Campos do Jordão

One last getaway for the year! We made our way to the mountains and settled into Campos do Jordão, a charming city with Swiss style. 

Travel tip: When beginning a road trip, always leave at nap time. 

Those droopy heads didn't stay that way as long as they were supposed to, but we survived the drive thanks to generous amounts of Greg's homemade kettle corn. Do whatcha gotta do.

The view from our hotel was unbelievable, even (especially?) through rain-drenched windows.

Priority for night #1: Use up all the energy 

Long car rides build quite the reserve, but the swimming pool did not let us down. Every body was tired by bedtime :)

Day Two:

The rain cleared! And yes, more pictures of this view because LOOK AT THIS VIEW. 

First stop: The Enchanted Forest! We toured the tiny homes of Snow White, Peter Rabbit, and Santa Claus (to name a few).

And we ate lunch, with this view, the entire restaurant to ourselves because… we’re still in Brazil, on an American schedule.

We spent the afternoon downtown admiring the architecture, Christmas decorations, and oh so much chocolate. 

The cheek-smush was London's preferred hug of the day :)

Waiting for the train to arrive, getting acquainted with new friends.

Now let me introduce you to the train-bus, the terror of the roads. Encountering one of these beasts on the narrow, twisty roads is a memory-maker. I'm just thankful we're alive to tell you about them.

Day Three:

We must begin with the view, again.

Parque Amantikir, a gorgeous botanical garden, was our last outing before heading home.

We're trapped in the maze! We're never getting out!

Just kidding, we're good :)

This maze was much more manageable...

Again with the view, I know. We reside in a city of 21 million people... I could not get enough of this view.

Kids are tired of posing and tuckered out... Time to head home!

Salvador

We snuck away for a week back in August!

Day One: A mid-day flight and stormy sunset on the coast. Hello vacation!

Day Two: Our first morning at the beach – Praia do Porto da Barra! Then a ride on the historic Elevador Lacerda and visit to the massive Mercado Modelo (not pictured, oops!).

Day Three: We spent the morning exploring the picturesque historic center, Pelourinho.

Afternoon refresh at Coffeetown, followed by a stroll through Praça Dois de Julho. *No, that is not me holding my son… that would be the lady from the next table over. Blonde hair and blue eyes spark spontaneous childcare in this city :)

Day Four: Another morning, another beach – Praia Rio Vermelho.

The afternoon started with a climb inside the local lighthouse (Farol da Barra) and ended with the sunset and popcorn.

Day Five: Another morning at the park.

Of course we brought games. Baby bro has to nap sometime :)

Then another visit to the grassy knoll of Morro do Cristo.

Day Six: Praia do Farol da Barra, snacking on grilled cheese sticks!

It was lovely and I'm the only one that came home with a sunburn... :)

One year.

One year ago today, we stepped off of an airplane, together.

The flight attendant at the door asked if I’d ever been to Brazil. I’m sure my wild eyes (anticipation? hope? naivety? All of it. It was all of it.) gave away my calm exterior, but I simply shook my head, no. Beautiful country, he said. Beautiful people, too.

Trying to remember that first day feels a bit like trying to recall our wedding day. Two drivers met us at the airport. They drove our family, seven suitcases, four carry-ons, two car seats, and one large box (a to-be Christmas gift) toward the heart of the city.

I stole glances out the window while dispersing our dwindling snack supply to the toddler and nursing the hungry babe.

It wasn’t a particularly welcoming view.

We arrived at the apartment mid-morning, weary, hungry. Our relocation specialist, Ivana, was waiting for us, along with her extensive agenda. She had obviously not spent the last 20 hours traveling with two littles. A flood of questions, directions, tours, and explanations washed over us. My wild eyes, lost in the sea of information.

By the time we were left to ourselves, it was nearly 2 pm. Too exhausted to look for food, we fell eagerly into the rented beds we would call our own for the next two months. Eventually though, hunger roused us from sleep. Our last meal had been the in-flight breakfast nearly ten hours ago. Greg set to the street and, being the hero that he is, brought back to this family two huge cheeseburgers and French fries. They were destroyed instantaneously.

A few hours later we ventured out as a family, freshly showered but still. so. hungry. We walked no more than a block before the lights of Le Pepe drew us in. The owner warmly welcomed us and, after a few hesitant hand gestures, called down her English-speaking daughter. We learned the restaurant was just closing, but her mom wanted us to stay. They settled us into their quaint café, eager to hear our story and, when the food arrived, whisked London away so we could eat in peace.

***

That day… It feels ancient now.

This city has tried us and surprised us and changed us in simple, excruciating and beautiful ways.

For instance, I now drink my tea with a splash of milk.

We buy (and eat and love) persimmon.

We sing bedtime songs by the window, gazing out over city lights and (sometimes) flowing traffic.

When it’s time to leave, Cora asks if we’re taking our car or an Uber.And because Uber, the car seats my kids use most often are my own arms.

We hand wash every fork, plate, pot, spatula, measuring spoon, and glass (ie: all the dishes, all the days).

We walk to the bakery, to the “little market,” and to Starbucks.

London races to the window at the hum of a helicopter landing nearby.

Cora increasingly blends bits of Portuguese into her conversations.

We have been met and moved to tears by the care of people we cannot understand.

We have hid from a fair share of fears, but we have also bravely faced so. darn. many.

We have spent an obscene amount of our free time processing and reflecting, listening and supporting.

We have experienced the (disappointingly) shallow depths of our own patience, love, and grace - and also the unending depths of HIS.

Somehow, in the course of one year, this stranger-of-a-city has made a place for us. It has become home, though most of our walls hold nothing but off-white paint, still.