Itacare

Right when the world was about to end -- the day before Harold Camping had slotted for the rapture -- Ben and I found paradise. It's in Brazil, in the Northern state of Bahia, in a small town of 20,000 called Itacare. We arrived one day before the predicted judgement day, but it didn't take long for us to wonder if we'd already died and gone to heaven. With curvacious palm trees growing in white sand, and freshwater rivers babbling down waterfalls into the crystal ocean, the place looked like a too-good-to-be-true photoshopped postcard.

We were lucky Sabrina and her friend Carol let us in on the secret of this paradise. Itacare hasn't been established as a major tourist spot, and is even off the map for most Brazilians. I'm not sure how Sabrina and Carol knew about it. But when TAM airlines was having a sale to the region, they said we MUST to go with them. They squealed when we hit the "purchase" button, like they'd just won tickets to Hawaii. Little did I know it was even better than that.

The four of us arrived to Iheus, Bahia, into a small airport. We rented a car and were soon driving out of the city, over rivers and finally along the palm-tree clad coast. After an hour 1/2 of roads that rivaled a roller coaster, we turned on the main drag (and one of the only streets) of Itacare.

Our first taste of paradise was the pousada, a Brazilian bed and breakfast, where we decided to stay. Walking through the wooden gate revealed a little Eden of its own, with lush palm trees and flowering plants draping leaves over a pool and sun chairs. Our room had a balcony with a hammock, where we could hear the chatter of tropical birds throughout the day and night. It was a fitting home base between all the beautiful beaches.

The first of the line-up of heavenly shores was Resende beach. A small path led through towering palm trees to the secluded cove. There wasn't anyone there, except one or two women laying down in the small waves to sunbath (or just look sexy). Standing on a few nearby rocks and tidepools, we had a perfect view of two other small palm-treed beaches. Without much time before the sunset, we drove back to Concha beach, about two blocks from our pousada. We took a dip in the warm ocean waters before enjoying a beer and watching the sunset from a look-out point over the sea. And that was only the first hour or two of being in Itacare.





The rest of the weekend led to one breathtaking beach after the next. We spent most of Saturday at Patizeiro beach, a seemingly endless stretch of black and white sands -- which blew over each other to create swirly patterns -- all set between the rhythmic ocean and lush jungle. The highlight of this paradise was the freshwater waterfall tucked in the corner of it all. Clean water trickled down the black rocks in a fountain more beautiful than you could ever make by hand.




While not every beach had a waterfall, there seemed to be rivers flowing at just about every one we went to. One of them had a reddish orange tint, which Ben said was dyed from the plants in the water, while another one was so deep at points you could dive in. Not only were these rivers gorgeous, but we had a blast splashing in the ocean and then floating in the freshwater.


Along with the first smallish waterfall we found, there were plenty of big ones in the area, too. Cachoeira do Tijuipe was a massive, broad fall in the jungle just near the beach. We heard the roar before we actually saw the water, but it wasn't enough to scare us from jumping in. There was a rope leading across the bottom of the falls. In certain places we had to hold on tight so we didn't wash down the rest of the river. Other parts were more calm, where we could sit on a rock right under the crashing water or jump into a deep pool.




On our second full day in Itacare, the four of us ventured on a "short" hike along a three-beach melody. But this jaunt proved to be an adventure in itself. The path lead us along a river (and a waterfall, which we later played in, of course). It then curved into a windy, narrow path along an ocean cliff. I might have been nervous by the view if I wasn't looking at my feet the whole time. Because of recent rain, the entire dirt path was turned to a muddy slip 'n' slide that had me tense with every step. I took off my sandals for better traction, but had to endure goop so deep it squished up to my ankles. Some surfers had laid palm fawns along the way, but these only added to the icky textures of the journey. It was gross -- but I loved it nonetheless. And it made the end of our hike even that much more rewarding.



About an hour later we were at a private beach. The only people there were a few surfers in the waves and a woman selling coconuts. We spent the morning and afternoon swimming, drinking from and eating coconuts and exploring.


