Four Days in Petrópolis, the Eerie and Cloudy Imperial City

I stopped in Petrópolis with fairly low expectations—no beach, cold and rainy weather, mountains, Brazilian history, not necessarily my kind of place.

And now I’m kind of in love with it.

The imperial city exceeded my expectations and showed me yet another side of Brazil, a country where each city feels like a different world.

So first, the weather. Petrópolis seems to be always cloudy and prone to sudden downpours, São Paulo-style. Luckily, they didn’t last—five minutes of rain and done, I didn’t even get soaked once. And much to my surprise, it wasn’t cold at all! The temperature was lower (like, 25 °C instead of 40 °C) and the air was drier but it’s still tropical.

Indeed, from afar, Petrópolis could look like a Swiss village. But it doesn’t take long to realize it’s still a subtropical Brazilian city with crazy trees and flowers growing everywhere, occasionally completely covering classic colonial buildings—Ah, you thought you could recreate Europe in South America? Good luck!

With 19th-century mansions, a Portuguese emperor’s summer palace, an Austrian writer’s last residence, the house of a Brazilian inventor and aeronaut, and one of the oldest German communities in Brazil, among other highlights, Petrópolis is a small town with stories to tell.

I spent the last four days walking along the canals and stepping into houses turned into museums, many of them free or charging a cheap entry fee (the average was 10 reais, $2).

I started with the house of Stefan Zweig—I love The Royal Game—where he committed suicide in 1942. Then I explored the house of Santos Dumont, a national hero and aviation pioneer. I spent a couple of hours exploring the Imperial Museum and marvelling at the Emperor’s crown and the plume Princess Isabel used to sign the Lei Áurea abolishing slavery in 1888—no pictures allowed inside the palace and mandatory slippers to avoid damaging the 19th-century wooden floor, else royal ghosts will haunt you (okay, I made up the last part).

I walked up and down Rua Teresa, a street inexplicably home to dozens of clothing shops. I had countless cups of cafezinho sitting under trees taller than a house in one of the many public squares. I walked up the hill to the Throne of Fátima for the best views of Petrópolis. I slept like a baby—the darkness and colder weather, probably.

I hadn’t realized it but it was exactly the transition I needed after Carnival and two months on the road.

It’s the atmosphere I liked best and it’s hard to describe.

Petrópolis was relaxing. Unlike in Rio de Janeiro, only an hour away, nobody seemed to be scared or stressed out. The streets were clean, the people were friendly and the food was cheap—another world, I’m telling you. And after sunset, with empty streets, wet cobblestones glowing under the moonlight, the city looked both mysterious and eerie.

I’m leaving rested and quite fascinated by this small place with so much history.

Now, yet another new city for me, another challenge, and a long bus trip ahead!

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