Smiling through Bahia - click here to see the album

Bahia’s tourism campaign slogan ‘Sorria, você está na Bahia’ (Smile, you are in Bahia) could almost be deemed as unnecessary. Life as a tourist here is simple: the scenery is astonishing, locals are friendly and prices are relatively low for Brazilian standards.

Having had enough of the pounding trance beats at the Universo Paralelo festival Nathalia, Raj and myself decided to leave a couple of days earlier and head to Morro de São Paulo, just north of Pratigi beach. We got a transfer that took us straight to Valença port, where a boat would take us across to Tinharé island, where Morro is situated.

Slightly ruined by touristic over-development, the town of Morro can scare you off, especially as you arrive on the wharf and must shoulder your way through tourism representatives and departing tourists to be able to get to town center. It was peak season, so Brazilian, Argentinian and Chilean tourists packed into the tight walkways and small beaches of Morro as if there was nowhere else to go on the island. With Bahia’s intense sunlight shining on our heads, we made our way to town with our heavy backpacks and found a hostel on Morro’s 2nd beach. It would be the first night in a week that we would be sleeping on beds, so we resisted the urge of a nap and headed to a reggae bar just outside town. In a perfect seafront and secluded location, we met Daniel and Maria Paz by coincidence, a Chilean couple that we had met in the festival. After a very spiritual conversation and some beers, we called it a day and got ready for the well-deserved and long-awaited moment: lying on a bed.

After a truly epic goodnight sleep, we woke up to meet our Chilean friends and headed out of town to the more secluded beaches of Tinharé island. We found a good spot under some trees with clear waters in front of us and did not move for the rest of the day. We found that Morro has a lot to offer as soon as you leave the hectic town center. That night we camped again (hostel prices at high season are hardly affordable here) and left early in the morning to meet the festival survivors at Itacaré.

Itacaré is a tuned-down version of Morro. Equally full of Brazilian, Argentinian and Chilean tourists, the town has a much more personal and laid-back feel to it. We stayed at a packed camping site on the main street and headed out for the first of many falafel dinners that week.

The next day Nathalia (with an ‘h’) left and we met Natalia (without an ‘h’) and Catalina, two Chilean dentist students with whom the famous ‘click’ was achieved. They integrated the group and for our Itacaré stay we were up to 7 members. A week quickly went by which showed how much we were enjoying the place. Our daily ritual was simple, repetitive, yet fulfilling: an energetic açaí breakfast in the morning, exploring a new beach in the afternoon and falafel for dinner at night. Drinks would usually follow.

Itacaré’s beaches were, in my opinion, the best we found in Bahia. Besides being very diverse, you have to trek to get to most of them, which means that they’ve mostly kept their status as wild and paradisaical beaches. A special mention to the symmetrically perfect Prainha and the unique Engenhoca, my top 2. Worth mentioning is also the beach football Portugal vs. Brazil game held on the first day, which Portugal convincingly won 8-2 to demonstrate the effectiveness of collective football over individual skills.

Meanwhile Francisco was making is way from Lisbon to Porto Seguro, so I made my way south to meet him there. Gustavo also left to Salvador to make his way back to Lisbon, whilst the Chilean girls went to Morro de São Paulo. On the way down I met Gabriel, who had been a barman at the festival, and who, by pure coincidence, had met and had a long conversation with Nathalia. Small world, and certainly small Bahia. Francisco was about to begin is 8-month trip through the Americas and would be joining us for the last 2 weeks of our South American leg. We spent a night at Arraial d’Ajuda and got on the bus to Caraíva the next day, to meet André, Arthur and Raj. As if meeting Gabriel was not enough we also met some kids in the bus who went to St. Dominic’s International School at the same time as all 4 of us went.