After these long days in the sun, we relaxed at night with walks down Itacare's main drag, which was full of craft shops, restaurants and bars. We ate delicious food for next-to-nothing, and drank huge caiparinha drinks made from fresh fruit on the spot for just a few dollars. The locals didn't speak any English, but in true Bahia style everyone was so friendly and relaxed it's amazing they get any work done at all.



The only downside of our trip was that it did rain a lot. About half the day was sunny and then pouring showers. We didn't let it stop us for a second, though, and would just swim in the ocean (where we didn't care about getting wet) until the sun came out again. The weather was to be expected during the winter off-season, but it was definitely worth fairing. Because when the sky cleared, the sun lit up the amazing oceans, beaches, waterfalls and sand -- which we had all to ourselves. Our own paradise.

Samba

Like French fries and ketchup or cookies and milk, Brazil and samba go hand in hand. Yes, you can enjoy the country without it, but the gyrating dance and snappy music add the extra spice that makes it all so delicious. And Brazilians make sure there is always plenty to go around. From the samba groups taking to the streets during Carnival to the elderly couples shaking their hips on a porch, the music and its lifestyle are everywhere. Yet if samba is the blood pumping through the city, the heart beating the way is in Lapa. This Rio barrio is the hangout for all the of the city's artists, musicians, dancers, partiers and all-around interesting characters, who fuse together to create a samba explosion almost every night of the week. It's a delicacy of the country I got to experience firsthand Friday when Ben and I decided to spend the weekend in the famed neighborhood.

With Lapa about an hour and a half away from Itaipu by bus, we decided to book a hostel to fully kick back and enjoy the night. Not only did the cheap stay give us a great home-base, but it also introduced us to some other fabulous gringos to enjoy the festivities with. We met Ericka from Phoenix and Annali and Terry from New Zealand while relaxing by the pool, and quickly made plans to spend the night hitting the streets together. As with every calm before the storm, the night started off quietly with pizza and beer at a downtown boteco (the inexpensive neighborhood bars you can find on nearly any corner in Brazil). After dinner we found ourselves at Lapa's Friday night street fair, filled with beer and meat vendors galore. By now the streets that were hushed only hours ago were raging with people of all ages, colors and styles. The roads were closed to cars, letting everyone meander, with drinks in hand, to surrounding bars or simply to others socializing in the street.

The street fair under the arches

It was outside the famed Boa Bar that we found our first samba experience. The corner bar had its ceiling-to-floor windows open all the way, where passersby could stop and enjoy the live music without paying to go inside. Being the budget travelers we are, we grabbed a spot within earshot of the band, bought a cheap bucket of ice and beer and were swept into the samba scene. Next to us, two girls in their 20s danced with a bald guy in his 50s. These odd pairs kept popping up all around. With samba, it doesn't seem to matter your age or creed -- but instead just how quickly you can move your hips and feet.

The music has a fast but steady tempo that people seem to try and hit note-for-note with their bodies. One foot taps forward and back around with the other quickly following suit. It almost looks like the dancer is trying to smooch an oncoming army of ants, but all with a rhythm that flows up swiveling hips to a smiling face.

After the band finished its set, our group left the bar to fill up on beer. There, under the city's famous white arches, we ran into an impromptu samba performance. It was just a few men and their drums, but the sounds lassoed a few hips into swinging right there in the street. That's when one of these dancing passersby, a short middle-aged Brazilian, grabbed my hand and pulled me into the mix. I didn't even have time to hand off my camera or beer before he was swirling me in circles and showing me how to move my feet. I tried my best to mimic his ever-changing moves. I've never had much coordination, so I can't imagine I was very good. But my dance partner didn't care, so I didn't either. Before I knew it, another gentleman came over to grab my hand and show off his samba swivel. Moments later a woman from the growing audience threw her husband her purse and sent her feet into a frenzy faster than any I'd seen that night. The music spread like an intoxicating cloud that soon had everyone literally dancing in the streets.

