Day 8 - Paraty to Sao Paulo

We arise the next morning – this time fresh faced and awake from a quiet nights rest. We enjoy the small continental breakfast at our hotel, pack our bags, and then head for the bus terminal. Arriving in the small terminal – we’re shocked at how crowded it is. It seems buses really are the way to travel in South America. We wait. And wait. And wait some more. Looking around anxiously, checking to see if our bus had arrived around the corner – or thinking, did we miss it? Surely not, as the woman behind the counter told us – no English spoken – the bus will be in one of the 4 lanes in front of you.

Sure enough, the bus arrives an hour and a half late and we board our charter. Frustratingly, the bus driver pulls out of Paraty, and about 15 minutes down the road, pulls into a truck stop for a 30 minute break. At least it gave us a chance to use the restrooms – as we’d been at the bus terminal for 3 hours and didn’t dare use the toilets lest we miss our tardy bus! Hopping back into the coach, we had a smooth 3 hour drive to Caraguatatuba – our layover on the way to Sao Paulo – where we reveled in the sunshine and glorious coastal roads.

Arriving in Caraguatatuba hours later than our booked tickets, we had to get our bus tickets changed at the counter. Once again, no English spoken, we had to speak in broken Portuguese/Spanish and nod a lot – eventually getting the message across that our bus was late. The ticket lady seemed to understand (maybe she’s accustomed to late buses) and booked us on to the next bus to Sao Paulo for no charge. We grabbed a quick bite to eat (hamburger again – seemingly their national dish) and board our coach to Sao Paulo – a further 3 hour drive.

Arriving much later than planned, we catch a taxi to our hotel – taking in the city sites as we roll. Sao Paulo, compared to Rio, appeared to be far more developed and in better condition, with many tall buildings/skyscrapers scattered along our journey. We checked in to our room, then immediately left for a night time stroll. Sao Paulo – in the jardins district – was very clean, and gave a safer impression than Rio. We strolled through many green blocks, past chiq pizza restaurants and mini marts. Neither of us were particularly hungry, so Rach grabbed a pudding (no surprise) as I grabbed a beer (also standard), and we headed back to our hotel. On the walk back we came across a very friendly (rabid?) bat – which made me question whether we had or had not received our rabies shots. We took the elevator up to the 8^th floor and called it a night – in our blissfully quiet room. Finally.

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.

Day 6 - Rio to Paraty

Today we say Goodbye to Rio and make a journey along the Southern Brazilian coast to the small colonial town of Paraty. Taking a taxi to Novo Rio – the bus terminal – we buy our tickets for the next available bus to Paraty. We’d researched the buses online – and seen that they departed every hour – however, Tip - pre-booking buses online (or going to the station) at least the night before will ensure your seats, as the buses are surprisingly very busy. We board our bus – with assigned seating – and someone is sitting in our seats. It’s always awkward telling people to move – even more so when you don’t speak the language and they’re convinced it’s their seat! We eventually get seated, and revel in the deep, soft, well cushioned seats. The buses here put Greyhound and Megabus to shame!

Our ride is around 6 hours (with stops and traffic) to Paraty. Arriving in the early afternoon, we saunter around the old cobbled streets and search for our accommodation. We have a quaint hostel (more like 2* hotel) located 2 minutes from the bus station and about 30 seconds from the old quarter. In our room was a brochure for a local tour operator, offering city tours that night. We hop on over (it’s a small town) and book our tickets for the evening, as well as a jeep jungle tour for tomorrow. As the jungle tour takes you to waterfalls to swim under – it was time for me to find a bathing suit. Intriguingly all the shops sold swim trunks with no mesh lining! It wasn’t until I realised the shorts are essentially male sarongs (modesty converings) and I’d have to take the plunge and buy some swimming booty shorts. To be quite honest – I look rad in my new trunks.

With new swimming gear in hand, it was time to do the city tour. We arrive back at the tourist shop and are greeted by an elderly man who informs us the tour will take place in both English and Portuguese. We begin our tour of the old quarter with 3 Portuguese tourists – and as we wander the labyrinthine streets, certain spots are pointed out in English then in Portuguese – with seemingly more conversation in the latter than the former. It was an enjoyable tour – highlighting the origins of the town [Paraty was a port town founded on the gold and diamond trades, controlled by wealthy ‘Masons’ and was heavily stratified by class and race. Thousands of slaves passed through the town – and lived in certain districts away from the rich and whites]. Overall it was an informative tour and Paraty turned out to be a lovely, quirky little town. We finish our tour tasting some local cachaca (sugar cane liquor) – which an overly jubilant Portuguese man spilled over my leg in excitement at showing off a local delicacy. We end our night at a beautiful, candle-lit restaurant in old town and conclude with a lovely, warm walk back to our room for a nice, quiet, relaxing sleep. Or so we thought.