Nothing Says Adventure Like Imodium and a 7-Hour Bus
From a surprisingly atmospheric work week in Fortaleza to a slightly risky ride into the dunes
There’s a particular kind of optimism required to board a 7-hour bus through the Brazilian northeast when you’ve spent the last 24 hours surviving on sips of water and blind faith in Imodium.
It’s the kind that hopes desperately that binge watching Bridgerton episodes will distract you. The kind that hopes the air con is strong…
And the kind that ignores the fact that the last 90 minutes of this journey involves a 4x4 bouncing across open sand dunes to reach a village with no paved roads. 😳
I am currently that optimist.
We’re leaving Fortaleza this morning, heading for Jericoacoara, or ‘Jeri’, as everyone calls it, because life is too short to keep pronouncing 6 syllables when 2 will do.
It’s a tiny beach town on Brazil’s northern coast, tucked behind dunes, only reachable by off-road vehicle, and somewhere that people either rave about or have never heard of. (I’m the latter, looking forward to being the former!)
But before we go there, let’s me tell you about..
The Fortaleza Surprise
The past week has been a work week. As nomadic solopreneurs, we’re still working on the whole travel/work balancing act, and desperately needed a few days catch up.
We chose Fortaleza as our mission base and flew up a few days ago from Salvador.
I’ll be honest. I’d written Fortaleza off before we arrived. Everything I’d read made it sound like a concrete sprawl with a beach attached. A city you pass through on the way to somewhere more interesting.
I was wrong.
Fortaleza has a full 34 kilometres of coastline!
The beaches are enormous.
They feel like you could walk for 20 minutes and still not reach the water’s edge at low tide.
The ocean is warm, and in the evenings, the promenade along Praia de Iracema comes alive in a way that made me fall for the place almost immediately.
Market stalls and food vendors and little plastic tables outside restaurants where people sit drinking ice-cold beer and eating grilled fish while someone plays guitar on a corner. Kids running around. Couples walking. Old men arguing about football.
The whole lovely, chaotic theatre of Brazilian street life happening in every direction.
We found a little apartment just off the main stretch with beach views (almost!) and settled in for a productive week.
And it was, mostly. Right up until my stomach staged a mutiny.
The Apartment Revelation
I should say something about the apartment, because I’ve had a bit of an accommodation conversion happening on this trip.
I am a hotel person. I have always been a hotel person. I like someone else making the bed. I like not having to think about where the nearest supermarket is. I like breakfast appearing without effort. I like the fact that when something breaks, you ring a desk and someone else deals with it. (Yes, I am totally spoilt!)
Hotels remove friction from travel, and when you spend your life living out of a suitcase you come to appreciate anything that removes friction.
But we’re now on our second Brazilian apartment and they’re super convenient & great value.
This one in Fortaleza has been clean, well-equipped, had a nice balcony (I do like a balcony) a proper kitchen and a laundry room in the building.
When you’re living out of a carry-on bag for weeks at a stretch, the ability to wash everything and start fresh is borderline life-changing. You stop doing that grim mental calculation of “can I get one more day out of this t-shirt” and just throw it all in.
(NB: For the most part here in Brazil, detergents are injected automatically into the wash which is extremely handy!)
It’s so funny how the smallest things become the most liberating!
The kitchen also means you can keep costs down on the days when you don’t want to eat out. Which, when your body has decided that food is the enemy and water is merely tolerated, turns out to be quite useful.
What Doesn’t Kill You
The stomach bug arrived yesterday on our last day. I have no idea where from. Rhett & I ate the same foods the day before and if anything was awry it’s usually him that succumbs.
I, very luckily, have been gifted with the digestive system of a mountain goat, so an episode like this is very unusual for me.
Anyway. At least the buses here are super comfy (that’s until we board the bone shaker into town).
The Road Ahead
Jeri is the first stop on what’s shaping up to be one of the more ambitious stretches of this trip.
From there, we’re working our way along Brazil’s northern coast towards Lençóis Maranhenses, which is a national park full of freshwater lagoons sitting between sand dunes.
It looks like someone photoshopped a desert and a swimming pool together. I can’t wait to see it for myself! (Pics to follow)
Then on to Belém, and from Belém we fly to Manaus. The Amazon.
That’s the plan, anyway. Plans in Brazil tend to be more like suggestions. Buses get cancelled. Roads flood. Your stomach rebels. You learn to think in loose terms.
But right now, I’m packed. The Imodium is packed. My optimism, battered but intact, is packed.
Wish me luck with that 4x4. 😳😂
Good luck!
Hope you survived the journey and are feeling a little better! 🥰