therefore thought that I would also easily understand the spoken language. I was very wrong.

The cargo ship being loaded as we wait to leave

Heavy duty: loading the ship

The cargo ship left from the port of Santana later than scheduled (at about 11am), after loading all goods to be taken to Belem. This is a very interesting part of the Amazon since there are a number of fluvial islands, some very large, scattered around towards the mouth of the river at the Atlantic Ocean. The small ship from Santana to Belem passes through these islands, the largest of which is the Island of Marajó (which is apparently the size of Switzerland). On this island, people use buffalos as a means of transport. Even policemen in uniform go around on buffalo back! Legend has it that these buffalos first landed there after the ship they were being transported on was shipwrecked just off the island.

Passing through the jungle islands along the river

I spent the next few hours reading, writing and watching the stunning view of the jungle which covered the islands. We passed stretches of river that were very wide and others which were rather narrow. Several kilometres of uninhabited jungle alternated with spots where little wooden houses were scattered along the riverside. Children could be seen swimming and playing beneath these simple houses. Some people were rowing around on their canoes. Everything seemed so peaceful and lovely here. This part of the world seems to be very unspoilt by the clutches of man-made ‘progress’.

Life in peaceful isolation

A care-free childhood

As the sun was setting, two impish little boys on board started to take an interest in me. The other passengers made signs to me to watch out for my belongings. They suspected that the interest of the little boys was not an innocent one. I’m not sure if the boys indeed intended to snatch my belongings whilst I wasn’t looking. Just in case, I did shoot a few stern looks at them and stayed firmly next to my possessions throughout the journey. Nevertheless, when they came along to see what I was writing, I did talk to them and showed them my tattered little diary. They seemed quite amazed for a while – and then they got bored since writing isn’t the most fun thing to watch. Nothing got stolen that night and I didn’t see the little boys again the following morning. I spent the night huddled in my sleeping bag, leaning against my backpack to ensure that nobody touches it. I slept reasonably well on the whole.

 

Nature all around

 

We were still passing by jungle islands by sunrise the following morning. Only a few hours later, approximately 24 hours after leaving from Santana, the ship exited from a narrow river into a very wide stretch of river that almost looked like the sea. I could see big ships around and skyscrapers in the distance. We were obviously close to Belem. As the ship approached the skyscrapers that were towering along the Belem skyline, my heart sank. After so many wild adventures in the Amazon, here I was at the mouth of the river where this part of the travel was about to end. I wasn’t looking forward to land in this seemingly intimidating city – but I was soon surprised to find out that it would become one of my favourite cities in Brazil.

Belem: Intimidating skyline

Once the ship arrived at its destination, I hopped off and started to look for a cheap hostel, eventually finding one in the city centre for 20 Reales per night for a dorm bed. Privacy isn’t the order of the day there, with my dorm having no walls – but the atmosphere was good and I quickly made friends with the other guests. I checked my emails to see if Sofia had also arrived from Santarem and to tell her where I was. There were no messages from her – neither to say that she had left Santarem, nor which day she had planned to arrive in Belem. I therefore had no idea when or if she would arrive, considering that the boat ride between the two Amazonian cities takes a couple of days. I accepted that I had to wait and see what would happen, also since I had arrived a day earlier than expected thanks to my good luck with hitch-hiking in French Guiana –  and my bad luck with couch-surfing (which meant that I didn’t spend the night in the expensive Cayenne).

Colonial buildings mixed with a modern hustle and bustle

"Why the long face?" One of the more particular encounters on the streets of Belem!

I didn’t remain alone for long, though, as I met a very friendly Brazilian man called Joao who was occupying on the upper part of my bunk-bed. Joao is from Salvador and had recently been swindled on a major scale by the person who had sold him his house. Joao had worked many years to buy his dream house in the countryside – and now that he had finally set it all up to his liking, it was gone … together with his money. He found himself in the midst of a legal battle to either get the house or his money back and it was taking its toll on him. To make matters worse, his wife of many years had recently left him for another man. Feeling stressed and rather dejected, he decided to leave it all behind him and hit the road for a while. It was probably the most sensible solution to try and maintain his sanity, though he did admit that he was still extremely affected by what he had been through.

