Capital of the Bahia state and hub of Afro-Brazilian culture, at the same time Salvador was a large city that I rushed through in order to spend more time in Itacaré (no regrets there). Many sources call it one of the most dangerous cities in Brazil, but I walked through the famed historic district in daylight and took public transit to the airport without any issues. Even when it wasn’t hosting the largest carnival in the world as the city tends to do each February, the streets embraced plenty of traditions. Look out for costumes, the martial art Capoeira, thousands of colorful ribbons tied throughout public spaces, and Salvadoran cuisine and music.

 

 

Getting There and Away

I took a 7-hour $10 bus from Itacaré to Bom Despacho, where I boarded a one-hour $1.50 ferry to Salvador.

The cheapest method for longer distances was to book flights at least a week in advance. My flight to Rio was $56 with Gol Airlines, but Skyscanner should always be monitored as well.

 

 

See and Do

Day 67 (pm)

In the middle of my delirious bus-ride I tried some coconut pudding thing sold to me from the window.

I continued to eat street food and was non-stop disappointed. I caught the noon ferry and alighted in the sketchy outskirts of Salvador. I bought a bag of grapes rinsed in even sketchier water and stopped eating them when I found a squirming maggot.

I would’ve cried a year ago.

I was asking around for which city bus to hop on, kind of hard with the ten words of Portuguese that I know, and three younger locals dressed in work uniforms told me to go with them. They refused let me pay my bus fare. Second time in Brazil.

We got off at the Elevador Lacerda, but before riding up I explored the souvenirs of Mercado Modelo. It was so hot I had to get a coconut for hydration.

The elevator was just cents, taking me straight to Pelourinho. I recognize it is such a privilege to be able to say I’m bored of colorful colonial neighborhoods in Latin America. And this one was super significant, and not even Spanish!

And I had barely slept. And my backpack was heavy. But that didn’t mean I would make excuses and not walk as far as I could without feeling vulnerable to the frequent crime in the area (that means I mostly stayed in crowded areas).

The women selling Acaraje, or stuffed bean fritters, wore white traditional dresses.

I was badgered by people trying to sell me tours and trinkets. Exhausted from hilly streets and glad I didn’t break my ankles on the stone path, I found an omnibus (city bus) for the Salvador airport. Who knew it would take 2 more hours? But again, no complaints because I got to watch the beach sunsets and all the surfers. Speaking of which, I think we let too many sunsets go by in our busy lives. It is always a treat to catch one, somewhere in the world or even at home. I love that backpacking or camping helps me do this, constantly bringing me back to the present.

It felt really great to be laying across airport benches with the armrests digging into my spine, and waking to painful mosquito bites every time I drifted off to sleep despite my use of deet, whilst listening to the announcements repeatedly blaring to be careful about Zika.