Where to even begin??? I have 12 glorious days to attempt to
recap. Sometimes when you travel, you stumble upon a place that
is….. magic. Pure magic. Unadulterated (my mom’s favorite word). Florianopolis
put a spell on me. A spell so strong that I couldn’t tear myself away from the
moment for even an hour to write about what I was experiencing. I was afraid I
would miss out on something.
Now that I am up North in Jericoacoara, time has slowed down
and I am able to catch my breath. As I talked with the people at my vila last
night, I was astonished that no one knew of or had heard about this island –
affectionately called “Floripa” by the people who love it most. I first heard
of it from my old roommate in Oakland, a schoolteacher with a shy sweet smile
and knack for crafting named Adam. Adam spent a summer bartending in Buenos
Aires several years ago. After wearing himself down to a thread from a
sleepless diet of vodka and cigarettes, he finally collapsed on this magical
island to recover. That’s how I heard about it. He said I absolutely,
positively had to go. And for at least a week, more if I could swing it. Well, I
only booked 5 days because I am crunched for time. But on day #4, I cancelled
all my future flights and hostels and decided to stay another week in Floripa.
It was an easy decision.
I’m a little overwhelmed on how to write all the things I
want to write. But let’s go for it. This will be a loooooooooong one!
Barra Beach Club Hostel. Adam wrote me a list of things to
do on the island, and he said definitely stay at this hostel and book in
advance, which I did. Barra Beach Club is rated 2nd in all of South
America, and it’s only 2nd place because the 1st place
hostel is a brand new swanky one with a club. It’s located centrally on the
island in the town of Barra da Lagoa, which is bordered by a big lake on one
side and a few beaches on the other. The man who built the hostel is an
American-born, Hawaiian-raised expat surfer named Jim. Many years ago he tried to build some
more rooms up on the hill and the city told him he couldn’t make them into
rooms, so he created an open air dining area and bar instead. Looking back,
this is the best thing that could have ever happened to him, he said. Because now,
this deck has one of the best views in town, the sparkling little beach called
Prainha do Leste. And us hostel kids are the ones enjoying it. To the sweet
tune of $30/night. An Italian chef named Laura and her Japanese/Brazilian
boyfriend run the kitchen downstairs, creating tantalizing dishes every evening
for us at a really decent price. There were always 2 plates to choose from plus
a veggie option: BBQ’d ribs and homemade potato salad, spinach ravioli and
cream sauce, fresh caught grilled fish with almond sauce, mango and smoked
salmon salad with avocado and chili lime yogurt, ceviche, yakisoba, and
the list goes on and on. The food was phenomenal. Of course the bar always had
a pretty girl behind it: an Argentinian, a Brazilian, and an American. From
7-7:30 free caipirinhas were served. Other popular drinks included coke with
rum and lots of lime – a “Cuba Libre” – and daiquiris made with fresh fruits
cut right there in front of you.
I met a lot of awesome people during my time there at the
hostel, and I now realize that it would be very hard for me to work in that
kind of an environment. It’s way too easy to get attached, and then they leave.
It was heartbreaking when they left. Especially the adorable feisty little
Bolivian girl with the pixy cut, Melisa, who reminded me of my sister Melissa.
“I make my boobs” she said to me one day, smiling proudly. I had to laugh a
little over that adorable translation, and I assured her that her boobs were
perfect J.
More people came and went, and I missed them too. There was the house music
loving, toe-headed, blue-eyed British couple, Lauren and Jonny. And the 4
American boys who kept me laughing non-stop over their ridiculous comments and
banter. And Nina, the Swedish MD who had a cute habit of over-exaggerating – “It is
so hot out, I am going to die”… “I can't paddle anymore, I think my arms will
fall off”. There was a Brazilian man going through divorce and a sort of
mid-life crisis with an 8-year-old daughter at home, and he could whip up the
most incredible chocolate pudding. I watched him trying to piece his life back
together, admired his strength, and wondered how he came to this island? But it
was hard to talk with him because he didn't know any English and I didn’t know
any Portuguese. So we simply shared chocolate pudding and just smiled over the
intermittent flow of “mmmm’s” and “aahhhh’s” between bites.
