My plan for the last week and a half in Brazil (and South America) had been set in stone (or rather in hostel- and flight bookings) since early November. So the day before Christmas, I left Paraty on a far-too-early 10am bus for the 2 hour ride to Angra dos Reis. We arrived just in time to catch the noon speedboat to the island – more expensive than the schooner but that wasn’t leaving till 3 and Angra dos Reis did not look like an exciting place underneath a cloudy grey sky that was about to pour rain on us at any second.

And once safely delivered to Ilha Grande, it wasn’t long after I had managed to lug myself and all my luggage across the beach to my hostel before the rain did indeed set in. And it continued all afternoon long. And I wasn’t really expecting to be spending Christmas in Brazil in that kind of weather so I was really crossing my fingers that this wasn’t what would be in store for the upcoming 4 days.

But then, as I got up on the 24th (I don’t know what ‘Juleaftensdag’ is called in English… Just ‘Christmas’ maybe? Because that’s what it is: real Christmas, not that 25th nonsense. All of Brazil is on my side!), the clouds slowly started letting through some sunshine! Yay! Like a true Christmas miracle!

I spent the day trekking along one of the trails to get to Praia Lopes Mendes – supposedly one of the prettiest beaches in the world. I ran into the lovely Irish couple I had chatted to at the BBQ at the hostel next door the night before so there is therefore photographic proof of where I was at Christmas 2014. Not flattering proof but proof nonetheless. We saw an armadillo along the way (and yes, the ‘holiday armadillo’ jokes were covered) but it moved out of the way too fast so there is no photographic evidence of that.

We spent the evening at the buffet at a restaurant in town and had drinks at a little beach bar so it was an all round lovely way to spent the day given that I wasn’t going to be in the company of my lovely family in Denmark.

The rest of my time on Ilha Grande was spent on beaches, eating açaí, and on a boat tour around the island which resulted in some pretty noticeable skin colour change (not red though! A belated Christmas miracle! Or proof that sunscreen works. One or the other). And I tried switching my DSLR back on. And it worked! The Christmas miracles just kept on coming! I realise this might not be permanent but for now, it’s back on track.

Next, it was time to head to Rio – officially my last stop in South America. I booked it with EasyTransfer because it was nearly the same price as doing the boat/bus combination independently and the minivan would drop me straight at the door of my Botafogo hostel. I arrived in the late afternoon, checked in, realised Rio was freakishly hot and made a day-by-day plan of what I needed to do and see. That involved a trip to Christ the Redeemer (where I tagged along with the nicest Brazilian family), a free walking tour through downtown, the hippie market at Ipanema (nowhere near hippie enough for me in case anyone is wondering), Sugar Loaf mountain (just two hours of queuing in the midday sunshine, I’m totally cut out for that), watching the sunset over Ipanema beach from Pedra do Arpoardor and a favela tour. The favela tour was by far the most interesting thing I did. It started at the top of the hill of the Rocinha favela (the biggest in Rio) and then we walked down to the bottom in about 2 hours, visiting an art gallery/workshop, listening to the best live drumming I’ve heard ever and stopping for snacks (cake and açaí). Our guide was great, he knew most of the people we came across and made us feel totally safe but reminding us that while most people who live there are genuine and friendly, the drug cartels are still in charge and knew where we were every step of the way (13 gringos with cameras).

And then I saw in 2015. On Copacabana beach. As only Brazilians know how to do it. Réveillon is quite the party and the fireworks at midnight were just unbelievable. Surprisingly, given that it’s Brazil, no caipirinhas were involved but other drinks definitely were. So Jan 1st was pretty much a write-off, I walked to Copacabana but it was so hot I couldn’t face beach time so bought a coconut and walked back to Botafogo and found some shade.

Departure day was spent packing – my backpack and the massive box I had to buy at the post office because I needed to post some things home and they didn’t have a smaller one. Good excuse to fill it then, I guess. So 6kg ended up going – including Christmas presents for my parents, the scrapbook I’ve been gluing all kinds of things into since I first arrived in Colombia, the cold-weather clothes I won’t be needing anymore and a few bits of clothing I couldn’t quite face throwing out (I’ve gone soft on that since Guatemala). Thankfully, Brazilian post is pretty cheap when you pick economy post so I bet it’ll take longer for that parcel to reach England than it will for me.

And now I’m sitting in Rio’s airport and I am feeling sadder than I thought I would. I can’t work out how much of it is a mood come-down from New Years and how much of it is because I’m realising I don’t know when I’ll next be back on this continent.

Brazil was very different from the rest if the countries I visited so part of me feels like I left one South America behind a month ago and am now saying goodbye to another. The 3 weeks I have spent in Brazil have felt more manic, busier and less calm (mostly in a good way) than any other place but I don’t feel like I’ve even seen very much of it. And to be fair, in the scheme of Brazil, I’ve barely scratched the surface.

I’ll do Brazil again another time for sure – the north coast, the Pantanal and the Amazon are entirely different creatures to what I got to see. But mostly I’ll do it again because I really like the spirit in Brazil, the people. I like the pride Cariocas have in their city. I like caipirinhas. I like that it’s the kind of place that makes it very hard not to have a permanent smile on your face. I don’t like that I couldn’t communicate properly with anyone local (although I’m getting better at twisting my Spanish pronunciation so they can tell I’m trying which means they speak slightly slower. Not that I understand much more for that reason) or the humid 38 degree temperatures that descend on Rio this time of year (I seriously haven’t seen my ankles in about a week) but let’s face it, those are my issues, not Brazil’s. I can’t think of any clever parting words so I’ll just say I can’t wait till we meet again!

Today I’m listening to: Lorde – Tennis Court (Flume Remix)