What can you do on a Sunday in Salvador?
Well, let’s start by what you shouldn’t do. There’s only one rule but it’s a major one—you shouldn’t go through business or shopping districts. It’s Sunday, everything is closed and you don’t want to take empty streets.
My favourite walk in Salvador, from the Barra lighthouse to the charming historic “Pelô” centre of Salvador, takes me through an endless busy street packed with clothing stores and Acarajé vendors. But today, they’re all at church or relaxing in front of the TV and Avenida Sete de Setembro is empty, so not a good idea.
I could go to the beach like Brazilians do on weekends but downtown beaches aren’t great in Salvador. They are picturesque but tiny and fairly dirty.
Fine. I’ll follow Avenida Oceânica along the coastline towards Rio Vermelho. Should be lively enough with beach bums just meters away on the sand.
Access is kind of restricted at Barra’s two iconic beaches, Praia do Farol da Barra and Praia do Porto da Barra. I’m not sure of the rules because I’ve definitely seen people on the beach but I think they are closed on weekends and at high tide—fair enough, like I said, they are tiny and get very crowded.
The lighthouse was open though and people were relaxing on the grassy slopes or sitting on the rocks. Same scenario under coconut trees a bit further at the Morro do Cristo.
I walked past beaches, favelas, the mysterious Piedra da Sereia—a weird pyramid-shaped rock… on a rock—and I finally arrived in the somewhat hip neighbourhood of Rio Vermelho. This is when I remembered there was a place I’ve always wanted to see—the “Casa de Yemanjá,” as in “Yemanjá,” the goddess of the sea in the Candomblé religion.
It was just a small house behind fishermen’s boats and on the left side of a church, Paróquia de Sant’Ana do Rio Vermelho.
I hesitated for a second.
“Go ahead,” a couple of Brazilian girls told me. “It’s open, step inside!”
I put my t-shirt back on just out of respect.
The dominant colour was blue but except for that, it reminded me of a small Buddhist temple. I wasn’t facing a gold Buddha, though, but many mermaids, most of them wearing a long light-blue dress. Offerings were a mix of crystalline beads, flowers and fruits.
I bought a candle and lit it. I have a thing for Yemanjá. Hey, considering how depressing the world is right now, it doesn’t hurt to leave an offering.
I walked back to Barra blinded by the sun and I got to the Farol right when the light was just magic.
Not bad for a Sunday.