Barra da Lagoa. Or as I called it, “the big beach”. It’s across
the bridge from “the little beach”, the gem in front of our hostel known as
Prainha do Leste. Getting across the bridge can be a process, even though the
bridge itself is really short. I have never in my life encountered people who
walk so slow. And they don’t move over either. They take their sweet time,
walking 4 wide, so there is no space for you to get by. If you are coming in
the opposite direction, they make no attempt to create an opening for you, so you
are standing on your tippy toes squeezing against the side. People stop and
pose for pictures constantly, blocking the way. It’s just something you have to
accept – that it will take anywhere from 5-10 min to cross it sometimes. But
once across, there is the cutest little town bustling with energy, and the
biggest beach. The big beach stretches endlessly – I never walked the entire
length of it. It’s a pretty popular surf spot too, especially for beginners. I
surfed there twice. Once with my Brazilian friend Ale (“Ah-lee”) but it was kinda big for me that day, and then another time on my own. Ale liked
to walk realllllly far down to surf, where it’s less crowded and the waves are
better. When I surfed on my own, I stayed more in the middle of the beach,
which was a stupid thing to do. People in the water just didn't get it. The surf
instructors would be yelling at them constantly to get out of the way, and they
would just stare back. Every time I would paddle to an area with no one in my
path, a few minutes later, 5+ beach goers would be splashing around right in my
way. Then when I would catch a wave, they would stand there screaming as if I
was purposely trying to hit them. Super annoying!!! So after an hour and one
painful jellyfish sting, I gave up. On the big beach are a few drink carts that
rotate around. Tanned boys push the carts up and down the beach all day,
blaring music loudly and making the most delicious cocktails and fruit juices
in their hand-powered blenders. Of course tons of food, swimsuit, and jewelry
vendors wander through the densely packed crowds. I caved and bought a
handmade t-shirt with a dia de los muertos skull colorfully printed on it, and
also a short little gypsy skirt made from different patterned fabrics sewn
together. I also bought more corn on the cob. It’s so waxy but I love it!
Prainha do Leste. The little beach in front of our hostel.
There are rocks and steep banks on either side of this tiny beach, and stairs
leading up to the trail that runs in front of the hostel. The trail leads to a
rocky swimming hole if you take a left, and to the bridge and town and big
beach if you take a right. There is also a trail you can take to a cross up on
a big rock that has a gorgeous view of everything.
Praia Joaquina. This is another super popular beach and
beginner surf spot that is only a 30-minute bus ride away. Melisa and I went
here together and had the best time, except Melisa got us on the wrong bus and
it took over an hour to get to there. A sweet local lady helped us find our
way, and the 3 of us hung out all afternoon. It’s much smaller then the beach
at Barra da Lagoa, but more beautiful I think. Melisa told me stories about her
family. How her dad built a soy fortune out of nothing. How in love her parents
still are after all this time. How her oldest brother struggled with depression, despite having everything… because he had everything. How heart shattering that was. Looking back on my own life, I am so
grateful for my family. They have given me endless things that money could
never, ever buy.
