Angra dos Reis and Paraty

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After the madness of Rio Angra dos Reis is a different pace. (The buses aren't a different pace don't worry, but more on that later).

We arrived in Angra after a very comfortable 2.5 hour bus journey. We went with a company called Costa Verde and it cost R$44 each. The buses are really good, air conditioned and massively cushioned seats. We think this is because there are no trains so loads of people use the buses as a means of transportation. As we left the bus station it became apparent the 5.5km walk to the hostel would have been beyond us, with the threat of rain, reading a map off a screenshot on my iPod and the emergence of what I like to call Alex's backpack face. As soon as the big backpack goes on Alex's, the face turns into a stern mask, not wanting to moan but you obvious that she is stevie ruggling. We opted for a taxi and after the usual hand gestures/our poor attempt at Portuguese and their English, I showed him the address and he seemed to twig.

A quick word here on the standard of English in Brazil. Outside the people on reception in hostels there is VERY little. A good 80% of people do not know a single word of English. I think we were told this before we left but brushed it off. Alex thinks the level of English is better than she expected but between us we honestly have about 10 words of Portuguese and it sometimes gets to a point where I just laugh because no one knows what is going on. We do get by with pointing and doing numbers on fingers or looking at the total on screens. Body language is easily read and no is relatively easy to understand in any language. If you have the Lonely Planet guide there are a few pages of basic words and phrases at the back of the book (which we didn't realise until 9 days in).

Back to the R$40 taxi to the hostel on the other side of the hill. The guy got us there and we walked down a flight of steps to a large terrace with a relatively large hole down to a cellar in the middle covered by an old door and some dead palm leaves. There were a small team of builders working on the house just in front. We obviously looked lost and one of the builders crossed the terrace to come and talk to us. This was Mario and he was a hero.

He got the owner of the 'hostel' on the phone who tried to speak Portuguese at us but then switched to pretty good English. Mario had shown us where we would be sleeping, a small room set aside from the main house but joined by a covered terrace, with 2 sets of bunk beds and an ensuite bathroom. The room's walls and ceiling didn't join with a gap starting around half a foot and narrowing down to an inch. We settled in whilst the owner on the phone tried to find the reservation we had made on booking.com that he seemingly had no recollection of. Mario made us tea and coffee which was delicious, not bitter at all and it was in a really fancy tea set as well. Mario was in the 80% of Portuguese that have no words of English and he tried his heart out explaining where things were for us. Alex had started to wash some clothes in an outside sink with travel wash so we wouldn't run out of clean clothes when Mario approached holding out his cracked 3210 mobile phone that had a text in English meant for us: 'Mario will take only boyfriend on motorbike to the bus stop, shop and where to eat is'. I read this and didn't really understand, Alex twigged it and laughed. Mario was keenly gesturing to me to follow him and making the universal sign for motorbike. I followed still not totally understanding him. We went up the stairs and finally my brain kicked into gear as I realised I was to go on the back of the bike for Mario to show me around the small town. Now I have never been on a motorbike and have always been told horror stories by my Mum who is a radiographer. I have also witnessed the haphazard approach people in Brazil have to road safety. When I saw the single helmet being placed on the floor, I realised Mario shared in this ´safety is for babies´ school of thought. With no other option and a seriously eager Mario already on the bike I hopped on the back. I know very little about motorbikes but this was no scooter. With me gripping the back seat handles with white knuckles we set off down the degree slope. The hairpin bends weren't as bad as expected, it was when we got further down onto the road with speed bumps that the ride really got interesting! Mario thoroughly enjoyed speeding up between bumps and barely braking so I bounced up and down; I on the other hand did not. The worst part without a doubt was when a bus veered round the corner and left us with about 3 feet of room, if I had extended my arm halfway I certainly would have touched the side of the bus. This happened with both vehicles going about 30mph, admittedly not too fast but on that bike amid my panicked and increasingly incoherent shouts of 'bus,bus,bus,bs, bsssss', it was plenty fast enough. With the adrenaline pumping, Mario pointed out all the things we needed and drove us onto the lawn of a restaurant, presenting me as 'Ingleterra'. We got back fine and it was funny to laugh about. Alex obviously laughed copiously at how panicked I was about the bus.

