Paraty, Brazil: Humidity, History, and a Whole Lot of Cobblestones
okay, so paraty. it’s…a lot. i wasn’t really planning on brazil, honestly. a friend of a friend needed someone to housesit a ridiculously cute colonial place, and i figured, why not? i’m a *freelance photographer, always chasing the light, and apparently, paraty has light. a lot of it.
first impressions? sticky. seriously. i just checked and it’s…like wearing a warm, damp blanket all the time, which, honestly, isn’t the worst when you’re used to chasing light in iceland. the humidity is hovering around fifty-eight percent, feels like twenty-nine degrees celsius, and the air is thick enough to chew. the locals seem totally unfazed, though. they just…exist in it.
paraty itself is…well, it’s like someone took a postcard of a perfect colonial town and then just left it in the jungle to slowly be reclaimed. cobblestone streets everywhere - seriously, my ankles are screaming - colorful buildings, and a vibe that’s equal parts charming and slightly decaying. it’s beautiful, but it’s a working beautiful. not a sanitized, tourist-trap beautiful.
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“apparently, old man silva down by the harbor still swears he’s seen the ghost of a portuguese captain wandering the streets at night. says he’s looking for his lost treasure.”
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i spent yesterday wandering around, trying to get my bearings. the harbor is the heart of everything, obviously. boats everywhere, offering tours to the nearby islands. i overheard someone saying the tours to ilha grande are worth it, but that you should bring your own snacks because the food on the boats is “questionable.” i’m checking out reviews on TripAdvisor before i book anything.
my neighbors are…interesting. a mix of families who’ve lived here for generations and a surprising number of digital nomads. if you get bored, angra dos reis and são paulo are just a short bus ride away. i’ve been trying to practice my portuguese, but it’s going…slowly. mostly i just point and smile and hope for the best.
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“don’t eat the pastel from that guy near the church. trust me. just…don’t.”
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food-wise, i’ve been sticking to the moqueca (a seafood stew) and the pão de queijo (cheese bread). both are amazing. i found a little place called Casa do Pastel that someone recommended, but i’m still a little wary after the pastel warning. i’m also trying to find a good coffee shop. i’m a bit of a coffee snob, and i need my fix. i’ve heard good things about Café Pingoula, but haven’t made it there yet.
last night, i stumbled upon a live music performance in the square*. a local band playing some kind of samba-infused folk music. it was chaotic and wonderful. i’m trying to find out if they play regularly. i’m also looking for a good place to buy prints. i’m hoping to sell some of my photos while i’m here. you can check out my work on my website.
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“the best caipirinhas are made by old man joão. but you have to find him. he doesn’t have a shop. just…ask around.”
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so yeah, paraty. it’s messy, it’s humid, it’s full of cobblestones, and i think i’m starting to fall in love with it. i’ll keep you updated. maybe. if i can find a decent wifi connection.