The first thing I saw was the Morro de São Paulo lighthouse perched on top of the hill.

I stepped off the boat into a new world where the “taxis” were a bunch of guys with old-fashioned wheelbarrows. “No, thank you,” I declined as other passengers were loading suitcases into the wheelbarrows.

The pier was flat, obviously, but the climb started as soon as I walked under the Arco de Chegada.

I took a deep breath. I didn’t know what to expect from the Morro except this—it was going to be a long climb up to the main square, and then up the street, and up to my Airbnb located somewhere on the Escadaria da mangaba, and “escadaria” means “stairs”.

I just didn’t know yet that there was another flight of stairs from the stairs to the apartment, and then obviously since it was a two-storey house, yet another flight of stairs from the living room/kitchen to the bedroom.

And this is the first thing I learned about the Morro—you go up and down all the time and you’d better get used to it.

It’s more jungle than town

The streets aren’t paved and there are no cars. Except for the two of three main streets, it’s very jungle-ish with trees taller than buildings and leaves bigger than a baby.

Doors and windows stay wide open—or in my case, the windows downstairs have no glass. There aren’t too many cockroaches and mosquitoes but expect to live with ants, butterflies, giant unidentified insects and more.

You may end of off the grid

Both Vivo and Tim stopped working last Wednesday for about 24 hours. Sometimes Internet works, sometimes it doesn’t.

Mind you, I think I know why…

Wheelbarrows are a transportation mode

There are no cars so there are no taxis. The local Uber is a wheelbarrow.

People carry crazy stuff in wheelbarrows, from luggage to TVs. It’s not uncommon for wheelbarrows to be used as strollers are well.

Food is expensive and often sold from carts

There are no supermarkets per se, just slightly-bigger-than-convenience-stores “mercados.” Selection is very limited and food is twice the regular price.

I’ve been cooking eggs all week because if you want some fish, you have to go to someone’s house and ask what the fisherman (usually the husband) brought in today (in my case, tiny sardines, couldn’t do much with them). As for meat, it’s… well, for people who really crave it and can cook it because frozen meat is expensive and the local butcher/convenience store mostly sells “weird” cuts.

On the plus side, “mercados” close very late, around midnight for most of them.

I found that street vendors offer the best food and prices. I bought all my desserts from random dudes pushing carts full of delicious cakes, coffee and more—better than the $R15 brownie from the coffee shop.

The bottom line is, I’m glad I brought some non-perishable food with me from Salvador because I don’t know how to cook a meal with pineapple and coconuts as the main ingredients.

The pier matters (and the “airport” is on the beach)

The pier is the link to the outside world with boats coming from Salvador, Valença and more. Taxi boats are also useful to go to other parts of the island.

You can also technically fly from Salvador—the airport is literally on the beach, must be a fun landing.

You can just live in your swimsuit

There’s absolutely no point in wearing shorts and a T-shirt or God forbid something warm. It’s hot, very hot, and I’ve been spending my time wearing my swimsuit, taking showers and changing into another swimsuit. If you’re feeling fancy, a “saia da praia” (beach cover) will do, usually a wrap skirt. As for shoes, it’s Havaianas or barefoot.

It’s remarkably chill

The Morro has to be one of the safest places in Latin America. My Airbnb host told me I could walk around everywhere day or night and she was right. In any other city, I probably wouldn’t wander around the neighbourhood I live in—think narrow streets, no light, etc.—but here it’s just fine. Same for the beach, even at night.

Unlike in many islands (e.g. the Caribbean), there’s no divide between the “tourist area” and the “local area”. Sure, the closer you are to the beach, the more pousadas and tourists there are but it’s completely fine to go shop where the locals go, up in the hills.

It’s bigger than it seems

The town itself is small but you don’t feel trapped because you can walk for hours along the beach. And even though distances may look short on the map, remember that you’re constantly going up and down in Bahia heat… so yeah, the 400-metre walk from the pier to my Airbnb took me a good 25 minutes.

You can get free skincare

There’s a town called Gamboa you can reach on foot at low tide from the Morro. You just have to walk along the coast and on the way, there’s a clay cliff (wall? Hill?), the Paredâo de Argila. Stop, cover yourself with clay full of great medicinal properties. By the time you reach Gamboa beach, it will have dried—rinse in the sea and enjoy smooth skin!

The beaches are gorgeous

The beaches are gorgeous and the water is super hot, 29 °C. There’s the tiny primeira praia, the busy Segunda praia, the picturesque Terceira praia and the endless Quarta praia—I have yet to reach Quinta praia, kilometres further.