That evening we went to the restaurant that Mario pointed out which was a 15 minute walk away, we were the only people in there. We pointed at bits of the menu we recognised like arroz (rice), feijao (beans) and carne (meat) and hoped for the best. What we got was a meat and onion fest, but it tasted nice once you cut the fat off the small chunks of meat. We sat chatting away for a while, not sure if the guy waiting around worked there and was waiting for us to leave to close up or not as the waitress who took our order had left half way through our meal. When we got the bill the name of it amused us highly, Alex spotted it and pointed out the word 'gringo', which to be fair we really are.

That night we got bitten to shreds by mosquitos. Me on my hands and feet and Alex on her forehead (although she didn't believe me as we had no mirror).

The next morning Mario had put on a lovely spread for breakfast including his excellent coffee and ham and cheese toasties. With pre made rolls for lunch packed we set off for the main town to get a boat to Ilha Grande. The bus into town was R$2.90 and made the bus drivers in Rio look like old grannies out on a Sunday drive. We left our seats vertically over some speed bumps! We got to town fine and headed to a large dock where it looked like all the boats go from. Angra has a pretty little harbour with fishing boats and some large black birds, with wing spans of over a metre, swooping for fish on the surface. We got a catamaran for R$50 each return. It was great despite Alex's travel wary stomach making her feel a little sea sick.

Ilha Grande is beautiful but we only had 6 hours or so to explore. We headed off on a small hike that took in some ruins, a natural pool and a beach. The forest is lovely to walk through and the paths clear. We saw signs for a waterfall 3km away and headed towards it. It took an hour and a half of very uphill terrain (not what Primark had in mind when designing our 4 pound shoes I'm sure) but we made it, very hot and sweaty. For me, the waterfall was a bit underwhelming though Alex enjoyed it, but the walk was nice and we saw some black howler monkeys, who were ironically quite quiet.

If we'd had more time we would have hiked the 13km to a now overgrown prison on the island. It closed in 1994 and housed the countries worst criminals so sounds like the Brazilian Alcatraz. Most people we've talked to have booked 5 nights. You could surely fill this with the hiking trails available and the beautiful beaches but a couple of nights would probably be sufficient.

Treated ourselves to a beer and something called Salcole which is a 6 inch long stick of frozen milk with different flavourings, perfect when you are hot and sweaty. We went for limao which we had thought was lime up until now, but it means lemon. They were R$2 each sold from people's houses (they go into their house to get them from a freezer in the kitchen).

The catamaran back was late (everything is late here pretty much) so when we arrived back in Angra it was dark and then the heavens opened. This made for a truly psychotic bus journey back. The bus driver didn´t seem to care it was raining and obviously had somewhere very urgent to be. Alex was terrified but lucky the windows were so steamed up you couldn't really see out. The rain intensified and there was some loud thunder and amazing lightning over the bay which was pretty spectacular.

After 2 nights we left Mario and the mosquitos and headed back the bus station. Waited in a 15 minute queue at the Costa Verde ticket offices/booth only for them to tell us they don't go to Paraty. We thought this strange as there were 2 Costa Verde buses in the terminal with Paraty on the front, but we guess they don´t pick up. Got a ticket on the bus with a company called Colitur for R$16.50 each. Only a 2 hour bus between Angra dos Reis and Paraty but the bus was nice and comfortable again.

