Salvador - Intro to Brazil

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Our transition from Patagonia up to Brazil wasn't exactly smooth sailing. The flight El Calafate to Buenos Aires was delayed 6 hours, which allowed copious amounts of Gin Rummy to be played. Even once we finally landed in Buenos Aires, we weren't allowed to leave the plane due to wind and rain on the tarmac. I swear, the crew at EZE airport have no idea how to handle unfavorable weather. An hour later, we disembarked the plane and received our saoked bags from the carousel (they didn't have covered containers to transfer them). Our luck came when we were able to share a taxi with a couple girls from Denver, Jame and Rachel. They had been travelling a similar route through Patagonia and our paths had crossed quite frequently. It was thanks to Rachel that Chloe could overcome her fear that she would be travelling with bedbugs for the rest of the trip. She is a doctor and deals with homeless people that come in with bedbugs. Chloe wouldn't believe me but a credible doctor was different. I'll take what I can get...Our luck at the airport didn't last too long. As we crammed into the taxi with our large backpacks strewn across our laps, our driver raced along the highway, passing cars and trucks with no regard to lanes. The rain poured down, pooling water in the road, steadily increasing my fear of hydroplaning. Fortunately, the Denver girls helped the damage control on Chloe, who was halfway panicking in the backseat. We eventually arrived unscathed to our hostel, which turned out to be really nice, with a modern design to its interior architecture and furniture. After an easy pizza dinner out with the Denver girls, we bid them fairwell and headed to bed. As we were getting ready to go to bed, one of our roommates informed us of a police strike in Salvador that had gone into effect a week earlier. The homicide rate had doubled, leaving 100 dead in a week. We knew that Salvador could be sketchy, but to this level, all we could do is gulp it down and be extra cautious.

The following morning, we were up early after only 4 hours of sleep. On our taxi to the airport, we passed the covered body of someone decapitated by a truck as they tried crossing Avenida 9 de Julio, the biggest avenue in the world. We had personally seen so many people crossing the stret at the more illogical moment, it was only a matter of time until we saw an accident like this. Still, very unnerving...The flight from Buenos Aires went smoothly, but our connecting flight from Montevideo to Salvador was delayed, pushing our arrival to 1am. Fortunately, I had arranged for a taxi to pick us up, and even better, he was there waiting even with the 3 hour delay. As we snaked our way through the cobblestone streets of the historic center where our hostel was located, we noticed the streets were empty, adding to the unease of the potentionally sketchy city we were entering. By 130, we arrived to our hostel, located in a beat up colonial building that epitomized the historic center. Our private room had air conditioning, a large solid bed, a safe, and wasn't located outside in a construction container. I was happy. After 2 long days of travelling, we finally rested.

Due to the blackout shades in the room, we didn't wake up until noon, missing the free breakfast by a long shot. The sleep was much needed though, the last few days of travelling did not allow for much. After talking with a receptionist, we decided the historic center was safe enough to walk around in, even though 30,000 municipal police had been meagerly replaced by 2000 military police. As we walked towards one of the main plazas we passed innumerous faded but brightly colored colonial buildings with run down fascades, as if they had been part of a war where bullets and artillery had chpped out pocks from the walls. This was not really the case but it might as well have been, with the supposed spike in crime. In reality, we never felt unsafe on the walk. As Carnaval was only a week away, being the time where store owners made the majority of their money for the year, we noticed there was a strange vibe circulating about the city. Although every store we entered was friendly, you could tell they were preoccupied that the police would continue the strike, leaving the city unprotected and therefore cancelling carnaval. I on the other hand, was selfishly happy that we had decided to spend Carnaval in Rio, where the police we in full force.

After enjoying the sights of the center, we attempted to find the bus that would take us to the beach. In theory, it looked very simple. But with the fear of walking too far and ending up in a dangerous area in addition to being confused with the street layout in a new city, our simple quest became complicated. Also, some streets appeared to change names between one intersection and the next. So, we spent a few hours simply trying to find the bus stop that eventually, was obvious. After finally catching a bus to Barra (the beach area), we had no idea how far we could take it before we might end up in a bad neighborhood like that receptionist warned us about. In the end, we got off earlier than needed, and posted up on a semi-dirty, skinny city beach in the heart of La Barra. Although safe, it wasn't the beautiful beach we heard Salvador was reknown for. As we laid on the beach, I finally caught sight of all the walking vendors my Brazilian friends in Spain had told me about. Shirts and swimsuits, beers and sodas, food of all sorts including my favorite, sticks of cheese roasted over a coffee can of coals. I knew I could have to try it out sometime, but third world food poisoning weighed too heavily in my mind at the time. We spent only a couple hours on the beach before the sun started going down and we caught the bus back towards the hostel.

