The colonial town of Paraty

Four Days in Paraty

(pronounced Para-chi)

We got up early for our transfer from Ilha Grande to Paraty and were at breakfast around 8.30am – shockingly early for us! There were actually more people around. On the TV the fuel crisis had gone up a notch. It was a beautiful morning as we waited at wharf for our transfer. There were lots of people milling about on different boats. Luckily, I heard an English girl who could speak Portuguesn asking about Easy Transfers, our company. I went over to her and had a chat.

It was a very slow boat over the ocean. We talked to an lady from Holland. Then we had a van transfer with a French couple, gay couple from San Francisco (one was a kiwi!) and an English guy. The driver drove like a madman and combined with a yuck coxinha for lunch from a petrol station, I felt like I was going to be sick. The van was intercepted by protesters from the gasoline strike. It was a bit scary.

The van left us on a dodgy corner with ripped up pavement and homeless people around. We had arrived at our hostel, and apart from us, it was empty. For that we got a room upgrade to have a private bathroom.

Because we still felt shaken from our transport and were annoyed at our location, we went for a brisk walk to see the old town quickly. We returned to the hostel for a lie down and then went back at 5pm for free walking tour- the English guy from the van was on it. Jo, an English girl joined us. It was nice understanding more of the history of old town with a fun guide. The old town is a cobbled stone area built by the Portuguese, filled with white stone houses and colourful window sills. It is really pretty and lots of the houses are used as shops and restaurants.

The two English and us went out for dinner afterwards at a recommended restaurant – it made a local fish stew called something similar to macacu and we had cinnamon cachaca caipirinhas.

Then we went to free Samba in square. The musicians were tinkering with their mostly percussion instruments, it took ages to start but then it was like an open street party. The music was so fun, everyone was dancing even though only one lady in white could actually do the Samba. She looked incredible. We bopped along best we could, just happy to be caught up with everyone else.

Paraty Jeep Tour day

Today was a funny day as we had booked the tour in advance online. The breakfast at our hostel wasn’t great, stale bread and a few wasps obsessed with my guava jam and coffee cup on the balcony next to the kitchen. A man picked us up from the hostel at 10.15am (actually on time) in a vintage Land Rover. It was pretty cool sitting in the back, although it felt slightly wrong with all repercussions of the fuel crisis for the locals at the moment.

We then waited in a hot tourism office that we could have easily walked to ourselves. The cars filled up and we were told we had to split – one in the back and one next to the driver. Susie sat in the front and I squeezed myself into a tiny gap, pressed against an Argentinian lady’s leg and a metal bar holding the spare tire. We drove up into the hills bouncing around.

First up was a nice waterfall view that everyone crowded to get a photo of, and then about 300 meters up, a swimming hole. It felt too cold and too soon for a swim so Susie and I sat out in the sun. It was nice just sitting in the jungle, watching the others jump in. The tour guide spoke in Portuguese and then translated for us, which made us feel a bit separated. But then we realised most people we Irish with thick accents, but in a huge group where their few Portuguese friends could translate. The Argentinians couldn’t understand either.

Then we went to a cachaca distillery. An English speaker took the tour, and we must have combined with another because lots of people from the walking tour yesterday were there! It was fascinating seeing how the liquor was made, from growing the sugar cane outside to the finished product. We did a tasting – it was strong and sweet! I bought two tiny bottles for Rio, one a French oak aged version, and one the ‘Gabriela’ cinnamon flavour.

Then it was lunch time in a big park area. I had very average and expensive handmade ravioli. We looked at another river, this one had huge boulders in it. The park was filled with beautiful tropical flowers, it was very peaceful.

Next was another waterfall combo in the mountains and jungle. There was a huge slide down a massive boulder – like 20 meters or so. I wanted to do it until I saw only two boys volunteer (out of 20!) I discovered why when I saw the first one, it wasn’t just the smooth last part, it was a zig zag down rock face, headfirst on your back! One got stuck and they both had scratches on their backs. The last part was just a waterfall pool. Susie didn’t want to go in, but I felt I had to, so I jumped in. The water was cold but refreshing and not that bad after a while. I floundered around and got out to dry.

They dropped us back at the hostel. Dinner was at a great turkish place called Istanbul right by the hostel. We also popped into the supermarket for snacks, the fruit and vege aisle was empty! The fuel strike has halted all freight and the fresh stuff is what you notice first as it’s delivered daily. We’re up to day 9 of the strike. We also saw about 100 people with cannisters and just as many cars queueing around the block for the last petrol station open in town as we drove out this morning. It was closed by the time we got back.

Day Three in Paraty 

Today we had our scooner boat tour lined up from Green Toad tours. After another plain hostel breakfast, we walked down to the Paraty tour office. We saw Luis, our guide from yesterday, and he didn’t look happy to see us! They pointed us to the wharf. As we were walking through the incredibly uneven stones of old town we heard someone call out, ‘kiwis!’ Lo and behold, Jo and Mark the two brits were walking behind us to the same boat tour.