Due to its picturesqueness and uniqueness, Caraiva is Bahia’s favorite holiday destination for many romantic Brazilians. With no roads (people walk on dirt paths), not much development (electricity only reached town 3 years ago) and tremendous beaches nearby, it was easy to see why. Life at Caraiva manages to be even slower than in the rest of Bahia. There isn’t much to do besides eating, drinking and sunbathing. At night the whole town came together at Forró do Pelé, to dance to the typically northeastern Brazilian music. The beach right in front of town might not be what you expected, but if you cross the river mouth and walk for an hour you’ll reach Satu beach, which will meet anyone’s standards for a truly paradisaical and deserted beach. If you decide to walk for another couple of hours you’ll reach Praia do Espelho, one of Brazil’s most famous beaches where millionaires frequently get choppered to. We decided that the deserted delights of Satu beach were exactly what we were looking for, so we walked no further.

After 3 days in charming Caraiva we headed back to Arraial d’Ajuda, for 3 additional days in a more party-oriented town. In our first morning there, during breakfast, we met Alice, a Carioca (person from Rio) who was on holidays alone and expecting another friend, Dani, to arrive on that day. Since Natalia and Catalina had left, the 2 slots we had for female friends were available, and they fit the profile! We soon found out that they worked for Globo, the largest media group and TV producer in South America, which would later prove to be very interesting.

Our days in Arraial d’Ajuda were spent between the beaches of Pitinga and Taípe, between epic footvolley matches and lazy sunbathing afternoons, between good lunches and awesome dinners. Life between sunrise and sunset was good at Arraial, and even better between sunset and sunrise!

However, as outstanding as Arraial, and more generally Bahia, were, the Marvelous City awaited. For me, Bahia is the Brazilian version of Portugal’s Vicentine coast, only better. Being absolutely addicted to Portugal’s southwest wild coast, you can only imagine how much I enjoyed Bahia… and I risk saying that André, Arthur, Raj, Gustavo, Nathalia, Natalia, Catalina, Francisco, Alice and Dani will share this feeling with me.

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The trembling Bombonera - click here to see the album

Our time in Mendoza had come to an end, and after Facundo saw us off, we hopped on another luxurious bus heading to Buenos Aires. Largely another incident-free ride, except when we were abruptly woken up at 4am by the driver telling us to collect our bags and move to another bus, since the one we were on was broken. Nothing surprises me in these bus rides any more…

We arrived at Buenos Aires in the morning and made our way to Marta’s apartment, Lourenço’s friend who had kindly lent it to us while she was in Lisbon. We knew that Boca Juniors were playing that evening at the Bombonera and, football fanatics as we (I) are (am), there was no way we were not going to be in the stadium when the matched kicked off. So the first action point was to make our way to La Boca, the working class neighborhood of Buenos Aires that is ferociously supportive of its local club. Since Boca Juniors had just been crowned champions the week before, I knew that the task to get tickets would be difficult. On arrival at the stadium, we spoke to a steward who confirmed that there would be no tickets on sale, and that we shouldn’t buy any tickets from a tout, since those would certainly be fake. We were disappointed, to say the least, but decided to give it one last go by walking around to the other side of the stadium to see if there were any touts selling tickets. Sure enough, a tout approached us offering us tickets for 250 pesos each ($60). He then proceeded to show us a wad of cash, saying that these were certainly not fake otherwise he wouldn’t have made this much money. We placed our faiths in him, negotiated the price down to 200 pesos and bought tickets, though they were to the away end, provided they were not fake of course.

Since there was plenty of time until kick off, we decided to explore the nearby bohemian neighborhood of San Telmo, famous for its Sunday market, which turned out to be an exceptional walk through vendors selling varied goods from antiques to fresh food and juices. We walked back to La Boca, had some beers to soak up the pre-match atmosphere, where locals were by now all sporting their Boca Juniors t-shirts and singing, before we headed in. On the way in, we passed a large group of tourists who were on an organized package and paying double what we had paid for the tickets…thankfully, we had actually been original and avoided this.

The ticket actually ended up not being a fake, and the match was incredible. With no cameras on us, since we were told they were too dangerous to take in, we ended up having to thank Nick, the South African traveler we met at the game, for taking the picture of us in the stadium. The quality of the game was good, far better than what we had seen in Chile and Bolivia. The highlight, of course, was the atmosphere, made special due to the roaring local fans. So special that at one point I remember having the ground shake beneath me, as if it were an earthquake, and as I looked around I could see the entire stadium jumping. The game finished 1-0, and the players did a lap of honor to celebrate winning the league. What an awesome first day in Buenos Aires!

