Paradise

We survived! The horrific experience of doing four night bus journeys back to back is now just a grand story. We worked out that over 100 hours of a life we will never see again, 67 were spent being supported by four wheels, generally getting thrown around due to the desperate tarmac shortage that appears to be facing south American roads. As we were powering our way to and through the Brazilian border we changed our plans, and final destination became Paraty, a small colonial town a few hours south of Rio. Part of the ‘Green Coast’ it sits in a bay in which 65 small islands are dotted. The outlook from our beach front hostel was quite something. This however was unknown when we arrived shrouded by the night, and we all (still travelling in a five) simply found a bed and utilised it. When I woke in the morning, I was laying on a bottom bunk, my head was in line with the dorm door, which was open, and I could see the sea, maybe 20m in front of me. Paraty was used then as a chill out, relax, enjoy Brazil experience (for the most part, see day two story..!!). The first day we lounged around, had a swim, got a bit burnt and wandered round town. We also ventured out in the evening through the cobbled streets and enjoyed some cocktails and schemed about how to best explore the bay. We teamed up with an Aussie girl and agreed that the next day, when the other three in our party left, we would form a new posse, rent a canoe for the day and go hence forth.

Unfortunately it wasn’t that simple. Canoe man we had seen on our beach was nowhere to be seen. Armed with information that there was another guy on the next beach along we set off, took the wrong path, got lost in jungle wilderness and then became stranded on a rock from which we could see that target beach but not reach it!! Plan A was hatched, and Stuart swam to the beach hoping to persuade canoe man to give him a canoe (with no money, we didn’t want to get it wet) so that he could rescue us, we could hand over currency and be on our way. Plan A failed. On receiving the signal that Stu couldn’t get a canoe, we assumed money was the problem and I set about getting to the beach with the wallet under my hat, id keep my head up, pay, rescue aussie girl and wed be on our way. Plan B failed, due to the likelihood that my hat was not going to stay dry I had to swim to ‘shore’ and clamber over rocks and barnacles, bashing myself and also cutting open my feet on oysters, gradually skirting to the beach. On arrival I gathered from Stu that these injuries could be added to exhaustion from his swim and further abrasions! I also learnt money was not the problem, canoe man had simply decided to take his lunch break and bugger off. When he returned we arranged to get a canoe, and looked up to see aussie girl being rescued by a fisherman. So, I didn’t need to come to the beach, and now nor did Stu as we would have been saved had we stayed put. It then started to rain. Then a lad from Manchester arrived and told us it was a ten minute stroll round the road from the hostel. We were tired, bleeding and battered and gave up. The next day we got up early, got canoes and went for it, found little coves and hidden beaches and generally had a fantastic day. That easy.

From Paraty we took a small bus and then ferry trip to Ilha Grande, an island with no roads (for it has no cars), no banks and not many people. There is nothing here but beaches, restaurants and some souvenir shops. Its bloody marvellous. We are once again soaking up beach delights, dancing to late night samba-beats and also trekking into the Jungle. We saw monkeys and Lizards before dipping in freshwater pools in clearings and finding more hidden beaches with amazing Brazilian women. This seems as close to paradise as we are likely to get… but then there are still five months to go!!