I recovered from the 4WD dunes experience for a day, then I signed up for another “passeio” in Natal—the classic “Pipa Beach.”
In another life, I would hate exploring places with a group.
In Brazil, I love it. Brazilians are fun, friendly and easy-going. I mean, absolutely not when they are behind the wheel but totally when they’re going to the beach.
“What time is your flight back to São Paulo tomorrow?” I asked the Paulista sitting next to me in the van.
“I’m going to the airport at 9 p.m.”
Better than the two Cariocas behind us who were flying back to Rio de Janeiro at midnight tonight, considering we would be back after sunset.
“Ah, it’s good,” I said. “You can relax tonight and pack tomorrow.”
“No, no, no! Tomorrow morning, I’m taking my coffee on the beach at 5 a.m. and I’ll stay there until 8 a.m. I took a 15-day holiday, I’m using all the time I have.”
He may or may not have added “God dammit”, I’m not fluent in Brazilian interjections, but that was the spirit.
I admire the spirit.
I would never do that. It takes me a few hours to pack my life and put it back into my backpack.
It was only 8 a.m. but it was already 30°C. I thought about Mark, on his way to school, -25°C in Ottawa. Why not cancel winter altogether up north? What’s the point of suffering, unless you truly love snow and below-zero temperatures?
Mind you, I had the feeling it was to feel about as cold in the van in a few minutes with the air con, even though all of us would get goosebumps—unlike Canadians, Brazilians do feel the cold.
Today’s “passeio” was taking us to Pipa Beach but we weren’t going straight to Pipa. We were going to stop many times along the way, along the coast, to enjoy the best beaches, lagoons and more.
Fine by me, I wasn’t in a rush to get to Pipa. Pipa is a world-famous surfer destination, a cross between Itacaré and Parati, one of these places where you can find old foreign hippies who came to the small villages decades ago and somehow made a living selling handmade jewellery (and probably hash). Don’t get me wrong, I like the town, but it also gets on my nerves with so, so many shops selling surf-themed t-shirts and a “holier-than-thou” atmosphere.
The first stop was a boat trip to a small strip of sand in the middle of the ocean. There were more tables, coolers, and chairs than sand. “Sand? You must have shrimp and beer,” is the unofficial motto of coastal Brazil.
Once back on the sand, the Brazilians ordered a Brazilian lunch. I went for a long, long walk on the long, long beach, so I can’t tell you what it was, but I’m guessing more shrimp and beer or fish and beer.
We got back on the bus, stopped on top of the cliff overlooking the Praia de Cacimbinhas, then arrived in Pipa around 2 p.m.
I walked to the Praia do Amor, a nice spot to swim, and I skipped most of the Instagramesque streets.
It took us two hours to drive back to Natal and I fell asleep on the bus—just as well, my other day starts at sunset with work, Feng, and Mark’s homework.
