Located along the coast of Northwest Brazil, this Bahian town was surrounded by beaches that looked unreal as I approached from the highways. Winter became the last thing on my mind during these warm, happy days. It really was the simple things that made my stay—horses sitting by the sea, amazing amazing food, jam nights…

 

 

It is uncharacteristic of me to be able to pinpoint exactly where my favorite place was out of all the destinations from an entire trip, especially one that lasted nearly four months. When asked about this topic I immediately throwback to this paradise, and can even name my favorite day (Day 66). I met the right people and found what I came for: surfing. Moments in Itacaré just fell into place. I felt so grounded and connected with the present.

 

Getting There and Away

Flying was the superior method, because Brazil is large and buses were pricey. Book a week in advance for one-way flights, as low as $50 from Rio (GIG) to Salvador (SSA). I flew with Gol Airlines and had fun booking on their website in Portuguese (just in case the prices would’ve been higher on the English site), but Skyscanner is always a good thing to check as well.

From Salvador, take a local bus to the port and board the ferry for Bom Despacho, departing every hour, $1.50, one hour. Then take a bus to Itacaré, seven hours (they claim it’s five), around $10. Going the opposite direction, the first bus departs Itacaré at 5:30am. Good thing the bus terminal was merely blocks away from town center.

The actual bus from Rio to Salvador was $100 and 30 hours. I don’t plan ahead and flights were already in the $500’s, so I took a bus up and returned to Rio by plane. Also due to my lack of planning, buses were sold out when I went to the ticket office and I had to stay an extra night in Rio, so buy in advance online. Lastly, I also failed to realize that there were direct buses to Ilhéus for $85, 24 hours, and from Ilhéus it’s another 5 hours north by bus to Itacaré. I ended up just getting off way before Salvador and taking another bus, which means I overpaid; the Rio-Ilhéus-Itacaré was the most direct overland route.

 

 

Accommodation

Bananas became my favorite hostel ever. Where everyone was. And by everyone, I mean the best type of travelers. Here I discovered the most laid-back staff and fellow female solo-traveler roommates who invited me to everything they did from day one. I got along so well with Alana and Delana when we hung out, and at the same time I admired their ambitions and accomplishments with their careers. Delana was about to start Tufts Medical School in the fall and offered me MCAT and gap-year advice.

Every Thursday a sort of phenomenon occurred, where the entire town poured into the creaky doors of Bananas Hostel for Jam Night. Breakfast was a ton of stuff set out on the table, in addition to a different entrée each morning served hot from the kitchen (see Day 65 for more details). It wasn’t the cleanest hostel by a long shot, but for $11.50 for a dorm, I found an atmosphere that was effortlessly created yet so unbeatable.

 

 

Eating

Julian’s Café was my happy place. I drank $3.70  acai bowls like my life depended on it. The cacao nibs sprinkled on top were from Itacaré, the açai purée was delivered from the Amazon itself.  Parbs stopped talking mid-sentence after taking her first bite of brownie because it was so paralyzing-ly good. The owner, Valentina, moved from Belgium to start a surf business with her older brother, but her food was so popular that the shop turned into a restaurant. They named the place after their youngest brother, who still lived back home. I hope I can go back one day and try her pesto arugula zucchini waffle.

A popular spot was Aqua, with the ambiance of fine dining yet a bill of $7 per person. The Bananas staff goes, well, bananas for this place. A wide variety goes into the menu, i.e. Wednesday nights were curry nights. Each day there was a vegetarian special, which the talented chef made sure was prepared that same day because he believed vegetarian food should be as fresh and flavorful as possible.

Cheap local meals were sold at diners found at the end of the pedestrian-only street of gringo shops. For street food, I gorged on Brazilian tapiocas, like a sweeter sort of crêpe. I chose a savory filling and indulged in the spicy-meaty-cheesy flavors, completed by that dash of oregano that made it just right.

 

 

Chill Out

Day 63

Bless the man on my bus who could speak English and told me to get off far before my original destination. I took a bus from Vitoria Conquista to Itacaré, 9 hours, $20.

Suffering from food poisoning was one of the worst experiences I had abroad. I was so dead. I painfully went through the motions at Buddy’s Hostel, $10, to get myself in bed.

