Paraty
There should be photos here but I have to transfer photos from the camera to the tablet and this is proving slower than I thought. They will appear eventually so please check back later.
I awoke to silence and sunlight and breakfasted on bread, cheese and ham and black coffee. The location was so quiet, just the occasional barking dog.
Paraty was about 5 Kms distant and the streets were laid out in a grid. Driving deeper into the historical area of the town the road surface changed, not to cobbles, but slabs of irregular shaped stones. Slowing to walking pace I compared my car to a small boat in the middle of an Atlantic storm.
I was fascinated. Stone roads with houses painted in different colours. Shops selling hand made products, not the usual tourist orientated trash. The people were so friendly.
Paraty was a port used for the transport of gold and constructed by slave labour. The gold was brought to the town in horse drawn wagons and carts. Horses being horses would urinate and defecate in the road leaving a stench and create health hazards in the Brazilian heat. Because of this the houses were built slightly higher than street level and designed so the incoming tide would wash the streets clean. It's a fascination imaging place and one that I would like to return to.
Restaurant prices in the historic zone were not bad given the exchange rate of around 4 Reais to the pound. Menu prices varied between Rsm50 to Rs70 but I wanted to eat like a Brazilian and walked to an area away from the historic zone. A lot of restaurants are self service and show a price outside which is per kg. There must have been at least 30 choices. I chose two types of bean dishes, braxilian staples, one that I later found out contained tripe, Farrofa,, made from the root of mandioca, rice, and vegetables. Including a can of Fanta my bill came to Rs18. £4.50.
I would have loved a beer but Brazilian driving law and alcohol is zero tolerance. So I visited a supermarket and bought some beers and wine to drink at home, along with bread, cheese, coffee etc. I looked at the wines on offer and picked up a bottle of red wine marked suave. In Portuguese it means smooth or gentle but on arriving home and opening the bottle I discovered it meant sweet. It wasn't at all pleasant but I was damned if I was going to pour it down the drain. I put it in the fridge and the coldness took away some of the unpleasant taste.
It was so peaceful where I was staying. I heard the occasional car but that was it. I had been advised of a nearby waterfall within walking distance so set off to find it. On the way I came across a man and his son sieving a grey material which I later found out was a type of cement. I continued walking but I couldn't find anything so retraced. I asked about the waterfall and was told that it was practically dry. Sidney asked his son Jefferson to show us the course of the falls from below. On our return I asked about the various trees. I knew the bananeira which isn't native to Brazil and he proceeded to remove cacão (from which comes chocolate), mangos, and mamão (papaya)u-. Smashing a cacão against a tree he showed me the nibs (seeds covered in a milky white substance) which were quite sweet to taste. But he advised against biting into the nib as it was quite bitter. Later I would see this roasted in an oven and taste the raw, dark and bitter chocolate that lay within.
I was then invited to his house where he introduced me to his wife, Lucia and showed me with pride his home made oven fired by wood. He had so little but was prepared to share with me. I felt quite humble.
I awoke to silence and sunlight and breakfasted on bread, cheese and ham and black coffee. The location was so quiet, just the occasional barking dog.
Paraty was about 5 Kms distant and the streets were laid out in a grid. Driving deeper into the historical area of the town the road surface changed, not to cobbles, but slabs of irregular shaped stones. Slowing to walking pace I compared my car to a small boat in the middle of an Atlantic storm.
I was fascinated. Stone roads with houses painted in different colours. Shops selling hand made products, not the usual tourist orientated trash. The people were so friendly.
Paraty was a port used for the transport of gold and constructed by slave labour. The gold was brought to the town in horse drawn wagons and carts. Horses being horses would urinate and defecate in the road leaving a stench and create health hazards in the Brazilian heat. Because of this the houses were built slightly higher than street level and designed so the incoming tide would wash the streets clean. It's a fascination imaging place and one that I would like to return to.
Restaurant prices in the historic zone were not bad given the exchange rate of around 4 Reais to the pound. Menu prices varied between Rsm50 to Rs70 but I wanted to eat like a Brazilian and walked to an area away from the historic zone. A lot of restaurants are self service and show a price outside which is per kg. There must have been at least 30 choices. I chose two types of bean dishes, braxilian staples, one that I later found out contained tripe, Farrofa,, made from the root of mandioca, rice, and vegetables. Including a can of Fanta my bill came to Rs18. £4.50.
I would have loved a beer but Brazilian driving law and alcohol is zero tolerance. So I visited a supermarket and bought some beers and wine to drink at home, along with bread, cheese, coffee etc. I looked at the wines on offer and picked up a bottle of red wine marked suave. In Portuguese it means smooth or gentle but on arriving home and opening the bottle I discovered it meant sweet. It wasn't at all pleasant but I was damned if I was going to pour it down the drain. I put it in the fridge and the coldness took away some of the unpleasant taste.
It was so peaceful where I was staying. I heard the occasional car but that was it. I had been advised of a nearby waterfall within walking distance so set off to find it. On the way I came across a man and his son sieving a grey material which I later found out was a type of cement. I continued walking but I couldn't find anything so retraced. I asked about the waterfall and was told that it was practically dry. Sidney asked his son Jefferson to show us the course of the falls from below. On our return I asked about the various trees. I knew the bananeira which isn't native to Brazil and he proceeded to remove cacão (from which comes chocolate), mangos, and mamão (papaya)u-. Smashing a cacão against a tree he showed me the nibs (seeds covered in a milky white substance) which were quite sweet to taste. But he advised against biting into the nib as it was quite bitter. Later I would see this roasted in an oven and taste the raw, dark and bitter chocolate that lay within.
I was then invited to his house where he introduced me to his wife, Lucia and showed me with pride his home made oven fired by wood. He had so little but was prepared to share with me. I felt quite humble.
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