A good day for a bus journey saw us leaving the vast clump of concrete jungle that is Sao Paulo. Luckily we had packed well, and intelligently, and our rucksacks that are zipped onto or backpacks are easily detachable, and packed for a bus journey. Simply, unzip the rucksack from the backpack, and hey presto! you have a rucksack filled with the things you need, and the backpack can be stored safely in the buses hold.
View from the bus, Sao Paulo to Paraty, 2013
Waterfall, 2013
Cloud-shrouded mountain, 2013
The journey was a good one. Brazilians enjoy plenty of bathroom breaks and lunch stops on their bus journeys. They also enjoy amazing scenery – our first view of coastal Brazil outside of it’s monstrous state capital. Along the way, we saw high hills shrouded in low-lying clouds, waterfalls and plenty of VW beetle-bugs. The sun was beating down on us, so luckily the bus was A/C. It looks like ALL buses have A/C in Brazil, and they are relatively comfortable too; which is lucky because everything is so expensive here. In fact, let us just take a minute to just appreciate that fact. EVERYTHING is expensive here. Food, travel, clothes, accommodation. Ridiculous prices for the quality and service that you receive, especially as foreigners who speak little to no Portuguese. Unfortunately, this does not look like it is just reserved to Carnival time here in the Southern states of Brazil. High taxes and a crazy Western-style credit lifestyle all mean high prices, and increasing debt for Brazil’s working and middle classes. The gap between rich and poor increases each year, which means, for travellers like us, that visiting now is a must, because in year to come, South America will be unaffordable.
Francesca woke me from this reverie as our bus was bumping and speeding along into our next destination. “Did you see that?” “What?”, I replied. “This place has Masonic symbols all over the entrance!”. Not paying much mind to this, I was busy looking at our new home for the next 6 days: Paraty. A far cry from the towering multitudinous jumble of dirty high-rise ghettos, Paraty is a sleep colonial town, now only populated by retirees and tourists. Covered in cobblestones and granite pavement, a quaint peaceful feeling covers this tranquil ex-port.
Colin in the port of Paraty, 2013
We unloaded into our modest hostel accommodation (modest in facility, not in price – at R$150 per night, or $US75, Refron du Mar was the cheapest hostel available. Damn! We need to totally reset our thinking – we expected to shell out a lot in Brazil, Chile and Argentina, but in truth, Francesca and I are both still remembering travels in Asia and the much cheaper lifestyle that that affords! We need to wise-up, and do a proper budget!). At least the place had air-con, like the bus. With temperatures in the mid-30s C (that’s in the 90s F, American friends!).
Once, unpacked, we had another unpleasant financial surprise when we discovered that laundry was $US10 for a medium-size bag. Maybe I’m just being unreasonably surprised by the prices and they are not too high? Nah, it really does suck here, in terms of cost – we probably will not be extending our 90-day visas…
We headed out into Paraty (pronounced ‘Parachy’) that first day, and quickly got accustomed to the layout of the place. We were staying on praia do pontal (‘headland beach’) which was a white sand, dirty water kind of beach. Numerous young couples and groups were relaxing, scattered along the sea front, and drinking cervejas at the wooden huts playing reggae, dub and Brazilian jazz. We walked over one of the two rivers of the town to a little praça, or square, to Paraty 33, a little pub-like restaurant which served us burgers and cold drinks.
Francesca looking pretty in Paraty port, 2013
Quaint cobblestones in colonial Paraty, 2013
With one power blackout whilst we were staying in Paraty, we have definitely been sold on the whole idea of a room with A/C. Paying the extra money in hostels and pousadas, or guesthouses, is absolutely worth it. No power = no sleep. We were also grateful we chose the hostel we did, as I heard from one couple I met that they had moved in from the hostel next door, where people were getting sick from the water….gross.
Refron du Mar, 2013
Sunset from praia do pontal, Paraty, 2013
The next day saw us decide against our planned day trips to neighboring beach towns of Ooba Tuba and Trindade, because we felt that Paraty really had a lot to offer. Plus we really wanted downtime after Sao Paulo, and before the 18 day madness of Carnival time in Rio coming up (Francesca will blog about this) – and so wanted to avoid any unnecessary bus journeys. We did book ourselves on a Paraty walking tour, a day trip sea-kayaking tour, and a historic Brazilian cuisine cooking course though!