Back at the hostel, we arrived towards the end of happy hour at the bar, where caipirinhas were 2x1 at 4 reals, or $2.50. It was during this time we met a bunch of cool and interesting people at the hostel. One couple from Ireland had been on the road for 2 years and planned on travelling for at least 5. They would work for 6 months and travel for the other half. Between Europe, southeast Asia, and now South America, their travels sounded amazing, almost inspiring...These types of people completely trumped our travels and now made 5 months seem meager. I was definitely envious of their spirit and freedom. I don't know how long I could actually be on the road with no real stability but I can't deny the idea seriously intrigued me! 5 months is already a stretch for Chloe, so there was no persuading to be done on that front. A few hours later, after a number of cheap, refreshing, and intoxicating caipirinhas, we cleaned up and got ready to go out with a big group from the hostel. The owner of the hostel, a hilarious and very liberal Israeli expat, recommeded a restaurant near the hostel, walked us over, and set us up. Having not the slightest clue what the majority of the menu translated to, I ordered something inexpensive with an exciting name. What I received was some greasy steak cubes and a puree of potatoes laced with a copious amount of butter and cheese. I knew with this meal, I wouldn't need a drunk snack later - this would cure my hangover before it was even created. After dinner, we all decided to change the scenery to a bar with some music. I could remember passing a few promising ones coming back from the center, so I led us. To our disappointment, everything was closed already at midnight - bars, stores, markets, restuarants. I guess without a police force to protect the city at night, no one saw the benefit in risking getting robbed. So, we turned around and put the hostel bar to work. Among a group of English guys, some Danish and Aussie girls, and Inbal, the hostel owner, we all played some drinking games. Due to the public nature and restrictions to posted content on this site, I can't relay some of the absolutely ridiculous but hilarious things to come out of Inbal's mouth. I'll just say this - he had a very Team America, World Police philosophy on people and the world. No filter, pure genius.

The next day we decided to try for a better, more pure beach experience. This time around, we knew where to catch the bus, which allowed for a much smoother start to the day. Passing through the center, we noticed the classic Bahian Carnaval women, large and dark dark skinned, with extravagent and brightly colored dresses, and equally fun headdresses. We also passed a group of ripped guys practicing capoeira in one of the plazas. The half judo, half dance routine was mesmerizing. Chloe and I both agreed that one of us would kick our partner in the head if we tried going through the seemingly smooth motions. As it turns out, figuring out which beach stop to get off was just as confusing as the day before. After about an hour on the bus, we chose to get off at one that looked semi busy but with plenty open space. Within 2 minutes of walking on the beach, we were approached by several different people promoting their beachfront set-up. We didn't get far before I was convinced by what seemed to be an incredible deal - a full chair/umbrella/table set up for 10 reales each. Chloe was skeptical but I was sold, I wasn't going to let this opportunity slip by. I was stoked, they brought ice cold beers out in a mini cooler, tied my backpack to the chair and umbrella, and offered food if wanted. The little bit of extra security that came with paying for the set up, let alone the ice cold beers at hand, I felt was well worth 10 reales. After chilling out, reading, writing my blog, swimming in the warm water, and putting down a 6 pack, we decided it was time to head back. Much to my surprise, our bill was quite a bit bigger than the 10 reales deal I thought I had been sold. Obviously I knew the beers were gonna bump up the tab, but I guess the table, service charge, and some other charges made for a somewhat expensive beach day. 55 reales later, Chloe says, "I told you so." Whatever, I guess we're called dumb Americans for a reason...

After the beach, our night was pretty low key, just like the state of the city. We had some drinks at the hostel bar and hit the sack by midnight, ready to move on to Itacare, a small surfer beach down 5 hours south of Salvador.

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Photos

Vendores
Need a sun hat? They come to you!

Comments

[Loirinha]

Dumb gringas
God bless naive gringos-gringas. No one charges for a *setup* at the beach anywhere in BRazil, and certainly not in Salvador. The chairs and table come with the price of the drink or whatever you order. However, one can see from the photos that the barraca you chose has fancy lounges, and therefore the price of everything they serve would be more than one that had only plastic chairs, table and an umbrella over them. Thanks fo the laugh of the day.