But leave we must, and we eventually do, early on a morning that is pleasantly grey and cool. Spared of the tropical heat for a morning, perfect travelling conditions, we bid goodbye to Gi and the house of Paradise, and Oliven drives us to the pier. Then begins an Odyssey the likes of which we have never experienced before, and do not pln to do again soon. We discover how huge Brazil really is.
We take a two hour ferry across the bay to the biggest town in the local area. Camamu is still too small to offer many bus services, so we take a "short" ride north to Salvador, the capital of Bahia. Short turns out to mean 5 hours and when we arrive, we are not in the city but across another bay. So we board a ferry that takes us across to the city as the sun sets. Now it is dark and we are in a strange city and are nowhere near the bus terminal. An evil cap driver takes us there, and we find a bus down to Rio. BUt it is not until 7am, which means a 12 hour wait at the terminal (no point slogging across the city to a hostel and back). Delirious after so long with no sleep, and a strange eerie night in the almost vacant (save for cockroaches) terminal, we finally board our bus. 26 hours brings us to Rio. A long time, made worse by lack of communication (Portuguese is soo difficult) and lack of food. But we sleep long hours and eventually arrive, or so we think, in Rio. We ask the driver, he confirms, we get off. But it is not Rio. So back on another bus and finally after 4 more hours we arrie in RIO DE JANEIRO. We take a city bus across town and find a brilliant hostel and, 60 hours after setting out from the house in Bahia, we have arrived. The afternoon sours slightly when Casey´s credit card is stolen by an ATM at a vacant bank (sunday) and then a suspicious guy tries to get his pin number. So we are down to one credit card between us.

But the day improves finally as we sip Ciapirinhas and Brahmas at a cafe on Praia Cobacabana (the most sensuous beach in the universe) watching impressive soccer and volleyball games, and gorgeous people strutting along the sand. We eat bolinhos de bacalau (fried cod) and whitebait, and luxuriate in a truly amazing city. The hostel is brilliant, full of fun (english speaking, it has been a while...) people wo tell brilliant stories. We make friends, but collapse eventually, worn out by travel.