Pinchy girl who now introduced herself as Marcela had her own apartment but her girlfriend was staying over that night and it was a studio with just one bed. I tried to go there anyway because I didn’t want to whop out another thirty to forty dollars for a motel. She said no and we took a taxi to a love hotel nearby her apartment.
When we arrived at the motel the prices were very different from the ones the night before. A room was 165 reals, which is over eighty dollars. I told her I didn’t have that kind of money and she paid half after some initial grumping about it.
The room was excellent, with an enormous bubble bath and a separate dining area. After the shower we started fucking straight away. As I said before, she had a chubby body but a very beautiful face and giant hooters came with the package. She was fanatical in the bed and we had sex at least three times over the next six hours.
We woke up and were served a small complimentary breakfast and coffee. We walked over to her tiny but cozy apartment and she made some more breakfast for me. Marcela was Brazilian/Lebanese, which is a rare mix. I asked her where she grew up and she said Brazil, so I couldn’t claim the Lebanese flag which would have been awesome.
We exchanged Facebook names and said goodbye. She wanted to meet me again that night but I already had other plans. I tried to go for a three-in-a-row one-night-stand record but didn’t succeed that night.
I met up with Patty again and she helped me out at the phone store again. I told her to act angrily with the sales guy and tell him that she had been waiting for me a few times because my shit phone didn’t work – which had the advantage of actually being true. I got my money back and since I was really sick of the shitty phone situation I went over to a real Nokia store and bought a decent cell phone there, costing 200something dollars. It never worked out with Patty. We kissed all the time but she was not up for sex with me. Looking for a boyfriend probably. I was happy with my new phone and tried to arrange a last-minute date with a beautiful girl. We met in a mall and had lots of fun. I seemed to push the right buttons but I was cock-blocked by her parents, of all people, who came by the mall later. After saying goodbye to everyone in the hostel and feeling bad for leaving Rio, a city where I would gladly spend a year I took an early bus to Salvador.
Brazil – Salvador
Salvador, a place where, according to many Brazilians, I’d have to beat the local girls off with a stick. Being tall and blond was the magic formula to get laid here. I had already stopped believing any pick-up “advice” from locals. I stayed in a hostel in Pelinrinho, which many guide books pointed to as the tourist area of Salvador. The backpacker trail is a small world: I met a Japanese woman I had talked to before in Rio. There were also two Swedish girls and a Swedish guy travelling together. They were supposed to just be friends, but the guy and one of the girls were making out a few times. There were a couple of Japanese guys in the hostel too and I talked to them a bit. They were much exited that I had climbed Mount Fuji back in Japan, since it is the dream and almost the duty of every Japanese person to do that at least once in their life. Or so I was told by a Japanese girl.
On Tuesday there was a street party in Pelinrinho, which is right next to some favelas and quite dangerous after dark. The Tuesday night street party is famous and a must-see for foreign visitors. I went there with the three Swedes, one Japanese guy and one super-annoying guy from New Zealand everyone disliked but who kept inviting himself along.
The street party was very nice, lots of bands playing and thousands of people in the streets dancing and partying. I was being pretty cautious with my valuables, because Salvador is known as one of the most dangerous cities in Brazil and probably South America except maybe Caracas in Venezuela. The New Zealand guy got pick-pocketed and left early. I felt bad for him losing a brand new camera but kind of thought he wasn’t being careful enough. I had my phone with me, a camera and quite a lot of money in case I picked up a girl and needed money for a love hotel.
