Salvador and around

Mar 27
Being totally honest, Im not all that impressed with Salvador. It has all the hallmarks of a once fabulous city but now is looking quite decrepid. We had a look around the local plazas, cobbled streets and down around the harbour. We decided to visit this particular church, Iglesia San Francisco. It was of particular interest as they disgruntled slaves that were used in its construction, 400 years ago, decided to paint large genitals and pregnant bellys on the cherubs for the laugh.
When we arrived at the church this mad cross eyed old woman started following us around and occaisionally saying a few words and taking advantage of our politeness launched into a full tour. Of course we didnt request nor want her services (payment expected) and we started walking off in different directions. She asked me where we were from and I replied `Ireland´. She said `Oh you people from England never listen!´ We nearly choked and this made her worse. She stormed off and started shouting `Why do you bother coming here, have a nice flight home!´ ..... wierdo

Mar 28
This morning we left Salvador for Morro Sao Paulo, an island 90 mins away by speedboat. Its a popular tourist attraction as there are no cars and the roads are mostly sandy lanes. The taxi service are wheelbarrows only and whilst mostly used for luggage Ive seen it used to carry lazy kids, used as an ambulance and delivery truck. Everything on the island is done by handball (A term used to describe heavy labour with no mechanical help) and black Afro Brazilians carrying and pushing heavy loads all day with white tourists wandering around. Seems so unfair and perhaps a glimpse into what the days of slavery may have looked like. We had a wander around that night and although there were a few musicians in the restaurants etc., there was not much else to do for `active relaxers´ like us.

Mar 29
Had a lie in this morning and after a late breakfast we decided to take a walk around the island. We walked through the midday heat (35C+) on the sandy roads. The sand was soft and hard to walk in and was so hot it started to melt my flip flops. This was to last for 3 hours trekking through little villages, up and down sand hills and met no tourists (obviously off the beaten track or the only eejits not in their hotels with the a/c on) I was sweating like a squished sponge while the local kids were running around oblivious to it all.

Mar 30
Went on a boat trip at 9.30am with a good crowd but they all spoke Portugese except 3 Swiss girls which we chatted to. We visited some reefs for swimming and snorkeling, stopped in a lovely place called Boipeba for lunch and this historical town for an hour on the way back which consisted of 2 run down churches of little Architectural signifiance, and 22 unofficial tour guides asking for money. On the way home we stopped at this raft that was just offshore and they had fresh oyster tasting for E1.50 each. I declined.
That evening after a siesta we went down the town and met all the people from our tour again by accident, short akward conversations though with their lack of English and our absence of Portugese. I decided that night to invest in a new pair of swimming togs to replace the ones that I bought in 2006 on the O´Donnellan & Joyce Christmas party at the Westport House hotel leisure centre. They once were black but now a pale shade of grey and 9 inches shorter on the leg that the new `board shorts´togs that double up as everyday wear. We found this shop that the local used for beachwear and saw a pair for R55 (E18). After trying them on and about to break the news of a successful sale to the shop assistant, Frog whipped out the cash and paid for them granting me an early birthday present. Damn, I should have picked the ones for R105 (E35).

Mar 31
Left Morro Sao Paulo this morning bound for Salvador again. There were 11 passengers on board and 3 of them were puking there guts up. It was hard not to laugh but fortunately for us we had got our sea legs after 8 days on water in the Gallapagos.
Tuesday night is a big party night in our suburb (Pelourgrino) of Salvador. We went out onto the streets and mingled with the throws of dancing tourists and locals drinking beer and following these gangs of roaming drummers through the streets. We then went to an open air concert with more of the same enthusiastic locals and tourists drinking and dancing.

01 Apr
We left Salvador late this afternoon for a bus to Lencois, 6 hours west away from the coast. I was not too sad to be leaving Salvador as the heat and humidity was very uncomfortable. Lying in bed at night with no covers and the sweat on your back would make the sheets stick while you turned over. Prickly heat rash is common where sweat cannot escape (eg: armpits, the folds of your knees and elbows etc) and unable to take off your tshirt because it stuck with sweat is another common one.
We got to Lencois in the welcome comfort of an air conditioned bus at about 10.30pm, not an ideal time to be arriving in a new place and set about trying to find the guide book reccommended hostel. The guide book map was wrong and we were wandering around these dark shanty town streets looking for our accommodation. Thankfully its a safe quiet spot and eventually found it. Many of the streets cant be navigated by anything else but by foot and were all uphill from the bus station, so we were completely knackered, carrying our 20kg backpacks, by the time we got there.

02 Apr
It was raining this morning so we abandoned our walking plans and spent the day exploring the town and the rock formations up river once the rain stopped. My flip flops, that I bought in Thailand, were worn down to nothing so I bought a pair of the local `Havianas´ flip flops, not that they will disguise me as anything else but a tourist but they were needed badly.

03 Apr
We went to the local school to do a days volunteers work. As its was a Friday, it was arts and crafts day so we were helping these kids (ages 9-12) with their painting. Of course they got on with it so we got ourselves some paper and brushes and started at it ourselves. Being the biggest kids at our table and once the boredom set in, I put paint on one of the girls hands for the craic. She painted me back and before we knew it paint was flying and WW3 broke out with the boys putting paint on the girls and vice versa. We stepped back and just as we did the teacher came in and sent 2 of the girls home for misbehaviour. Ooops! We were dying to laugh as these two young wans with paint on their faces, in their hair and clothes were marched out and fair play to them they never blamed anyone else.