Abrams Family World Travel

Boipeba: Island Retreat

WE had been told about a little island paradise just off the mainland from Valença called Boipeba. All our friends that had made the journey there came back to Piracanga with a sparkle in their eye.

What was so magical about this place with 300 inhabitants? Could it be because it is a well-known ecological haven that houses a diverse aray of flora and fauna? Or possibly the tranquil beaches created by the surrounding reefs?

We had to find out for ourselves.

Getting to Boipeba from Itacare was fairly straightforward. Buses leave from Itacare every hour for Valença. Journey time is around 2 1/2-3 hours. Then once in Valença, you have to make your way to the Terminal Hidroviario. Take a taxi from bus station for R12, but it's walkable if you don't have mountains of luggage, taking around 10-15 minutes on foot.

There are two options by boat to Boipeba island - fast and slow. We opted for the quick route (one hour journey time) at a cost of R35 per adult. It can get a little chilly (with the wind) and choppy (depending on your driver).

There are lots of options for places to stay. Pousadas are everywhere. But if you're vegan, like us, we'd recommend you get a place with a kitchen. Eating out can be a problem off-season, but even when most restaurants are closed there are still options - more so in the evening when the acaraje (falafel-type fried balls made from black-eyed bean paste) and tapioca stands open for business.

Of course, the real attraction of this island is the beaches - and there are plenty. The water is shallow (great for children) and the sand clean.

Morere: Heaven On Earth?

SEVERAL friends of ours had described this place as "the most beautiful they had ever visited." While it's obviously a special spot on the island, we wouldn't go so far as to hand it such a lofty status.

Perhaps it didn't help going off-season, but one of our aforementioned friends had visited only a few weeks before us and was blown away.

The weather for our stay was, admittedly, not great for beach life. Most of the restaurants were closed, giving it a sort of abandoned feeling. Getting food produce (for those, like us, choosing the self-catering option) is fairly limited. You have to buy in Boipeba and bring it with you on the tractor or horse and cart, which is the only way to reach this part of the island without walking about 6.5km around the coast or 4.8km across from Boipeba centre.

To catch the transport requires a walk of around 1km. It's not signposted, so be prepared to ask several times. People are very friendly and will point you in the right direction.

Close to the tractor stop is a grocery store and, believe it or not, a type of health food shop (basic, but good). There are some bars etc also.

The journey is bumpy by horse and cart and there's no shelter should it rain. It's a slow trek and the poor horse works his butt off trudging through the sand, especially when going downhill.

In Morere there are several pousadas with kitchens, but most come without. We found the rates, by Brazilian standards, quite high. For instance, we were being asked to pay around R120 per night. In Boipeba the going rate was roughly half that. It seemed the owners would prefer their accommodation empty rather than have someone stay for a reduced fee.

The attraction, of course, is the long stretch of beaches. There are some rocky parts, but it is mostly sand and the water very clear and shallow, perfect for young children.

 

Boipeba: Conch Shell Fun And Fascination

For Zenchai the highlight of our stay in Boipeba was him finding conch shells. He was so proud of himself and, after a visit to a bone museum in Boipeba town, Zenchai became fascinated by how you could hear the ocean when holding the shell to your ear.

He even invented a Conch shell-catcher (picture below with what looks like a long branch). He used it to scoop conch shells out of the water and reckoned it could even detect conch shells.

When Zenchai scooped out of the water his first conch shell, a large white one, the look on his face was like he had been handed the keys to a bright red Ferrari and been told it's his to keep. Although Zenchai reached down into the shallow water to retrieve it, in his mind he had dived deeply. He felt so proud.

Zenchai didn't stop talking about it the rest of the day.

Zenchai said, "When I next get invited to a birthday party I'm going to strap all my conch shells to my shorts with cello tape so everyone can hear the sound of the ocean and wonder where it's coming from." That did make me laugh, even if Z was being serious.

Always coming up with ideas, Zenchai said he would open a sand-dollar museum and put all his conch shells in there.

¨Conch shells are more valuable to me than gold,¨he said.

Later that evening and holding a conch shell to each ear, Zenchai said he was ¨listening to his ipod.¨

Zenchai told me that when you listen to the conch shell it tells you the conversation you had on the beach.

The truth is that the shell doesn't actually hold the sound of the ocean, but telling Zenchai that would be like blowing the lid on the Santa Claus myth.

What it does is resonate the sounds you hear around you. Because of its shape, each shell produces different sounds. Also, these shells are made from a build-up of calcium carbonate (which also makes hard water), usually reaching its maximum size after about three years.

When we got to Itacare (on the way home), I noticed Zenchai's bag of shells moving on top of our wardrobe. We took them out of the room, placed all the shells on the table and waited until something happened. Sure enough, some legs poked out of one of the shells. Zenchai stepped back, feeling afraid.

We did the right thing, though, by returning it to the ocean, though a long way from its original home.

 

Piracanga: Life Outside Of The Mosquito Net

IT seems hard for me to imagine that today I will be experiencing life outside of the mosquito net, leaving Piracanga - my home for the last nine months - and entering the realm of the outside world.

Admittedly, I have been ready to move on for quite some time. The basic and remote living conditions have worn away at me. As much as I would like to say I am above creature comforts and a total trooper, I would be lying if I did. By blood, I am still a westerner and with that comes certain desires. 

I also wish I could say my time in Piracanga was a blissful one, but being here has twisted and turned me inside out several times over.

When we first arrived here so many people talked about the powerful energy of the place. I was quite cynical and thought, 'Come on, this is no different to any other beachy place'. I can now scoff at my own naivety. 

