Carnaval 2015 in Olinda

Normally when I party, one day suits me plenty. I like quitting while it is still fun so I can reminisce the rare days spent gyrating, mixing my alcohol, and feel the crowded intimacy of glowing compatriots. After our serendipitous libations with the giant rooster, I knew I had to rally for our next day in Olinda. Celebrating day number three of Carnaval at a fancy pousada (hotel) snugly tucked in the row house streets of Olinda, the heart of intense and meaningful "Cultural Carnaval" for northeast Brazil. Of course, there was the predictable flow of cheap cold beer, grilled meats, trashed streets, and throes of drunkards too.

Mark, my father-in-law, and I caught a cab and arrived at the foot of Olinda around 10 am and began our adventurous hike up the streets. Drum groups called batucadas dominated the cobblestone streets like the Pied Piper, drawing crowds of people behind them. Giant bonecos (dolls) dotted the crowds like landmarks, and the colors- oh gosh, the colors of costume clad partiers competed for attention against the already colorful city. The energy was undeniable and nobody couldn't not dance or stomp around. We wormed our way to the Quatro Cantos Pousada and past the ginormous security guards and into the shady oasis. From the patio above we watched the mayhem and settled in for a day of raucous behavior. 

I loved every minute of it. Traveling bands passed through the streets which meant so the noise and crowds would ebb and flow too. We had our own live music and again- everyone knew every single samba song and every single word. As our afternoon wound down we said our goodbyes and ventured out into the twilight against the never ending flow of people. At the party in Recife we caught a cab early enough in the game that we didn't wait at all. This time however, we weren't so lucky. Or maybe we were, because after 90 minutes of trying to hail a cab, Mark ended up doling out some cash to an "off-duty" taxi driver (he was clearly hanging out for people like us willing to pay double) to get us home- totally worth it for everyone involved. 

Around 7:30pm we arrived to the back of our building where our magazine stand guy was hosting the second night of his street party. The dancing more or less continued but admittedly with less enthusiasm on my part. Tired and sore, I called it a night and promptly passed out from exhaustion. Now the question is, do I attempt to do this again today? Too early to tell, but I could totally see me rallying, maybe after a nap.

Mark Schlink, you literally MAKE my blog.
Thanks for the photos.

First Peek Olinda

View from Praca Da Se
121 feet above sea level

Whenever I chat with Recife locals, they always ask me the same questions: 1. How do you like living in Recife? 2. Have you been to Olinda? and 3. Why haven't you visited Olinda yet? They have a lot of admiration for the city, always quick to point out its spectacular ocean views, museums, art galleries, and historical churches. Deciding to ameliorate my guilt, we hopped into a taxi to check out the would-be capital of Pernambuco- had a war between Recife merchants and Olinda sugar financiers not broken out in the early 1700s. At the time sugar, a commodity once king of the Brazilian exports, suffered when West Indies competition blew them out of the water, stagnating Olinda's cash flow to the point of crisis. The growing economic and political differences between the two cities grew, along with piles of Olinda debt and dwindling Dutch power meant something had to give, resulting in war: the Guerra dos Mascates. In the end, Recife took over as the capital. 

I realized as we neared the hilly city (a whopping 6km from Recife) that I was in for a treat. Mark and I would get to hike up the cobble stoned roads to reach the top. I love an integrated workout/touring day- it makes the beer taste so much better. However, our cabbie wasn't inclined to listen and nearly killing his transmission along the way, drove up the steep hill in first gear. We hopped out and began to wander. Basically, everything was closed save for a few snack carts. Like we suspected, turns out most exhibits are closed on Mondays. On one hand, that was disappointing- I'd hoped Lonely Planet was wrong so I could visit the contemporary art museums and see about scratching the last few items off the Christmas list. On the other hand, we admired Olinda's colonial churches; many of which were built in the 1500s. We enjoyed the beautiful tropical landscape, the vivid graffiti and brightly painted walls that lined the winding streets. We laughed at American tourist group making hopeful comments that the pending rainstorm would alleviate the sticky heat. By this time at 10:30am, I already soaked through my clothes, leaving sweaty butt marks wherever I sat. I wondered what these folks would think when summer really arrives. I'm told when it does, the trade winds often dissipate leaving nothing but stagnant, chest heaving heat. Sounds amazing.

At any rate, we worked up an appetite and decided on one of the few open restaurants: a Pizzaria/Creperia knowing full well, no restaurant ever makes pizza midday. I mortified my husband by ordering fried cod balls, known as bacalhau. I think he barely held down his carrot-chicken-crepe as he watched me drown my delicious cod balls in vinegar, lemon juice and pepper. For someone who routinely avoids eating pickles just because her husband hates the smell of vinegar, I deserved this free pass since it was my birthday after all. Burning off lunch we hiked back up the hill for a second pass. We saw many signs in windows advertising for rental space specifically for Carnival. It's prime real estate and with little surprise- the stretches of road are barely wide enough for two cars and the sidewalks are broken, sometimes non-existent. A rental right in the heart of millions of people dancing shoulder to shoulder in the streets is the perfect way to enjoy what all the locals say is total madness, joy and celebration. Mark thinks I could hang with the crowds. In theory I love the idea it all, but let's be honest- I'm a bigger chicken than the 88.5" (27m) chicken that roams the Pernambuco streets for Carnival every year, aka O Galo Da Madrugada. I guess time will tell. 

Igreja da Conceição

Igreja da Misericordia

Background: Igreja de Sé

Igreja do Carmo

View of Recife

Igreja do Amparo

Praia de Sao Francisco