Hanging out in Arraial d'Ajuda

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The trip from Vitoria to Porto Seguro didn't go well. I maintain that the principal reason for this is that we had too good a nights sleep in our own room in Domingos Martins. Philippe blames it on the two ignorant locals in the seats behind us who didn't appear to have been on a bus before, let alone a night bus. While I did notice that they didn't stop talking from the start of the voyage until the end, Philippe had the added joy of having his hair or shoulder pulled each time they wanted to get up out of the seat (which, granted, was certainly more often than your average traveller). Needless to say we arrived grumpy and tired - however, we had decent accommodation booked this time round, to avoid a re-run of Vitoria's secret hotel.

When you step off the bus in Porto Seguro you immediately get harassed by local people purporting to be from the tourist information office. When you ask for directions into town they tell you to "just take tax(i)". When you ask for a map of the town from the same tourist information guy, they don't have any "but if you just take tax they bring you to where you wana be". It didn't take us long to figure out that this guy was on commission! But it also left us mapless and in need of means of getting to Arraial d'Ajuda. We had read enough on the internet before we came to know that we had to get a bus as far as a ferry port, get on the ferry and then possibly take a bus on the other side. After a quick sit down to take stock of the situation, Philippe spotted some people queueing at a bench across the street. That'll be the bus stop then.

We hopped on the first bus who told us they could bring us to the centre of town, and then kept a keen eye out for signposts. Eventually we spotted some signs with a ferry image on them and hopped off. A fair hike later (having realised that those signs were for cars), we arrived at the ferry port. We had definitely taken the long way round. But we were at least there, so we paid our 5 reais and were transported across the water on a glorified raft. On the other side we were again lost. With not a clue of whether to go right or left, we sat still and enjoyed a coke for breakfast. Eventually I spotted a local hotel and went in to enquire if I could see a map of the town. With the small amount of knowledge that we should be heading off right, up a hill, to get to the centre, Philippe approached a group of people and said "onibus, centre. onibus, centro?" His grasp of Portuguese is improving daily you know!

Four reais later we were comfortably installed on a rattling bus that was taking us in the right direction. The buses over here are so durable after years of going over cobble stones that it occurs to us that they would be useful for going over some of the potholed roads in Ireland! You get on a bus here on the front, go through a turnstile, pay your money to a conductor and if you're very lucky you will be seated by the time the driver has rounded the first corner. It's one of the small difficulties that we have finally mastered - there is a knack to holding on to a seat while taking off your backpack without smashing into the passenger behind you. Then, to hop off at the back, you also have to find your centre of gravity quick to get to the back before the bus stops - because the driver isn't waiting for you!

Arriving at the centre of Arraial d'Ajuda we decided to seek out an internet cafe to find a better map of the town in order to locate our hostel. The map on the internet didn't make our route much clearer to us, but after an hour of internetting, the guy that ran the place told us in good english to "go as far as the church, take the road behind and keep going until the end". We are so used to using sign language that we had forgotten to try and use English! (For the record, my particular favourite use of sign language was when we were looking for a bus to Christ the Redeemer in Rio and Philippe got on three different buses, each time with outstretched arms, saying "Jèsus, huh, yeh?" - if we're ever playing charades in the future I certainly want him on my team!)

So, following the directions we were given we arrived at Pousada Alto Mar, a beautiful family owned hostel. The owner doesn't speak any English, but this doesn't stop him talking at us in Portuguese until we understand. We have decided that he is a cross between Basil Fawlty and Borat. We have our own room and bathroom, with a mosquito net over the bed. Although this isn't a malaria area, the bugs are massive! My personal bite record is 5 in one day, despite being covered in DEET. Being much closer to the equator the houses don't bother with glass windows, and instead have wooden shutters on the windows. The resulting look is charming but it does make the room look sort of like a nicely furnished barn.

Step outside the room though and the real magic starts - we have hammocks and an adult swing in the garden! Those of you that know my facination with hammocks will understand how happy this sight made me. I used to be facinated with my grand-aunts rocking chair as a child. Hammocks take this notion a whole step further. Their simplistic design, coupled with my heifer-like weight, mean that once in the hammock it will gentle rock by its own accord. Today, I spent an entire iPod album just happily chilling in my favourite hammock. Add to this that there are monkeys in the garden next door and palm trees everywhere, and you will have an idea of the marvellous paradise that we have found.

Karma being what it is, this joy couldn't last for too long though. As once we were done admiring the pousada, we realised that we had forgotten to book our tickets out of here at the bus station when we arrived. So this became our task for yesterday. To save money we decided to walk as far as the ferry. Figuring that the beach was the route guaranteeing that we would get there without being lost, we detoured off the street and onto a fabulous beach. There was a gentle breeze and because of this we didn't remember to put on suncream for the first 20minutes. Well, dear reader, 20 minutes is plenty of time to cook me enough to end up looking like a lobster wearing a white tee-shirt. I am officially scalded from the shoulders down and have a bright red necklace around my neck. Ouch! Philippe was wearing a longish sleeved shirt, and so escaped with only a burned runway down his front where he had left his shirt open.

On the beach we made two new friends. The first was Jahn, a 17 year old boy who wanted to practice his English with us. The other was a friendly dog, who we named "Murphy's", who we just couldn't shake for at least half an hour. When we went into the water, Murph went in with us. When we paused to take a break in the shade, Murph pulled up beside us. All the rest of the time he just kept the same gentle pace as us. As we were beginning to wonder how we would shake him, he fell in love with another couple that was walking up the beach and bid us farewell.

We made it up the beach, across the ferry, onto a bus and to the bus station, and back. Painfully red but thoroughly chuffed with our own independance, we returned to the Pousada with two tickets that will take us to Salvador on Friday.

Aside from that we are now on the final phase of luxury to budget - we are cooking our own meals in the hostel. We enjoyed Spagetti Carbonara on Tuesday, made Bolognaise last night, and are busy planning a feast of steak, spuds and salad for tonight! But first we will go to watch the Brazil vs. South Africa football match in a bar. Up Brazil!

Please keep the comments coming!

Take care,

Sinead & Philippe

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Comments

[Karin Counet]

murphy
Hi Kids! We arranged Murphy on the beach for you, so that you don't forget our Guinness. Again nice 'reading food' Sinead! Bye and take care! Karin

[Wendy Barnwall]

Murphy
Hey, half way across the world to play with a dog in the beach eh??? Cool name Murf!!! I feel like Im missing out on hammock days - so jealous. Miss you. X