Chapter 58: The Gathering of the Tribe
I’ve been in steamy sensual Brazil for the last month, a looping circular coastal trip from Florianopolis down near the border with Argentina up to Rio de Janeiro for Carnival, then to the beautiful national park of Jericoacoara in the north for my friend Chip’s joyous 40th birthday festivities, and finally down again to Salvador and Trancoso in magical Bahia for some much-needed R&R. (There are lots of photos later on in this blog, for those of you who hate to read.)
There is something ineffably sensuous and marvelous about Brazil. In my next life, I definitely want to come back as a Brazilian (albeit one with money). Unfortunately, however, in this life I can't escape my North American/European mentality and so traveling in Brazil always manages to drive me to the brink of my sanity, many times over. If you wish to get something done in Brazil, in a quick and logical manner, then I say good luck to you. You have a much greater chance of ending up in a straightjacket with a twitch and a relentless maniacal giggle.
It helps to have lots of patience in Brazil, but I have to be honest and tell you that valium is even more useful than patience. Especially if you are dealing with the local airline TAM. Even just typing T, A, M, causes a vein in my temple pulse viciously, so I dare not even begin to try to recount my tales, but they are legion, let me assure you. Oh, and you will also need your valium at hotel check-out time. Checking out will inevitably take more than an hour. And by the way, you'll also need to know how to run your credit card through the authorization machine yourself, because the hotel staff almost certainly won't know how. Screaming at the dimwits does not work.
First Stop Floripa
You just have to love the name Florianopolis, dontcha? Sounds so futuristic and cool, like the capital planet of an alien civilization in Star Wars or something. But in fact, Floripa (as it's called by the locals) is just a pretty island that's the capital of Santa Catarina state, down in the south near Argentina. It's about the size of Ibiza, with masses of emerald green vegetation, great beaches, a laid-back vibe, and lots of very beautiful people walking around with not very much clothing on. Discretion and a not insignificant dollop of heart-ache prevent me from saying more about my time in Floripa, so I'm going to move this travellogue swiftly along to Rio de Janiero, the sexiest city in the world.
Hanging with my Homies in Rainy Rio
Most years a large section of my London tribe of friends gather in Rio for Carnival. I think this was my fourth carnival in Rio in the last five years. However, this year was exceptional in one regard: climate. It rained nearly the entire time without pause. My clothes grew mold, but at least my skin was soft and lush.
Now, I grant you that Rio's rain is not like Canadian or British rain. It's warm and tropical, so you can still wear shorts and a t-shirt, but even so you don’t really feel like sitting on the beach. Raindrops plopping onto my head - even if they're warm - give me a headache. Consequently, against a backdrop of nonstop rain, clubbing and sex become the mode de vivre in Rio, where you’ve never seen so many beautiful people collected in one place. But after four visits I've come to the conclusion that - for me at least - Rio is like arriving at huge buffet table stocked with a vast and dazzling array of the most delicious and incredibly rich food. In the end, it’s ALL totally overwhelming and all you can eat is a lettuce leaf.
A friend passes the threshold and joins me on the dark side
After Rio's carnival, the tribe gathered its collective sorry ass at the airport and decamped upwards to Jericoacoara, a huge coastal park of sand dunes, scrub, lagoons, and beaches in Brazil's north-east, "near" (by Brazilian standards - this is a BIG country) Fortaleza.
The occasion was the 40th birthday of my good friend Chip. One of the reasons I love Chip is that behind all the outer beauty, our inner selves are quite similar: ever so slightly nerdish and factoid-addicted. Not only would Chip have excelled in chemistry class, I'm sure he enjoyed it as well. But Chip's inner dork is not the only one of his charms. When a number of us gave toasted Chip over dinner, we all mentioned the same wonderful quality: Chip's marvelous ability to bring people together, to make a group, to turn disparate friends into one big family.
In the photo of Chip below he looks happy. That's because he's surrounded by 40 of his closest friends, and nothing makes him happier in life than being surrounded by his friends. And clearly, the terrible reality of what's happening - a one way ticket to the dark side of life with no prospect of return journey - has not yet sunk in.
Oh, I had so much fun in Jeri, despite a a nasty case of food poisoning on the 5 hour drive there from Fortaleza airport (thanks to a delicious but deadly prawn risotto). I will spare you further details of my malady, and instead will tell you about the fun. It’s taken me some time to edit down the 5000 or so photos, so I’m gonna present you with just a few, which show the fun we had on a boating regatta...
...followed by sand buggies in the dunes...
...hiking...
...playing on the dunes next to the beach... (that's me, eating a mouthful of sand as we raced down the dune).