We went to a big square to see a wild reggae concert and that’s where trouble started. Some 14-year-old boy started dancing up to me and made indecent movements, grabbing his crotch and trying to ride up against me. I thought I was getting setup for being pick-pocketed and pushed him off. He did it again and I felt him touch my pockets so I pushed him off again while trying to protect my back pockets which I’d divided my money between. The boy was lighting fast and grabbed the camera out of the front pocket of my shorts. I immediately grabbed him by the throat and said “Give me my camera” to him. He looked shocked by my action and pretended he wanted to give it back to me. I let him loose and he quickly ran off. But this old dog is fast too and I chased after him through the thick crowd, grabbed him again and threw him to the pavement. I choked him quite hard and felt his pockets. My camera wasn’t there anymore and I wanted to give him an interrogation beating but then I realized half the ghetto was watching me. Lots of big muscular black dudes were staring at me while I was choking the life out of this drugged-up boy. I always act before I think and live by the ancient old rule of nature: An eye for an eye, but I realized that I was alone in the Salvadorian ghetto, surrounded by people who will protect their own and don’t have much to lose anyway. A three-year-old camera is not worth getting my ass beaten or killed for, and I let the boy go.
During the whole scuffle I was still holding a half-liter can of beer in my hand, even when I searched the pockets of the thief. I smashed the beer can on the ground and was furious. I was going home in two months and had protected my camera for two-and-a-half years and now it got stolen. All my pictures of Rio de Janeiro were gone and so were the last pictures I took in São Paulo. My pictures of me and Miss Brazil 2001 and lots of pictures I took for a business idea were gone too.
Most favela people were shocked by my brutal action, though one actually complimented me for not taking shit. The little boy, who was obviously already drugged up on glue or something, kept around us, teasing us, even snatching a cigarette out of my mouth. The boy had nuts the size of bowling balls to keep teasing us like that. He probably had a whole gang with him. He surely wasn’t alone, because he’d handed my camera to someone while I was busy with him.
The small group from the hostel I was with got scared of losing their stuff too and we left.
For the rest of the night I was a bit down. I now had to buy a new camera in a country where electronics are super-expensive. Buying a new camera would set me back at least $250 for a regular Sony Cybershot camera and I would be protecting a brand-new camera again. I had just paid over $200 for a new phone and I was running out of money fast.
I was expecting a lecture from one of the hostel people about beating that poor little third-world country boy who probably had to steal to survive but nobody dared to say anything to me. That was just as well for them, because I was definitely not in the mood for a hypocritical leftist lecture.
I think one of the Swedish girls was turned off by it but she didn't say anything. The Swedes were nice though. They were going to the holiday island Morro de São Paulo and I told them I would go there a day later.
I went to look for a camera in one of Salvador’s biggest malls. It was hell taking the local buses there and once inside I didn’t see that many hot girls around, and the cameras were horribly expensive, so I didn’t actually buy one. I left to the island Morro de São Paulo the next day.
Brazil – Morro de São Paulo
By high speed ferry the boat ride took two hours and the Swedes had already sent me the name of the guesthouse where they were staying. Morro de São Paulo is a holiday island recommended by many Brazilians. I first heard of it from the Brazilian girl I kissed in Cordoba and many others I met along my trip had mentioned it.
There were lots of couples on the island. There were so many of them it quickly became clear that this was a romantic getaway island. There were hardly any girls around without a boyfriend and I thought to myself Ok, I will try something with the Swedish girl and just lay on the beautiful beach a lot.
It was actually only the second beach I had visited in all my months in South America. I had been inland most of the time.
The first night there was nothing to do on the island and I stayed in the guesthouse. The guesthouse had dorms for twenty–five reals and after all the money I’d had to shell out in the last couple of days I thought it would be better to stay there and keep it cheap. That night the blonde skinny Swedish girl and I went out for a few drinks but since it was a small beach island there wasn’t much open and most beach bars closed at eleven. There was a small beach party going on and we drank some caiperinhas made of different fresh fruits, which were delicious and quite cheap.
I saw two hot Brazilian girls dancing at the beach party but didn’t bother talking to them because one of them looked like an obvious prostitute. She was an average-height dark-skinned girl and had an incredible round and tight ass. I saw her talking to some old guys and assume the other shorter girl was the same.
