February 22nd
- 25th
My fist week of travelling alone coincided with Brazil's biggest festival - carnaval; the mad period of parades, dancing, samba, dressing up and lots of parting held four days before Ash Wednesday. Fearing Rio may just be too big, expensive and overwhelming on my own, I chose to join in the celebrations on the Island of Santa Catarina instead where there was still meant to be a good carnaval atmosphere but on a smaller scale to raving Rio.
Not long after arriving at my hostel (after a 14 hour coach
journey, two local buses and half an hour of walking around in 30
degree heat tying to find the place), I met a Swedish girl, Angie, an
Australian guy, Thierry, and a French girl, Mathilde. We spent 3
days together, checking out the town, beach and carnaval parades.
Tamara, a Brazilian girl who worked at the hostel, came out with us
one night to a town on the island called St. Antonio. The place was buzzing and we felt we got our carnaval fill: drummers with amazing rhythm, floats with bands on top (blocos), men
dressed as women, women barely dressed, incredible hip movements,
music, cocktails and lots of dancing. We squashed ourseleves among the crowds, danced where we could and ate our first Brazilian tapiocas.
The day after the St
Antonio street party, we decided to go sand boarding down the dunes
near Joaquina beach. Thierry and Mathilde sensibly took the
bus there. Angie and I went for the more adventurous option of
walking across the dunes, which turned into swamps about half way in,
and arrived an hour and a half later just as the heavens opened.
Boarding was substituted by sitting in a bar drinking beer and eating salgados. I also ate possibly
the best chocolate truffle of my life in that bar.
Back at the hostel, the
drinking and eating continued with pasta and Caipirinhas before
the approaching sound of drums being battered lured us onto the
streets again for the last night of carnaval. The vibe the drummers
produced was electrifying and everyone was passionate about having a
good time. We joined the dancers behind one of the floats and floated
our way through the town before heading for a bar for one last round of the national cocktail.
On my last day on the island of
Santa Catarina, I said goodbye to Angie, who's travel path was taking
her to Rio, and went with Thierry and Mathilde on a local bus to Barra
da Lago, a quaint little town next to a river and beside a beach.
There I discovered the wonders of an ice-cream buffet bar and felt
like I was a little girl again, deliberating over which penny sweet
should go in the bag.
All in all, my experience
of Santa Catarina/Floripa during carnaval was probably exactly how it
should have been: lots of dancing, eating and drinking; in a couple
of words, pure indulgence. It gave me the feeling that there may be a
lot of partying to be done in my month in Brazil.