The next day we went to the Recoleta cemetery, where we saw the grave of Eva Peron. Eva Peron’s story is of inspiration to many Argentinians, including today’s current president Cristina Kirchner, for speaking out and defending labor rights as well as women’s rights. Argentinians, particularly those from Buenos Aires, have noticeable Italian influence, so it was no surprise that we went to lunch at the oldest pizzeria in town, Guerrin, for some fantastic pizza. The afternoon was spent in Palermo, a fashionable area of Buenos Aires that boasts boutiques, cafes, restaurants and a park. We had been told that this would be the best place to go out for dinner and drinks, so we made plans to come back the following day. It being a Monday night, we were told the best thing in town to do for the evening would be to see La Bomba del Tiempo, an outdoor concert of 17 percussionists that play to a sold-out crowd every week. The music was excellent and the crowd mix of tourists and Argentines made for a great and relaxed vibe.

The following morning we walked around the microcentro and took in the other famous sites, Obelisco and Casa Rosada and crossed over to Puerto Madero, which reminded me a lot of London. Puerto Maderos is the newest neighborhood of Buenos Aires, in the revamped docklands area, which is home to a number of trendy restaurants and tall buildings. Later, we went back to La Boca to visit the ‘Caminito’, a street museum of around 100m with colorful buildings and street tango shows. The story is that Italians who had emigrated to Buenos Aires painted their houses with the leftover paint from the shipyards they used to work in. Today it is packed with tourists and Maradona look-alikes, but walking around the surrounding areas of the Boca you certainly get a sense of the mystique surrounding the place, with kids playing in small football courts, walls littered with political propaganda from many years ago as well as pro-Boca messages. It was great to see a neighbourhood that is fiercely proud of its heritage.

We went back to Palermo at night for dinner and a few drinks, which André and Lourenço claim was the best ‘bife de chorizo’ of their lives. They even took a picture to prove the point. As the resident vegetarian in the group, I wasn’t compelled to try.

Our time in Buenos Aires was limited to 3 days, which is way too short…but in such a short time period it was impossible not to fall in love with Buenos Aires immediately: the people, the culture, the food, the charming and unique different neighbourhoods all make it an unbelievable city, standing out from all the others we visited in South America. I will be back, for sure.

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Us with Facundo - click here to see the album

As experienced travelers that we are, we know how a local can significantly enhance your experience in a certain place. We therefore ensured that Mendoza, Argentina’s wine capital, was on our itinerary, where my good friend Facundo (a.k.a. Turco) is from.

Facundo lived in Portugal for 4 years and had just recently returned home. Even though he was still getting acquainted to life back home, he, and the charming Borelli family, hosted us like royalty.

We landed at Santiago well aware that we had only 1 hour to reach the bus terminal in the city center and catch one of the last night buses to Mendoza. What we weren’t aware of was that a national holiday meant that Chileans had a 3-day weekend, so all the buses to Argentina were sold-out. After running through the sales offices of the 20 bus companies that had buses leaving to Mendoza that night we found 1 free seat, which I didn’t hesitate to take as Facundo would be expecting us at 5am in Mendoza, and I had no way of telling him we’d be late.

The seat was in a small, old and uncomfortable van, as one should have predicted from the cheaper ticket price, and the driver, plus two drunk passengers, made it even worst. We raced up the cordillera, overtaking trucks that at times were already overtaking other trucks. I’d be exaggerating if I said that I saw my life in a flash, but I did fear for my safety a number of times during that night. The peek that I got of the Aconcagua, South America’s tallest peak, was hardly enjoyable in those conditions.

We arrived at Mendoza a full hour before we were supposed to, which can give you a rough idea of the speed we travelled at. At 5am, Facundo, in good health and spirit, showed up. We had breakfast and went to visit ‘La Catedral’, Facundo’s rugby club. It was curious to see how much it feels like home to him. A rugby player myself (even though at a significantly lower level) I couldn’t help but to feel nostalgic about the sport. It’s certainly one of the things I miss the most from being back home.