I decided to take a shot at the Swedish girl I knew from the hostel. She came to the party with me because the Swedish guy had the shits and the other girl stayed with him. The Swedish girl had a nice body but was a bitchy butterface. I had seen her ass in the hostel dorm when she was sleeping with her blanket off, and it looked great. But her attitude didn’t match her body and I couldn’t exactly figure out her position on me. I could see she was a bit jealous when she saw me talking to other girls. She kissed the gayest-looking guy ever and was boasting about it. The guy made a really gay comment about my rock star bracelet to me, I’m sure he at least liked both sides. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being gay.) I think she just enjoyed pissing me off, especially after she found out about my website when I talked about it with some tourist guys. She tried to make me jealous, saying things like “Oh, I’ve been with like thirty guys this year but you can’t have me”. Like I cared about her, I was just interested in fucking her and getting a Swedish flag. I was very close in Malaysia and New Zealand. Got them (semi)naked but couldn’t seal the deal. Her saying “I think I have to throw up” and kissing an ugly gay-looking guy didn’t exactly gave me a raging hard boner for her.
The shortest one of the two hot girls who were dancing at the beach walked up to me and began dancing with me. The Swedish girl looked pissed and walked back to the hostel.
The Brazilian hottie and I took a walk down the beach and kissed a bit. She didn’t speak any English at all. I had to talk my broken Spanish to her and hoped she understand what I was saying. When she spoke slowly I could follow most of her Portuguese. She spoke slowly but quite a lot. She was hardly quiet for even a moment and God knows what she was blabbering about all the time. She was real cute though.
I took her back to my dorm room, which I shared with a guy from Switzerland. I was sleeping in the lower bunk of one bed and he was in the top bunk of the other. I hung the sheet from the top bed over the side and we had some privacy. Jessica was only eighteen years old, maybe even a year younger but she said eighteen, some sixteen years younger than me. Her skin was dark and very soft. She had a rock-hard body with small but firm tits and a little round booty. Despite her young age she really knew how to fuck and was really into it. I made love to her three times in the hostel bed and banged my head again on the top bunk which instantly reminded me of sweet Marisol in Chile.
In the morning the Swiss guy walked in on us and I kindly asked him to leave the room for ten more minutes, which he did. He was a typical nice-guy, despite his large body full of tattoos – or insecurity hiders, as I call tattoos sometimes.
Jessica and I went to her small village by bus later that day and she showed me around a bit. In the afternoon we said goodbye and agreed to meet again later.
The owners told me not to bring guests into the dorm room anymore, and I played dumb. Of course I knew about the guesthouse’s rules but there was no night guard so I’d decided to bring the girl in anyway. If I got kicked out I could always go to another place. I wasn’t going to risk a lay out of fear of having to change guesthouses in the morning.
We agreed to meet again in the morning at my hostel but she didn’t show up. I bought a ticket at the guesthouse reception for the boat back to Salvador and just as I was about to leave, Jessica showed up, over an hour late. I felt awkward because I was about to ditch her but I turned it around, pointing out that she didn’t show up in time. (I used Google Translate on my laptop to get the hard parts across.) I canceled the boat ticket and I got a room in the same guesthouse for about thirty dollars. We went in the room and had sex for ages.
Having a big bed instead of a small lower bunk bed improved the sex a lot. Her body was amazing, with perfect proportions, and she fucked like a teenage porn star. We took a shower and walked out the room past the Swedish girl, who was sitting in the lobby. Jessica was wearing next to nothing, just a small sexy top and skintight shorts wedged really deep in her delicious ass and crotch. A camel-toe was showing pretty clearly. The Swedish girl tried to look indifferent but I could see she was not happy about it. I enjoyed the moment.
That day I spent with Jessica in her small village. We walked on a deserted beach, which was really enjoyable because this was the part regular tourists never visit. People were friendly and helpful. A guy friend of her tagged along and after a while I let her ask him to leave because I was horny as fuck. We couldn’t do it on the beach but I took some naked pictures of her. Later at night we went to a local discoteca, where no white man had ever gone before. Lots of girls were shaking it to the beats. The only downside was that it was in the middle of nowhere and I had to pay a lot for a taxi there and even more to get back. The barkeep asked me six dollars just to call a cab and then the taxi guy asked nine dollars for a three-kilometer ride.