...and chilling out at the pousada...
...and not least a wonderful costume party. Check out the costumes that my dear friend Matthias and I made for the "tribal" party night out of grass skirts. We put some on our heads to make an AbFab meets the Flintstones kind of look. And we trimmed the backs.
If everyone looks happy, it's because they are:
Chip, our spectacularly organized host, and Robert, the group mama, decided to opt for modest costume dress:
Check out my Native American friend, Poco-Ho, as she plays coy with the camera:
We partied until the sun came up, even Sheila who never stays up:
The Great Brazilian Trek
After Jericoacoara, the tribe thinned scattered but a few of us (Alasdair, Omer, David, Marck and me) went bravely on to Bahia which is said to be the heart and soul of Brazil. Getting there took more than 30 hours, because of, well, because it was Brazil. We missed our flight. Why? Because our car transport service to the airport broke down in the middle of nowhere. Check out our driver, trying to get a signal on his mobile.
Stepping into a Time Warp
But eventually, we arrived in Salvador, the main city of Bahia, and the original capital of all-Brazil, and even today the center of Afro-Brazilian culture and music and cuisine. Our Bahian friend Marck kept pushing us to eat the typical local dish called a moquecas, a type of seafood stew, but it rather disgusted us, since it appeared to be principally comprised of things (small crabs and icky snails) that had been sheltering under a rock on a dirty beach.
The old part of Salvador, called Pelhourino, is situated high on a bluff overlooking the port, and it’s quite beautiful, with cobbled streets and wonderful old colonial buildings.
But it's in a time-warp. Check out the phone booths!
In 20 years, once the developers have really got their hands into it, this city will be magic. Unfortunately, I was serotonin depleted by the time I arrived in Salvador, so I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I should have. But eventually, (after a day of tearing our hair out over travel arrangements that were undermined by hey-it's-Brazil syndrome, I arrived at the perfect place to recover: Trancoso.
I verily do believe I have now discovered the prettiest place in the world. It's Trancoso and Praia do Espelho (Mirror Beach) in southern Bahia. Ahhhh, what magic. Trancoso has a lovely grassy square, surrounded by lovely one-story multicoloured fishermens' huts and capped by a pretty white church.
I was there with Alasdair, Marck, Bruno and...
...and Omer, one of the dearest people in the whole world, who has become my music guru...
...but all too soon it ended and I made my way to Sao Paulo, from whence I decamped to the frozen side of the world. But that's another blog. Stand by.
There is something ineffably sensuous and marvelous about Brazil. In my next life, I definitely want to come back as a Brazilian (albeit one with money). Unfortunately, however, in this life I can't escape my North American/European mentality and so traveling in Brazil always manages to drive me to the brink of my sanity, many times over. If you wish to get something done in Brazil, in a quick and logical manner, then I say good luck to you. You have a much greater chance of ending up in a straightjacket with a twitch and a relentless maniacal giggle.
It helps to have lots of patience in Brazil, but I have to be honest and tell you that valium is even more useful than patience. Especially if you are dealing with the local airline TAM. Even just typing T, A, M, causes a vein in my temple pulse viciously, so I dare not even begin to try to recount my tales, but they are legion, let me assure you. Oh, and you will also need your valium at hotel check-out time. Checking out will inevitably take more than an hour. And by the way, you'll also need to know how to run your credit card through the authorization machine yourself, because the hotel staff almost certainly won't know how. Screaming at the dimwits does not work.
First Stop Floripa
You just have to love the name Florianopolis, dontcha? Sounds so futuristic and cool, like the capital planet of an alien civilization in Star Wars or something. But in fact, Floripa (as it's called by the locals) is just a pretty island that's the capital of Santa Catarina state, down in the south near Argentina. It's about the size of Ibiza, with masses of emerald green vegetation, great beaches, a laid-back vibe, and lots of very beautiful people walking around with not very much clothing on. Discretion and a not insignificant dollop of heart-ache prevent me from saying more about my time in Floripa, so I'm going to move this travellogue swiftly along to Rio de Janiero, the sexiest city in the world.
Hanging with my Homies in Rainy Rio
Most years a large section of my London tribe of friends gather in Rio for Carnival. I think this was my fourth carnival in Rio in the last five years. However, this year was exceptional in one regard: climate. It rained nearly the entire time without pause. My clothes grew mold, but at least my skin was soft and lush.
