Praia do Forte, Brazil
What a difference a day makes. Blazing sunshine greets us after yesterday afternoon's grey skies and an early morning run reveals a beautiful endless beach, fringed with pretty villas and coconut palms.
After breakfast we pack a day bag and head to the beach, grabbing a tranquil spot with an umbrella and deck chairs and a nearby coconut seller who also provides ice cold beers on a regular basis.
The tide is far, far out revealing vast rock pools that are perfect to lounge in, the waters as warm as a bath. I go for a walk across golden sands past pockets of sun bathers lying in the shallows, many with parasols and cool buckets of beers floating beside them.
The sun is ferocious and despite spending pretty much the whole day in the shade of our huge umbrella, covered head to toe in the thick factor 50 protection, we both have a couple of patches of vivid sunburn later.
By lunchtime the beach starts noticeably emptying. The Easter holiday in Brazil starts on Thursday, rather than Good Friday, with everyone returning to work on the Monday, so the mass exodus of tourists occurs on Easter Sunday. By the time we wander back to our hotel - prompted partly by a horse trotting past and leaving an enormous, steaming, stinking present right beside us - the heaving insanity of last night has evaporated leaving Praio do Forte as the tranquil idyll we had hoped for.
Our hotel is also a chill-out haven, with just a few holiday-makers relaxing in the pool sipping cocktails. The one noticeable exception is a woman in her fifties pouring herself huge glasses of wine from her very own ice bucket on the side of the pool. She is quite obviously a long-time lush and ****** as a ****. After a while she starts blowing bubbles in the water of the pool, oblivious to anyone else, at which point her long-suffering husband decides he had better join her, presumably to stop her drowning!
That evening, the village is transformed. Charming and peaceful we have our choice of restaurants, and are able to explore the little boutiques which were mobbed the night before. We eat pasta at Taverna Paradiso, the rich red tomato sauces matching the sunburnt forehead and nose we respectively sport. In fact, it's almost as though Coman has mixed up his holidays and become an Easter Rudolph so brightly does he glow.
At breakfast the next morning we spot lemurs in the garden's trees and hummingbirds and butterflies flitting from flower to flower. It's so peaceful we spend the morning relaxing in the hotel grounds only wandering into the village, via the lagoon, to have a late lunch before Marcus returns to transfer us to the airport.
Bahia, you've been glorious. Next stop, Rio!!!
