Brazil is too damn big. That’s a problem when we’re trying to see as much of this continent as possible and can only allocate so much time to each country. Our average has been about six weeks. We cut that short in Peru, Bolivia, and Uruguay, and went a bit longer in Chile and Argentina. Theoretically we could have added a week or so to Brazil by stealing from Colombia, but a while ago we found cheap tickets from Salvador to Bogotá for April 5 so that’s locked us in a little on our schedule.
So basically, we’re going to have to come back. We were planning to come back anyway to see more of Bolivia, so now we’ll add Brazil to that future trip. We didn’t see any of the sights around Brasilia, we didn’t get to visit the beaches in Fortaleza, and we’ll have gone around the whole continent without once dipping our toes in the Amazon. Brazil is bigger than the Lower 48. You can’t see America in six weeks; it’s the same down here.
What we did this last week was squeeze in as much Brazil as we could in the little time remaining. In my last post I was moping around in Porto Seguro while Lea snorkeled in Morro de São Paulo. (More on that in a future article.) Since then we reunited in the port city of Salvador, saw the sights there, then bused seven hours inland to the small town of Lençóis and the giant wilderness of Chapada Diamantina.
Side note 1: Lençóis is pronounced “Len-Soys,” not “Len-Swah.” And the letter T is pronounced like a CH and the letter R is pronounced like an H. Because Portuguese.
Side note 2: In this part of Brazil, at least half of the restaurants are buffets where you pay by the kilo. In deference to that slice of Brazilian culture, and all the buffets we’ve eaten during the past week, here are some options on the menu:
Dish 1: Churches
When this journey began, Lea and I spent a lot of time visiting old colonial Catholic churches to admire the architecture and the artwork inside. Somewhere halfway down Chile the churches lost their shine, the architecture became more modern and boring, and Lea and I stopped bothering. That changed once we got to Córdoba and the old churches started trying again. The city of Salvador, with its dazzling cathedrals on the hilltop Pelourinho district, wins the prize.
The interiors of these churches are gilded beyond belief. Our hostel was almost next door to the Church of the Third Order of Our Lady of the Rosary of the Black People. (How’s that for a mouthful?) It was built in the 18th century by black slaves who weren’t allowed to attend services elsewhere. The exterior, perched on a steep cobbled slope, is robin’s egg blue. The interior is an astounding tribute to the work of those who constructed it.
Further up the hill is the Catedral Basílica de Salvador, the principle cathedral of the old city, with enough gold and silver inside to blow the lens right off your camera. Even more impressive, in a different way, is the Igreja e Convento de São Francisco, hidden so well on the other side of the hill that you can easily miss it. The outside is nothing spectacular, but the inside of the convent and church are covered with painted tile. I don’t just mean individually painted tiles, I mean giant tile paintings rendered across every wall of every courtyard and many of the interior rooms. The images are mostly still intact and the sheer amount of work required to create these hidden masterpieces is humbling in the extreme.
Dish 2: Dance
By sheer luck, the hostel I booked in Salvador was one block away from the home of the Balé Folclórico da Bahia, with shows every night. Lea had the chance to see this dance troupe perform in Atlanta two years ago. Here we just walked up the street, bought tickets, and enjoyed the show.
The BFB is the only professional company of folk dancers in Brazil and has achieved international acclaim. Their repertoire includes dances of African slaves, local samba, and capoeira – the martial arts/dance style that originated in this region. No photos or videos of the program were allowed so once again I’ll have to swipe some of the Interwebs.
Dish 3: Cobbled Streets
If I go the whole rest of my life without walking or riding on another cobbled street, it will still be too soon. However, I’m sure Colombia will provide many more for me to enjoy. In Pelourinho and Lençóis there are nothing but cobbled streets. Steep cobbled streets. And when I say “cobbled” I mean “someone dumped a bunch of random rocks between the buildings and called it a day.” Every single step twists your ankle in a different direction, which is especially fun when lugging 30 kg of backpack up or down an incline. It’s even more fun when it’s been raining and the rocks are slick.
