After surviving the torment of a 14 hour night bus, with an extremely loud dvd of some Brazillian brothers bent on murdering every good English song of the last 40 years, I arrived in Praia de Pipa. Pipa is a tiny coastal town filled with sun, sea and sand and many a drunk local! The difficulty is that Pipa is entirely at the mercy of the tides, which can swiftly strand you on a little sand island until a local boy with a raft comes to rescue you!

This place is a surfing mecca. Unfortunately to get to the ultimate surfing beach where the occasional dolphin can be seen skimming in the crest of a wave (absolutely gutted Rub saw one and not me!) you have to navigate through what Marianne (my Swiss travelling companion) and I like to call the ´jagged rocks of death´. THe Kiwi really put us to shame and practically sprinted across (with all our bags) leaving us slipping and scrambling in her wake. We managed to make it all in one piece after a good half an hour of her sunbathing on the other side. Im afraid we let down the European side . All the blood, sweat and tears was worth it though as the setting with its leaning palm trees, soft white sand and surf dudes everywhere = absolute heaven!!!

The next day we embarked on a kayaking adventure along the coast until we cut in to try and slalom through a maze of mangroves. Needless to say, some of us were more successful than others! I may have sustained some slight head injuries thanks to some wayward branches but I maintain they got in my way and not the other way around! The mangroves creep with the scuttling of loads of tiny little crabs which seem to peer at you from the branches. Thankfully the huge crush I had on our kayak instructor meant I endeavoured not to capsize - a huge plus when you consider that my usually irrational fear of crocodiles and sharks is an actual concern in these parts!

Another danger to be dodged in Pipa seems to be severely pissed cowboys. There we were enjoying a lovely meal at a local restaurant when this truck passes up and a man in a cowboy hat lets rip with a rasping bellowing growl in Spanish. Suddenly the waiter rushes to the back of the bar and produces a double shot of tequila. Mr Cowboy downs it with a bellowing laugh and then drives off in his car 10ft down the road to the next bar, pedestrians diving out of his way! This continued for the rest of the night until he drove home at 2am bouncing off the kerbs and any unfortunate livestock that got in his way!!!!!

Our next destination was: Jerichoaqoa.

WOAH! As soon as you get onto the giant truck that drives you over the sand dunes and along the beach to get to Jeri, you realise that this place is a bit special. It is a tiny fishing village that is completely cut off from the mainland for a majority of the day because of the tides.

Cows and donkeys have free reign and just amble through the centre of the village as if they are doing a spot of window shopping! There are no roads just sandy tracks, which means everyone gets around on horses or sand buggies (Challenge Anneka!). All of the houses are made from red breeze blocks; the fronts are painted in really bright colours because they can´t afford to paint the whole building! Reggae and Brazillian Jack Johnsonesque music permeates through the whole village; the odd rastafarian sells jewellery on the beach. Despite being absolutely encompassed with sand the trees they have dotted around the place are full of vibrant coloured flowers (orange and purple) which scatter on the floor and blow about in the strong breeze that comes off the sea.

The wind here is so powerful that Jeri specialises in kite surfing. It is amazing to watch because the surfers seem to power up from the wave and then suddenly launch off like little rockets, reaching up to 7ft in the air!

In the afternoon, the huge sand dune that towered above our hotel was the perfect place to watch the sunset over the sea - check out my pictures.

To leave Jeri we had to get on a jeep and cross this lagoon on a tiny barge/raft. I don´t know how the hell they managed it. I admit I was dubious that we would make it; especially when the water started to dribble onboard. But these two little guys with 10ft poles rowed and steered us across a 1km wide lagoon. Good effort i say!

At the moment I am in the middle of nowhere. Just in case you hadn´t realised nowhere is a place called Tutoia. Hence my mammoth blog. There are mosquitos in Tutoia. There is a fish market in Tutoia. There is some pretty horrendous grey stuff they call food in Tutoia. At present Tutoia is subjecting me to the most awful Brazillian music I have ever heard - think of the worst people on pop idol and add a lil bit of latin american spice and you will have some comprehension of the pain my ears are being put through.

Anyways..................... hope you are all well and please have a big cup of English tea on my behalf!

xxxxxx