My last Paulista moment was the insane rush-hour traffic all the way to the international airport in Guarulhos.
My last Paulista moment was the insane rush-hour traffic all the way to the international airport in Guarulhos.
São Paulo has to be the best city on earth for urban exploration. It’s endless, it’s bustling with energy, it never really sleeps, it’s surprising and heartwarming.
The world started falling apart during my one-and-only stay in Santos two years ago. I can assure you both events are, however, completely unrelated.
Is it the calm before the storm or after the storm? I never know. Well, now I’ll remember.
I signed up for Ilhabela after reading all the fine print. I don’t mind getting out of my comfort zone, especially for just a few days, especially at the end of a trip, when it’s on the way.
I didn’t have much info on Ilhabela. It’s an island, a big one, a popular one in São Paulo state. I figured I’d spend four days exploring it, why not, it was on the way.
São Sebastião felt cozier and less wild than last-frontier-Ubatuba, a very subjective statement considering I lived with ants and lizards and there were giant sea turtles swimming between piers.
My next stop should have been Caraguatatuba, and not just because it’s etymologically close to Ubatuba—it’s literally the next city on the Rio-Santos highway.
Ubatuba wasn’t what I expected, and for that, it was worth it.
Turning 39 in Ubatuba wasn’t on my bucket list but I suppose I had to turn 39 somewhere and I knew it wouldn’t be in Canada when I changed my return date.
I knew this last part of the trip would be challenging—small cities, jungle-ish topography and rainy days.
I should have been boarding my flight back to Canada at São Paulo’s GRU Airport today. Instead, I’m in Paraty’s bus terminal waiting for my bus to Ubatuba.
It was raining again the next morning and my sandals were still wet. I hesitated for a second—should I go to Trinidade as planned?
I took way too many pictures, ate the best brownie I’ve ever had, walked everywhere and got soaked a few times.
I’m not sure what year is this… but I’m pretty sure I’m in Paraty.
I have to spend another couple of days in Rio de Janeiro. There’s no way around it coming from Cabo Frio. I know, no one is feeling sorry for me.
The world is in turmoil and I’m hanging out at the beach. I couldn’t be more off topic… oh, wait, I was reporting on the 2020 São Paulo Carnival when lockdowns started in Europe.
I should be rushing to São Paulo to take yet another mandatory COVID test and catch my flight back to Canada. I guess I’m not, not yet at least.
White sand, clear water and a single powerful wave hitting the beach every few minutes.
Búzios is posh—blame the French for that, or rather a French actress you’ve probably heard about, Brigitte Bardot.
