South of Porto Seguro . . . Trancoso and then . . .

The trip to Porto Seguro took about 30 hours although it should have been a much shorter ride thanks to our layover in Victoria, tons of laying around eating salgados, playing video games, and of course chess.
Porto Seguro was supposed to be our midpoint between Rio and a few wonderful places suggested to us by a local, but the cheap Internet, great all-you-can-eat-for-$4-spot , the beautiful coast of Arrial-dÁjuda across the bay, the beautiful artistry, the All Great Shopping District, and promise of dancing through the night kept us around for a few more days and nights than planned.

A two hour bus ride south would bring us to Trancoso, where we were supposed to meet Hidekel. With our luck, we walked into her the next morning . . . what a small world. Reunited and in full glory, Trancoso was a very tranquil hippie fishing town

where you can eat some fresh pineapple on the beach wheeled around by a donkey

or sit in and watch the sun come up over the Atlantic

The village of Trancoso was probably hit with heavy tourism in the last few years, still maintaining the rustic feel while acquiring a few expensive venues. All roads definitely lead to the church in the center of the car-less quadrado to this amazing little church overlooking the ocean

which proved to be an amazing place to see the sunrise...In fact, there where so many great pictures taken in Trancoso, that I had a hard time picking them out...so here are a few:

Trancoso also happened to be my sister´s last marker in Brazil, and her last night happened to fall on the local moon party!! With a fire to warm us up . . .
Live music on a stage you can lie down upon, cheap drinks, hammocks, and some great energy

we bid Zhenia a great farewell and a `´see you soon``

as she took a piece of the light with her and walked off in peace.
With the pressure of time upon us, we departed on our last venture south to a place I am not allowed to name . . . a small fishing village with no electricity nor tourists, which gave us a proper welcome.

If only we could have stayed longer and enjoyed the peaceful hikes around the coast and the energetic strumming of the locals by night some more . . . it will still be there for us . . . hopefully it will not change. . . for no other reason than fear, the name of this place will remain a secret.

Oh, and what do we have here? Sofka's dirtbag brother is down in Brazil. Figured he's worth a mention.

Peace!