We came back to the guesthouse and had sex again, and I also took some naked pictures of her again. I could beat myself up for having my camera stolen. She was up for a fuck video, but all I had was the camera on my phone, which wasn’t really good enough.
That morning we made love for the last time, but I had a hard time finishing because I’d overused my dick. She ripped off the condom and I did her raw. I’d only ever done that a couple of times but since she was very young I decided to risk it.
Afterwards she worried she might get pregnant and asked what to do if she was. I thought OK, here we go, that’s the catch, she wants money, but she didn’t ask for that. She just wanted to know if I would want to keep the baby. I said that in the unlikely circumstance that a baby was born, then I would take care of it. No blood of mine will grow up poor. I gave her one of my email addresses to write to me if she became pregnant. Jessica never asked me for anything else and was a really sweet and happy girl. I also never received an email saying she was pregnant.
The Argentine owners of the guesthouse were friendly, even after I brought that girl to the dorm and when they had to do some translating to help us out with the pregnancy questions. The guesthouse’s name is Pousada Pura Vida, and has both dorms and private rooms. If someone goes to Pura Vida, look for the messages I left on the sides of the fridge.
Jessica and I said goodbye and I took the boat back to Salvador.
Pelinrinho was definitely not seeing me again, so I went to a hostel close to the beach in Barra. I had set up a date already with a black girl from the Couchsurfing website but since I flaked on her the day before, she now flaked on me.
That day I walked around the beach a bit and walked past two girls who started giggling. One of them had a big ass but in a way you’d like it. I walked back and approached them. Up close I could see they were still in their late teens, but I tried anyway. The language barrier brought my attempt to a sudden stop and smiles and giggles were all I got before they went into ignore mode when I was out of words.
That night I went out with an Austrian guy but we couldn’t find a good place to go out and some bars were already closing down early. I took a bus in the morning to Belem, where I would start my river boat experience.
Brazil – Be
lem and the Amazon boat ride
The bus ride from Salvador to Belem took forty hours and there weren’t too many people on the bus, so it was easy to get talking with my fellow travellers. There were some cool Brazilian guys and one Colombian girl. The Colombian girl was a big black girl with huge boobs. Her shirt was quite tight and her nips were always pointing through it. After a while I asked her if I could sit down next to her and she said yes. We talked a bit in Spanish, the only language she knew. I could manage a half-decent conversation and by nightfall we both fell asleep. I turned my body towards her and rested my hand on her side. The five-second test had begun. She didn’t move my hand or say anything about it, so my hand went exploring her body a bit. She pulled a big blanket over so no-one could see it. I was holding and squeezing those big black boobs all night but didn’t want to move my hand lower since she didn’t shower the night before and we were sweating in the bus all day. I kissed her a bit and rubbed over her jeans. She was obviously horny. I asked her if she wanted share a room with me and she said yes.
We got off the bus in the middle of the night and me, her and a few Brazilian guys waited for daylight and running buses. Some cigarettes, a few coffees and a dump later it was daylight and we were almost on our way to a guesthouse when a girlfriend from Belem called her and she decided to stay with her. We agreed to meet again later but she pulled a Colombian flake on me. Still no flag.
At the Belem hostel I met the Japanese woman from Salvador again. I stayed there two days. I went out once with the girl working in the hostel and some dudes and played some pool, but it was a very slow night.
My plan was to take the riverboat down the Amazon River to Manaus. I went to the harbor and found the boats after lots of walking around in 38-degree sun. There were guys around selling boat tickets but I didn’t trust them much. Anyone can show me a laminated plastic card and say they represent the boat company, and the girl at the hostel had made me expect much higher prices than they were offering. Actually she was the one trying to con me, since she just wanted to sell me some tickets herself.
Around the World in 80 Girls: The Epic 3 Year Trip of a Backpacking Casanova Page 43