Ouro Preto to Salvador, Day 9

The ever-helpful Ariadne organized a quiet but friendly driver and his van to get us back to the airport at Belo Horizonte (with quick stops to pick up Jeremy at his B&B and to allow Glenn and Dave to wrestle Andy’s baggage up the absurdly steep hill from her Airbnb). The drive was uneventful, if a bit rainy. I had the front seat and so had a depressingly good view of the highway retaining wall serving as the back wall of countless little shacks made of corrugated metal, big flattened cans and bottles, cardboard, scraps of wood and even a couple of shower curtains.

Yet more check in drama (we had several people on one reservation, which seemed to be endlessly flummoxing to Brazilian airline check-in kiosks), but our flight was on time and Mary had a tall, handsome Brazilian musician as a seat mate (sharing his earbuds, no less). Our next local guide, Sayuri, met us at the airport with another friendly but silent driver for the ride into Salvador. Our first look at the city included:

• A magnificent bamboo tunnel out of the airport, all festooned with colored lights

• Gorgeous glimpses of the ocean between a motley mix of skyscrapers and ornate old buildings

• An austere white fort with rounded walls and waving palm trees perched at the water’s edge looking like a million postcards

• A lake with huge, elaborately dressed human figures appearing to dance on its surface

• An immense, super high tech soccer stadium

• Hillsides covered with shabbily charming houses and small apartment buildings with lots of colorful laundry hanging here and there looking like another million postcards

• Something large fiercely on fire

• Lots and lots of people actively not noticing the large fiercely on fire thing

Sayuri gave us lots of narration about what we were seeing, and rattled off a slightly daunting stream of ideas, plans, interaries, suggestions, recommendations, reviews, tips, pointers, advice, cautions, directions, warnings and words to the wise as we navigated the complexities of Salvador’s neighborhoods to the Pelhourinho -- the oldest part of the city.

The van dropped us all in front of the Bahia Cafe Hotel where Mary, Andy and Glenn were staying for the Salvador stretch of the trip. It fronted a very lively square full of street performers, little stalls selling intriguing crafts and souvenirs, and a fountain lit with a rainbow of colors. Dave, Jeremy, Holly and I were staying a couple of blocks away in the pedestrian-only part of the Pelhourino so a pair of what an old novel would call likely lads helped us manage our bags through the narrow and extremely energetic streets to the Hotel Casa do Amarelindo, an absolutely amazingly lovely place smack in the middle of the chaos. It was almost weird how walking in the door of the hotel -- which fronted right into the street party -- created an immediate impression of calm and comfort.

We met our hosts, Giles and Didier, a pair of stylish gay French gentlemen with lots to tell us about the hotel and the neighborhood. (Immediate information overload is kind of a Brazil thing, we were learning -- each hotel check in included a massive data dump.) We had a tour of the hotel, which boasts a small but very appealing pool and a tiny rooftop bar with a great view of the harbor (and the cruise ships, we discovered the next morning when one the size of 6 city blocks had silently appeared overnight).

And oh, my -- the rooms! The bathroom was a work of art in tile, brass fixtures (including a waterfall shower that very nearly edged out Abbotsford for the world’s best) and fragrant local toiletries. A private balcony opened to another view of that lovely harbor. And what Jeremy dubbed the thruple bed filled room, comprised of what appeared to be two king-sized mattresses made up with a single set of absurdly wide bedding plus about 40 pillows. Even Holly dubbed it five-star and she doesn’t toss her stars around.

Andy, Mary and Glenn joined us at Amarelindo (where we tried really hard not to gloat) and we spent a very pleasant hour enjoying our complimentary caipirinhas and discounted snacks at the rooftop bar and then had dinner at the hotel’s exceptionally pretty but not entirely successful restaurant (let’s just say they do better breakfast and bar snacks than dinner). Then off to get lost in bed.