I think the title pretty much sums it up.
Mia is gone. I am still here. The two-person tent is sleeping only one. My sentences are singular instead of plural. The two tall, blonde American girls who have traversed Spain, Ireland, Italy, and Brazil together have once again disbanded.
And I have started talking to my hackey sack.
Just every now and then. For a bit of companionship.
Mia decided she was leaving about two weeks ago and then flew home on Tuesday. Her decision was prompted by a few different factors, namely finances, family, and an incessant tendency towards spontaneity — a tendency most prominent in the early morning hours, post Carnatal. Ahem.
If I had to describe my condition in the wake of her departure, it would be HOT MESS.
Like a blubbering, teary eyed hot mess.
To the point where I contemplated making a photo montage — complete with cheesy background music — documenting our three month adventure together until I realized 1. I don’t know how to make a photo montage, and 2. No matter how emotionally wrecked I may be, I’m really not the kind of person who would ever make a photo montage.
Basically, I missed my friend.
But things are looking up. I subsequently left Natal and hopped on a bus 13 hours north to Jericoacoara.
Though relatively comfortable, the ride is quite bumpy and thus I would advise against consuming a vast amount of liquid immediately beforehand. I, unfortunately, had no one to offer me that helpful hint.
Jeri was founded as a fisherman village, but has evolved into a hippy kitesurfing paradise over the last 20 years. There are no ATMs, the electricity is very volatile, meandering donkeys are as common as stray dogs, and the streets are all made of sand.
Which sounds rather picturesque and romantic, but gets real annoying right quick as it’s exhausting trudging around in the sand all the time. Even some of the overpriced boutiques have sand in their shops rather than a proper floor, which I initially found rather gimmicky, though on second thought have decided it to be most practical.
Jeri is a bit of an odd mix of expensive shops and luxury pousadas combined with stoney dreadymons and rugged backcountry living. Merchandise and things like kitesurfing lessons are wildly expensive, but at the same time I’m also able to gorge on a massive dinner made by a little old woman who cooks all day and then sells huge plates of food from a stand for $4.
Every evening tons of people climb up to the top of the giant sand dune adjacent to the main beach to watch the sunset. It’s the only place in Brazil where you can watch the sun fall into the ocean.
Ultimately, I’m really really pleased with my decision to come to Jeri, but after 4 nights I’m ready to leave as there’s really not much going on here unless 1. you kitesurf, 2. you windsurf, or 3. you’re looking to smoke a bunch of weed and do nothing all day.
Right now I’m about to begin my journey south to Salvador, Morro de Sao Paolo, and Itacare. Three places I’m very excited to visit…though nothing compares to my excitement about seeing BETHY “HO HO” HOCHSTETLER IN 4 DAYS!!!
Until then, cheers!
PS. Do me a favor and harass Mia into coming back to Brazil.