Half an hour down the road, we stop and our coach load of people are all herded into a restaurant for lunch, which immediately reminds us why we hate package tours. I refuse to be one of the crowd (as has always been my problem, or at least one of them) and we head down to beach in search of something a little more authentic. 10 minutes later, we’re sitting in front of enough freshly grilled fish, salad and rice for four people (with a side dish of manioc flour, this being Brazil) for £11 and caiporoskas at £2 each to boot. As the tour group fight it out over who’s having the vegetable soup, we’ve got sand between our toes and a beautiful view of the sea with the mountains behind. It’s hard not to feel smug. The kids strip off and enjoy a post lunch dip and, just as I do the same, the storm clouds roll in and we’re left huddled under the umbrella, trying to avoid the rain. It’s still better than sitting in that restaurant.
It’s been a long day and we finally arrive back in Salvador to find some kind of carnival kicking off (there’s always some kind of carnival going on here. Any excuse for a party. Remind you of someone?!). Just as we’re all walking home, it seems everyone else is walking in the opposite direction TO the carnival. The kids are tucked up in bed, fast asleep by 9pm and there’s music coming from every direction outside. Ever feel like you’re missing out on something?
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