Belem's impressive opera house

An unexpectedly attractive city

Joao and I hit the roads of Belem’s old centre and, to my surprise, what from afar on the cargo ship had seemed like a skyscraper-laden monstrous city turned out to be extremely pleasant with lots of culture and museums, colonial architecture (including an opera house and a fort that one can visit) and a number of bustling markets next to the river. The most famous and picturesque of the markets is the Ver-o-Peso, where you can eat the typical acai with fish. Acai is a purple-coloured berry which grows on palm trees in the Amazon and has a very particular bitter taste that requires some getting used to. It is also said to have an extremely high nutritious value, actually being considered one of the healthiest foods around. Here in Belem, it is eaten as a soup and is generally accompanied by fried fish. Acai is also popular in most of Brazil as frozen pulp, with sugar added to make it sweet and other ingredients such as cereal and fruit added by request. Next to the Ver-o-Peso market is a very quaint little port for fishing boats, which actually seem to be the home of a number of people. Belem is famous for being the location of one of the largest religious gatherings in the world: the Círio de Nossa Senhora de Nazaré (The Candle of Our Lady of Nazareth) which is said to attract as many as two million participants each year. Nevertheless, what I loved most in Belem was watching the sunset by the riverbank, seeing the jungle trees in the distance on the other side of the in the Guajará Bay, at the estuary of the rivers Guamá and Pará (which branch out from the Amazon River).

 

The Ver-o-Peso Market along the river

The fishing port of Belem

Full of activity: the markets of Belem

Taking a nap: a fisherman enjoys a relaxing moment on his boat

 

The following day, Sofia still didn’t turn up so I got a bit worried since it was the day we had agreed to meet on. I was also somewhat upset since it should have been easy for her to arrive in Belem on the right day, making use of the frequent boats in this part of the Amazon. To pass the time, Joao and I went to the botanical garden which also had a little zoo and museum. One thing that struck me in the museum was a section on pre-Colombian cave paintings found in Monte Alegre, along the Amazon River (not too far from the city of Santarem). If I ever find myself in this part of the world again, I’ll surely try to visit these archaeological findings from approximately 7500 year ago. So many discoveries of pre-Colombian culture indicate that the indigenous people wiped out by the European colonisers were far from being the mindless savages that the Europeans claimed they were. I often wonder how the South American continent would have evolved had the Europeans never arrived and practically destroyed the populations who lived there together with their culture (apart from a few exceptions).

Bamboo reeds in the botanical garden

After I had given up hope of seeing Sofia that day, she finally turned up at my hostel in the evening. Her boat had arrived several hours later than scheduled. She had obviously received the message I had sent her by email but she hadn’t seen it before checking into another cheap hostel. She turned up with Andres, a Colombian youngster she had met on the boat. Andres is a craftsman who makes jewellery using special stones and he travels a lot to acquire such stones. He lives in Rio de Janeiro and was heading down the coast of Brazil in order to get back home. Andres already knew Belem rather well so he took us around that evening and we ended up eating acai and fish at the Ver-o-Peso market. Being very outgoing and friendly (as many Colombians tend to be), Andres knew several vendors at the market and stopped to speak to them as we roamed around. The vendors obviously seemed to love the guy.

Friendly atmosphere - the riverside markets

Along the streets of Belem

The world being a small place, Andres also introduced us to a Colombian refugee whom I recognised from Lago Agrio. The young fellow has a tragic past, having seen his wife murdered by irregular armed groups in his home country, and he never quite got over it. He’s now roaming around South America, feeling sorry for himself and angry with the world – trying to find a new place to call home but never quite managing to fit in anywhere. Often, a negative attitude keeps people tied to a horrible past and prevents them from moving ahead in life. Hopefully, it’s only a phase in this person’s life – but it could go on haunting him for the rest of his life. That evening, we said goodbye to Andres and took down his contact details in order to try and meet him when we passed through Rio.

