Posted on July 16, 2015
A Day Late and a Dollar Saved
The day started out as planned and our excitement levels were high, unfortunately that was about to change after waiting outside our apartment building for 2.5 hours for Easy Transfer Brazil to pick us up for our trip to Ilha Grande. Oh no, we had been forgotten! Now what? We had already checked out of our apartment, didn’t have wifi service unless Aaron went up the the 7th floor of the building and stood outside the locked apartment door, and no place to stay for the night. Eventually we got ahold of easy transfer by email and they offered to pick us up the next day at no cost to us Let’s hope they don’t forget us again.
Not to be ones to let a bad situation get us down we hefted our packs onto our defeated backs and dragged our cooler full of food down the street. Earlier that week we had noticed Copa Hostel just a few blocks away and hoped they had room for the night. Our luck was coming back, sort of. We booked a double room with ensuite but were a bit taken back by the stale smoke smell when we entered the room. Gross! Not wanting to hang out in our room we put on our suits and headed out to Copacabana beach for some lunch, beers and sun. And of course to laugh hysterically at all the teeny weenie bikinis and speedos. We splurged ($10, woah getting crazy!) and rented beach chairs, an umbrella and had beers delivered to our spot by a cute Brazilian boy. Things could be worse. To round out the day we enjoyed splitting a delicious and creamy cup of pistachio gelato.
We were up and waiting in the lobby by 7:30am the next day and were relieved to see the transfer service arrive about 8am. It took 2.5 hours by van to arrive at the port of Angra dos Reis. We loaded onto a ferry boat packed with tourists, fresh produce, luggage, and even a washing machine for the 50 minute ride to port of Abraāo on the island. We had emailed our airbnb.com hosts the day before to alert them to our delayed arrival and hoped they would be waiting for us at the docks today. No such luck. A nice woman from the transfer service tried to help us but no one had heard of “Private Beach House” and didn’t seem to understand it wasn’t an actual hotel just an address. Everyone was a bit frustrated and when we asked a few local men they just laughed and chanted “beach-a beach-a beach-a house!” over and over again while laughing. Oh boy. When does this get easier? We went back to the docks and found someone who could point us in the right direction and decided to try to find it on our own. It was a bit of a hike, especially with about 40lbs of luggage and groceries each and going uphill, but eventually we found it. No one was around, doors where locked and there we stood sweaty, frustrated and annoyed. Will this ever end? Aaron was finally able to pick up a weak wifi signal and called our hosts who quickly met us and let us into our apartment. Ahhh, finally we have arrived at paradise.