Dish 4: Rivers, Rocks, and Waterfalls
Apparently water runs downhill. You’d think we’d have learned this by now, having spent a week at Iguazú Falls, but nevertheless water features keep drawing us back. No matter how big or impressive one set of falls is, every one is beautiful in its own way. So we bused out to Chapada Diamantina and signed up for three tours of its river canyons, falls, and water-filled caves. The first fall that we visited, Mosquito Falls, was the most impressive, not in the least part because we could swim in the pool at its base and stand (as close as we dared) under the fall itself.
Later that day we hiked up the Rio Lençóis just outside of town to several areas used as natural swimming pools by the locals. While theoretically you could find all these spots on your own, there’s no way you can realistically do it without a guide. The trail vanishes for kilometers at a time and is not blazed in any way. Along the hike you also get to see giant conglomerates – formations of different size rocks that were the results of ancient river deposits and massive offshore debris flows.
By the third day of hiking, heavy overnight rains had flooded the rivers of the area. We climbed down to the Rio Mucugezinho, which was still in full flood. The restaurant at the base of the steps had been destroyed and the bridge we were meant to take to the Devil’s Pool, a popular swimming spot, had been washed away by the torrent.
Speaking of climbs…
Dish 5: Uneven Steps to Everywhere
I swear, many South Americans would fall on their faces if they ever tried walking on level ground. I’m not just talking about Brazilians, or even modern post-conquest South Americans. This tendency goes back as far as every ancient civilization whose ruins we’ve come across on our voyage. If South Americans of any era had built the city of Colorado Springs, for example, they would have built it on top of Pike’s Peak.
That’s all just to warn you that you cannot visit this part of Brazil without climbing up and down stairs, inclines, or boulders with every single step you take. Our first day’s hike finished with a climb to the top of a mountain overlooking the valley with the city of Lençóis off in the distance. Our guide was honest about it too – this wasn’t a hike, it was a climb. We scaled boulders, pulled ourselves up on tree branches, and skirted around stone ledges using both hands and feet to stay on the trail. Lea, the smart one, stayed behind at the swimming hole. I, the dumb one, forged ahead.
I don’t know the name of the mountain I climbed and I don’t actually care. By the time we reached the top, it was clear in my mind that mountain climbing – like lion taming – is not something I’ve ever aspired to, nor do I feel any real sense of accomplishment upon achieving it. Still, I did it and here’s the photo to prove it, so you better enjoy it.
On day three we scaled another mountain, this one not nearly as hard. For starters we were able to drive most of the way to the top, and the rest of the hike was marked by a mixture of stone steps (some natural, some put there) and real wooden stairs. I’ve groused in the past about tourist places without tourist infrastructure. That’s not the problem in Chapada Diamantina. The only problem here is that the infrastructure looks like it was designed and installed by the Flintstones.
The point of that last mountain was its fantastic views of the valley region west of Lençóis. In the original program it was to have been the final stop for the day to watch the sunset, but there was a strong possibility of rain in the afternoon so our group elected to tackle it first. (It never rained, BTW.)
I’m not afraid of heights – as long as there’s a solid railing or a good ten feet between me and the drop. I’m not afraid of falling off, because I’d never be so stupid to get close enough to the edge. What freaks me out about sheer mountain tops are the other people – the ones who go right up to the edge and pose for photographs where the slightest gust could turn them into a greasy splat. Just watching them makes every inch of me shriek like metal on glass. As much as I’ve wished ill on all these wannabe fashion models posing in front of natural wonders, I don’t want to witness the worst possible outcome of people with no sense of mortality.
Dish 6: Caves and Azure Pools
There was a photo that brought us to Chapada Diamantina in the first place. It was of a person floating in a crystal blue pool in a cave where the water was so clear you couldn’t even see it. Visiting these caves was a must – it was the “pillar” that brought us here. And thankfully, this pillar did not disappoint. Even though this wasn’t the best time of year in terms of lighting, the view of these pools was amazing.