The old centre at dusk

Sofia and I planned to catch a 36-hour bus ride heading south the following night to get to the city of Natal. There were other places to visit in the area around Belem such as the charming Marajo Island and the colonial city of Sao Jose, which is about 12 hours south. Nevertheless, we thought it would be best to start heading further south as soon as possible given that we had just over two months to reach Patagonia during the austral summer, with plenty of places to travel to before that. Brazil is enormous so it isn’t possible to see everything of interest in a month and a half. We decided to stop in Natal to take a break along the long bus travel to the south. From there, we would go straight to Praia da Pipa (Pipa Beach), which is considered one of the most beautiful beaches in Brazil. I reckoned that it would be a good place to stop for a night or two to rest along the way. I also wanted to see a bit of the famous Brazilian coast. Further north is the famous beach town of Jericoacoara. My friend Xavi (who crossed the Amazon with me) and his girlfriend Catia (who joined us in Manaus) had been to Jericoacoara and told us that it’s a great place for backpackers to chill and have fun. Nevertheless, it would have taken us a number hours off the main route to get there, thus not being a very convenient stop. Pipa worked fine for us since it’s very close to Natal and not too far from our next destinations: Recife and Olinda.

The 36-hour bus ride to Natal wasn’t too bad in the end. The bus stopped often (perhaps too often) but the seats were comfortable and the views from the window were interesting as we passed through the often-changing landscape of the northeast coast of Brazil and some small towns and villages along the way. Apparently, this part of the country has been largely affected by deforestation and the poorly planned exploitation of resources, leading to a rather unfertile land in some places where there was once lush vegetation. Certain parts of the area also seemed to be affected by mining. Due to the lack of sustainability in exploiting the land in the past, there are far less natural resources left, leading to much poverty and very little to show for the several decades of destruction of nature. It is all gone, like dust in the wind. Perhaps some greedy plantation owners in the past became very rich. They’re now dead and their riches have gone with them. All that is left is a desolate unusable land, a curse for a number of generations to come. The mining and deforestation still going on till today in many parts of Brazil (and South America in general) shows that not much has been learnt from the terrible mistakes of the past.

Arid lands in the northeastern state of Piauí

Sofia and I spent two nights and a day on the bus until arriving in Natal. It is always best to begin a 36-hour bus ride at night to be able to save yourself two nights of accommodation and arrive at your destination in the morning. Once in Natal, we changed bus and arrived at the seaside town of Pipa that same morning. Unfortunately for us, it was a Saturday so a large number of local tourists from nearby cities and towns invaded what was once a quiet fishing village (but which is now mainly one big tourist resort). My initial impression of the village is that it has lost any character it might have had in the past. Sofia and I found a camping spot at the back of a hotel, surrounded by other tents. Not speaking Portuguese, we couldn’t really communicate much with the other campers around us.

 

Weekend at the beach for many locals

There are a few lovely beaches around Pipa – long sandy beaches with cliffs right behind them. The nature is really quite impressive along this part of the Brazilian coast but there are way too many people at the weekends. Thankfully, the beaches are large enough to allow you to find a quieter spot if you walk far enough. Along the extensive beaches, a number of people were learning how to surf, taking advantage of the constant waves provided by the Atlantic Ocean. Others sunbathed and drank cocktails. Everything seemed to be a bit too expensive for our budget so we couldn’t really make the most of being here. Thankfully, having our tent meant that we didn’t pay much for accommodation and could simply enjoy a day at the beach, eating home-made sandwiches.

Outstanding natural coast

That night, tents seemed to sprout all around us at the most unearthly hours. Some of our camping neighbours also decided to keep their horrible techno music on full volume all night long. It wasn’t what we were hoping for after a 36-hour bus ride and a day in the sun on the beach. I hardly got any sleep that night and wished that people would learn how to respect each other. The following morning, we got up very early (whilst some of the other campers around us had just gone to sleep) and took the tent down. We packed everything and caught a local bus to a nearby village, from where we hoped to catch a bus headed to our next destination: the city of Recife. We eventually made our way to the highway, to catch one of the intercity buses that were heading down south. We didn’t have to wait too long. We hoped onto the bus and went to Recife, which was only a few hours away from Praia da Pipa – glad to be running away from the noisy, selfish weekend beach-crowd that had infested the area.

A surfer goes out to face the waves