“When people say that first impressions are important, they’re actually implying first impressions can hit like a brick.” – Old Sean
Welcome to Brazil
After my month in Peru, I made the decision to move to Brazil for a couple of months.
I ended up landing in Sao Paulo, which is just a… terrible first impression for Brazil. I ended up staying in the supremely worn-down central area and the number of homeless tents that ring city attractions is daunting. Many of the tents are completely reinforced with giant billowing black trash bags, giving the city a sickly, pulsating look in low winds.
In most places I’ve been to in the world, there are generally nice or worn or desolate city areas with islands of dangerous zones. The tell-tale signs are universal. Bars on windows, barbed wire on walls, large, opaque privacy walls, repetitive graffiti, people walking swiftly with goods clutched and phones tucked into waistbands to deter pickpockets and a stunning lack of children on foot with parents are all the ultimate warning signs for a dangerous urban space.
Sao Paulo was absolutely filled with them. Walking from place to place isn’t just a hefty bit of unreasonable exercise, it’s also downright stupid. Uber and trains are probably safest, but valuables need to be mostly covered and there can be absolutely nothing except a decoy wallet in a back pocket.
A Day in Sao Paulo
I arrived in Sao Paulo and ended up spending nearly five hours at the airport. The Guarulhos (GRU) Airport is going to be featuring in my nightmares for the immediate future. I spent hours trudging in a line that doubled back and forth across the entire length of the customs area fourteen times.
It took me half an hour to cross the room. I ended up passing the plodding time chatting with an American named Ethan and his girlfriend, McKenzie. Both of them, sadly, missed their connecting flight to Rio, so poorly is GRU managed.
When we finally won free (once all the Brazil nationals got through their lines, the foreign arrival line sped up considerably) I said my goodbyes and exhaustedly summoned an Uber to take me to my hotel.
It was a nice hotel, but there was a security guard out front, a card scanner on the elevator, a secondary scanner for my door, a ticket puncher used to obtain a daily continental breakfast and the interior of my room had two deadbolts. I had unintentionally slept for most of the ride to my hotel, so I hadn’t seen the sorry state of Sao Paulo‘s cityscape yet.
A Moment on Foot
A half hour later, I would remedy that in extreme detail. Directly outside my hotel, garbage had openly collected like a drab-colored puddle of torn rubbish and stink. People moved with an almost intense purpose, and I found nobody loitering unless they were directly in front of their workplace with a cigarette dangling from their lips.
I first made my way to the nearby Monastery of St. Benedict, a operational church famous for producing and selling specialized beer and bread. The interior of the vaulted church is stunning and gorgeous and the bread which can be bought here (slightly pricey) is delicious and worth a snack.
But directly across the thin plaza area are more tents, trash bag shelters and people hawking wares on pinned-down blankets. This is actually one of the nicer portions of the tourist zone, but it’s still a struggle and heart-wrench to walk through.
The area also has several overlooks such as the Viaduto Santa Ifigenia, which overlooks the cityscape in either direction. However, this part of the city has seen better days. Huge sections of blocky, tall buildings are laden with graffiti in impossibly high places, thin streaks of crudely-drawn black razing the sides. In the same zone, there’s the downright storybook building with spires and church windows, Paroquia Nossa Senhora da Conceicao Santa Ifigenia.
As interesting at the tall and rough architecture was, it’s almost impossible not to people-watch in Sao Paulo. Dressed for tropics, the people of Sao Paulo are a really diverse, lean-looking bunch. All walked swiftly and had a certain action-oriented lean to them.
Clothing wasn’t the formal and upscale-casual work attire of a major walking metropolitan, it was the casual clothes that could stand up to motion and movement. Homeless people frittered about, avoiding the crowds, skateboarders dressed minimally while launching off of concrete blocks, hawkers wore breezy button-downs open with tank tops under them and retail folks swerved in an out of crowds in uniforms. The only children I spotted were camped in the thin tent cities that took up every unoccupied walking space.
