God’s greatest gifts to liquid lovers can be found in abundance in Brazil. Here strong coffee, succulent fruit juices and refreshing beer flow like water. In the thirst-quenching capital of the Southern Hemisphere, the wide variety of beverage options do more than keep your palate moist and your lips puckering for more. Brazil’s liquid offerings just might reveal the very best of the rich and colorful culture of the country.

The Dark Stuff

Brazilians take their coffee seriously. Piping hot, thick as oil and excessively sweet, coffee is enjoyed often and at all times of the day. Morning, noon or night, it’s served strong and sweet out of mini plastic or Styrofoam cups. Despite its sugary taste, most Brazilians find their coffee can never be sweet enough and often add additional sugar packets into the miniature, espresso-size cups.

Coffee is typically consumed at a corner lanchonete, a cafe reminiscent of the American diner scene where curving chrome countertops hover over a row of faux-leather bar stools. Here you’ll find Brazilians bellying up for the hourly fix of hot brew. True to their innate affability, Brazilians drink their coffee standing up while mingling among strangers as if they were old friends.

Fruit Around the Clock

Brazil boasts a different fruit for every hour of the day. Mamao (papaya), abacaxi (pineapple), maracajá (passion fruit), uva (grape), acerola (cherry), laranjá (orange) and moranga (strawberry) don’t begin to put a dent in the list of the pure variety of offerings. In fact, there are so many fruits that many don’t even have an English translation. Only in Brazil do you find the sweet juice of fruits like ingá or abui and rare liquid blends with cashew nuts and avocados.

Fruit juice, known as suco, is undoubtedly a major Brazilian highlight. The tropical delights are sold at juice stands lining nearly every corner of every street of Brazil. At each stand you have your pick from 15-20 different fruits that are blended into a fresh, frothy wonderfulness you won’t find elsewhere. Spend time experimenting, mixing and matching juices to find the perfect combo that best suits your palate. For those looking for a little more filling option, opt for mixing your fruit juice with banana or milk for a creamy fruit shake known as a vitamina.

All Hail the King

If beverages were a Brazilian royal family, beer would certainly be king. It’s consumed all day, every day. Before, during and after every meal, it’s the beverage of choice and is the classic accompaniment to every aspect of Brazilian social life.

When it comes to the kind of beer, however, anything goes. Common brands include Antarctica, Brahma, Skol and Kaiser with the best beers found in the regional offerings, like Bohemia and Petropolis. Though Brazilians are likely to drink whatever is available, they are extremely particular about how their beer is served. It must be ice cold, near frozen, and garnished with a few ice chips. Beer temperature is such a serious matter that all coolers are strategically set to 24-26 degrees Farenheit to ensure the optimum drinking temperature is achieved.

Beer drinking is an unrivaled social activity. It’s typically served tall and proud in a 600 millileter bottle with a couple small cups meant to be shared among everyone at the table and comes clad in its own extra-large, insulated coozie to keep it’s desired temperature. Such an integral part of Brazilian culture has beer drinking become that one of these tall boys can be ordered without uttering a single word. Simply raise three fingers in the air and delivery of a tall, icy brew will arrive in no time.

For those around the world travelers thirsty for an authentic taste of Brazilian life, you can certainly find it by adhering to a strict Brazilian liquid diet. Coffee buzz and sugar high aside, you will never go parched.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

I admit much of my initial desire to visit Jeri on our around the world travel adventure was in its funny-sounding name, Jericoacoara. I loved the way it just rolled off your tongue, like an important emperor or ancient village. The name was given as a result of a rock formation along the coast and means “alligator taking sun,” which it closely resembles. While my joy in repeating its name has not dissipated in the slightest, I soon learned that the depth and complexity of the place needs to be peeled off in layers.