We climbed onboard the boat, which involved ‘walking’ down a ramp more than 45 degrees from the wharf, and nabbed a table for the four of us. It was boiling sitting in the sun, but as soon as the boat left we were in the shade. It was a beautiful blue day. The sea looked like glass reflecting the sky.

Also on board were the San Fran couple and a few other people we recognised from walking tours. The first swimming spot was beautiful – green water that looked crystal clear, you could see the sand on the bottom of the ocean even though it was five metres deep. We took noodles are floated around the beach while Mark took the dingy – a boat being towed by the ship’s captain’s swimming manpower. It was very funny.

The next spot was an island for snorkling. We didn’t snorkle but jumped in and were immediately surrounded by fish. The ship had a photographer, this boisterous Brazilian lady who was so friendly it was hard not to like her. She had taken couple shots on the boat of all the couples, now she threw rice at me and made all the fish swirl around me. She called to Susie to join.

Lunch was served at the next island spot. It was a rather uninspiring meal of fish, rice and basic salad. No sauces. Then sun hid behind the clouds so by the fourth spot, a beach, Jo, Susie and I were first off the boat and swam to shore, then immediately flung ourselves onto a huge boulder and just didn’t move until we warmed up. Everyone wondered what on earth we were doing. The photographer hadn’t finished with us yet and made us have individual photoshoots in the waves, in between couples and honeymoon shoots. It was hilarious.

On the way home we warmed up slightly. We bought the photos from today for 30 real, not too bad. On the way home we saw a heron on the beach and also two vultures! We rejoined Mark and Jo for dinner at 6.30 at the bridge. A old VW van had set up as a bookshop there, it was a good waiting spot in the dark. There were no restaurants over the bridge, so we used lonely planet to find another Brazilian one. I had a similar meal to lunch, but it was much nicer.

After that we went and saw a puppet show. The theatre was hard to find, like all the shops in the historical centre the white walls and structured window system hides what is inside. It looked exactly like every other shop but we somehow found it. Across the road and we waited we saw this cooking school sign. The lady came out and had a chat to us, it sounded amazing but it was far too expensive at 290 real. She also told us it is a religious holiday tomorrow Corpus Christi. Apparently they make colourful carpets from sawdust in the street. It sounds interesting!

The puppet show itself was really cute and quite bizarre – the first scene was a man playing a Bach piece on the violin. Two women wore all black like the background and moved the puppets in their fingers. You could see the hands but the puppets had very expressive faces so it was easy to forget the women were there. The second was about a man who commited suicide after work. The final piece was the ‘immaculate conception’ which involved watching a puppet masterbating then giving birth straight after. It was intense. The best thing was that all our new friends happened to be there so we could say goodbye - the San Fran couple, Jo and Mark.

Last day in Paraty

After two tours we were keen to have a relaxing day. We had breakfast, it finishes at 9.30 so we couldn’t really sleep in, and then I did some computer admin. Susie did her washing down in the courtyard in front of the men because there is this ridiculous rule we can’t do washing in our rooms.

Around 11.30 we headed out. First we went to the ATM, then across the road for an acai bowl. That was all well and good until a street seller said something to us in Portuguese and I replied ‘nao obrigada’ or no thank you. He started raving at us and anyone in general. He was aggresive and scary but he didn’t try to come in the cafe. After we left we realised he was following us down the street. We went into a pharmacy and looked at toothbrushes until he got distracted, then we continued to the Old Town.

We took a few photos of the beautoful buildings before stumbling across Corpus Christi, where lots of people we creating temporary murals on the street paths from sawdust and paper flowers and pieces of plants. It was fascinating to watch. We got a coffee from a cafe in the square and decided we may as well have lunch. It was a chicken sandwich because they didn’t have any vegetables from the strike.

Then we looked through all the shops, bought nothing and went home feeling very hot – the sun was out in full force. We left again at 5pm to take sunset photos and have dinner. The place we wanted to go, a hamburger place, had no potatoes to make chips because of the strike, so we went a few doors down. There we had a set menu of bruschetta, lasange, and flambage bananas with icecream. Our outdoor seats were by a little church and soon a huge parade went past, led by priests, heaps of alter boys and girls, then ordinary people all praying aloud. They walked over all the beautiful murals.

Our waitress took forever to get the bill, to the point we considered walking out, and then it was incorrect. But she was quite nice about it and fixed it for us.

The next morning we packed our bags and had a quick breakfast at Manue. It was delicious – fresh acai bowl with banana and honey, a wrap with cheese and tomato and an espresso. We don’t know if it was the fuel strike ending or if this breakfast had been this good all along, while we had been eating stale bread and cake made by a German girl at our hostel.