Cautious Exploring
At this point, I began to lock onto the central vibe of Sao Paulo. It’s like New York in the 80’s, with superstructures and crime not bothering to shadow itself and a whole lot of sharp, sharp character. The issue is that Sao Paulo puts my hackles straight up. I don’t believe in danger lurking around every corner and I don’t have a problem going to slightly sketchy parts of the world, but Sao Paulo put my teeth on edge, and it wasn’t a sensation that edged.
It’s also not a sensation I generally ignore. I walked at a clipped pace until I reached Rua Sao Bento, which is sort of a narrow pedestrian street laden with cafes and tiny restaurants. It’s marginally nicer, but slightly crowded and I found myself mostly unable to relax. I did manage to duck into a restaurant for lunch, where I got something called Bolinho de Bacalhau (little cod ball) which is a deep fried bread ball with fishy bits on the interior. It was delicious and soothed me enough to walk to the next landmark, the famous Sao Paulo Cathedral.
A Glancing Visit
Which was a mistake I quickly backpaddled from. Homeless tent cities decorate most of central Sao Paulo. At the Cathedral, they swamp the surrounding area to such an extent that trash has piled and the people passing out small baggies of toiletries are sanitary saviors.
I barely glanced at the Cathedral, it’s tall visage doing nothing to help the people lounging on the stone steps in small pockets of tattered people.
Jesus, Sao Paulo.
Disgruntled by early forays and gradually feeling my mood sour and pang with each person I passed, I opted to try out a nicer part of the city a friend had recommended.
Almost Upscale
I checked out Livraria da Vila in the extremely upscale Cerqueira Cesar neighborhood. It was the first time I felt my instincts settle somewhat and I felt okay walking about unmolested. Granted, there were still a fair number of homeless people hanging about and a couple of guys approached me with entirely too much cheer for simple greetings, but I was able to navigate the area much more calmly.
With this in mind, I took another car to the mildly famous Beco do Batman, a graffiti art ally of some renown. I walked around here for a while before making my final stop at Museum of Art of Sao Paulo Assis Chateaubriand. To reach this area, I walked through the supremely nice, shady and dense trees of Parque Tenente Siqueira Campos. It was a soothing sort of walk, but as soon as I reached the main road once more, I felt my guard go up and lock in.
Sao Paulo is a mildly unnerving supercity. More crowds, more signs of caution and more tent cities on sidewalks. I didn’t spend long in the Museum since my bus was leaving in a few hours, but I ended up spending my remaining time in Starbucks before catching a final Uber back to my hotel.
Self-Secure
I took virtually no photos of Sao Paulo for several reasons. Firstly, my phone after extensive travel from Lima didn’t have the juice, and I wasn’t too keen on carrying it around the city-maze anyway. Secondly, my decoy phone is still too nice to flash around. I decided to primarily use it for just directions. And finally, Brazil offers me a unique experience in South America. I don’t stand out terribly much.
In other parts of Central and South America, I’m easily pegged as a gringo virtually everywhere I go. In Sao Paulo, there’s a sizable Caucasian population, making me blend easily. It’s a somewhat strange experience I haven’t gotten a strong taste of since visiting Canada and Europe.
That being said, I don’t think I have a reason to return to Sao Paulo, with the possible exception of a flight ticket out of country. My friends assure me that other parts of the city are better, but I’m ready to call it for now.
I’m heading to my new home for the month, Blumenau, a small German settlement to the south. I’ll be spending considerable time there relaxing and working to build up some funds for a while.
Until then,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written December 4th 2021
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Ten years ago, I abandoned my military surplus store backpack for a Farpoint 40 Osprey Travel Pack. I’ve never replaced my bag since. Two years ago, I bought two more Osprey Backpacks for my younger siblings on their first tour outside the country. I have nothing but praise for Osprey Products.
