I knew this last part of the trip would be challenging—small cities, jungle-ish topography, and rainy days. But the sun was shining when I arrived in Ubatuba, nicknamed “Uba-chuva” (“chuva” means “rain”).

“No, not raining!” I assured my Brazilian friend. “Beautiful day! Blue sky! Beach weather!”

Giant black clouds came from the hills two days later. There was a big thunderstorm on Saturday night, the kind that shakes buildings. “Let me just make sure all the windows are closed,” I shouted to Feng over Skype. “I’M NOT SCARED, I’M JUST… CONCERNED!”

It poured all night and it would be raining for two days according to multiple weather forecast websites. Caramba.

It wasn’t too bad the next morning. I mean, I’m from Nantes, I can handle rain; plus it was still hot even though the temperature had dropped to 25⁰C instead of 35⁰C. Which shoes should I take? I hesitated. I have a pair of leather sandals, Havaianas and hiking shoes. Hiking shoes, I decided. Probably too muddy for sandals and too slippery for Havaianas.

I left the building and turned left to take BR-101, the highway just a few metres away. It’s walkable along the shoulder along this stretch and it’s a shortcut to the closest bakery. “Wow, this backyard is really flooded,” I noted innocently.

Traffic was bumper-to-bumper—rainy Sunday, everybody was driving back to Rio de Janeiro, São Paulo or to one of the millions of cities in either state.

It’s only when I arrived at the bakery I realized it wasn’t just a flooded backyard. All streets were flooded, like properly flooded. Drivers who had parked on the street were desperately trying to jump-start their car, pedestrians were desperately trying to find the least flooded street and here I was, wondering where to go and how.

The waterfront was the obvious option, water flows down. Still, I had to find a street where I wouldn’t have water up to my knees. It was like a maze—all good, all good… nope, flooded, let’s turn around and try this street… oh, fuck no, how about this one?

The main avenue along the waterfront wasn’t flooded but my walk was getting very unpleasant because I was soaked. I ended up tying a plastic bag on my hair, a very classy moment. I headed to the nearest comida a kilo, grabbed some grilled fish and headed back to the apartment.

I cooked, called my mum, did laundry and waited for the rain to stop. I hate being stuck inside.

It did stop long enough in the evening for another walk, and then it was cloudy but not as raining the following day, on my birthday. Phew. Believe it or not, this is not the rainy season…