Vacation Time - Morro de Sao Paulo

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We took a two hour catamaran ride from Salvador to the island of Tinhare and the small town of Morro de Sao Paulo perched over the Atlantic Ocean. I read that there were no paved roads in MSP. In fact there were only two sand roads in town, one of which lead out to four beaches, appropriately named, First Beach, Second Beach, etc. Before we even left the boat men came aboard trying to grab our bags, offering us a taxi. I thought that odd because there were no roads, so how were there taxis? Turns out, “taxis” were nothing more than wheelbarrows. They push along your luggage and take you to your hotel (on our way off the island we saw the true “taxi” an old woman with few teeth being wheeled inside the wheelbarrow, with her legs spread on either side). We declined, paid our USD$5 tourist tax and started to make our way to the Third Beach, which was supposedly quieter than the partying atmosphere of the first two beaches. We asked for directions on how to get to the beach a couple of times because there were no street signs or addresses. Once on the beach, I asked again which beach we were on. It was tough work lugging our backpacks while walking on the sand beach. We certainly got our workout. Once we arrived at the hotel (or pousada) we booked, we were surprised to see that there was no beach out front. Turned out that the pictures on their website were not exactly accurate; in fact, I think they took a picture of a place a few doors down to demonstrate lounge chairs on the beach. Moreover, the room was so tiny that we could not walk around the bed at the same time. We needed to take turns. We agreed to stay there one night and then we would find something with either a beach, or a nice balcony, to be able to enjoy the view. We planned on spending at least a week on the island, and the tiny room would just not do. We dropped off our bags, tried to get our first real meal of the day (an overpriced and not too great hamburger on the beach). Then, we went shopping for a new place to stay.

We learned quickly that the island was expensive, both housing and food. But, I wanted to make the most of our stay. During the ten months of our trip so far, I figured out we have spent only about a month and half at the beach - Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam, Bali. I thought going into the trip that we would have spent more time at the beach. I love the water and the sound of the waves is something I truly miss living in Chicago (the Lake, although beautiful, just does not compare to the sound of the ocean). So, with a few weeks to kill before we head to the south of the country for Christmas, we wanted to make up for lost time before we ran out of time. We splurged on a nice pousada. We found a nice room that was a decent size, feeling more like an apartment than a hotel room. We had a large balcony, which we shared with two other rooms, with a hammock and two lounge chairs overlooking the water. We were still on the third beach, which did not have any beach at all at this point, particularly at high tide, but we were not far from the second beach and thought that so long as we had a nice view of the water, it would be worth it.

We were right. We totally blew our budget while in MSP. We set into a little routine, because we are after all creatures of comfort. After a breakfast spread at the hotel of fresh fruit and juice, and about a dozen kinds of baked treats, we would spend a couple hours in the sun on the balcony, watching the water. We would watch the children out to swim and splash during low tide and watch the delivery boats for the local market float in during high tide. When we wanted a little break from the sun, we watched Friends at noon on our satellite TV. Then, we would head down to the second beach for some lunch and a dip in the warm and shallow water. After, we had our fill of the sun and sea, we would return to our room to sit on the balcony or lay in bed, where we could still see the water and hear the waves crash during high tide. We could also see a kite surfer out most nights, sometimes feeling like his parachute would come right into our room. In the evening we would head out for dinner and a drink before retiring back to our room to watch a little TV and listen to the water. Most important was the breeze. We had a perfect breeze all day long that whipped across the balcony and right through our room. In general, the weather on the island was the best we experienced on the trip. It was not too hot, nor was it cold by any means. The sun was warm and the breeze was beautiful. With the exception of a few mornings with some clouds and a few minutes of early morning rain, we had bright blue skies. It was simply amazing. It was no wonder we never wanted to leave. We ended up staying for three weeks.
Our stay was also an educational experience for me because I have never spent this many consecutive days on the water. I was able to watch and monitor the tides, to understand when we could walk down to the fourth beach. During our first week we had a brilliant full moon, and watched the moon rise several evenings in a row. At night, we saw a million stars in the sky, particularly during the new moon, when the sky as dark. It was mesmerizing. We also learned how to adjust our daily schedule based on the tides.

