Day 7 - Candomblé, Capoeira, Caipirinha.

12:00
I treat myself to a Zopiclone overnight. I’ve not slept poorly so far, but can equally feel like I’m a bit frayed around the edges. I was asleep by 22:00 last night, and sleep through till nearly 07:00. Vicki wakes not long after me, and is stuffed full of cold. She’s not feeling too bad, but is pretty bunged up and snuffly. Our breakfast is brought to our room at 08:00, and it’s a smorgasbord. Pastries, cakes, bread rolls, charcuterie and cheese, some muesli and yoghurt, and some of the sweetest little bananas I’ve ever eaten. Delish. Shortly after breakfast, I lay down, and can feel my eyes getting heavy. Vicki also feels like she could do with some more sleep. I shut my eyes, and wake up what feels moments later, but at what is actually 11:00. All in, I’ve had close to 10 hours sleep. Forza Zopiclone!

16:45
We take a hilly walk through Pelourinho to the meeting point for our walking tour. Our guide, Adriano, gives us a great insight to the history and society of one of Brazil’s oldest and most culturally diverse neighbourhoods. Salvador was an economic powerhouse in the 16th and 17th centuries, and the epicentre of Brazil’s slave trade. There are statues and monuments everywhere acknowledging the plight of the slaves, as well as the end of the slave trade in the late 19th century.

We’re introduced to the Candomblé religion, and the Baianas, the colourfully dressed women who are ever present on the Salvador streets. We visit a church, dedicated to St Francis of Assisi, which has THE most ornate and intricate gold work I’ve ever seen. Adriano tells us there’s close to 1 metric ton of gold in the church. We’re all struck by how comfortably these various religions coexist peacefully. There’s even a church where Sundays witness a combined service for Roman Catholics, and followers of Candomblé. Given the headlines we keep seeing about religious war in the Middle East, it’s a stunning reminder that philosophically different religions don’t actually need to harm each other…

Our tour finishes near our hotel, and under a balcony from which Michael Jackson famously sang in the video for ‘They Don’t Care About Us’ back in 1996. It’s been a great couple of hours wandering around with Adriano, and we feel like we know the neighbourhood that is our home for the next few days much better than we did this morning. We’re all ready for some lunch, so head to a pretty little square in front of the San Francisco church. Couple of Caipis for Tamsin and I really hit the spot. The food is very good. A steak for me, a wodge (technical term) of beautifully grilled fish for Vicki, and some prawns for Tam. Lovely stuff. It’s comfortably the priciest meal we’ve had so far, but is smack in the middle of the tourist zone, so it’s hardly surprising. It still feels like it offers good value though.

We’re all ready for a little rest after eating. Vicki and Tam wander back via a Havaianas shop, and I swing by the theatre for a dance recital later, to pick up our tickets. Currently unsure whether snooze or not…

21:00
Not snooze in the end, but had a lovely, relaxing couple of hours chilling back at our room. Vicks is on the border of feeling properly smeggy, but is pushing through brilliantly. The folk dance recital we’re going to starts at 19:00, and we’re out in good time. It’s a short walk down and then up the cobbled streets to the theatre.

The show is awesome. Such incredible energy… It covers a range of styles, but majors on Candomblé and Capoeira, with a bit of Samba thrown in for good measure. I’m not always a fan of percussion driven music, but alongside the dance we’re watching, it fits perfectly. I’m sure there’s an incredible amount of meaning and symbolism to what we’re experiencing that simply passes us by. I’m not sure I’d even describe much of the dancing as artistic - but it’s incredibly powerful, very moving, and leaves an indelible mark. We’re all hugely appreciative of what we’ve just witnessed.

Vicki and I briefly consider a nightcap - it is, after all, past 20:00. It’s Friday night in Pelourinho though, and all the bars we walk past are packed to the rafters. We mosey (it’s our top speed this evening) back to the guesthouse. I very nearly come a serious cropper, when my ankle buckles in a deep hole in the pavement. Thankfully, I brought an ankle brace with me, in case of arthritic pain, so it shouldn’t slow me down *too* much…Okumaya devam et