Tranquility and recovery, kind of.

Trip Start Feb 07, 2006
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Trip End Aug 07, 2006


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Saturday, March 4, 2006



Make sure to check out Andrea's Travel Blog for more stories and photos of our trip!


We arrived in Floripa on an overnight bus to be greeted by Matheo, a nice older man who we had a hard time tracking down in the bus terminal.

Matheo spoke Spanish, a welcomed change from the usual Portuguese which we could hardly make out. He gladly chatted us up and drove us to the Pousada ( guest house ) which his family ran.

Leaving the hustle and bustle of Rio, the absolute quiet and peacefulness of Santinho, the east coast beach we were staying at, was a nice change.

Our room looked over sand dunes which protected the beach. Santinho was quiet, very quiet. Many of the other beaches on the Island buzzed with tourists, but not this one.

After dropping our bags and walking over the wild, grassy dunes, passed a pair of baby owls waiting for their mother, we fully appreciated just how untouristy this beach was. The dunes made a good job of isolating this beach and best of all there was no typical ¨beach strip¨ with shops and restaurants here.

Only a few locals who made the trekked over the dunes would find the Island`s surf, which all locals knew, was on the beach of Santinho.

We´d arrived only a few days after a major surf competition and it was clear from the locals walking around the back streets with surf boards in hand that this was a surf town. Hardly a touristy one but one which locals came to enjoy the non-stop volleys of waves crashing into the beach.

After the hustle and bustle of Rio, we needed this.

A little quiet, were we could get over our last tickle of sickness.

For the first few days, our time was spent on the beach, bussing into town to eat, snacking on ice cream and vegging out.

There really wasn´t much else to do in Santinho.

We were lucky enough to have a room with a view which looked out onto the dunes. Not quite high enough to see over the dunes onto the Altantic Ocean but the view teased the imagination by letting just enough ocean spray splash above the sand.

Two massive rocky hills surrounded the small beach and soared over the dunes at either end of the beach.

On our second night, a thunder storm roared as we wandered home after a tasty dinner of local corn-filled burgers and ice cream.

It poured as we ran back to our room soaking wet. Sitting on our balcony, we sat for what seemed to be hours as the lightning crashed over the Atlantic and thunder pounded around us. Although we couldn´t see the Ocean from our balcony, our front row seat of the storm was the best on the Island.

Luc & Andrea, The Surfistos

The next day we figured that we should do something touristy. We knew that Gustavo, Matheo´s son, gave surfing lessons so we thought we would give it a try. Surfing, unfortunately, didn´t come naturally, for me. I was a little cocky at first and made sure that Gustavo brought along a smaller freestyle board as well as the long beginner board he´d already taken out.

¨Mui difficile¨ Gustavo cautioned tapping his finger lazily on the smaller board.

Yeah yeah, how tough can it be I thought... later, as waves crashed into my body, tossing me around like a rag doll and I gulped down another large helping of sea water, I found out just how tough it was!

It only took about 30 minutes, after Andrea had already managed to stand up on the bigger board that I decided to switch from the small board to the easier and bigger one. One half bellyful of salt water later, I finally ¨got it¨. I managed to stand up and surf in on the massive buick-of-a-board while Andrea struggled with the more challenging smaller one having already conquered the big-board.

When we finished our lesson, Andrea walked over onto the beach and bent her head over to show me something.

¨Not the hospital, again.¨

It´s always hard to tell if Andrea is actually hurt. This time, she was. On the back of Andrea´s head a one inch gash was bleeding. It was hard to tell if it was a deep cut but the surf board´s fin had certainly made solid contact.

¨Is it deep?¨ she asked with a worried face.

We weren´t sure but headed back to the Poussada to clean up the wound.

When we returned Matheo saw the cut and his fatherly instinct sprang into action. He quickly jumped in his car and drove us to a small clinic. We were pretty sure it wasn´t serious but it couldn´t hurt to have it checked out.

After all, we didn`t think that my minor cold would end up by being pneumonia either!

The doctor´s cleaned up the cut and had us on our way. The cut was very small and a few swabs of disinfectant later, we headed back home where we added yet one more injury to the list.

We spent the rest of our stay in Santinho quietly enjoying the peaceful town and took yet another night bus, this time out of Brazil and into Uruguay.
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