Hike to the naked beach & Praia Mole. There is a narrow and steep trail by the hostel that winds through the river village and up over a
mountain. It is supposed to take an hour, but because of my frequent water
breaks and photo stops it was more like a buck 30 for me. The trail dumps you
at the naked beach. It has a name, but I don’t remember it. I was so hot and
exhausted by the time I made it to the bottom, but as I walked onto the hot sand,
there were the 4 American boys! Rob, Corey, Jordan, and Bryce – all of them
freshly graduated from college. It was such a nice surprise to see them! The beach
was incredibly vast and beautiful in an untouched, rugged kind of way. There
was a scattering of mostly naked men. Jordan was the only one in our group to
strip down, but the others said this is not the first time he’s done that. He
got banned from a water park once for taking his trunks off on a slide, Rob
explained. We ordered ice cold freshly blended fruit juices: pineapple, kiwi,
strawberry. Some of the guys walked over these huge rock formations, but
quickly came back as they said there were some “suspicious” activities going on
over there. We hiked down the beach, crossed another pile of rocks, and found
ourselves on Praia Mole. This is an ultra popular beach for younger people and
a more advanced surf break. I liked this spot so much I went back a 2nd
time with my friend Nina and the blonde British couple.
South Island tour. The hostel arranged a day for us in the
south part of the island. We explored 3 different beaches. The first one was
the prettiest. The American boys brought a soccer ball and a group of us tried
to play the game where you pass the ball around in a circle, but we could never
make it past 3. Ale brought his surfboard and a few of us took turns paddling
out. We ate lunch at a cool place where the walls and ceilings were covered
with white napkins and papers that people had written on. They fluttered in the
breeze as we dined on fried fish, rice, salad, and a nasty thick and gooey
tomato/seafood puree that the locals seemed to be crazy over but we all hardly
touched. The last thing we did was hike to a “waterfall”, which was barely a
trickle of water and mostly some awesome swimming holes. Something I’ve learned
about Brazilians: they always have a
cooler of beer, no matter what. And they take this beer everywhere. There was a group of 3 Brazilian couples at the hostel
who came on the South island tour. They lugged a giant cooler of beer to all 3
of the beaches, which didn’t surprise me, but I couldn’t believe it when
they actually carried it all the way up to the waterfall!!! I mean, this trail
was steep and you had to climb over trees and rocks. I was walking behind them
and realized this was somewhat dangerous… twice they slipped and fell, the
cooler spilling open and half the beers rolling down the trail. They managed to
rescue every single one though. Such talent!
Kayaking the Canal da Barra da Lagoa. Ale took Nina and I
kayaking one morning on the canal. It was against the current so we really had
our workout. I loved it! Nina thought it was ok, but wished we were going with
the current. Ale assured us it would be easier on the way back. His two
adorable dogs, Picollino and Ledy, swam in the water after us for a while but
quickly gave up. I’ve never been to Venice, but I can imagine that this is the
South American version of that. We paddled for 2 hours until we got to a big
lake, all the while passing faded and weathered little cottages on the water. It
was really picturesque and idyllic. Ale turned around half way to the lake and
said he “forgot something”, leaving Nina and I to navigate the rest of the way
by ourselves. On the way back, it seemed the current was even stronger against
us. I think the little brat realized he messed up on the currents and left us
to struggle on our own! Nina was not happy about this. I didn’t mind the
exercise – I’m always in need of an upper body workout.
Campeche Islands. I barely made the cut on this trip as it
gets booked really fast in the summer. So if you ever do this, book it a few
days ahead! Someone didn’t show up so they gave me their spot. Such a cool
trip. First you take a 2-hour boat ride in a rickety old fishing boat, passing
the scenic nude beach, Praia Mole, Joaquina, and many others. The bronzed and
wiry men who run the boat hooked it up for me (one of the many perks of being a
blonde girl in Brazil ;) – they sat me up in the very front of the boat on the
wooden piece that juts out with nets on either side. I sat perched up there
above everyone else with a panoramic view – best seat in the house!!! The boat
rocked and swayed with the waves and sprayed salt water up over the sides. A
really sweet and pretty Swedish girl named Ellie I had met in Punta del Diablo
was on the boat! The randomness of traveling still astounds me sometimes. The
poor girl was having a tough time of it though, as every boy in her hostel was
flocking around her in droves, vying for her attention with such adamant fervor
that it left her completely overwhelmed. I watched in partial amusement at the
ridiculousness of it. “You need to make boundaries,” I told her. The island was
absolutely breathtaking, a vision of sparkling crystal clear water that morphed
into pools of bright turquoise. Several boats were moored offshore and hoards
of people played on the beach. We spent about 5 hours here, playing volleyball
and swimming in the beautiful ocean. There were a few hikes around the island
too, but the sun was so hot no one wanted to do them. Ellie continued to be
followed around by her barrage of male suitors, but I managed to get her away
for some girl time. We reminisced on the good life in Punta del Diablo and
caught up on everything in between. On the boat ride back to town, we feasted
on watermelon.