 

Day 64

Deciding food wasn’t worth it any more, I stuck to sipping juice for breakfast. Feeling in need of company, I moved to Bananas, which could not have been a better choice. I was immediately chatting with the staff. Peter immediately checked me in and fetched cinnamon leaves so I could make a soothing tea. Dario was the most adorable dreadlock-ed dude ever.

I felt weak, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to surf. As it turns out Malte from Source Temple was here, so I borrowed his board (rentals are $7-8 per day) and we went to the fourth beach in town, which I believe was named Ribeiria. The waves sucked and I was more focused on just trying to stay on the board, thankful that I was Floridian and therefore a solid swimmer.

PARBSSSSSS. We were reunited when she got in from Salvador. Three of us went the the vegetarian restaurant on the strip of gringo shops, a pedestrian only walkway. She told us how crappy her Salvador Workaways were. Moral of the story: don’t go to projects with zero reviews.

Being in sync as we were, she naturally had food poisoning as well and got sick. I was stuck with Malte who had become a shopaholic all of a sudden. It was an ordeal of watching his indecisiveness over touristy junk. He headed to Salvador the next morning to meet his twin at the airport.

My whole room went to bed early.

 

Day 65

Breakfast of the Broke Backpacker III: ham and cheese sandwich, two pieces of cake, four cookies, four pieces of deep fried cinnamon dough, two pieces of cheese dough balls (pão do queijo), melon, mango, yucca, breadfruit, coffee, and juice.

Three Belgian boys showed up and we all figured out we couldn’t surf for shit but had boards and wanted to go flail in the waves/foam until we could stand.

With that, we rushed to catch the 11am bus leaving the terminal, fit our boards underneath, and $1 and 40 minutes later, we were dropped in the middle of the highway.

A short walk uphill revealed signs pointing toward several beaches beyond the jungle. We had heard Praia Engenhoca was good for beginners. However, once inside the jungle struggling to keep a grip on my board, signs disappeared. We picked a turn, it was wrong. We did some more wrong stuff, walked on some giant fire ants, before finding the correct beach.

We couldn’t get very far in the water. I couldn’t stay on my board. It was an endless fight at first, but the tides rose by early afternoon and I could stand using Manu’s longboard.

PARBS FINALLY FOUND US. We shared an icy coconut, $1.45, I got better at catching baby waves, and we headed back at sunset.

For dinner Parbs and I ate all around town. Like actually three hours of walking around. I was too thrilled to be able to digest food again.

Julian’s Cafe blew us away. When I first saw the menu hanging in my hostel, it had reignited my hopes to find real Brazilian açai the way I know it. Parbs and I chatted with Valentina as we spooned her delicious bowls of nourishment. She told us how her brownies made her famous so we had to get one too.

 

 

Day 66

I said goodbye to Parbs. The boys and I were much better prepared in terms of boarding the right busses and making it to the beach of interest, this time one stop further than yesterday at Praia Itacarezinha.

We freaked out at how beautiful it was, like a mirage except we got to play in it. Long, plenty of sand, no more near-death experiences getting swept away by currents. We all stood up and rode baby waves. The cuts, bruises, and sun beating down at noon didn’t matter—I couldn’t get enough of this.

During our breaks we played Pictionary in the sand. Later, Manu sketched designs of Malaysian tribal tattoos as he described them as abstract flowers. He had done a Workaway living with the tribe three years ago, and had his own ink nailed into his foot for six straight hours. The daylight fun ended with a game of “deep-water ninja.”

I beelined for my favorite sustenance. Not one bowl, but two. I was the first to ever order the strawberry lime smoothie bowl immediately followed by the açai. So perfect after surfing.

Knowing myself, that was totally just an appetizer. Aqua had finally reopened, and my roommate Alana joined when I met up with the guys again. I got the vegetarian special of the day, moussaka. As superb our as our candlelit dinner was, we were nearly sleeping through it from exhaustion.

I crashed until Alana dragged me out of bed for Jam Night.

 

Day 67 (am)

We watched all the young people in town gravitate toward our hostel patio. Crazy times. I remember a group of broke kids from Rio playing. Their life was currently one big road trip, living off of earnings from shows.

At 3am we walked through clumps of seaweed on Praia Concha before stargazing on damp sand. How I broke away from the magic and made it onto my 5:30am bus still beats me.