So, I just got back from Salvador, and wow, where do I even begin? If you're ever contemplating the best things to do in Salvador, just take a leap. Honestly, I had my doubts before I went—the whole trip felt a bit spontaneous. A beach in Brazil, especially one with the history and vibrancy of Salvador, sounded great in theory, but part of me wondered if it'd live up to the hype. Would it be crowded? Would I lose my bag? Would I even make friends? Spoiler alert: yes to all of those questions, and in the best possible ways.
This spot? Total surprise.
Let me tell you about this little café called Café do Mercado. I stumbled in, mostly because I was cold and tired from wandering around the Mercado Modelo. At first, I thought, “This will be just another overpriced cup of coffee and a awkward language barrier moment.” But let me tell you—this place was like a warm hug. The barista was super friendly, and he could see I was struggling with the menu. Honestly, I didn't even know what half the items were. He just laughed and handed me a willing cup of something purple. “Açaí,” he said. I thought, why not?
And wow. It was like a sorbet met a smoothie in the best possible way. We sat there, sharing this weird mix of English and Portuguese, and I felt like I'd uncovered a local secret. Even with the language gaps, I could feel the warmth of the place and the people. Sometimes, you don't realize how much you need those little surprises in your day until they slap you right in the face.
The afternoon that changed my whole mood
Then, there was this one afternoon when I was in a bit of a funk. You know those days when you feel tired and a tiny bit lonely? I was wandering around Pelourinho with no direction, just kind of dragging my feet. I wasn't really taking it all in—just sort of going through motions, making sure my phone wasn't in my back pocket and hoping no one would try to talk to me.
But then, out of nowhere, a group of musicians started playing on the street. I think they were doing an homage to samba, but honestly, I couldn't quite put my finger on it. The rhythm was infectious, and even though I initially thought, “Ugh, another tourist trap,” I found myself inching closer. I felt my heart starting to lift with each beat. Before I knew it, I was bobbing my head, and this lovely local woman next to me laughed and grabbed my hand. She pulled me into the circle.
I stumbled and tripped over my own feet while trying to dance, but who cares? At that moment, it felt like the whole city wrapped around me, leaving my doubts behind. Sometimes you just need an unexpected jolt of energy from a complete stranger to remind you that life is too short to hold back on joy.
I almost missed this, no thanks to my bad sense of direction
Talking about random stuff, if there's one thing I really learned about traveling? It's that my sense of direction is absolutely atrocious. I was trying to find this legendary street vendor selling acarajé—everyone told me it's a must-try. I'm pictured in my mind, navigating my way, thinking I can handle it. Fast forward: I'm hopelessly lost, taking a million wrong turns, and it starts drizzling. I almost gave up and decided to head back to my hotel, feeling defeated.
But as luck would have it, right when I was about to pull out Google Maps again, I found this tiny art gallery on the corner. It wasn't on any list I had seen. The colors were vibrant, and I felt that same cool energy from earlier. I wandered inside and struck up a conversation with the owner who had this maracatu-inspired furniture scattered around. It was completely unplanned and turned out to be one of those serendipitous moments. I walked away with a unique little piece that symbolizes the chaos of my day. Who could've thought a wrong turn would lead me to something so meaningful?
Eventually, I did find my way to the acarajé stand, and it was everything they said it would be. Crunchy on the outside, filled with spicy shrimp—it felt like the best reward after my minor adventure. But honestly? The journey to get there was probably more memorable than the food itself.
No words for this meal
And then there was the night I dined at this cozy little restaurant called O Bar da Raquel. Remember how I said I wasn't expecting much? I was just debating whether I should hit the fancy-sounding places I couldn't afford or keep it simple. I chose the latter. I sat down, and the waiter came over with a huge smile. “What's good here?” I asked, rather naively.
He recommended moqueca, and wow, the flavors exploded in my mouth. When they brought it out, it was in this incredible, sizzling clay pot. I mean, it almost felt like a theater performance. You know when you take a bite, and it makes you close your eyes in pleasure? That was me, sitting there, savoring every mouthful of that coconut-infused goodness. I felt like I could taste the ocean.
In a twist of fate, I ended up chatting with a couple at the next table, and we shared stories about our lives, dreams, and ridiculous travel blunders. They were from Australia, and we ended up bonding over particularly odd things—like whether or not we could tolerate certain seafood textures. The conversations flowed, too. The meal became more than just food; it was a collective experience.
Wrapping it up with coffee
Before I knew it, I was back at Café do Mercado, savoring another one of those açaí treats, going over everything I'd experienced. All the doubts I had before leaving melted away, each delicious morsel reminding me how the messy, unplanned aspects of travel often create the best memories.
As I sipped my coffee, I realized that Salvador wasn't just about tourist traps or historical sites; it was about kindness, connection, and a few wonderful surprises along the way. As I finished my drink, I thought about how a simple trip could have such a profound impact, and I felt that tings of gratitude swell within me. And isn't that what it's all about in the end?