Sports. There were a few volleyball nets set up by the beach
and people of all skill levels came to play. Groups of 2’s, 3’s, and 4’s played
every evening from 5 pm until as late as 9 pm. Also, 2 slack-lining ropes
seemed to be popular with the teenagers. Of course, there was always a soccer game in progress on an
actual fenced in sand field. One of the coolest things of all, though, was a
beach jazzercise class. Absolutely brilliant!! It involved a woman on a stage
dressed in leotard and sneakers with a microphone headset, leading 30+ bikini
clad ladies and a few brave men in choreographed dances on the sand. I
specifically remember them dancing to “Talk Dirty to Me” and doing jumping
jacks… sooo funny. I would have joined in but it was way too hot.
Nightlife. For being such a little town, Barra da Lagoa
actually has quite a flourishing and colorful nightlife. A lot of the kids at my
hostel were disappointed – it was “too quiet” they said. Most of them took
buses to other parts of the island to visit the ultra famous clubs and enjoy
almost nightly beach parties. But for me, life across the bridge was more then
perfect. Every night there would be some sort of awesomeness taking place.
There was usually a sand soccer game going down on one side. Next to the soccer
field was a mechanical bull you could ride for around $2 and they gave you 2
rides. A few of my friends and I had a competition to see who could stay on the
longest. I’ll give you a hint who won: first name starts with “H” and last name
starts with “B” hehe J.
Lining the street were vendors mixing caipirinhas in 10 seconds and filling
piping hot churros with caramel and chocolate. There was always some sort of
live music, drumming, or dance. One night it was samba. Another night it was a
large group of young Argentinian gypsies who played all sorts of instruments
and sang loudly with fantastic energy. It made me a little envious. I’ve always
wanted to travel in a band, living off coins tossed into a hat and having the
best time ever! My last night, a local group played Brazilian music on the
sidewalk. They were just lovely.
The bank. The nearest ATM was a 30-minute bus ride into
another town. But this was totally ok, as the town was actually pretty neat to
visit. The shopping there was awesome – I may have added a couple more bikinis
to the collection! Also, there were good places to re-stock on essentials like
lotion, sunscreen, toothpaste, and shampoo. Can’t believe I already ran out of
that stuff. Oh, and there were so many ice cream shops too. There was one on
every corner, seriously! If you’ve never tried acai sorbet and vanilla soft
serve swirled together, you haven’t lived.
