Date of Entry:  May 6th to 8th 2016

Date of Writing:  August 10th,  Sao Paulo,  Brazil

After a long and hellish border crossing and about 24 hours spent between buses and waiting, several changes, and lots of fatigue Lydia and I feel incredibly thrilled to arrive in Florianapolis bus station, and,exhausted and frustrated as we are, we decide to pay for a taxi to the small town of Barra Do Lagoa outside of the main city of Florianapolis and right on the beach.

We have very few Brazilian Reals to our name after using my leftovers from iguazu visits back in december to buy lunch and the bus from porto Alegre to Florianapolis but with some immensely broken portuguese we manage to get the driver to stop by an HSBC (one of the few banks that doesn’t charge me a withdrawal fee here in Brazil as well as Bradesco).  Money in hand we hop back in the comfy cab and ignore the priceyness of it.  (More than 50 reals and I think close to 100).  After a scenic drive through many small towns we arrive in Barra do Lagoa and after some initial difficulty our driver finds our home for the next three days:  The Search House Hostel.

We’re welcomed warmly by the English speaking staff and checked in quickly to what is one of the nicest dorms I have ever stayed in.  A loft with no bunk beds, and beds so big and comfy they feel like heaven.  It’s night and we’re tired so after a quick walk through town we head back and have a delicious burger at the bar of the hostel and head to bed, leaving the beach just outside the hostel’s back door for the sunlight of the morrow.

Unfortunately we don’t really get much sunlight but we do have a very pleasant day walking along the beautiful beach where surfing and other board sports is prohibited to allow the local fisherman go to work.  It’s a day of strolling on the beach, chatting, finding sand dollars and watching some of the locals before heading to the next town over Lagoa de Conceicao to a nice cafe to catch up on some online stuff since both of us are blogging but after this post I’ll officially be ahead of Lydia who has abandoned her’s so close to the finish line.  Okay I’m also very behind but I vow I will catch up since I’ve hd some incredible adventures across brazil in the last 2.5 months.  Despite the less than great weather and the chill in the air, we end up having a pretty awesome day.  And I buy stuff for pancakes for the next morning which is always exciting.

After an amazing sleep and some delicious late morning pancakes we make a decision to take advantage of the improving weather and head out for a hike on the other side of the island.  We head to Armacao or at least we try to ending up on three different buses before we finally reach our destination a charming little town.  I have to say there seem to be a lot of these towns on the island.

With some helpful directions from a few locals we find our way out to the edge of town and over a bridge crossing a pretty river flowing into the ocean we otherwise would have had to wade through before starting up a thickly forested trail towards our goal for the day  Lagoinha Leste beach which is only accessible through hiking. Unfortunately it took us a lot longer than we expected to get here and time is already running short.  Still we take a moment to turn and look back towards the town from a break in the dense atlantic rain forest the blankets this part of Brazil.

Before we get to the main part of the 90 minute ish trail we have to cross one more very beautiful beach and despite the chilly wind I can feel the icy waters of the atlantic calling to me,but I stay strong and ignore the call crossing the beach with Lydia and promising myself a swim on the way back.  Were starting to talk about more serious things like religion, love, and fears and conversations like that can be a bit hard to come buy when you’re constantly travelling as they generally require a certain level of trust that can be tough to build in a short time.

On the other side of the beach we scramble up a small trail following the instructions given to us by our hostel receptionist and forking right when we are presented the option, following a muddy and steep path up though the jungle. In the thick green undergrowth, mostly sheltered from the wind and always climbing upward the relative cool suddenly seems hot and soon enough my brow is covered in sweat.  Still , despite both being out of breath we never really stop talking, learning more and more about each other and becoming even better friends.  One of the great joys of travel is becoming very close with people you re sure you’d never have met if you hadn’t packed up and left home.

Eventually we reach the top of the trail, more out of breath than I’d like to admit and we are instantly rewarded with stunning views of the smothered green cliffs of the southern Brazilian coastline contrasting perfectly with the vivid hues of blue of both the ocean and the sky.  We have just a few moments to appreciate it coupled with the welcome coolness of the renewed wind blowing in our faces, we’re beginning to lose light and that trail down would not be fun in the dark, and we’ve still got a beach to get to, even if we’re pretty sure we won’t have time to actually go to it, we at least want to view from above what was worth the three buses and lots of wasted transit time.  If you’re coming to florianapolis and can afford to rent a car do it, I feel like that would be the best way to say all the hidden gems of this incredible island paradise.

About 15 hurried minutes later we’ve passed a university freshman class who look like kids to me (I guess I’m starting to get old, a fact which travel mercifully helps me too forget) and been told we should be able to make it to the mirador if we hurry.  So after a second to gather our breaths we do just that still talking away about anything and everything as we climb up through open grasslands dotted with rocks until we crest the final hill and look down on perfection.

Looking back I really wish we’d had time to go down to the beach.  Either that or a tent and food. (Wow I miss Torres Del Paine and Patagonia in general)   The perfect crescent of golden sand below us, backed by the lush green forest,and caressed by the amazing blue green waters of the atlantic looks like paradise, but were out of time and so we have to settle for some truly amazing panoramic views of this stunningly beautiful place.  As we talk and snap photos of each other including lots of paint me jacks I find myself thinking that if the rest of Brazil is this beautiful I’m going to very much enjoy my time in South America’s biggest country.

The sun fading low in the sky we head back in a rush as the blue above us turns to beautiful glowing gold.  We head down through the forest not shutting up for a second and learning a lot about each other before reemerging on the beautiful beach and deciding that since we’re done with the tougher parts of the trail we can afford some time to swim, even if it is a bit cold.  We both strip down to our bathing suits (my boxers and jump in to the water revelling in the cold crisp awakening energy it brings.

That done we head back to town and decide it’s not worth three buses and so with the help of some more friendly locals running a small restaurant we manage to get a taxi called, heading into Lagoa de Conceicao to find some dinner.  Through some strange twist of fate we end up sharing the taxi with an Irish man in brazil for many years for jungle medical treatments (hallucinogenic drugs mostly)  for a health condition he won’t disclose to us.  At first his stories are amusing, but when he starts assuring us the holocaust never happened and it’s all an unfair conspiracy to make germany look bad, apologizing repeatedly to Lydia the ride get’s a bit awkward and we’re happy to go our separate ways.

Lydia and I find an awesome little village of food trucks and get some super tasty mexican food and churros for dessert before I search for a place to buy our bus tickets to Iguazu for tomorrow night.  (That’s right I’m going back again.)

That done we head back to the search house only to find out we’ll be heading back out to Lagoa de Conceicao again for a night of clubbing, which is far from my favourite thing but I figure it’s good to try everything every now and then, and brazil is famous for it’s parties.  We join some friendly potheads from our hostel who also appreciate acid and head to the club but really the music is awful and no one is really dancing so before long Lydia and I are walking through the empty streets looking for another bar or a taxi to take us back, me regretting the 50 Real (20 CAD)  cover charge.  Oh well.

We find a taxi before another bar and head back to Barra de Lagoa where we take a midnight walk on the beach and end up both going swimming separately for modesty’s sake in the rolling waves.  The stars are mostly masked by clouds and it’s quite dark but the feeling of the waves crashing over me in the inky blackness of the night is beyond intoxicating. Eventually salty and exhausted we head back to the hostel and collapse into the comfy beds for the night.

The next day is spent chilling, writing and walking on the beautiful beach right in our backyard before grabbing an infuriatingly slow local bus back to the big city and barely making our night bus to Iguazu, which is sure to provide three more days of great adventures with Lydia.