We crawled into Bulouz and dispersed around to nap in various places. Later, after milling around in Bulouz for a while, wandering up and down the beach and slurping down a few beers and shrimps, we decided to go to Praia de Pipa, the agreed destination for the evening. This holiday really has become a journey, we're constantly on the moce, flitting round towns, sleeping cheap and shifting out.
Took a bit of a risk and decided to let the car tyres down and drive the beach way, chopping a ninety kilometre drive down to twenty or so. Most people pay a local with experience to drive for them but in Rafa we had the next best thing so we decided to just go for it. Getting onto the beach was a bit of a struggle and took a few attempts. Basically Raphael had to drive a fully loaded golf up a high steep sand dune and the first few times slid off the right line, sinking into the sand. Managed to nail it the third time though and we pushed it over the top and down the other side. Then we tore along the sea edge, keeping off the heavy sand and clipping the odd venturing wave. The drive was exhilarating as well as scenic, everyone was buzzing. A couple of times it was also a bit dodgy, almost getting stuck as the tide ominously advanced, Rafa managed to just about beat the creeping waves to the ferry pick up point.
On the other side I managed to eat four crackers in one minute, and Raf ate four and a half. Made everyone sign my pad here to recognise this feat.
After a far less interesting and spectacular drive we pulled up in Praia de Pipa (Kite Beach). Travelling in the car with these two has definite advantages; mainly the company and the music, and saving time. Also have been able to get to know Rafa and Alex more. It is hot though, and less roomy, and it was a relief to get out again.
Another day, another journey, another tropical paradise. Pipa is another beachy village with its own distinct atmosphere: less rustic than Jeri, noisier than Canoa Quebrada, but still a joy to be in. We eventually made our way to a campsite via the beach. Seemed this afternoon was quite hard work, especially for Rafa who was driving. The campsite is a wonderful antidote to any stress anyone might have though; empty, spacious and characterful. We decided to have a cheap evening and made our own food, spaghetti with veg and fried aubergine. Great work from Alex here. Also had some Açai for the first time: a pulped purple fruit with granola and banana mixed in, really nice.
After some expertly made caipirinhas we headed off into town. I was getting a bit worried about meeting Renaud and the girls but, as Rafa predicted, we bumped into them round the first corner we walked. Told us Jamie was in town as well and the night started to stretch out before us. The tourist strip in Pipa is uncomfortable, bright lights and concrete are slightly obtuse in these natural surroundings. There is a different tourist vibe from other places we´ve been and not much interaction with the local people. To be honest the night in the town seemed a bit sterile. We ended up moving on to a cool, worn little reggae bar next to our campsite for a while and then onto a beach party, minus Leia and Cecilia who were tired.
To get to the party we had to trek over unforgiving, rough, hilly terrain along the side of the sea to this secluded house. There was some live music and loads of people, Jamie and his two friends included (Lawrie and Col, two musicians who´re working holidaying here). My impressions of the night, finishing this in the morning, are slightly blurred but I can distinctly recall a butchered version of ´Knocking on Heaven´s Door´, bumping into our German friends, chatting away to a few people and being subjected to chart R+B for a while before we left, on an even more unforgiving and harder walk back uphill. It seems you can travel thousands of miles, completely shake off the shackles of English culture but you can´t escape Usher, cringingly, wanted to ´make love in this club´.
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