We then went to the Cerro de la Gloria, a small hill that offers the best view of the city. At the top, yet another imposing statue of Argentina’s liberator San Martin overlooks the city. Probably only challenged by Eva Perón, he is certainly one of the country’s proudest political heroes.

On the way back, I noticed a small square that looked distinctly familiar. We stopped only to find out that it was called Plaza de Portugal, with typical Portuguese sidewalks and azulejos and a statue of Nª Senhora de Fátima. Apparently it had been donated by a Portuguese company which I can only assume has significant business in the region.

We then picked up Raj and André from the Bus terminal and after revisiting ‘La Catedral’ and the Plaza de Portugal, and a demonstration of cooking skills by Facundo and a delicious lunch at his place we headed for some beers in the city center, to check out Mendoza’s other beautiful views: the ladies! Now, I’m not just saying this to act all manly, but Mendoza is definitely home to one of South America’s biggest concentration of stunning girls.

At night we hit Aristides, the road where all of Mendoza’s nightlife is packed in to. Again stunned by the constantly passing beauties, we were treated to an incredible dinner. Emanuel, one of Facundo’s friends who also played in Portugal, joined us for dinner and drinks and managed to keep us awake with his energy and hilarious jokes (I had only slept a couple of hours in the van the night before).

The next morning, or should I say afternoon, after a proper night sleeping,  we were treated to yet another tasty lunch, this time cooked by Facundo’s mom. We were certainly enjoying the pleasures of family life again, something we hadn’t experienced for over 3 months. After lunch, we headed out to a small wine cellar whose owners Facundo knew. A small family business, the Bonfanti’s were extremely welcoming and we were presented with some of the best wines we have ever tasted. After a few glasses of Malbec, Cabernet Sauvingon and Rosado, it was clear why Mendoza is so famous for its wines. That night we hit Aristides again, this time prolonging our stay until much later.

On our last day in Mendoza there was still one typical Argentinian experience missing on our CVs: an asado. With Real Madrid playing Barcelona that afternoon and Emanuel’s famous credits for being able to put on an excellent asado, we headed to his house where we were met by a few more of his friends. The afternoon was spent between the swimming pool, the TV and the dinner table, all in terrific spirits. The perfect sending off to 3 outstanding days in Mendoza.

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The imposing 'Torres del Paine' - click here to see the album

The name Torres del Paine was as appealing to us as several other we’d heard before we reached Patagonia. We were aware of the geological formation that would certainly be an impressive sight and had heard endless stories about the park’s famous W trail, but I think none of us were expecting what we were about to experience.

Our Torres del Paine adventure began in Puerto Natales, the small Chilean city that serves as the entry gate to the Torres del Paine National Park. Here, we booked our bus to the park and started preparing for our biggest Patagonian adventure. We were about to take off on a 4-day trek with no guide and would have to carry with us all the necessary supplies for the expedition.

Because we are poor (and cheap) backpackers, we had opted for not paying for the very expensive meals provided at the refugios, so we headed to the supermarket to shop for subsistence. It was soon clear that choosing what you will eat in the next 4 days taking into account that you’ll have to carry it in your backpack and whilst having no access to fridges is not an easy task. After much head-scratching and walking several miles in the supermarket’s alleys decisions were made. My shopping bag would be mostly made up of bread, cookies, tuna, chocolate and cereal bars, energetic drinks and lots, lots of nuts.

The next morning we woke up early for the final preparations. We would be trekking with our large backpacks for the first time, so we left everything that we wouldn’t need behind and packed all our supplies into the backpacks. We got on the bus, paid the entrance fee and left the bus at the Pehoé lake where we would get a catamaran to Refugio Paine Grande, our base camp for the following two days. We met some fellow Portuguese tourists on the way, a rare occurrence on this trip up to now.