Above: Our samba guys just getting started.
Below: What their following grew to later that night.

We finally needed a break to cool down, and Ben, the gringas and I were pointed toward a side street we hadn't yet explored. Here we found a whole extension of the nightlife that seemed tucked away like a secret only the most locals of locals would know about. The narrow street had cobblestone under foot and strings of flags overhead. To our sides were shabby Victorian homes, colorful graffiti and street art. It was all lined with a market of vendors selling drinks, people playing music and everyone living life in the moment.


Weaving our way through the stream of partiers, we found a site I'd hoped to see during the day: the Escadaria Selaron. This steep staircase is a colorful mosaic work of art. But that night, all we could see were the faces of people decorating the steps all the way to the top. Our group found a perch on a tiered planter by the side of the staircase. We sat there for hours watching this crazy ocean of people flow below us. A steady beat of live samba was played from somewhere in the crowd the entire time. None of us could believe where we were at that moment in our lives. Not only did we find ourselves in Brazil, but among this scene we couldn't have imagined if we'd tried. It's nights like that that spark the dreams of travel in the first place.

Our perch on top of the world

Gardens

On Saturday Ben and I took to the city once again, this time exploring a few "gardens": Parque Lage and Jardim Botanico. Unlike the delicate names imply, these parks proved to be less about manicured rose bushes and trimmed hedges and instead more about exotic vines and towering palm trees. But here in Rio, I'm learning not to ever expect less than extraordinary.

We started at the Jardim Botanico, in the Rio neighborhood of the same name. It was only R$5 to get in (about $3.50 US), but opened up a world of winding paths through 5,000 species of flora and fauna. Right away we were greeted by a pond of turtles. They looked like the pet turtles I had growing up, but these must have eaten a Mario mushroom or something because they were seriously double the size. A few steps inside the park, we found a gorgeous natural waterfall cutting its way through surrounding bushes, trees, vines and flowers. All this within only a few feet of the entrance.

It took us a few hours to trek the entire park, not only because of its size, but because there was so much that made us stop and stare. A stone mill from the 1500s, an orchid greenhouse, strange hanging flowers, thorny plants and lilie pads so big I could have literally sat upon them (seriously, I was temped to try), were all part of the park. The highlight was a long pathway lined with 200-year-old palm trees, planted in 1808. These trees didn't show their age, with beautiful fronds high overhead. They must have been at least 100 feet tall, no joke. And each one lined the way to a huge antique fountain in the center of the park. If Europe and the jungle had a baby, it would look like that.

Along our travels through Jardim Botanico, a few people we met (all of whom were Brazilian but spoke awesome English) pointed us toward the Parque Lage -- a nearby garden that was much more "rustic" than this one. More rustic? We had to check it out. After an hour-long trek up the avenue (yes, we were too cheap to take the bus), we reached the unimpressive gates of the park. It had a long cobblestone driveway without much fanfare, all leading to an old pink house. Nice, but not what we were expecting. It wasn't until we sat down to catch our breath that we spotted a few pathways leading off into the surrounding trees. We picked one and just started walking.

To describe the park as "rustic" is an understatement. It was pretty much just an untouched jungle with narrow paths snaking through. Oh, and the previous owners (it was a mansion and estate for a century or so before being donated to the city), decided to have some fun with the place and created all these hidden forts and stone caves along the way. We seriously felt like children frolicking around the moss-covered stones and swinging on vines hanging from the trees.

The labyrinth of trails turned more treacherous as we started hiking up a mountain. We later realized this was Corcovado mountain, and just above the layer of clouds was Christo himself (the giant Jesus statue) sitting on top. Wearing a dress and flip flops, I decided not to attempt the trail that day -- although Ben and I have definite plans to give it a go soon. Instead we sat by waterfalls, chased a butterfly that was as big as a record and watched dozens of monkeys jump from tree to tree. The entire time we couldn't stop saying "This is the coolest place EVER!". We're definitely gong back soon.