a buscar lo que siempre he tenido
pero nunca he querido aceptar
a buscar lo que siempre he tenido
pero nunca he sabido valorar
Booking my ticket = BOOOOOOSTA
Although using a ticket search engine like KAYAK.com, Expedia, etc is usually a good idea, it doesn't always work out the way that you want it. Decolar.com is the best search engine in Brazil, so I used to book my flight. I found cheap tickets and with good schedules so in this sense it was convenient and efficient.
Problem #1: They charge you a booking fee of R$30.
Problem #2: Doesn't accept foreign credit cards
Any airfare is also subjected to 'imposto do viajem' of R$20, but this is standard in all the different airlines. Fucking Brazilian government taxes.
Anyway, I booked my ticket but this was canceled, I was not informed until 24hrs before my flight left and that there was nothing I could do since they had turned down my foreign credit card. Fucking Brazil.
*PAUSE FOR A 5 HOUR FREAK OUT*
Anyway, in the end after calling a handful of airlines, I found a similar fare but with a shitty schedule and bought it with my friend's card. In some ways things always work out: I didn’t over-pay, and arrived only one day later. Thank you Renata.
Packing was painful: Leaving the wonderful house that had been mine for so long, choosing what to take, leave, throw away, and finding forgotten plans/letters/penas. It took me a couple days.
I regret not having a last dinner at the YH, since I would’ve had time
Left to the airport accompanied by Lonneke and Mariana, both of who left with tears in their eyes, and made me
realize how lucky I am to have met them. These are two friends that I can truly guarantee I will keep forever.
There are two options to get to Salvador from Sao Paulo:
There is a 30-hour bus or 2-hr flights from São Paulo. There are also buses to nearby cities such as Porto Seguro and Valença, these work less frequently and cost almost as much as a flight but depending on where in the country you are and the intentions of your travels, buses can offer a different perspective on the visited areas.
Once in Salvador, it is fairly easy to get around, from the airport there are buses and unlimited amount if taxis. Unfortunately the airport is in the middle of nowhere, with a 20-30 minute drive into the coastal areas, you are bound to pay R$40-80 to get out of there. Taking a night flight is usually a bad idea in Brazil since everything closes early (Fucking Brazil) and things are very far apart but for us broke people; there sometimes is no other choice so I slept in the airport with three German guys I met on the flight.
From the coast, there are 20-minute flights from Salvador to the island; there are 2-hr fast boats or a combination of bus+boat for a total of 5hrs. What will change is the price, which in some cases is 4 times as much and depending on the season the price and frequency also increases.
All in all, it was a pretty simple trip. It is just a matter of staying alert and knowing the name of the destination and there was no getting lost. BEWARE of the overly helpful Brazilians that will charge you for helping you with bags or will offer you expensive/unnecessary services. Since I was broke and not in a rush, I opted for the long, cheap and colorful way described below…
Metro: R$2.65 (30min)
Airport Express: R$3.80 (20min)
SAO to SSA: R$220 (2hr)
Bus to coast: R$3.00 (1.5hr)
Ferry boat to Itaparica (Mar Grande): R$4.50 (30min)
Small bus to Valença: R$20 (2.5hr)
Boat to Morro: R$6.70 (1.5hr)
Traveling through land, air and water = priceless
My biggest challenge was getting along with the amount of luggage I had with me. With one bag I think I would have been fine, more comfortable, would have wandered into the market/center of the city etc… but of course I needed 3 bags to bring all my stuff… my next purchase will be a badass backpack.
Salvador’s coast was beyond colorful and busy. From the airport to the port we drove all along the shoreline, endless miles of blue sea to the left, a thriving, breathing city to the right and palm trees in between ;)
Surrounded by regular morning traffic, genuine market smells, soft delicious tropical heat, following a map I made it to Mercado Modelo and took the ferryboat. It was a loud, explosive excitement that burned inside my heart when I saw the coast of Salvador become smaller and smaller behind me. Smelling the salty ocean air as the boat rocked up and down, I was finally coming to terms with my new life.
Arriving at Mar Grande, starving, exhausted and preparing myself for 4 more hours of travel, I caught a bus with the first group of tourists. To our fault, we were somewhat tricked because we didn’t know to ask the right questions:
1) Do you go straight to Valença? Right answer: YES
2) Do you make stops? Right answer: NO. Or only 1 for bathroom/snack/gas
3) Do you switch buses? Right answer: NO
Needles to say, my bus stopped at every bus stop where there was people along the high way, took some detours through small towns to drop off/pick up other people and we had to switch buses half way through. AAAAARGH! Since I half the time, I was asleep it was not a huge problem, but if I had been in any other mindset, I would have been SO pissed. At least now I know to ask the right questions.