The Refugio Paine Grande had pretty comfortable beds for a refugio‘s standards, so energy levels were boosting the following morning. We were all ready to tackle the first leg of the W. If the park’s natural beauty hadn’t become obvious in the lake crossing the previous day, the shining sun on our first day of trekking left no doubt. With a lot of trekking on our CVs, we imposed a strong rhythm. As usual Arthur trailed for a while, this time, however, only to surprise us an hour into the trek with incredible pace. Needless to say he was being fueled by his favorite psytrance music.

Several stops were needed on our way to the Grey campsite, not only to rest but to admire the stunning lake, glacier and hill views. Our first peak at the Grey glacier from about 5 kms away was certainly one of the highlights. Even though we’d just been to the world famous Perito Moreno glacier, the fact that there is hardly any development around this one and that you must trek to see it made it equally memorable.

We arrived at Grey campsite about 3.5 hours into the trek and after enjoying lunch together with a closeup view of the Glacier, we made our way back to Paine Grande, totaling 22 kms on the day. After a few games of Worms (yes, Arthur brought his iPad on the trek) and sueca, we called it a day.

The itinerary for day 2 comprised similar distances to the first day, however this time we would be carrying our large backpacks for around 10 kms. It was soon obvious that trekking with the large backpacks was a whole different ball game, but we all manned up to the challenge and again imposed a strong rhythm. On arrival to the Italiano campsite, we dropped our large backpacks for the challenging French valley climb. Although the objective is to reach the French valley mirador at the top of the valley, my favorite viewpoint is midway through the climb. At a certain point, you get three very distinct yet equally stupefying views. Down the valley the serenity of the Nordenskiöld lake contrasts strongly with the violent constant collapse of large chunks of ice from the gigantic glacier above, whilst the top of the valley offers an imposing view of geological rock formations, very similar to Torres del Paine themselves. I could have spent hours here.

However, we had to make it to the top and back down to Refugio Los Cuernos before nightfall, so we kept going. On the way down, we met Tiago, a fellow countryman from Madeira (who must have trekked some 35kms that day) travelling with his wife Joana, who were friends with Francisco, who would be joining us later on the trip, and were great company before bedtime. An interesting coincidence to wrap up the day.

That same night Arthur was mobilizing half of the Refugio’s staff in order to find out the score of the local derby back home. Atlético Mineiro was playing Cruzeiro in the last matchday of the national championship, a game that could dictate Cruzeiro’s relegation, making Arthur a very happy man. With no way to communicate with the outside world except for a radio, Arthur gave clear instructions to the radio operator on what he was looking for. After a nail biting wait the news came: Arthur’s team had lost 6-1. Good effort.

Day #3 was the big day. The toughest climb for the biggest reward. The morning was dedicated to reaching Refugio Chileno, a relatively tough climb with our big backpacks. After lunch at the refugio we set off for the big prize. After 2.5 days and about 50kms of trekking, this was certainly one of the most challenging climb of the trip. Motivation levels were high though and we were able to keep going against all instincts.

On the top the reward was, indeed, grand. A beautiful sapphire blue lake leads into the gigantic rock formations that we’d seen a few times on pictures and from a few kms away on arrival day. If someone had told me that they had been carved by humans I would have probably believed them. The real deal is much better than the pictures and worth the climb.

On the way down coincidence number 2 stroke as I met João and Joana, a couple of friends from Lisbon who were on holidays in Chile. We were almost fooled into believing that the world was big after spending two weeks in Patagonia, but this reminded us of how small it can be at times.

Day 4 was spent heading down to Laguna Amarga to head back to Puerto Natales. It would have been a stroll if it wasn’t for the incredibly strong winds that required us to constantly keep our balance in the very narrow trails with extremely high drops. After 4 days and over 80kms walking we were ready to hit town for a proper meal and a very deserved long rest.

We’ve since heard that an accidental forest fire has destroyed a large part of the park, which has deeply saddened us. We visited several national parks in South America, trekked several trails, hiked several mountains and volcanoes and visited several lakes and valleys and Torres del Paine is, in our opinion, South America’s finest national park. We hope it recovers quickly.

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