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Our original plan to head to Florianopolis was scrapped at the last minute and in our typical laid back style (we like to think we've adapted to the South American attitude rather well) we took a cab
over the Argy - Brazil border to the airport at Foz in the hope to finding a flight to Salvador in Bahia. Four hours later we were winging our way to the Coconut Coast.
Anxiety started to set in as we sat in the cab on our way to Salvador centre. The contrast from the cosmopolitan, European Argentina had obviously softened us. Little did we realise but we had
arrived smack bang in the middle of the Afro-Brazilian music festival. Our driver was forced to take some dodgy looking back streets, which didn't look at all welcoming in the dark, to get past all
the raucous intimidating revellers. Wishing we'd booked a room in advance as we didn't fancy wandering the streets at this time of night with all our gear we settled for a dorm for that night. We
ventured out into the lively narrow streets throbbing to the sound of all the Reggae beats and soon relaxed into the festival atmosphere. We didn't stray too far from the hostel though!
In the morning the city had taken on a new face and the cobbled winding streets lined with crumbling colonial architecture put us in mind of Ecuador and Peru all those months previously. Our only
problem now was the language and as we stumbled, mumbled, pointed and gesticulated our way around the old town we decided to stick to our Spanglish, at least they sort of understood us. It wasn't
long before we came across a demonstration of Capoeira. Fascinating to watch as they twist and twirl to the beats of the drums. We headed over to the city lift that dropped us the 100 feet or so down
onto the port area with views over the old patchwork of tower blocks between derelict one storey dwellings. Passing through the lively city market we lunched on Carne do Sol overlooking the port with
its tiny fishing boats moored amongst tall masted racing catamarans. The rain came in and we left the kids showing off their diving skills from the port side and headed back to the hostel. As the sun
went down the carnival frenzy intensified and the streets and squares filled with drumming bands and people dancing to the infectious Brazilian beats. Immersing ourselves further into Bahian life we
dined on traditional Moqueca, prawns in a coconut and palm oil sauce with rice, farofa and beans (delicious!), accompanied by our first authentic Brazilian caipirinhas.
Brazil is so different to Argentina and we loved it instantly. We both felt a rush of excitement thinking about what was to come in the next few weeks ahead.
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