To get to Jeri, we had to take a 6 hour bus ride and then transferred to an open-air 4WD truck to drive the last hour through desert sands. This was a magnificent entry, as we watched the sunset over white dunes with palm trees dotting the coastline. The beauty of Jeri is easy to grasp, understanding it is another thing. It seems you are driving through the windy Sahara when all of a sudden you reach the coast and see the ocean.

After checking into our pousada we quickly realized that Jeri is one, big Italian ex-pat community. Discovered (rediscovered I should say) in the 70’s by an Italian windsurfer, the place took off and seems to have brought all of this initial Italian windsurfer’s friends and family, noted by the many pousadas that carry Italian names such as Maurcio and Calanda. There is no shortage of places to enjoy an espresso at any moment of the day and you have a selection of Italian restaurants where you can order pastas, pizzas, prosciutto sandwiches and pastries. When in Rome, do as the Romans do, right? I did, and managed to develop a serious addiction to espresso.

Our first day made it very clear that people come to Jeri for one thing – the surf. I think Laura and I were part of only a select few that were not perfecting our kite or windsurfing skills. The town is absolutely devoted to the sports with windsurfing clubs and hotels providing racks and storage space for all the equipment. People come from all over the world to surf Jeri. Few places in the world offer such consistently strong winds, in the range of 20-30mph, along with good waves to jump and do tricks on (that sounds really lame, but I’ve yet to learn the windsurfing lingo for such moves).

Much equipment is required for the sports, making it a bit cumbersome and prohibitively expensive, so we decided to have fun observing. Like skiers talking about “fresh powder,” people here are always talking about the wind and the tides. We had great fun watching professionals from around the globe. There were photographers with crazy lenses taking tons of photos, presumably for wind and kite surfing magazines, much like you see at Pipeline in Hawaii.

We were lucky to be there for a full moon which provides great waves and also a great backdrop for sunsets. We climbed the great dune at the edge of town with hundreds of others to watch the simultaneous sunset and moonrise. This was one of our favorite daily rituals, ending with everyone running, back-flipping, rolling or sand surfing their way to the bottom and into the ocean. Even crazier and something we can’t quite get used to, is the sun setting at 5:30pm. Being so close to the Equator the temperature and time of sunsets change very little during the year. For Midwesterners associating warm, summer-like weather with 8:30 sunsets, this was quite strange.

Unbeknownst to us, we happened on Jeri during the biggest music festival of the year called Choro Jazz. Each night for 5 nights, beginning at 10pm and going until 1am, the city came alive with jazz and choro (a jazz-influenced type of music very popular in the northeast of Brazil), with some of the best musicians from Brazil and others from France and Australia. There were bars and food stalls set up around the main square where you could eat local plates of arraoz (rice), feijao (beans), carne de sol (sun-dried meat), farofa (dried manioc root), queijo grelhado (grilled cheese), espetinhos (meats or fish on a stick), plenty of desserts and drain cheap fruit cocktails like caipirinhas or caipifrutas (cachasa or cane alcohol with pineapple, passion fruit, strawberries and other very fresh fruits).

Nightlife in Jeri was surprisingly very good. For such a small, laid-back town people like to break it down here, and quite late. After the concert each night, people would head to the beach where bars project surf films against a giant wall and dance to music that was popular a few years ago in other parts of the world. When that starts to wind down, around 3 or 4am, everyone heads back into town to a bar where people dance forro (a type of music blending folk and reggae, among others) until the sun rises. We only made it out until 4am, but were proud of ourselves nonetheless.

We also took advantage of the many buggy tours the area offers. Along with another Brazilian couple, we went out on an all-day buggy tour, driving along the beach and over dunes to check out some cool lakes and petrified stone. While we couldn’t understand a word our guide was saying, it was clear the highlight was a massive dune plunging into a clear lake, where Laura and I rented, respectively, a sled and sand board. Typical to my style, I “ollied” and “hucked ropes” down the sand at rapid speed and had some nasty scars after it was over to prove it.