One day, while sitting on the veranda reading I noticed out of the corner of my eye a large, brown horse. It was just hanging on the sand road by itself. A guy walked by selling jewelry and tried to encourage the horse to walk down the sand alleyway next to our hotel, which is did. I thought I was seeing things. We had just seen a repeat of Lost where Kate starts hallucinating horses on the island and I thought I was doing the same thing. That night, we sat at one of the beach shacks having a drink. The same horse came slowly walking down the beach. We could barely see it considering how dark it was. After it passed us it needed to walk over the small peninsula that separated the second and third beaches. It stopped in its tracks, though, as the horse contemplated what to do about two kissing lovers sitting in the dark on the beach. After a few moments it continued on its way, sneaking right up behind the couple and proceeding around them. They must have been pretty hot and heavy, because if it were me I would have jumped. They did not even notice the large animal walking by. It was still pretty strange to a city girl that a horse would be just walking around on its own, with no owner or handler. It continued on its path into the water of the low tide on the third beach and disappeared from sight.

The Vila and the Ilha

Several times a week we ventured up to town, which is really a loaded word when used to describe the two sand roads that meet near the pier. There were two ATMs in town, a petite grocery store, several overpriced restaurants and lots of gift and clothing stores, each one with a selection of expensive, but yet remarkably tiny, bikinis. We found ourselves wandering there for food options because most of the restaurants on the second beach were also overpriced. The ATM on the beach also rarely worked. We found a decent pasta place for carbonara. It suited our needs but it was a hike through thick sand to get out there.

One the other end from the Vila were the beaches. The second beach was lined with restaurants that set up lounge chairs on the wide beach during the day. We tended to stick to the little beach shacks on the side for food. Then, we would drop our sarongs on the edge of the water and enjoy. The water was crystal clear, where we could actually see the sand bottom and our feet. It became a little more cloudy during high tide, but there were rarely any waves and we could just float out there, or sit in the sand during low tide. It was perfect. People were lounging on the beach, playing paddle ball, and sometimes football. It was a fun little environment, with music blaring from many of the restaurants (making me very happy we were not staying on that beach). Each of the four beaches were fairly close to one another with a walk from the vila to the fourth beach taking about 45 minutes. But, each was certainly a unique environment.

Past our pousada we could walk during low tide to the fourth beach, which was the least developed of the areas. There was a large seafood restaurant on the beach and a beach restaurant attached to a large and fairly exclusive resort, the first on the island. There were no Marriotts, Hyatts, or Starwood properties, but we were told the hotel on the fourth beach was owned by “corporate investors.” Past the two restaurants there was pretty much nothing as far as the eye could see. There was a kite surfing school and a few people selling coconut juice and drinks. It was also the taxi stand on the island - Cavallo Taxi, or horse taxi. They were small horse drawn carts to bring people around the island. It was at least a little bit more of an honest advertisement than the “taxi” drivers lined up at the pier when we arrived.

Our first time at fourth beach was during low tide and we were able to lie down in the water to chill out. The water was not only warm, with a bit of a chill, but only about six or eight inches deep. We were able to lie on our stomachs and watch the miniscule waves come over the rocks and coral at our line of sight. Also, there were little fishes nibbling at our legs and feet. We thought it funny that we had to pay for fish to clean the dead skin off of our legs while we were in Malaysia, and here we were getting the dead skin off for free. On another day, we dropped our sarongs down on the beach under the shade of a large tree and just watched the water, read, and relaxed. It was perfect. It was quiet, with just a few people relaxing, a lot different from the party environment of the second beach. We loved it.
We also learned to live within the generally recognized notions of island commerce. One night we purchased some internet and owed the employee $R2 for our half hour of use. We only had a $R20 on us and he could not make change. He told us to just pay us “later” - it was a small town trust that just does not exist many places. On a Saturday, we hit a restaurant at the start of town for some feijoada. Our total bill came to $R31, including the tip. We only had a $R40. The server, Phillipe, was unable to make change for us no matter how many combinations of the cash we had and the change he had. I told him to just call it $R30 and I promised that I would come back with the rest. It took me a few days to get back there and find him, but on the third try I showed up with a $R2 note. He flashed the biggest smile, I think he was surprised that I actually came back. I felt that it was important to keep the small town island commerce of trust intact and knew I would come back. He tried not to take it, I think still in a little shock.

