Onto the next hostel


Given the unexpected expense of getting to Jeri we decided to save some pennies and sleep at Fortaleza airport given the 10 hour gap between arriving by coach at 10 pm to our flight leaving at 8am the next day.

If I wasn’t a true backpacker up until now, I can safely say that I am now…having set up camp on the floor in the corner of the observation floor ready to sleep on my backpack I woke up with the harsh reality of being face down on the granite floor with a pain to my jaw that felt like one of the strange plane watchers had tried to rob me in my sleep!

Having woken after only 2 hours of sleep I found it hard to get comfortable on the floor so decided to solider through and listen to music, the same can not be said for Andre!

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Once in Salvador we had to get what ended being nearly a 2 hour bus ride into the centre where we were staying. Given the number of hours I had been awake I managed to finish the only book I brought with me…(marching powder by Rusty Young…a great read) and so read the Lonely planet section on Salvador twice which has over 3 pages on dangers and annoyances! T

This has to be the most sketchy place I have been to date with armed police at most main corners and eyes from locals that seem to follow you where ever you go. With this in mind I decided to put my handy ‘fanny pack’ to good use hiding all our passports and money inside my shorts. Given the 32 degrees heat and the quick walking to the hostel from the bus stop this great purchase failed me at the first hurdle; having come loose, beginning to fall out the bottom of my shorts.

This combined with my already panicked state of mind lead to a fair amount of friction and that’s just between me and Andre given that he refused to stop whilst I tried to rearrange. To make matters worse I left it to Andre to navigate us to the hostel whilst I hobbled along with my hand down my pants only to realise that all of a sudden the road just became quite and Andre was already ten steps ahead.

At this point the paragraph in the lonely planet warning us not to go off the beaten track down what are called laderia’s (or steep roads down to the lower section of the city) started to come into my mind…it became a reality when an elderly local walking in the opposite direction looked right into my eyes making the no no signal with his fingers.

If my undergarments weren’t already experiencing enough issues they were now as I complete shit myself and turned around to run back to the main road shouting for Andre to do the same.

At this point it was everyone for themselves…although Andre manage to catch up very quickly.

Suffice to say we made it to the hostel in one piece albeit somewhat touchy.

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By garyabela Posted in Brazil

One comment on “Onto the next hostel

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