To sum up our time in Jeri, I am left with one word to describe it all: unique. I haven’t seen anything like it and don’t suppose I will on the rest of our trip. The juxtaposition of the dunes, palm trees and ocean make you feel like you’re in a different world. I strongly recommend coming here, whether you are a surfer of any type or not, just to take it all in.

Lucky for us, this next town on our round the world travel adventure did live up to its name. Jericoacoara, dubbed Jeri by visitors and locals, is an extraordinary place and, in my book, somewhat extraterrestrial. Perched on a remote peninsula on the northeast coast of Brazil, it’s home to an arid, desert climate set against a backdrop of palm trees, crashing waves and sandy beaches. The town is completely isolated, surrounded by miles of enormous sand dunes and rolling green hills. To get there you must survive a long, bumpy ride in an open air four wheel drive truck through sand dunes while enduring the intense, whipping winds of the area.

After nearly 24 hours of traveling, we boarded the four wheel drive truck to Jeri. Here the sun set behind massive, yellow sand dunes lined with goats, donkeys and horses grazing on the shoreline. This overlooked a coast dotted with hard-bodied Europeans enjoying espressos, cigarettes and acai after a hard day of hitting the surf. Feeling drunk on pure exhaustion and the cocktail of sand that filled my mouth, it began to dawn on me what a special, yet peculiar place, we were journeying into. Had we stumbled upon the dusty Saharan Desert? The rolling green fields of Ireland? Or perahps the Italian Riviera? We were experiencing for the first time the unique vibe that is Jericoacoara.

The rare conditions of Jeri have made this remote destination a world-renowned wind sport Mecca and backpacker hotspot. We spent several days taking advantage of Jeri’s offerings. Embarking on a beach buggy tour through the dunes, we discovered a new favorite sport while sand surfing down 300 foot dunes into a crystal clear lake. We soaked up the sun each day while watching the daily congestion of wind and kite surfers who’d come from all over the world to test out Jeri’s waves. Desperate to get a taste of what the wind sport craze was all about, we rented a surfboard to try out the great long-boarding waves Jeri was said to offer.

Jeri has this way of sucking you in and many travelers stay a lot longer than they had planned. I’m not sure if it’s based on putting off the exhaustive trek back to civilization or the somewhat intoxicating vibe the place exudes. Either way, we thoroughly enjoyed a rather lengthy stay and equally dreaded the long journey back.

We arrived early Saturday morning after our first of many overnight bus rides on our round the world trip. The town itself is quite small and conquerable on foot in an afternoon. Staying on the bottom of the city, we followed the “intuitive” walking tour Lonely Planet had recommended. Walking up the cobblestone hills, we passed several of the 11 colonial churches in the city and rows of brightly colored homes, shops and restaurants. The quick rise in elevation offered tremendous ocean views as well as a view of the town below us and the stark contrast of the modern and not-so-beautiful Recife skyline. The town has a very subtle way of gaining your approval. While first starting out we were unimpressed and already contemplating our next move. But, like a good chess player, Olinda had other offerings up its sleeve.

At the top of the city along with some great views were rows of food stands offering the famous Bahian dish, acarajé. I had read about the dish and now its smell was telling me that the deed needed to be done. I purchased one and waited as the brown bean fritter was fried in dende oil and mashed with salt and onions by the Afro-Bahian woman in the white cloth hat and big, flowing white dress, as is so common in this part of Brazil. Dende oil is a palm oil used in many Bahian dishes and possesses a more pungent smell and taste than corn or olive oil and commonly causes “tummy” issues for the uninitiated (i.e. gringos like yours truly). The acarajé was then topped off with vatapa, a mix of dried shrimp, pepper and tomato sauce. It was, in a word, delicious. And clogging my arteries. This would not deter me from ordering more street food like fried tapioca crepes filled with chocolate and cheese (yes, cheese). I’m trying to keep a balanced diet here and cholesterol is clearly part of that diet.