All sorts of vendors plied the beaches, mostly jewelry sellers, men hawking hammocks, selling CDs of music, and ice cream sellers. One of the most unique were the grilled cheese carts. We saw something similar in Rio, where a person walked around with some square white substance on a wooden skewer. They would grill it over coals on the beach. At the time, we had no idea what it was; I thought maybe tofu. Once in MSP, the carts read Queijo Asado or Queijo Brasa - grilled cheese. Usually when we saw them I was already eating or had just eaten - then we would see a half dozen at once. When I was ready for the cheese, we could not find one. The usually made their way down to the Fourth Beach and during one of our visits I saw him at the end of the beach and waited for him to come the rest of the way down. He had his cart about twenty feet from me, and sold some cheese to the people at the next table. I assumed he would go back for his cart and make his way past, but after a few pages of my book I saw him leaving. I was devastated. At this point it had been over two weeks and I still had not tried the cheese. Finally, it happened. We were on our balcony one late morning and Eric saw him coming down the sand road. We hailed him down and he delivered our cheese to the pousada. It was tasty and cheap, but after that, every time we saw him on the beach I remained not hungry. It was a wicked game.

Dead Zone

We ended up spending almost three weeks on the island, not leaving until we had to be in Porto Alegre before Christmas. The only problem we had on the island besides the cost was the lack of internet. We had no internet access at our hotel and there were only a handful of internet stores on the island. The first time we tried to use the internet, there was some sort of communication problem and the internet just wasn’t working. We saw there was one café in town with WiFi, so we packed up our computer and walked up to town. The café was closed. We tried again a few days later and their WiFi was not working. They needed to send their wireless router back to the mainland for repair. We were striking out, particularly trying to use Skype to make calls. This is the reason that the blog was not updated for several weeks. I have not forgotten about my fans it was just a huge problem to get access to the rest of the world.

Colorful Characters

Whenever you spend a decent amount of time in one place, particularly a small place, you make friends and you start to meet some strange characters. MSP was one place where I wished I spoke the language, but often my Spanish knowledge was enough to talk with people at restaurants and at our pousada. During our stay we met some particularly unique individuals, and we often saw the same people over and over, even if we had not met them personally. First, there was an older British man who could be the brother, or at least the cousin, of the famous chef Gordon Ramsay. Gordon’s catch phrase in many of his television shows is “fresh, local, ingredients.” Thus, the British Gordon look alike, with his tiny little puppy always with him, became Fresh Local Ingredients, and sometimes FLI. A woman with stark blonde spicy hair became Annie Lennox. The friendly young man selling us coconuts on the beach became Coco.

On our first night on the island, our room had a view of a restaurant across the sandy lane. From a distance the food looked pretty good and we checked it out the next day. We became frequent dinners at Tia Lita during our first week. We usually ate a tasty grilled chicken with a simple salad and fantastic red beans and rice. The server, Jeffrey, spoke some English, and let us check our email on his computer at no charge. The restaurant was small, with only four tables inside and a few tables outside. It had a small kitchen, which would open up when new guests arrived and as soon as the meal was complete, the lights were out. After we finished our meals, Jeffrey would bring our dishes back and clean them by hand in the sink. It was a simple kitchen like any in an American household - far from the standards of most restaurants. We were not sure if the woman cooking in the kitchen was Tia Lita (tia means aunt), but we felt like she was inviting us into her home to eat. One day there was a large and friendly Portuguese speaking gentleman at the restaurant. We saw him there often, but I was not sure if he was related to the restaurant or was just a neighbor. He spoke not a single word of English but always wanted to talk with us. He asked us where we were from and when he heard Chicago we thought he replied with Chicago Bulls (everyone knows the Bulls and Michael Jordan). But, it turned out he was saying Chicago Blues. He was apparently familiar with some blues musician we had never heard of before. Every time he saw us he said Chicago Blues and pretended to play some sort of horn instrument. We never learned his name and I referred to him as Tio Lita, or Uncle Lita, for his relationship with the Tia Lita restaurant.

