Strolling down a tenuously cobbled side street, I’m greeted by two sensations, almost simultaneously.
One is the scent of freshly baked pastries, carried swiftly by the breeze that comes over the water, then into the hills behind me. The other is the first image I have of the harbor: a still life of blue-green water flecked gold by the sun, and multi-colored wooden fishing boats. In the distance is the Atlantic.
Along the stone path that follows the length of the waterfront, the options for al fresco dining and trendy pousadas, tucked into the hill on one side of the road, and perched atop the seawall on the other, are plentiful. I go for one of the restaurants promising fresh seafood. The dorado fillet I order — served over rice, with a shrimp creole-style sauce — is simple, fresh, and easily one of the best meals I’ve had in Brazil. As I leave the restaurant, a bronze statue of Brigitte Bardot welcomes me to what was once a quiet fishing village. What a fantastic introduction, indeed.
The small peninsula, properly named Armação dos Búzios, is three hours east of Rio de Janeiro; and is, compared to the city, very low-key. Looking around, I assume this is why so many weekenders (Cariocas and Argentines, mostly) are spread out amongst the bars, surf shops, and restaurants. The small crowds are hardly an issue though — not after spending five days in an enormous Rio hostel. Búzios, and the amazing airbnb I’ve rented for the week, is a godsend. My Portuguese is even starting to sound better.
Rio is gorgeous and vibrant and an almost incessant assault on your senses. Búzios, on the other hand, more reticently reveals itself. The towering, verdant mountains that impose themselves in Rio slowly give way to ambling, rocky hills in Búzios, as crowded city streets turn into quiet, shaded cobblestone roads.
The main road, Rua das Pedras, marks the semi-bustling center of town. Daily, I make the fifteen-minute walk along the seawall for a bite to eat, groceries, or açaí. An upscale bohemian beach vibe permeates Búzios — as if someone has placed Taos on the Brazilian coast. The town is filled with hip boutiques, small art galleries, and trendy restaurants. There’s even an indie movie theater. I quickly realize, though, that the most attractive parts of Búzios require a bit of exploring.
Running through the hills near my bungalow north of town, I stumble across Praia dos Ossos. It’s a short stretch of beach, framed perfectly by a sagebrush-and-cactus-lined cove. Uncharacteristically, I haven’t done any research before coming here, aside from a few years ago watching the wonderful Brazilian film Adrift (À Deriva in Portuguese), in which the hard landscape and golden beaches of Búzios feature prominently. My cinematic expectations, I assumed before I came here, would be difficult to meet. This beach, however, is Búzios exactly as I’ve imagined it.
Once back to the airbnb, I grab my beach towel and a notebook, and retrace my steps to the long sandy staircase that leads down to the water. Even with the small group of sunbathers and vendors selling coconuts and caipirinhas, I feel isolated. This is what I set out to find when I left for South America, almost two months ago — seclusion, provided by a tiny cove carved into a surprisingly wild peninsula, itself protected by high bluffs and a pockmarked, undulating coastline. Sipping a caipirinha, I take a deep breath, and promise myself I’ll return at a time when I need to rediscover solitude.