With no hostel booked for the night we headed straight into the internet cafe to look on Hostelworld. We seemed to be chasing the rain as it was pelting down here as well. There was limited availibility so had to book one night in Beach Hostel Paraty for R$69 each and 2 nights in Bossa Nova hostel for R$50 each. Paraty was quite expensive in general as it's really touristy but nice nonetheless. We walked the 15 minutes in the rain (trudged as Alex says when we're carrying the big bags) to the hostel, checked in, showered and went out in the fading rain to explore Paraty.

Paraty is known for its cobblestones. These so-called cobblestones don't fit my definition as they are massive and give your ankles a proper working over. They are more like foot long pebbles and with the rain puddles are everywhere so we got splashed a couple of times by cars. The historic centre is really nice, pretty and quaint and has some nice churches.

Luckily we beat the rush to make food in the hoste, the kitchen was tiny yet everyone seemed to congregate there. Had pasta with sauce and assorted veg again as we are still trying to stay away from meat cooked by us for the moment! Joined in small 6 bed dorm by a mental Australian at about 9pm, (Australians are everywhere), who claimed to have spent R$6000 in a week. Idiot. This hostel was very sociable as all rooms led onto a communal courtyard with one large, long table, kind of forcing everyone to socialise.

Checked out the next morning, although hung around til the rain eased slightly. Set off to the Bossa Nova hostel with a rough idea of where it was situated, although we ended up wandering round in circles for a while as the hostel seemed quite hidden - Alex was no happy in the humidity. However, we found it and it was really nice, much calmer than the last with rooms more private. We had a 4 bed dorm and it was really spacious. We went for a short walk up to the fort which had nice views across the bay and some old cannons, then headed back to the internet cafe to book a hostel for our next stop in Sao Paulo. Lucky I had pushed for us to book the bus that afternoon as well (Saturday) for Monday as the 9.40 and 11.40 buses were already full! We had to go for 16.40 bus for R$50 each with a company called Reunidas.

Saturday night in town was lively with lots of hustle and bustle, most bars had live music and there were bands and artists performing in the streets. We bought some dessert from the locals pushing carts around. I chose a chocolate cake with coconut and Alex a cirtus cheesecake with ginger base. I wasn´t keen on mine so Alex was kind enough to swap. We sat and had a beer al fresco, watching the world go by.

The next day the Sun was actually shining so we decided to head to a small town called Trindade (not TrinIdad as everyone calls it!) where the best beaches are. It was Sunday and obviously everyone else had the same idea. The number of people on the bus was ridiculus, probably illegal in England, but luckily for us we had got there 20 mins early and managed to get a seat. It took 50 minutes, cost the usual R$3 each and did go down some windy, steep roads (once again Alex put on a brave face)but got us to the beaches fine.

This was when we discovered the stupidest thing so far in Brazil. There were 3 beaches, hundreds of people and zero toilets. We walked about for 40 minutes asking the lifeguards, at bars etc but they either directed us to somewhere where people had told us there were none or said they were closed. We gave up and had to go in the bush.

Once we were relieved we could then really appreciate the beauty of our idyllic surroundings. These were probably the most beautiful beaches I've ever been to and the sea the bluest either of us had ever seen. We had a dip, (I was a bit unimpressed by the lack of decent waves. There is little to do in the sea without waves), climbed to a rock in the middle of 2 beaches to take photos and then decided to walk to some natural pools. They were 1.7km away with 2 sizeable rocks to walk over but it was fine for the average person. Fatties were struggling on the vertical forest paths which I enjoyed. When we arrived at the natural pools I was unsure if it was worth the trip. They were like a 25m waist deep rock pool. There were some cool crabs and Alex got her Attenborough on, getting some good snaps of the crabs in action.

Our last night in Paraty was spent with a stroll into town again which has a nice, chilled atmosphere and we had self service ice cream with Alex pigging out and getting 3 different flavours and a very good sized portion.

Our last day was spent killing time until the bus to Sao Paulo at 16.40. Overall Paraty is probably worth a couple of nights stay and try to go on the weekend to see it at its livliest.

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