One of our favorite places to spend the afternoon on the beach was a beach bar at the end of the second beach just before a peninsula. It had a view on the other side of the bay in front of the third beach. It became known to us as Marcelo’s place. Marcelo became our daily server for lunch or some Kaiser beer. He was animated, always dancing, and making sure everyone was having a good time. They let us sit at the plastic table and chairs to eat and drink, we could leave our stuff there when we wanted to get in a swim, and they had a shower. It was wonderful. We learned quickly that whichever server sat us at a table or reached us first would get the tip. Marcelo was the only one up and working every time we went there. The other guys often sat in the shade for awhile and it took forever to get their attention. One night, about two weeks into our stay, we stopped for a light dinner at one of the beach shacks, Pasteis and CIA, which we referred to as the CIA place. Eric ordered a pastel, a deep fried empanada. I ordered an Acai - a frozen Amazonian red berry concoction topped with mango and granola from a shack a few doors down. When we sat at a plastic table on the beach to eat we saw Marcelo and Tio Lita chatting at the counter of Marcelo’s place. Eric went over to say hello and soon he was eating some strange fruit and drinking beer. We moved our meal to their place and sat chatting with Tio and Marcelo for awhile, until I was tired of trying to translate Eric and my side of the conversation into Spanish, and then trying, desperately to understand what Marcelo and Tio were saying in Portuguese. Regardless of the difficulties in communication, it was nice to sit and talk with some locals. Tio shared his beer and tasty skewers of beef. We also learned that we were not supposed to sit with another server at Marcelo’s place. He instructed us to walk up to the bar and yell out his name “MARCELLOOOOOOO,” and he would come running towards us. Good to know.

We also became a regular at a restaurant/bar called Pedra Sobre Pedra. It was an outdoor spot, with only five tables and a railing around the deck. It was at the base of the stairs to the village, but perched above the start to the second beach. We liked it there for the vantage point over the beach at night, particularly during the start of our stay when we were able to watch the moon rise over the water. They also made some pretty good caipirinhas. During our first stroll by Eric drew attention with his Bintang beer tank top, which he bought in Bali. During our first real visit, we realized some of them had been to New Zealand and liked Eric’s bone carving necklace from Christchurch. We definitely made ourselves regulars with Eric enjoying a steak meal, me getting hamburgers or crepes, and eating a few dishes of beef stroganoff, an unadvertised special - a dish not even on the menu. It was tasty, and a great change from the usual meals of meat, rice, and beans. The night we hung out with Tio and Marcelo, we made our way to Pedra Sobre Pedra for a drink and saw Marcelo one more time before he headed home to the village. Marcelo asked me, one more time, what I was supposed to say when we went to his restaurant the following day and I replied, with animation, placing my hands on either side of my mouth to yell “MARCELLOOOOOO!” He totally started to laugh and the workers at Pedra Sobre Pedra thought it funny that we knew Marcello that well.

