I found an Enchanted Place in Brazil (Part II)

Dear reader,

    The first signs of daylight appeared in the sky and the sun started to rise. So, I left the bus station and started walking through the quiet streets. I had no idea if I was going in the right direction; I just knew that I was aiming to see the historic center of Paraty. I had only seen Paraty's colonial architecture in photos, and those images were already coming to life in my mind.

    I kept walking, and the first streets, paved with cobblestones laid in a rectangular pattern, came into view. They were dry because the tide was low and it hadn't rained in the last few days. Those types of streets are called pé-de-moleque and are flooded by seawater when the tide is high. The facades of the houses have a captivating beauty that evokes a strong sense of the past. The symmetry and vibrant colors of the windows and doors, contrasting with the white walls make them really elegant. While observing those walls, I saw a sign telling me that I was on Rua Aurora.

    Rua Aurora took me to Cais de Paraty, where I witnessed one of the most magical sunrises that I had ever experienced. It was a brilliant point of light emerging from the clouds, deep in the sky and contrasting with the hills. There were boats rocking gently with the ocean waves. One of the boats caught my eye with its charm. Its name? Brilho d'Água.

Brilho d'Água at sunrise at Cais de Paraty. Photo by the author.

    Walking down Rua Aurora while receiving the first energies of the sun, I looked around. Cannons adorned the cais, and nearby, an old church still stands, surviving the passing of the centuries at the center of a square. I asked myself how many things had happened there, like people fighting for their lives and facing other struggles that left their mark on the history of Brazil. Indeed, I had arrived at Largo de Santa Rita, a place of reflection on the violence and resistance of the enslaved African population.

    Crossing the Largo de Santa Rita, I turned onto Rua Marechal Santos Dias. I found myself stopping when I saw how many crabs there were along the way; it seemed like they were up early, already hustling for the day. I think that they were taking advantage of the fact that most humans were still sleeping. Since the Carnival season was beginning, the night before must have been wild for everyone. The streets were colorful, with ribbons and masks everywhere.

Largo de Santa Rita, Paraty. Photo by the author.

    At the end of the street, I felt as if I were witnessing the city waking up. I arrived at Praça da Matriz in front of Igreja Nossa Senhora dos Remédios. The square still carried traces of the wild night before; the speakers were turned off, streamers were scattered across the ground, and animal masks still echoed the night's energy. The first people were walking their dogs. Teenagers were riding their bikes.

    Just when I thought the morning had settled, a family of marmosets appeared above the rooftops. It made me wonder how many adventures they had ahead of them, and how many others I'd never know about. It felt like the city had a secret life that, if you looked carefully, you would be able to see. Then, a soft assobio came from above the trees. A light jump from branch to branch. The marmosets were hungry and looking for food, and apparently, it was time for me to do the same.

Morning on Rua Marechal Santos Dias. Photo by the author.