I wake with a start, look through the curtains and see a thin streak of blue sky. Perhaps a sunrise is imminent? I leap out of bed, throw on some clothes and head to the beach with my camera gear. It looks promising as the sky is starting to turn orange where the sun is coming up over a small island. The water is like glass with small ripples where it strikes the shore.
An elderly gentleman with a large straw hat grasps a net and poises it just above the water, before plunging it in to pluck a small crab from the sandy bottom. He paces the shallow waters repeating the process. I take a peek in his bucket and there’s several crabs and a few small prawns.
An ibis positions itself on the bow of a small boat, almost posing for the camera, elongating his neck with his beak at a jaunty angle. He flies to a boat closer to shore, teasing me as to how close he’ll allow me to get.
Several early morning athletes jog the shoreline working up a sweat. A group of six are putting an outrigger canoe into the water, readying themselves for a paddle. A man is sitting in the sand near the shore plucking prawns from seaweed to add to his growing pile beside him. The miniature fish he tosses to the ibis. I point my camera at him and give the thumbs up gesture and he gives me a big smile. Click!
I see two men carrying a large net mounted on sticks enter the water up to their chests. They stretch the net out between them and drag it through the shallow water. Fifteen minutes later they come to shore and empty the net of its catch. Crabs, prawns and small fish are dumped onto the sand and combed through. One of the men owns a beachside bar and will serve customers the seafood at lunch.
I slowly make my way down the beach, soaking in the sun’s rays. It’s my last day and Brazil has outdone herself with a beautiful morning and I want to take advantage before my long journey home. I return to my Pousada for breakfast and packing up the remainder of my belongings.
My driver, Pablo, arrives and we set off on the 4.5 hour journey to the airport in São Paulo. It’s going to be over twenty-four hours of traveling in order to reach home. We drive through dense rainforest and dark storm clouds are forming. Not fifteen minutes later the skies open and raindrops are pounding the windshield, and then abruptly stops.
We start to ascend a mountain comprised of endless steep switchbacks and when the car turns to the right, all I see is a wall of pavement. The temperature has dropped and the windshield is so fogged up I can barely see the road. Pablo has set the wrong setting on the dash to clear the fog and I try to explain it needs to be on front defrost. He doesn’t seem to trust my judgement until I press the button and the windshield instantly clears. The only problem is as soon as it clears he changes the settings back to air blowing at our feet. Twenty seconds later we can’t see out the windshield again. He presses the front defrost just long enough to defog the windshield and then back to blowing at our feet. This continues for the next 8km. I don’t understand why he keeps changing it but I give up and let him play with the buttons instead of actually paying attention to the road🙄
As we reach the other side of the mountain the skies begin to clear and the landscape has completely changed from rainforest to fenced farmland. Cows are grazing in the fields and farm houses dot the countryside. Sugarcane and hay are waving in the breeze. I’m suddenly ripped out of my reverie as Pablo has seemingly aimed the vehicle directly for the largest and deepest pothole on the road and I’m afraid that we’ve either left the transmission behind or have blown the front tire.
“Jesus! What happened?”
Pablo shrugs, “It’s Brazil.”
I hope Ricardo’s car makes it back to Paraty in the same shape it left in, but I’m not betting on it. Once we reach the highway, Pablo hits the gas and we’re flying along at 130 km/hr. He stays in the outside lane and flashes his lights at the vehicles ahead of us as he roars within a foot of their bumper. Some move over right away, but one guy ignores Pablo’s repeated flashing and stays the course. Pablo could pass in the other lane but seems resolute in staying in his lane. He finally realizes the driver is not going to move and he veers to the other lane, narrowly missing the car’s rear bumper. We race past and Pablo imitates shooting a gun and shakes his head. For f*$k sake Pablo, do NOT pretend to shoot at the other bloody driver!! Who knows who they are!! He could be some cartel dude from a local favela and actually have a gun! Not two minutes later, the same car races past us within a foot of my door, edging into our lane. This is normal passing procedure in Brazil so it doesn’t alarm me…too much. I tell Pablo just to let the guy go as he now just seems to be driving like an asshole and trying to irritate Pablo.
We arrive at the airport, thank Christ, and I quickly hop out of the car. I thank Pablo for the interesting drive and wish him a safe journey home. I’m off to catch my flight.
