Salvador is Salvador

Back in Salvador! I'll spare you all the story of how I got sick on the plane flight with 3 different illnesses hitting me at once, other than to say, never have the 7 long lines at Sao Paulo been so interminable:
1. Passport control. An extremely tedious 40 min.
2. Bag claim. 20 min
3. Customs. Only 15 min.
4. Pulled off into extra security search in customs. (due to my weird-shaped conga bag, I don't doubt - empty and waiting for a timbal to carry home) (only 2 min, for which I was very grateful)
5. Bag re-check line. Another 40 min!!! oh my god!!! when will these lines ever end!!
6. Security line. 20 min.
7. Line at the gate to get into the little bus that finally carried us to the little flight. 15 min, not too bad.

Lesson 1: Always be sure your Sao Paulo layover is at least THREE hours. Two hours sometimes is really not enough. I deliberately chose a later flight to Salvador to give me extra buffer time, and was very glad I did.
Lesson 2: Make sure you have a seat at the FRONT of the plane on the overnight flight coming into Sao Paulo. It is a horse race to get to the customs line first and those who disembark first have a huge advantage.
Lesson 3. This lesson is for the rich: Arrange a direct flight to Salvador if at all possible.
Lesson 4: Do not be sick!!!

Stumbled off my 3rd and last plane at Salvador, having gone nearly 48 hours without sleep, and been sick most of that time. I I thought "I've never been so exhausted since the trip to Bloco X" (previously my lifetime benchmark for an exhausting journey). Never was I so glad that I'd arranged a taxi driver to pick me up. Honestly the journey had been so miserable I'd been thinking "Do I really even want to go to Brazil? Is this really worth it?" and had started wondering if I was "over" Brazil. But at last I was in Salvador and the sun was shining down, and the air was that indescribably Brazilian air: not just warm, but also soft, velvety, smelling of mango trees and the sea, and all around me were the sounds of Portuguese, and everywhere were acai booths and acaraje stands and coconut vendors. I heard the cries of great kiskadees in the distance - my favorite bird, because when I hear that bird it means I'm back in Brazil. Suddenly all my doubts disappeared. It felt like having gone through hell to reach heaven.

I arrived at my beautiful, peaceful, wonderful apartment. I'd never actually seen it before (I'm just a minor co-owner, not the major owner, and it's primarily for rental) I walked in and was instantly mentally transported to my beloved Flamengo room in Rio - it's in the exact same style, the classic upper-middle-class Brazilian apartment: high ceilings, tile floors in the spacious main room, beautiful wooden parquet floors in the bedrooms, built-in closets with an extra row of storage cupboards that are too high to reach, the usual infinitesimally tiny room for the maid in the back, and in the kitchen the classic Brazilian tiny little stove and slightly tippy pots and slightly sticky cupboard doors. (There is not a single pot in Brazil that is not slightly tippy. Balancing your slightly tippy pot of beans on your eentsy little stove is just part of the Brazilian experience).

I knew it was in a good location, right on Alfonso Celso, but hadn't realized what a cute little neighborhood it is - friendly little shops and neighborhood bars right below. 2 blocks from the beach and the lighthouse, right on the bus routes and right near the shopping. It's on the top (3rd) floor, high enough to look out on a leafy mango treetop and feel as peaceful as can be, but not so high that it would be a terrible walk up the stairs. It feels extremely safe - Alfonso Celso is one of the most peaceful streets, and the regulars who gather round the bar below to sing and watch soccer and play cards just seem to make it even safer. After the 3rd time that you've threaded your way through the card game, they're calling hello and inviting you for a drink.

Here are the rare things about the apartment: the hot water in the showers actually works. The beds are comfortable. The fans actually work. The stove and fridge actually work. There's enough outlets. There's a washing machine that actually works. There's a COFFEEMAKER. (anyone who's travelled much in Brazil will recognize the significance of each of these facts!) But most of all, I have simply never had such a peaceful place to sleep in Salvador. There are birds singing in the tree right outside my window, and I can distantly hear the sounds of singing from the bar below, and the fan is whirring peacefully overhead; I could stay here forever.

It's the rainy season here. I felt a little silly leaving Oregon just as it enters its spectacular summer, and coming to Brazil during the rainy season, but I simply could not resist the unbelieavably low plane fares right now. Even here in Salvador people seem concerned that I might not know what month it is: "You've arrived during the rainy season, did you know that? You know that it is not Carnaval now?" But in fact the weather is perfect - 80F almost constantly - comfortable but not too hot. It is magnicent beach weather for a pale gringa like me. The passing showers, to my Oregon eyes, seem hardly even worth noticing, they pass so quickly, and so far the rain has been so light it is only like being feathered with tiny, welcome little dots of coolness. (the dots seem not to contain any water - just coolness.) And the last three days have had no rain at all. The sea is the absolute perfect temperature - the kind where you can just run into the sea full tilt and it simply welcomes you with open arms. It's not too hot, and I don't have to worry constantly about being fried to a crisp. And the beach is friendly, and peaceful, and uncrowded, and the main danger is not pickpockets but being accidentally mowed down by the capoeira guys who are doing rows and rows of endless backflips along the open beach, something they never have room to do during the high season.

And the bands are playing in Pelourinho, and all my teachers seems to be very available for lessons!

So it turns out, Salvador is Salvador no matter what season it is, and it is FANTASTIC to be here.