The first was Poço Encantado. We donned helmets and headlamps, then descended many, many steps down into a cavern where the water-filled bottom was lit by a shaft of light from the other side. Then we turned our headlamps off and saw this:
After spending far too short a time admiring this wonder, we piled back into our tourist van and rode to Poço Azul. (This involved crossing a river by motorized canoe while our van was transported by – I kid you not – a hand-pulled ferry.) At Poço Azul we stripped down to our swimwear, showered off any sunscreen or bug repellent we’d applied, put on life preservers, and picked up snorkel gear.
That’s right, folks – we snorkeled. According to our guide, the water filters through Poço Azul quickly enough to maintain its clarity without being clouded by things like human body oil so long as the number of swimmers is limited and certain precautions are taken. The waters at Poço Encantado filter more slowly, and so swimming is forbidden.
Swimming Poço Azul was magical. There weren’t any fish to see, but the rock formations and especially the play of sunlight and shadow were breathtaking. The area available for swimming wasn’t very large. It was limited to where the sunlight could reach, but under the surface was a giant structure that, to my D&D-addled mind, looked like a submerged dragon skull. Which I’ve filed away as source material for a future story to write, thank you very much.
The last cavern we visited was dry, though there were signs that water had flowed freely across the floor, and not in the too distant past. It was a long climb in and a long climb out, but the cavern itself was wide and beautiful. What I particularly enjoyed was that unlike other caves for tourists, this one wasn’t pre-lit. Everyone in our group carried a flashlight, which gave the cave a different feel than any I’d visited before. Lea also pointed out that not having permanent lighting prevented moss and lichen from growing on the formations that were normally left in the dark.
Dish 7: The Perfect Flan
Brazil being as large as it is, there are noticeable regional differences in cuisine, even to fast-traveling Americans like ourselves. In the South there was a great variety in “lanches” – afternoon snacks – from burgers with corn and peas to loaded fries and vegetable risotto. Here in the North, we’re in the land of meat buffets and lukewarm empanadas. However, what the North does have going for it is the best flan anywhere, that even beats Mexico. Hell, I don’t even like flan but I love it here.
Lea mentioned to Radi, our hostess in Lençóis, that flan was her favorite desert. When we came home from our excursion, Radi had made us a giant plate of flan all for ourselves – it was dinner and breakfast the next morning. Lea has now committed herself to tracking down a flan recipe specifically from the state of Bahia, Brazil. I see lots of flan in the future once we come home, and I don’t mind.
Speaking of Coming Home:
We have a date! Our plane will land in Fort Lauderdale Airport, which has the best airport pizza in the world (Desano, on Concourse G), on Friday, May 17. Our transfer to Atlanta will land just around midnight. We’ve already lined up an apartment (knock on wood) and will burn some Holiday Inn points and make ourselves ill at our favorite Atlanta restaurants while we get our new flat ready.
Between here and there, though, is Colombia. Onward!
P.S. Our Route Through Brazil
Here it is. You can see how much of the country we did not cover and will have to come back for.
P.P.S. My Film Recommendation for Brazil
City of God (2002, directed by Fernando Meirelles and Kátia Lund)
Normally I’ve recommended a book for each country we’ve visited, but I just finished the original novel City of God by Paolo Lins and the only point in its favor is that the movie wouldn’t have existed without it. Looking at other reviews online, this was a “love it or hate it” novel and I fall into the “hate it” camp. The book chronicles three decades of gang life and warfare in Rio de Janeiro’s most dangerous slum. The film manages to find a coherent narrative in the middle of all the violence; the book does not. Instead of a novel, it reads more like the plot synopsis of a twenty-year soap opera where every single character is shallow and despicable. Even though it was based on the author’s personal experiences growing up in Cidade de Deus, the book rambles and repeats itself while failing to find the essential humanity in its characters. The movie fixed those problems. Watch it. You can read my full review of the book here on Goodreads.
For my next check in, we’ll be north of the equator for the first time since Mitad del Mundo in Ecuador. Be excited!