What happens when you’re at the pinnacle of a bout of major anxiety but you’ve been daydreaming about Brazil since your more sane days and you receive a notification from your flight deal tracker app saying the price dropped $40? You buy a ticket for a solo adventure to Brazil because apparently the difference between going and not was only $40.

Then your anxiety goes to new heights, because what have you done?! It’s too expensive! The inconvenience to your family! You’ve never traveled by yourself anywhere notable and definitely not out of the country! You don’t even speak Portuguese! So you call in a panic trying to get out of it. It may or may not have worked.

Then you panic that your efforts to get out of it will now only result in a cancelled plane ticket with no refund so you call back frantically to ensure you still have a ticket that is paid for.

This was all the day of booking and I haven’t even gotten to the “adventure” part yet.

What can I say, my head was not right. It had been seemingly the longest winter to date in my 41 years on this rotating ball of crazy and it had worn me down. I’m well acquainted with the dark days of winter blues but this year seemed relentless, with spring two months behind schedule and sun still only making cameos now into June. The anxiety was a new bonus this year. 

But after a recent road trip to Chicago where I consumed my body weight in espresso on the drive back, my anxiety became an uncontrollable beast. Caffeine has this effect on me, so I try to keep it to occasional doses but I had Top Latin station blasting from my car stereo and an open highway for 12 hours, espresso couldn’t possibly bring me down, I was unstoppable.

Unstoppable is accurate because the next day I felt like I was now in never ending sheer panic mode. It would not stop. Extreme ups and downs and tears and stomach knots for days and days.

And this is how I ended up buying a plane ticket to Brazil because for some reason in the midst of all that, it seemed like a great idea. 

Things only seemed to go down from there. The relatively good deal I booked directly from the South American airline Avianca’s website, apparently didn’t exist according to the customer service rep (bu- bu- I saw it with my own eyes on your website?? I literally purchased it??) who called to inform me that I needed to make some minor changes that resulted in a $300 increase.

Why yes, yes that would have been the perfect time to get out of the ticket but when you are currently bat shit crazy, you tell yourself there’s no turning back now and proceed with the no-longer good deal ticket.

Then the real fun starts.

Brazil was only on my radar because my journey into Spanish language learning lead me to some practice partners and new friends all over Latin America. One friend in particular from Brazil, with whom I ended up speaking with most regularly for months, said I could stay with them and come anytime. Sure it was a relatively unknown small (by Brazilian standards) town that I’d never choose to visit on my first, or any, trip to Brazil but when else would I have free lodging and a native guide to handle all the Portuguese to English translations for me?

Feeling confident in my character judgement skills and the depths of our conversations, this wasn’t as crazy of an idea as it may sound now. Most of my favorite people in my life were once internet strangers (hello, bestie!) and are now so integral to my life and day to day. I do not think less of relationships formed online than ones done in person. 

But this person. 

It was becoming more and more clear that their mind was closed and thrives on fear. Kind of a buzz kill for a traveler. They were a mainstream media’s wet dream, just soaking in all the horror stories and using that to paint entire areas with that tainted brush. Traveling is an immense privilege but there are clear distinctions between those who have traveled and those who have never left their small, tiny, closed-minded world. They were starting to convince me that as soon as the rich (by their Brazilian standards) gringo stepped foot into Brazil, I would be groped by mobs of desperate Brazilians, that is, if I made it through the hoards of “thugs” alive, of course. Having caught on that this person fears quite a lot without reason, I knew to temper their opinion quite a bit. 

Would I need to be aware and smart? Absolutely. But I’m not an oblivious American “vacationer” who will wander aimlessly into the favelas for a photo op. The streets of Baltimore helped me get in the habit of being constantly aware of my surroundings and I know the dos and don’t s for traveling in unfamiliar places. Fortunately my preferred style is typically unfeminine and borders on slob, I won’t be flashing around expensive jewels that I don’t own and I know to keep my phone out of sight. Plus, I’ll be armed with pepper spray, kung fu skills, and I don’t shave anything…I hear that is guaranteed Brazilian repellent. Jokes.

And then the real true colors came out of my Brazilian friend and it was immediately clear I was not going to be crashing on anyone’s couch.

So here I am with a ticket I was already regretting to a small airport in the state of Santa Catarina, once planning on spending the entire time in an extremely non-English-speaking, not-very-touristic, small town now with no free lodging and no translator. Adventure of a lifetime?

Thank the spirit guides above I discover that this town is only about an hour and a half drive away from the popular travel destination, Florianópolis. Perfect.

I hop onto my favorite Facebook groups for seasoned women world travelers and ask for more reliable reviews, based on experience and not fears passed on through the grapevine. I also joined a Brazil specific group for actual local perspectives to the city I was going to. I learned that I will be fine with only English in Floripa as it’s so touristic and full of ex-pats. It’s also supposedly stunning with a few vegan restaurants. One local Floripa Brazilian woman from the group gave me her WhatsApp number and told me to get in touch with her to meet up or for any reason. 

I lucked out and found an incredible deal for a luxury condo right in Lagoa da Conceição, which is where my new contact recommended. The 5-star, glowing reviews, perfectly located, luxury condo was so affordably priced for what it was (under $60!) and it looks like it was strictly due to the fact I was booking so far in advance the host didn’t update the pricing yet because every other time and every other place was $100+ more a night. Whatever the reason, it felt like finally things were looking up and I was getting excited. 

Even though there is an airport right in Floripa, I was stuck with the one 2 hours away. My AirBnB host reassured me that the drive was easy on a two-lane highway along the coast. Who knows, maybe I’ll even get some good scenery along the way.

As for that other original little town, Itapema…well, I decided to still spend two nights there. For one, it’s between the airport and Floripa and I thought after 20+ hours of travel in foreign land, I can probably use the downtime to regroup. Secondly, I heard so much about it, I’d like to see it for my own American-biased eyes. 

Itapema’s google street view looks like it’s just like any small but modern city. I’ll write down some useful phrases and try to learn some Portuguese basics before I go. Plus, google translate is my friend, even if inaccurate at times. As long as I can order some basic food (I mean they invented the açaí bowl, right?) and pick up a couple easily vegan-identifiable things from the supermercado that don’t depend on me treating for bacteria and parasites (they have Brazil nuts in Brazil, right?), I’ll be fine sitting on the beach for a day or two being the introvert that I am.

Now the next hurdle, finding a rental car with an automatic transmission because according to my small-minded former friend, apparently they don’t exist in Brazil. 

To be continued in 2019…

Next up: 
Puerto Vallarta, MX – July | Tulum, MX – Aug | Latin American (Colombia? Guatemala?) – Dec | Itapema & Floripa, Brazil – March