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. I had seen pictures, it looked modern with skyscrapers along the beach. Except that it was proving difficult to find a decent Airbnb in Caraguatatuba. Feng and I spent hours on Skype checking out options. Either there was no Wi-Fi, either the layout was baffling, either there was a key feature missing, either it was completely out of my price range.
“You know what, come to think of it, I think I was considering going to Caraguatatuba two years ago when I was in Santos, and I gave up because I couldn’t find a place. I guess it’s not meant to be. It’s not that special, I’m not paying a premium or making sacrifices to explore Caraguatatuba. I’ll go to São Sebastião directly.”
Ah, ah. “Directly.”
I’m following the Rio-Santos BR-101, the highway between Rio de Janeiro and São Paulo. I mean, I follow it quite literally—it crosses cities and I even walk along the shoulder to explore beaches or just go to the supermarket (on non-creepy stretches). So I really didn’t think taking a bus from point A to point B was going to be tricky, especially between Ubatuba and São Sebastião, two tourist spots in Brazil only 50 kilometers apart.
But when I tried to buy my ticket, Clickbus assured me there was no bus from Ubatuba to São Sebastião.
“I’ll go to the bus terminal and sort it out tomorrow,” I told Feng. “Must be a glitch.”
It wasn’t. There was no direct bus, I had to connect in “Caraguá.” Not a waste of time, mind you, since I discovered the handy nickname to avoid typing and pronouncing “Caraguatatuba.”
“And Caraguatatuba is on the table again!” Feng laughed. “Let me see… I’m sure I can find a hotel room at least…”
“I DON’T WANT TO GO TO FUCKING CARAGUÁ! Sorry, Feng, it’s not you. I just… don’t see the point. Look, if I catch the 11:30 a.m. bus, I should get to Caraguá at 1 p.m. Then there’s a 3:20 p.m. bus to São Sebastião, arriving at 4:20 p.m. Okay, locals all told me buses are late and stop everywhere but I should make it… before midnight.”
“You’re still spending time in Cara-something,” Feng pointed out.
“But not a night in an overpriced Airbnb.”
My Airbnb host in Ubatuba offered a lift to the bus terminal. We had gone through the whole politeness routine when I arrived in Ubatuba—“I’ll pick you up at the terminal!” “No, I’ll be fine, thank you!” “I insist, it’s such a short ride for me,” “Really, I’m used to travelling alone,” “But it makes life easier,” etc. I accepted eventually. This time, I didn’t attempt to decline, I gratefully said “yes”—I haven’t seen a single taxi in Ubatuba and I couldn’t even get an Uber ride, so I had no plan B.
The bus was on time and it was mostly empty. It arrived in Caraguá right on time as well.
Okay, two and half hour to wait.
Unless… unless there’s another way to get to São Sebastião.
“Local bus,” a helpful teen explained. “Stops everywhere but there should be one soon.”
Hell, yeah!
At 1:20 p.m. I boarded a local bus, losing the ticket I had bought but it was only about $3 and I’m sure I would have spent just as much in coffee during the long wait.
Bonus, I realized the bus was going to stop a block from my Airbnb on the way to the station.
“How did you know?” Feng asked.
“I followed the trip on Google Maps,” I admitted.
And so I arrived in São Sebastião three hours earlier than planned.
I was quite proud of myself.