Now, I grant you that Rio's rain is not like Canadian or British rain. It's warm and tropical, so you can still wear shorts and a t-shirt, but even so you don’t really feel like sitting on the beach. Raindrops plopping onto my head - even if they're warm - give me a headache. Consequently, against a backdrop of nonstop rain, clubbing and sex become the mode de vivre in Rio, where you’ve never seen so many beautiful people collected in one place. But after four visits I've come to the conclusion that - for me at least - Rio is like arriving at huge buffet table stocked with a vast and dazzling array of the most delicious and incredibly rich food. In the end, it’s ALL totally overwhelming and all you can eat is a lettuce leaf.
A friend passes the threshold and joins me on the dark side
After Rio's carnival, the tribe gathered its collective sorry ass at the airport and decamped upwards to Jericoacoara, a huge coastal park of sand dunes, scrub, lagoons, and beaches in Brazil's north-east, "near" (by Brazilian standards - this is a BIG country) Fortaleza.
The occasion was the 40th birthday of my good friend Chip. One of the reasons I love Chip is that behind all the outer beauty, our inner selves are quite similar: ever so slightly nerdish and factoid-addicted. Not only would Chip have excelled in chemistry class, I'm sure he enjoyed it as well. But Chip's inner dork is not the only one of his charms. When a number of us gave toasted Chip over dinner, we all mentioned the same wonderful quality: Chip's marvelous ability to bring people together, to make a group, to turn disparate friends into one big family.
In the photo of Chip below he looks happy. That's because he's surrounded by 40 of his closest friends, and nothing makes him happier in life than being surrounded by his friends. And clearly, the terrible reality of what's happening - a one way ticket to the dark side of life with no prospect of return journey - has not yet sunk in.
Oh, I had so much fun in Jeri, despite a a nasty case of food poisoning on the 5 hour drive there from Fortaleza airport (thanks to a delicious but deadly prawn risotto). I will spare you further details of my malady, and instead will tell you about the fun. It’s taken me some time to edit down the 5000 or so photos, so I’m gonna present you with just a few, which show the fun we had on a boating regatta...
...followed by sand buggies in the dunes...
...hiking...
...playing on the dunes next to the beach... (that's me, eating a mouthful of sand as we raced down the dune).
...and chilling out at the pousada...
...and not least a wonderful costume party. Check out the costumes that my dear friend Matthias and I made for the "tribal" party night out of grass skirts. We put some on our heads to make an AbFab meets the Flintstones kind of look. And we trimmed the backs.
If everyone looks happy, it's because they are:
Chip, our spectacularly organized host, and Robert, the group mama, decided to opt for modest costume dress:
Check out my Native American friend, Poco-Ho, as she plays coy with the camera:
We partied until the sun came up, even Sheila who never stays up:
The Great Brazilian Trek
After Jericoacoara, the tribe thinned scattered but a few of us (Alasdair, Omer, David, Marck and me) went bravely on to Bahia which is said to be the heart and soul of Brazil. Getting there took more than 30 hours, because of, well, because it was Brazil. We missed our flight. Why? Because our car transport service to the airport broke down in the middle of nowhere. Check out our driver, trying to get a signal on his mobile.
Stepping into a Time Warp
But eventually, we arrived in Salvador, the main city of Bahia, and the original capital of all-Brazil, and even today the center of Afro-Brazilian culture and music and cuisine. Our Bahian friend Marck kept pushing us to eat the typical local dish called a moquecas, a type of seafood stew, but it rather disgusted us, since it appeared to be principally comprised of things (small crabs and icky snails) that had been sheltering under a rock on a dirty beach.
The old part of Salvador, called Pelhourino, is situated high on a bluff overlooking the port, and it’s quite beautiful, with cobbled streets and wonderful old colonial buildings.
But it's in a time-warp. Check out the phone booths!
In 20 years, once the developers have really got their hands into it, this city will be magic. Unfortunately, I was serotonin depleted by the time I arrived in Salvador, so I didn’t enjoy it quite as much as I should have. But eventually, (after a day of tearing our hair out over travel arrangements that were undermined by hey-it's-Brazil syndrome, I arrived at the perfect place to recover: Trancoso.
The Prettiest Place in the World
I verily do believe I have now discovered the prettiest place in the world. It's Trancoso and Praia do Espelho (Mirror Beach) in southern Bahia. Ahhhh, what magic. Trancoso has a lovely grassy square, surrounded by lovely one-story multicoloured fishermens' huts and capped by a pretty white church.
I was there with Alasdair, Marck, Bruno and...
...and Omer, one of the dearest people in the whole world, who has become my music guru...
...but all too soon it ended and I made my way to Sao Paulo, from whence I decamped to the frozen side of the world. But that's another blog. Stand by.
posted by Peter at 5:59 AM
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