Our walking tour was booked through Paraty Tours and was undertaken by an enthusiastic and knowledgeable local called Andrew. He took us on a tour of Paraty’s colonial history. Founded by the Portuguese in 1667, the town’s sole function was to provide a safe port for the many different natural resources. Firstly, spices, and then, after one of the biggest gold discoveries and subsequent gold rush in the world’s history, precious metals, including diamonds. The Caminho do Ouro, or Gold Trail, ran over a 1000Km to Paraty from the mines inland, and was a history game changer for Portugal and Europe for almost a century until pirates and buccaneers forced the Trail to be abandoned for safer overland routes until the gold ran out.
The chain that demarks the old town in Paraty. No vehicles allowed in old town. 2013
Paraty was, therefore, built for defense and protection of these precious resources. To the West, the Atlantic, and a bay, hidden from passing ships by a trove of islands and islets. To the North, a river and hilltop fort. To the South, another river and fort - this fort was built next to Rua de Fogo, or Fire Street, which was frequented by sailors long at sea who wanted to visit the brothels of Fire Street. The Southern fort was as much for protection from pirates and enemy ships, as it was for protection from bawdy and drunk Portuguese sailors. To the East they built a defensive wall.
Rua do Fogo, or Fire Street, Paraty, 2013
The town planners initially made the same mistake that you see in all old towns and cities, even in Edinburgh and London – they did not take care of their sewage! Disgusting as this might have been, they overcame this nightmare by making all of the buildings a step up from the street, with a raised pavement, or sidewalk. Not revolutionary perhaps, until you realize that they designed the town to flood at high tide from the sea, thereby washing all the filth away. The raised pavement acted as a barrier against the waters and so homes did not get invaded by the filthy water. Pretty clever stuff. Even today some parts of Paraty’s old town floods with seawater – but only at full moon.
The Masons were obviously a huge deal back in those days, as they are now. No sign of too much secrecy here though, as Masonic symbols adorn the buildings of their Masonic owners.
Masonic corner house in Paraty, 2013
Mason house with intricate iron decoration, Paraty, 2013
More Masonic houses, Paraty, 2013
Geometric shapes, cosmological symbols and other embellishments signifying various ranks and social standings are proudly and obviously displayed everywhere. Theo pineapple displayed in iron outside the houses in the pictures below show that the owner was of Masonic nobility.
Pineapples denote the house owner was from Masonic nobility, 2013
These Masonic houses were also the highest houses in Paraty, so as to allow the owners to get a full 360-degree angle view around the town.
How did the Portuguese manage all of this? Slavery. Out of the more than 6 million slaves that came to The New World from Africa in forced bondage, 400,000 arrived in Paraty. Indeed, to be classified as a town rather than a mere village, back then; you had to have a pelourinho, or slave whipping post. Paraty’s pelourinho was opposite the main politician’s house so that they could scare the local slaves and populace into abiding by the laws of the land by shouting the laws from the windows. Brazilians seem to be very proud of their integrated culture and molatto multiculturalism – in defiance perhaps of being one of the last countries to ban slavery in 1888 (because people were getting too rich from coffee, tobacco and cotton at that point!).
The blacks got a raw deal. They were even segregated to their own church - Igreja de Nossa Senhora do Rosário e São Benedito (Church of Our Lady of the Rosary and Saint Benedict). The four churches in Paraty were all used by different segregated social groups (women also being cordoned off into their own congregation), which still gives an uncomfortable feeling of those throwback times of bigotry and non-enlightenment.
Capela de Nossa Senhora das Dores (Chapel of Our Lady of Sorrows), 2013
People sure like to drink booze here.
Francesca about to try Cachaça for the first time.
Not sure she likes it though!