Last night in Barra da Lagoa. This was a bittersweet night…
I didn’t want to leave! L The good news, though, is that I will most positively definitely be back!!! The
friends I made there are beautiful, passionate, generous people who left an
imprint in my life that I will feel forever. I became especially close to a girl
named Sophie, originally from New Hampshire, the state where I was born. My last night in Floripa was Sophie's birthday, so that was pretty special to celebrate with her. She came to Floripa 4 years ago, stayed for 6 months, went back to the
states because of Visa restrictions, then snuck back into Brazil 2 months later
in a bus across the Uruguayan border. She’s lived there ever since, working odd
jobs of cooking, house cleaning, bar tending, and chasing her little black dog
Frango (Chicken, in Portuguese) around town. But ultimately, living in
paradise. She is surrounded by her “family”, a diverse mix of incredibly
talented people from all parts of the world who have escaped “normal” life and
instead choose to pave their way on this gorgeous island. Like I said, the vibe
is incredible. It’s magic here. Jonathan, a blue-eyed blonde Aussie born to
German-Brazilian parents, has bought land up on the hill. He’s been building
his house all summer, lugging the materials up and doing most of the work all
by himself. Jonathan is a source of constant energy, doing never-ending yard
work around the hostel, and is the self-titled “limbo champion” of Barra Beach
Club. After he has a couple Cuba Libres, the limbo stick comes out and he
dazzles the crowd with his flexibility! I am still sore from the last limbo
competition. Ale, a Brazilian boy raised in a favela by a single mother of 2,
found himself selling drugs and being involved in gangs at a young age. The
island saved him. Now he surfs every morning, works the front desk of the
hostel every evening, and in between runs around with 2 of the cutest dogs
you’ve ever seen. He lives in a tiny little house no bigger than a studio
apartment, with a teeny kitchen and a big window that overlooks the ocean. And
he loves to cook. The boy can cook the most delicious things! And so generous
too, giving most of it away to hungry kids in the hostel. Toward the end of my
stay there, I promised him I would make him my favorite go-to dish, inspired by
Southern California cuisine: fish tacos. I couldn’t believe that no one at the
hostel had ever even heard of one, let alone taste one. So I went into town and
bought all of the ingredients, most importantly, fresh white fish with the skin
still on it. I marinated the fish in garlic, lime, olive oil, and basil
(usually cilantro but they didn’t have any at the markets). Then I thinly
sliced the cabbage. A pico de galo was created out of finally diced plum
tomatoes, bell pepper, onion, lime, basil, and the biggest, ripest avocado
chopped into it. And finally, best of all… the white sauce!! Usually
I use half mayo/half sour cream as a base, but they don’t have sour cream on
the island. So I used Greek yogurt instead. And I crushed a clove of garlic
into the sauce and the juice of a lime. For the taco, I melted cheese onto
flour tortillas, topped with the cabbage and sautéed fish, finishing with pico
de gallo and white sauce. Everyone went crazy over it! Ale was surprised how
good it was – he would have never have thought of putting all these ingredients
together. Sophie said she was going to start making them at the restaurant. I’m
telling you, I’ve never met a person who didn’t like a fish taco (unless they
are vegetarian). There were others I became close to also. There was Maru, the
sweetest girl from Argentina. We went to a beach party together and within an
hour wanted to get out of there! The music was terrible. So we walked 30
minutes together in the dark to a bus stop and hitch-hiked a ride back to the
hostel. We bonded that evening, talking about love and loss and how do you ever
really know if you made the right decisions? As we walked up the path at 3 am, I told her I was
starving, so she bought me the most delicious mousse I’ve ever tasted. It was
passion fruit on top and chocolate on the bottom. You could taste the sweetened
condensed milk so distinctly, a nostalgic flavor for me since my dad poured it
over my cheerios as a little girl. Maru has been living on Floripa for 3 years
now, first moving there with her boyfriend and now on her own. She’s a quiet
girl who exudes so much inner strength and outer beauty that she seems
completely oblivious to, which makes her even more beautiful. And finally,
there is Nico, an Argentinian boy with a scintillating smile and long curly
hair who used to work at the hostel but now is a bartender on the beach. He
puts in long hours to provide his baby daughter Maya the best life possible. He
is a special person, there is no doubt. Oozing creativity, his psychedelic art
decorates the hostel walls. He has 2 tattoos – one on each shoulder – that he
designed. One is a sort of star with an “M” in the middle for his daughter, the
other looks like the crazy bubbly inside of a lava lamp. He is a brilliant
musician who loves Jimi Hendrix and The Black Keys, playing in 3 rock bands
during any free time. But on a quiet evening when he picks original acoustic
ballads and sings in his soft, raspy voice, it casts a spell on anyone
listening. This handful of people gave without reserve, inspired me daily, and became not only friends, but family. When I left, I didn’t say goodbye. I said “See you later.”
