Journey to Jacuma

We wake early in the morning and finish off packing before going for our final breakfast in Pipa. Rose has been the perfect host and im really sad to be saying goodbye to Pipa once again. Even though its become so much more touristy it still hols a special charm and a special place in my heart. We bid our farewells and Asia will join us for the journey to Jacuma. We firstly have to catch the bus from Pipa to Goianinha. The bus is of similar size to a small school bus in England with a seat at the front next to the driver so along with all the rucksacks i take my place here. The bus is pretty full with local people but i enjoy the drive out watching as Pipa looks more like it did 8 yrs ago as we head out of the centre. The bus driver keeps randomly shouting out to people and honking his siren like hornand when we actually arrive in Goianinha he puts on his police siren horn , i cant stop chuckling to myself that its like being on the magical mystery tour. We ask directions to the bus stop to Joah Pessoa and were told to head over the bridge which crosses a motorway road. As we drop down on the other side i notice a guy from Israel who had been to the hostel a few nights and he was also waiting for the bus. The bus stop was a couple of blocks of concrete with a corrugated There were taxis here and offered to take us for two hundred but we would only pay 35 each on the bus and this worked out a 50 each i told everyone that if we just wait he will reapproach us as he had already told us he had to go there to collect someone he came back at 40 each and i said no again and that we could only afford 25 each as we sit back down again a guy comes cycling past on a pushbike standing upright with his feet on the handlebars and seat heading thewrong way down the motarway in the fast lane. Did he have a death wish? The cars literally just manouevoured around him, it was incredible, and buy the time the entertainment had finished the taxi guy agreed to take us for 25 each. We all bulk our way into the taxi with rucksacks on our knees hanging out of the window, the journey takes just over an hour and drops us at the Rodovario in Joah pessoa where we have to cross the street and stand at one of 4 bus stops when we asked at each one they all said it was a different one and as were stood in the baking hot sun some guy comes up with a big shouty voice and is blatantly drunk and he say to mark have a safe travel Mark said obrigado and the guy shouted right up in Marks face its not obrigado im from Chile its Muchos gracias, his nose was as close to touching Marks but Mark laughed it off and we boarded the bus. This one had a turnstyle on, so once again i stood on the front of the bus with all the rucksacks. I helped the old woman on with all her pots and pans and then the old guy with all his fruit a boy scout leader and a guy dresses in a brazil shirt and brazil cowboy hat , this bus really did have it all. After 6 hours of travelling which should have taken 3 we arrive. We take a few minutes to gather ourselves and on the road down grab a bite to eat in the lanchonete before finding our hostel. We arrive and its really expensive and after haggling and just about to leave the owner turns up an older guy and says he can do it for 10 pound a night. He is from Manchester and the girst thing he says is we dont like people from Liverpool. We drop out stuff in the room and all 3 of is take a short walk down the beach and then grab a shower before heading for a bite to eat.ark and i order lasagne and when we go to eat it its horrible we pay the bill and leave. The hostel is just 30 metres from the beach so i head back get into my hammock listening to the sea crash on the shore nefore heading to bedRead more