The first step of the final steps invariably starts with a sigh, as I dig around for my one pair of jeans in my backpack. I have to dig deep—this is the pair of jeans I fly to South America with, then promptly wash upon landing and use as padding at the very bottom of my backpack.

After that, it’s shorts, swimsuits, and dresses all the way, even if common sense would have me wearing jeans again during bus trips where the A/C is set to max.

On Sunday night, after my second shower of the day—it’s hot in Salvador—I unfolded them on the bed, stared at them for a second, closed my eyes and put them on.

Phew, they still fit.

Damn, the fabric is so… thick.

I took a few steps, then took them off, but I didn’t repack them. I’d need jeans to fly to Europe. It’s spring, but it’s not shorts weather yet.

Hey, still better than Canada. I managed to smile encouragingly while shivering inwardly when Feng proudly announced it was “almost 0°C” the day before.

My mum wasn’t looking forward to going home. “It’s dark, grey and depressing in France!”

“Not as dark, grey and depressing as in Canada!”

“People are bitchy!”

“At least there are people around—streets are empty in fucking Ottawa!”

For me, going to France isn’t as painful as going to Canada. Still, we were both moody in the last two days in Salvador.

I just hate transitions. It’s uncomfortable. I’m here in Brazil but less than 72, 48, 24 hours from now I’ll be in a totally different environment I can’t even picture. How will I survive? I’m going to miss my Brazilian life!

Mind you, I feel the same to varying degrees regardless of where I’m going—Chile to Brazil, Brazil to Paraguay, France to China, China to France… The exception is Canada in winter. I’m so desperate to leave I don’t look back at all.

Salvador was surprisingly quiet and a bit rainy on both Monday and Tuesday. We managed to wrap up the trip, moping around. For my mum, it involved buying a few souvenirs. For me, it was more about tying up loose ends—cancelling my phone plan, writing a few Airbnb reviews, checking in for the flight, etc.

If I have to leave Brazil, the Salvador–Lisboa–Paris route with TAP is my favourite. The flights are relatively short—8 hours and 2.5 hours—Lisboa’s airport is a pleasant one for a stopover and the schedule works well with a 23:45 flight out of Salvador.

We had a full day on Tuesday. Not the most fun travel, but at least we weren’t rushed.

“Grab a coffee, then take the salgados back to the apartment. I’ll get a moto ride here at Campo Grande to the mall to cancel my phone and buy a pair of Havaianas!” I told my mum early in the afternoon.

“This sentence is 100% Brazilian,” she laughed.

I laughed too. Damn, add cheap moto rides to the list of things I’ll miss.

And salgados.

And easily available cheap cafezinho.

A few hours later, the building porteiro did a double take when he saw us step out of the elevator with luggage—and wearing jeans and a sweater. I think he didn’t recognize us at first.

“Ah, so you’re leaving!” he went.

Yes, leaving, yes, Europe, yes, still cold over there.

The airport was also full of jeans-and-sweater travellers. Word gets around—it’s painfully cold outside Bahia. Like, sometimes, you need a jacket.

We grabbed one last coffee at the machine before going through security.

“Can you believe it’s the first time ever we’re flying together?” I told my mum.

The flight was uneventful—on time, quiet, and quite comfortable all things considered, although it was cold, even with the thick red TAP blanket provided. I think I even slept for a while.

Once we stepped into Lisboa’s airport, Salvador was already a distant memory, even though I was still speaking Portuguese. It was hot outside, but European spring hot, not Bahia hot. And the 300 Brazilian passengers who had flown with us were suddenly a minority, lost in a sea of Europeans travelling to Munich, Málaga, Amsterdam or Rome.

We grabbed a cup of coffee and boarded our flight to Paris at 3:35 p.m.

“So what time is it in Brazil?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s just focus on making it to Nantes. Eventually.”

The flight landed at 6:50 p.m. We picked up luggage and rushed to the subway station for the final leg of the trip—the two-hour TGV train to Nantes at 9:54 p.m.

Perfect timing. I even had the chance to walk to the nearest Franprix and buy eggs, bananas, a fresh baguette and tomatoes for dinner. Ah!

By then, we were a mess, though.

It’s only when, once again, I tapped my card at the coffee machine that I realized we had had coffee in three countries at every step of the way—Salvador, Lisboa, Paris.

No wonder we didn’t sleep on the train.

No wonder we still had the energy to walk to the apartment from the train station at midnight.

Coffee, baby!

I cooked potatoes and an omelette while waiting for the water to heat up enough for a shower. My mum had turned off the hot water tank, so it was completely cold… and it turns out it takes closer to four hours to heat back up, not two—which is how I ended up taking a lukewarm shower at 4 a.m.

Never mind. I was desperate to wash off the travel grime.

Now what?

A bit of spring in France!