It was nice, though. As we walked through the village and around the beaches we ran into the same people repeatedly. We would say hello and stop to chat a few sentences, considering the language gap. We felt like locals. We were even told by both Marcello and Coco about a late night beach party that appeared to be more for locals and employees than the tourists. We started to feel special. When we left the island, we passed on taking a taxi and carried our own bags across the beach. We were able to say goodbye to Coco, Marcello, and one of the guys from Pedra Sobre Pedra. They were coming out of the woodwork to say their farewells. It was touching. I even got some kisses

Musical Rooms and Cows on Parade

After our first day at our wonderful pousada, we learned that they started a construction project on the first level. They were sanding, with electric sanders, all of the wood and beams below us. It was noisy, and some of the hotel was dusty, but surprisingly, after Rio, it did not bother me enough to move. I think it was because they would not start working until close to 10, so we were never woken by it. Also, they were already giving us a discount of over $20 a night because we were staying so long. So, we stayed as long as we could, until all of the upstairs rooms were reserved. Then, we had to move to a back room for a few nights. It was much cheaper and saved us some money, but it was smaller, with no spectacular breeze and only had local TV. We enjoyed our Sky satellite TV in our special room. It was nice to relax and watch TV at night since we don’t really do the late night bar or club scene. We knew we could survive without the TV for a few days, we had done it before. But, Eric has a habit of turning on the TV and going through the stations even if he knows he won’t find anything in English. Sometimes he will find a football match to watch. But, our first night in the cheaper room we saw something we have never seen anywhere before. Eric found a station that appeared to be like a Home Shopping Network or QVC, but for cattle and horses. Various cows were videotaped with stats on the screen like how many kilograms of lactation they offer. It was freaky, even more so because there were several stations showing the same thing. More cow stations than football stations. At that point I became very excited about the possibility of moving back to one of the front rooms, which we did just three nights later. Yeah, no more cows on parade.

The problem arose though, that the simple construction project had turned into a major renovation of every room in the hotel. I was learning to deal with it, and just did not want to change locations. It seemed so many of the hotels were under construction or had construction next door. It would be almost impossible to avoid. On one of our last days, however, my patience wore thin. We had been asked to leave the veranda so they could sand the wood deck. We were told we could come back around 1pm. When we did, not only were they nowhere near complete, but they could not find the key to our room. Turned out our room was left open during the workers’ lunch break because they had been working in the room without our knowledge. Our room was trashed and dirty, and of course, unlocked with all of our stuff in it. I lost my patience and threw a fit. I had a somewhat aggressive conversation with the woman who worked at the pousada, although not the owner. Apparently the owner who only spoke Portuguese told me they would be working in the room but I did not understand. I only understood that at some point they would be working on the veranda. I had it out with the other employee, all in Spanish, about how unhappy I was. Again, Eric had great pride in my Spanish skills. I was thinking that if I could successfully argue with someone in a heated debate in a foreign language, I was winning the war on being a single language speaker.

The Dark Night

During our stay, we were using the internet down the sand path from our pousada. We were ordering some books on Amazon to be shipped to a friend in the US. Just after I hit submit, the computer and the lights started to flicker. It did that for a minute or so, while I watched the progress of the order, wondering if it would go through. Then, it was dark. It was a dark that we had not experienced for quite some time, probably since the power outage in Laos. We paid for our internet time and exited the business onto the path. I cannot see at night, I am awful in the dark. Eric always picks on me for it. With no moon out, and no lights on the entire island, the sky exploded with stars. It was one of the most amazing things. After enjoying the stars for a bit, we made our way next door to a wood fired pizza place for a nice and tasty pizza. We sat outdoors under kerosene lanterns. We were headed to Tia Lita’s but I did not want to walk that far, particularly to find out they were closed. It was a good thing too, because we saw Tia Lita and the girl who works there at the next table enjoying a pizza. When we left the power was still out. I held Eric’s arm as he guided me back to the pousada. One of the employees had a big light to help us up the stairs and Eric grabbed our flashlight. We just sat on the balcony enjoying the stars and wishing we knew more about astronomy and the constellations. It was simply beautiful.
 

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Photos

Our View
During low tide - very low tide

Low Tide Delivery
Notice the workers napping on the boat, waiting for the water level to rise.

Acai
So yummy.