PS. At the entrance of Morro there is R$10 tourist tax. TOURIST TAX?!?!?! FUUUUUUUUUUCKING BRAZIL
One of the most annoying things to me is being approached by sellers at all angles, at all times… I understand their plight and the culture, but I still fucking hate it. Selling anything from boat rides to earrings, these guys are persistent and have lots of experience telling you what you want to hear and selling you what you don’t need… Advertising/Marketing Majors I call them… brain so smart you could swear they went to college =P
After struggling with my bags out the boat, up the hill and down the sandy street, past all the annoying sellers and after the praça, I reach the hostel. I meet my boss, leave my bags in the room, I talk to him for a couple hours and pass the fuck out.
- - - - -
My boss, Francisco, is yet another example of how the poor help the poor.
In reality, a 16-year old boy, really is lonelier than I am, he is broker than I am and he has more baggage than I do. Why do needy people help other needy people?
My boss is a Carioca. Went to engineering school but had to drop out to work and help out his family. His mother passed away when he was very young and due to monetary problems and clashing personalities, he is not close to the rest of his family. He said that his father, sister and other relatives are more like distant friends.
He had been working at a hostel in Buzios for a while before coming to Salvador. Once there, he got into the business of starting a hostel in Barra and then 2 in Morro do Sao Paulo. I didn't have a chance to see the other hostel but the two here are somewhat nice.
The one that I am working at is called Fonta do Imperador (check out Lonely Planet) but is now working under the name 'Hostel do Morro' which according to Francisco is a better online name. It is all green (same green as the pousada in Jericoacoara) and has a weird structure (pool on the second floor, wtf?). As he admits, there are nicer and cheaper places to stay at on the island but still he does receive steady business thanks to Lonely Planet. The location I think is shitty since it is after the main plaza, after passing numerous other places, up at the end of a hidden hallway, next to a cool rasta hostel that looks very nice and it is away from the beach. It is indeed in the middle of everything else though, and since you can walk anywhere it is not such a bad deal. I am not sure what it says in the book but I now see how blindly we trust these travel guides, which will bring backpackers all the way into our reception thanks to the step-by-step description on how to get there ;)
My boss the wanderer, has been here since last December, at the time he was also working at another hostel but due to some financial problems he had to leave than one and now has been exclusively here since March. He lives in a room on the upstairs with his two cats (one black&white, one calico) and he has the same amount of things that you would have in a one-story house.
He spends most time emailing potential costumers, old friends and downloading music. The music he showed me was from a club in Ibiza that is all instrumental. He loves it, listens to it and rates them (hehehehe). Many have 2-3 stars, few have 4 and even fewer have 5 stars... his scheme, I do not know, but I do know that it takes a lot of patience to do that type of shit.
Otherwise, he rides his bike around the island, plays the frigo-ball with his crazy friends and drinks cheap vodka/smokes weed in his room. He doesn’t like working in the island anymore and is planning to move in December to São Thomé das Letras in Minas Gerais.
The first night I was here he told me about the times he loved and lost, the times he worked incessantly and the times he just chilled out at the beach or jungle, he told me about the times where he did acid, drank entire bottles of whiskey, wine and vodka, drove his motorcycle and about the awful hard year he's had lately. He separated from the woman he loved for 14 years, lost some money due to increasing competition on the island, was in a motorcycle accident and got denge… twice. (Normally, I would laugh at this… but it was pretty serious).
He mostly keeps to himself and sometimes goes on rants about things he doesn’t like and sometimes he doesn’t talk to me at all...
He has two cats: Zara (white, black and brown Calico) and Manoel (black and white). Zara is Manoel’s mom, she had 6 others but he gave them away. She is missing one eye, walks timidly around the hostel, poops in the plants and has two other cats always chasing her. Manuel is a stupid scared cat that never leaves Francisco’s room and has the saddest yellow eyes.
I know that he must be pretty lonely, I know that he is really frustrated with the way that things work on the island and I know that he wishes there was a way out. And I also know that for some reason people feel the need/feel at ease to tell meeee things, to trust meeee with their story. What is it about me that allows you to open up?? What is it about me that invites you to let down you hair and talk all night?? I am not complaining (by any means) but it happens often enough that I have to wonder…
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