Kayaking next. Enough about slavery, plenty of that to come when we make our way around Brazil and see how the Portuguese dealt with the Indians! The only thing left in the area of Paraty which is native is the name. The whole area was called Paraty by the local native people – it means ‘River of fish’ in the Tupi language. Presumably in times when you would not have contracted Hepatitis by looking at the seawater – the Cape Verde, or Green Coast is so-called because of the Atlantic rainforest – I also say it could be so-called because the sea is disgustingly green and brown from toxic pollutants. Luckily, Francesca and I both stayed in the kayak!
Man paddle kayak!
We started off in the morning with Francisco, our Argentine guide working on his university break. Kayak Tours, the imaginatively named company we paid R$100 (US$50) to, provided the equipment and safety demo. Almost put off by some coastal rains in the early morning, we set off anyway – to perfect weather! We paddled for an hour before we reached a secluded island where fresh spring water ran into the sea. Francesca bravely went first to drink it – once I saw she didn’t fall to the floor writhing in agony, I courageously (or not) also sipped a little.
Francesca drinking spring water, near Paraty, 2013
Taking a dip, 2013
After this, and a short dip in the slightly cleaner sea, we set off for some mangrove swamps.
I have wanted to do mangrove sea kayaking since last year when I was in Thailand! It did not disappoint in Brazil. We saw many crabs, spiders, flying fish and birds of prey. The water was very shallow, and the mangroves very close to us – so much so we got invaded by a spider which almost immediately got put back ashore amongst some panic from both of us in our double kayak.
Mangrove swamps, near Paraty, 2013
Intrepid explorer, 2013
Last stop was praia Jabaquara (Jabaquara beach) where we were led to a decent little beach café to order various Brazilian dishes; and while they were being prepared, led to a mud hole right on the beach. With only an imperceptible pause I jumped straight into the mud! Yes, that is what you are supposed to do…very good for your skin, apparently. Stinks like shit though…
Rescuing Francesca from the mud hole, Jabaquara beach, 2013
Muddy couple
After we all had a good mud bath, we managed to shower off in time for lunch. The food was good after such a long day – and we still had to row back! Paddle back we did, and Francesca and I have both agreed this is the most fun, worthwhile experience we have had whilst in Brazil.
Our last Paraty experience came close though!
Richard and Yara are retirees (her, Yara, an ex-dancer, and Richard, a photographer) who also enjoy hosting people from all over the world in their home-based Paraty cooking school (Academy of Cooking and Other Pleasures, $R190 each person). They have had 100’s of people from over 81 countries come to visit them so far. We got dressed up and carefully made our way on the wet cobbles and stones across the town to their place opposite the Theatro Espaco. Welcomed warmly, we stepped inside their home for an immensely enjoyable evening, which saw both Yara and Richard enthusiastically talk to us about the food of Brazil, and how the story of food in Brazil is also the story of Brazil and its people. We learned how to cook with manioc (cassava), the staple of Brazil which was discovered in native people’s cooking upon discovery of the land – and interestingly, was exported to Africa where it has replaced traditional foods alongside maize, also originating in South America. We were shown how to make an Acarajé Soufflé, which was an easy task everything was already measured out and Yara is such a wonderfully talented cook and teacher! Richard also showed us Brazil’s famous cocktail, the caipirinha, a drink made from Cachaça (sugar cane liquor), lime and sugar…more than a few of those and it would be Good Night.
Richard’s caipirinhas, 2013
Yara showing me how to make sauce, 2013
Yara showing Francesca the Soufflé mix, 2013
They turned out very well!
After cooking and discussing the history of Brazil and the food, we were given great wine and we all sat around the beautiful table and ate the fruits of our labor. A four-course meal that included the Soufflé, a tasty green salad, a lovely custard desert and a manioc based dish. We definitely had a wonderful time and would recommend anyone visiting Paraty to visit with Yara and Richard – they even send you the recipes afterwards. They explore different areas of Brazil – our area was Bahia state, which is in the North East and heavily influenced by Afro-Brazilian culture. We had to be extra careful on the way back to our guesthouse after all the wine we drank! Phew!
Paraty was a great and intriguing experience – we also shopped and stopped at the beach for some of our time there. Anyways, The Rio blog is next – and we spent 12 days there so better wrap this one up, as the Rio blog is gonna be jam-packed with adventure, sex motels and Carnival – so stay tuned for the sound of Samba….
Colin
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