Day 7 - Paraty, Jeep Tour & Waterfalls

Alas, a quiet sleep it was not. We thought we had escaped the noise of Rio – but it turns out even small little towns accrue their own fair share of nightly clamor. That said – it was still quieter than Rio – there’s something more peaceful to the roars of car engines than the racket of jackhammers. We awake to a small continental breakfast – and thankfully – strong, dark coffee. 

We pack our bags, ready for a day of swimming – and head to the tourist office. Outside the building was a large, raised, green jeep – and inside was a group of clearly (pale white) English speaking people. We attempted to board, however, were told This one isn’t for you. Hmm. A second jeep arrived a few minutes later and we were told this one was for us. Inside were two couples – both Portuguese and non-English speakers. Joining our crew was a guide – also non-English speaking - and the driver. Rach and I looked at each other as if there’d been a mistake, but we’re told – this is your jeep. In the end, there was no real difference as both groups joined together after the 30 minute ride. After driving round winding and dusty roads – we arrived at our first stop. We exit the jeep and start a trek through some jungle (we’d already put on our DEET spray!) until a few minutes later – we emerge on to a small pathway up a cliff. Hanging from some low hanging branches in front of us was a small group of wild marmosets – the guide produced a banana from her pocket and attracted one toward us – kawaii! We begin walking again and exit up the cliff and find ourselves staring out on to a group of beautiful, small waterfalls. We spend an hour here, swimming around the small natural pool and playing under the falls. This was my first chance at playing with my new waterproof GoPro – which seemed to work great!

We dry off in the sun, taking in the beautiful surroundings before heading back down the path – but, there was a guardian of the path we’d under estimated – a large, angry, brown spider. Standing directly in front of us with its fore-legs in the air in an aggressive attack position – I heroically attempted to shoo it from our way. The spider hissed and jumped toward me – narrowly missing my jugular with its fangs*. We ran forward, away from the vicious guardian – safe to live another day. We board the jeeps again and carry on to our next destination... *Some elements may be exaggerated.

The jeeps take us to a local sugar cane plantation which produces the Brazilian Cachaca liquor – as well as molasses and other sugary goodness. We are taught how the cachaca is produced (Sugar cane is ground, purified, distilled, then barreled in different woods – depending on the type of liquor), then are given samples of each type of cachaca they produce – cinnamon & clove, molasses-caramel, coffee liqueurs…etc. After the gently inebriating tour we are taken to a local restaurant to eat local food (re: salty meats and beans).

After a brief lunch – where we sat with a Canadian girl from the other jeep, who had been touring Brazil for three months – we headed to waterfalls 2 and 3. Waterfall 2 was a tall, slippery, boulder-like falls, with water smoothly covering all surfaces. This created a very slippery rock surface – which the locals used as a kind of water slide. Our guide told us it was too dangerous to attempt and took us away to waterfalls #3. Of course, I snuck back and went down the falls anyway! It wasn’t dangerous, but it was fun.

At waterfalls 3, there was another small pool we could swim in – as well as a cliff jumping spot. Once again we were told not to attempt this, as the water was not very deep. As I could see the bottom from where I was standing – I heeded her warning this time. There was however, more excitement to be had – beside the falls was a very worn, rickety wooden bridge. Swaying under the mere thought of crossing it, the bridge had clearly seen better days. Rach and I strapped on our adventure shoes and slowly climbed aboard the derelict bridge. As we crossed the water the bridge swayed and creaked – boards lifted and fell as we tread – with planks broken from their fastenings. Again, we emerged wholly undamaged, satisfied in crossing our first rope bridge.

We finished our tour with a second cachaca distillery (a bit tired of it at this point) and headed back home. We arrive in town to a raucous of noise – a woman's voice shouting over a loudspeaker. I jokingly say to Rachel – That sounds like Portuguese bingo. Lo, I was right – there were around 1,000 people in the town square, all playing bingo – stamping their little paper cards with each proclaimed letter and number. It was an odd sight to say the least – as we watched old men, women, children, and even the shop keepers taking part.

To cap the day off in the last remaining rays of light, we walked along the beach in low tide, squelching and squishing along the sodden sand. As the sun finally sets we had our dinner once again in the old town – enjoying our last night in the beautiful historic atmosphere. We saunter back to our room and await the oncoming dawn for our next bus – to Sao Paulo.