Piracanga has plenty of beauty - river, ocean, beach, nature and, most of all, the people that live and visit here.

But in Piracanga there is no escape or distraction. You are constantly being held in front of a mirror, pushing you to examine every nook and cranny of your being.

While I am all for introspection and self-growth, there comes a point where the mirror needs to be momentarily put down and you can get comfortable with yourself again before continuing your process.

I had a small glimpse of this on our recent family break to Boipeba (blogs to follow).

Within a day of returning, though, I could see clearly how much my time in Piracanga had been a gift.

As a family we've had a lot of low points. However, it's been a huge learning curve on every level: mentally, physically and spiritually.

Leaving Piracanga today leaves me with mixed emotions. This is the birthplace of my gorgeous daughter, home to many beautiful people I call my friends and the place where my son associates the word 'home' with.

I have many inner tugs to Piracanga and Brazil. But my 'homesick' side is pulling me out from underneath my mosquito net, asking to be in the embrace of my beloved family and friends in London.

Am I ready for the comfortable beds, whatever food item takes my fancy and the security of familiarity? Yes.

I'm not ready for the culture shock, noise, commercialism and concrete. So on that bittersweet note I head back to England solo with the kids in tow.

 

Brazil: More Police Federal Fun And Games

WE thought we had seen the last of Policia Federal in Ilheus. But no such luck. We needed a passport for Kobra as Jamie and the kids are on their way to England for Christmas to see friends and family (I will follow later).

Being born in Brazil makes Kobra entitled to a Brazilian passport. It's easier (from Brazil) than applying for a British one (which would entail mailing the original birth certificate to the British Consulate in Rio De Janeiro, getting a British one and then mailing it to Washington DC for processing and waiting for goodness knows how long for it to return).

We shall apply for Kobra's British when we are in England. It's simpler that way. In the meantime we applied for the Brazilian online. This involved entering all the essential information and receiving an appointment date at Police Federal in Ilheus.

Our appointment was confirmed. We printed it off and then waited for the day. We had a plan, which involved entering our paperwork, returning to Itacare by bus and then, the next day, going by bus to beautiful Boipeba for a small family break.

So when we arrived in Itacare on the morning of our appointment, we booked ourselves into a pousada/guesthouse (we opted for the Piracanga Pousada on the small square), left our bags and computer and then took the bus to Ilheus for the 2.45pm appointment.

Arriving well in time (the bus journey is about two hours, but fairly smooth), we had some lunch first, took a taxi to Police Federal and then the fun started, as usual.

We were told that the appointment venue had been changed and then to go to SAC in the centre where Police Federal now has a passport office. No-one had warned or told us.

We walked to the nearby bus terminal, took a taxi back to Ilheus centre (about R15 or £7) and found the SAC building. 

Immediately, we handed in our papers. But shortly after, an officer (the first friendly one we had encountered) gave us some bad news. Talking in Portuguese, he said something to the effect of "Doesn't look too good right now. If you [two] were Brazilian it wouldn't be a problem. But as it is, it's going to be complicated."

He disappeared back into the office. Zenchai played in the dirt with his cars. Jamie and I looked at each other almost in disbelief. Jamie was ready to scream!

Some time later a more senior officer, who looked at you over his glasses whenever he spoke, came out. Again, talking in fast Portuguese and sounding rude, he said he couldn't process the application. We weren't clear why.

His friendlier colleague came out to explain further, telling us we needed to come again the next morning (8am).

'YOU MUST BE JOKING' were the words ringing in my head.

We contemplated getting a bus back to Itacare, where all our belongings were, or staying the night in Ilheus.

After calculating the costs - and inconvenience - we opted to stay in Ilheus. The expense of staying one night added up to the same to travelling to Itacare and back the next day. Nice 'pousadas' are hard to find in Ilheus, though. We searched and got one that was (barely) acceptable. 

It meant, though, that we were paying for three places to stay on one night (remember, we are also renting a house in Piracanga)!

Up in time for breakfast, we then made our way to Police Federal again. Jamie tried to adopt a more positive attitude. I did the same. 

What could be the problem? We'd spoken to people who'd successfully applied. We'd had two Brazilians read the 'necessary documents' page on the government website. We felt prepared.

We were positive, but I also was ready for anything. Never take anything for granted. This was Police Federal after all. 

Jamie and I looked at each other when we presented our documents to an officer who had turned us away several months ago when we tried for temporary residency. Bad sign?

He came out several minutes later and, in his high-pitched voice, explained to us he could start the process and have a passport issued, but that we would need to go to the other Police Federal to make and sign a declaration.

We groaned, but accepted.

The passport would be ready for collection after eight working days and only one of the parents (provided he or she has the child's birth certificate and his or her passport) needed to pick it up. 

Quickly, we took a taxi to Police Federal (again). We had a bus to catch to Itacare. We asked for the relevant officer before Jamie was taken to an office. Zenchai and I waited. It took more than an hour. Zenchai was getting hungry. I could hear Kobra becoming restless.

Then it was my turn. We were asked all sorts of questions about our visit and stay in Brazil and then told to sign a statement. We also were issued with another fine - the maximum one (over R800 each) - for overstaying our visa.

The officer explained that we would have to pay it when next entering Brazil, but we couldn't return until next January (2012), a year since we last entered the country.

Once finished, we left Police Federal (hopefully for the final time) and walked to the bus station, luckily in time to catch our ride to Itacare, which leaves every hour.

Relieved, we got to Itacare and decided to stay the night before, finally, heading to Boipeba.