I made the decision somewhere on the beach and I devised a plan later in the day after staring into my cup of coffee for longer than it usually takes for it to cool down.

It didn’t help predicting the future. Clearly, I should have ordered tea. I don’t master the art of reading coffee.

It’s not the best decision nor the best plan but it’s the only one I have.

Bottom line is, I should go. Now is the time.

Why now? Well, first of all, I’m getting tired. Backpacking is actually pretty intense, especially if you’re alone. Sure, there are moments where I relax on the beach under coconut tress with a book but it takes work to get there. Second, and most importantly, everything is changing and it’s changing too fast. I don’t want to push my luck.

It was “pandemic as usual” during this Brazilian winter. Many common-sense public health measures have been implemented, it’s not like anyone forgot about COVID, but I could breathe. All I wanted was to spend time outside, take pictures and write stories. I took more risks than if I had stayed home but I didn’t do anything crazy either—again, I used common sense. I have dark circles under my eyes and new white hair but arguably less than if I had spent the winter in Canada.

I first heard about new restrictions when I was in Salvador. I learned a new expression, “toque de recolher,” i.e. “curfew.” “You jinxed me with your curfew stories!” I joked with my mom. “We’re having a curfew pandemic now!”

But it didn’t affect me because I left Salvador the day it started—it was purely coincidental, by the way.

Then, in Aracaju, I learned that João Pessoa, Recife and Natal were also implementing new restrictions—curfew, closing beaches and non-essential business, etc. “Stay in Maceió,” Feng and my Brazilian contacts advised.

By then, I already knew sooner or later the state of Alagoas was also going to tighten the rules but Maceió is an “easy” city and I was comfortable, so I adopted a wait-and-see attitude. It’s not like I could fly back to Canada, anyway—remember, no planes.

Eventually, Maceió moved from the “blue stage” to the “yellow stage.” Still fine by me. We only stayed in the yellow stage for a day, though, and the “orange stage” that followed made everything more challenging. Hell, just understand the fine print was a challenge. “Is the comida a kilo still open tomorrow?” I asked. “Yes. Wait, no. Take out only. Oh, actually, during the day it’s fine, but we have to close at 8 p.m. And we also have to close from… Friday to Monday, I think.”

Even locals were lost.

Yeah, it’s time for me to go. It’s not just the small inconvenience of not being able to sit down with my coffee on weekends or the fact I have to get food earlier. It’s just that if Brazil is moving toward more restrictions it may be even harder to find a flight out of the country. And there’s a political battle underway between Bolsonaro and state governors. Things can get messy.

I feel like I’m abandoning ship but I’ve never planned to stay in Brazil.

I have to find a way back home, in Canada.

The past few days have been stressful. People are annoyed with restrictions, tired of the pandemic. I’m still here but mentally already elsewhere.

And I still don’t know how to handle what should be the final leg of the trip, coming back to Canada.

“One step at the time,” Feng advised.

I’ll try.

Wish me luck.