To really experience all that Olinda has to offer you must stay for a Sunday night. This was not necessarily our plan but, as we found, the quiet days lead to music-filled nights when the blocos, or bands, begin practicing for the pre-Lent festival of Carnaval. Our walking tour ended with us following a band of young and old producing magnetic drum beats, twirling batons and some funky gyrations that I thought were saved for post-puberty, but apparently not. The bloco ended in the town square where there several other bands practicing as well. I can’t imagine what Carnaval is like given that this was just a small practice session but it was a party all the same.

Sunday night brought even more energy and music. Every teenager in town gathered in the square outside of our pousada to blast fevro, forro and other Brazilian beats from their car sub-woofers. It was quite a sight – something like a post-game ‘Friday Night Lights’ party gone Latin – lots of dancing, partying, drinking, flirting – all leading to public make-outs and loads of entertainment for us.

We will be returning again before our flight home for Christmas. We’re looking forward to again ditching Recife and keeping our fingers crossed that we happen again here on a Sunday night.

Pipa found its way on our around the world travel itinerary after rave reviews from some fellow travelers. We heard of spectacular beaches and a low-key charm. We were not disappointed.

Nestled on a peninsula two hours south of Natal, the bus ride into Pipa was incredible. Arriving just in time for the 5:30 p.m. sunset (typical in northern Brazil even in summer due to the proximity to the Equator), we passed through small towns, lined with barefoot children and homes consisting of no more than a tin roof and a pile of bricks. Though life was simple, lives seemed rich. Set against a backdrop of infinite blue sky, forests of palm trees and hundred foot cliffs that drop into the sea, their homes are surrounded by some of the most beautiful landscapes I’ve ever seen. Winding around a deep blue lake feeding into the Atlantic Ocean, we were welcomed by a brilliant sky in a symphony of colors above the town of Pipa.

Finding a place to stay is always a dreaded task. It usually comes after hours in one, two or three uncomfortable buses where temperatures are either sizzling hot or frigid cold. It typically follows hours of lugging around our heavy packs on sun burnt backs. It often involves a clueless examination of vague city maps while quizzing puzzled locals in our broken Portuguese on their orientation skills. It generally results in settling for the closest accommodation option and rarely the finest.

We found heaven, this time, however, at the delightful Pousada Xama (pronounced Shama) on the edge of town. Clean, charming and cozy, I felt as if we were staying at a five star hotel. The grounds were lush, with flowers and coconut trees lining every inch of the place. We had a comfy room and a private patio with a hammock where we spent hours reading and planning our days. They served a fantastic cafe de manha (breakfast) each morning and a beautiful pool to lounge in after a hard day at the beach was a welcomed luxury.

The beaches of Pipa, in my novice opinion, are some of the top beaches in Brazil. Much like the surrounding towns, Pipa is perched up on a cliff made of red rock, looking down to the water. There are several beaches to choose from. You can spend your day at Praia de Golfinhos (Dolphin Beach), a dolphin reserve where you often find dolphins swimming and feeding their young at low tide. There’s Praia do Amor (Love Beach), where the water is a vibrant aqua green, waves twice my height and dotted with the area’s best surfers. Then there is a plethora of surrounding beaches tucked into the cliff side where you can walk for miles without seeing another footprint in the sand.

Pipa, for us, was vacation. We were spoiled with our accommodations and beaches, and loved every second of it. The beauty of long-term travel is finding a place you really love and deciding to extend your stay just because you can. A three day visit quickly turned into a week-long stay. We met some great people at our pousada, including an Israeli Argentine couple on their honeymoon, who we tagged along with trying to relive the magic. We spent an afternoon on a kayak trip around the nearby lake and through the surrounding streams and watched sunset each night from a cliff overlooking the beaches. While we spotted no dolphins, we were amazed to see an elusive baby cougar on the hunt while on a hike at sunset.

We spent our Thanksgiving here in Pipa, and while the meal itself could be forgotten, our time in Pipa will be fondly remembered.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.

Created with Admarket’s flickrSLiDR.