OK this will be a chirpy blog - honest - but the darkness has to be explained before the dawn has any significance. A few of you may have noticed a hint of negativity in the previous blogs from South America, more from me than Rachelle. To be frank I did not enjoy the first week in the continent, it was a struggle to even go out for a drink. Even in the bright sunlight Brazil seemed grey and uninteresting clouded by my discomfort and irritation. Jetlag was the initial scapegoat but as my sleep improved but my mood didn't, was I sick of traveling? Done with fun? Could I possibly be too jaded to enjoy one of the most vibrant cultures in the world?

To be fair the dark side of Brazil didn't help. For every good experience (the Pantanal, our day of decadence in Brasilia) there were bedbugs, 20+ hour bus journeys and the constant threat of crime hammered home by every guidebook, hostel noticeboard and fellow traveler to drag me back into the fog. This is not a good mindset to approach Salvador a strong competitor in the 'dodgiest city in Brazil' title race every year and from which a good proportion of the horror stories passed around travelers campfires originate.

So this is where the tone turns, my gradual epiphany. Salvador is every bit as vibrant and dangerous as the books suggest. The main tourist area, the Pelourinho is heaving with music, bars, bright colours, beautiful colonial architecture and locals eager to separate you from your tourist dollar by fair means or foul. It is however a creation just for the tourists patrolled heavily by police and only a few ill advised minutes from less welcoming streets, this bothered me. Then one evening I went to get my hair cut and as the barber bounced up and down behind me, dancing while he trimmed my hairline with a straight razor, I finally identified my feelings as simple culture shock. Two months in English speaking countries (I am being generous to our Aussie friends) seems to have robbed me of the ability to adjust. The problem is not Brazil, it's me.

A simple realization with a simple solution, my attitude had to change. Salvador was exactly the same - our visit to the beach was limited to the relatively safe beachfront road and a shady bar to hide from the midday sun but all of a sudden I was content and felt able to take whatever the continent could throw at me even if it was potentially a mugging. Now Brazil decided to chip in with my rehabilitation. We decided to take the ferry to an island called Morro de Sao Paulo, 30 miles south of Salvador. Almost a cliché of a tropical island with one main street covered with sand and no motorized transport at all. Taxis consist of wheelbarrows with amazingly fit guys willing to push your luggage to your hotel for a nominal fee. The four days eased by, beach, hammock, cocktail, evening walk, swim, water, beer, the occasional run on the beach in no particular order or significance. The remnants of the fog lifted and I felt revitalized. Perhaps this is a process that all travellers go through to a greater or lesser extent but I feel more confident and positive, in fact I am bursting with excitement about the rest of the trip. Bring it on!

Ciao amigos, hasta manana.

Love Antony & Rachelle (mainly Antony this time)