Two Backpacks

            Our four-and-a-half-hour journey on the executive FlixBus is comfortable and uneventful. The scenery was again breathtaking, especially once we left the plateau and descended once more to sea level. I only wish I’d managed to book the front seats, as some of the sea views, tiny coves and rugged coast were wonderful.

            The first indication that we’re nearing our destination is the appearance of skyscrapers, looking like a concrete army protecting the seashore.

            Located on an island, we cross the bridge and pull into the Florianopolis bus station a few minutes later. It’s only a short walk from the interstate terminal to the local bus terminal, where we pause to work out which bus we need to take to Tucano Hostel.

            I set off to find someone who could tell me which bus I needed to catch while Ron goes to restock on bottles of water and snacks.

            A helpful attendant in the main waiting area advises that the bus I want is 320 or 330. ‘It takes you up that hill and down the other side to the lagoon and terminates at the bus station there. You can either walk to the hostel or catch the 360 bus, getting off at the Texaco garage,’ my helpful new friend advises.

            We arrive at Tucano Hostel without any problems and go through the now familiar routine of checking in, handing over our passports and lugging our bags upstairs to our room, this time on the first floor.

            Florianopolis is a huge party island, and the hostel has everything well organised for those wanting to party the night away. At reception, there’s a list of all the parties happening, and the hostel arranges transport to and from your chosen venue.

            The hostel also offers evening meals at very reasonable prices. On our arrival, it was BBQ night.

            ‘Let’s put our names down,’ I suggest, feeling tired after our bus journey and not wanting to go out looking for a restaurant.

            We’re so pleased we did! The food is excellent, offering chicken, steak and sausages, and salads and dessert.

            We spend five days doing very little, partly because of a bug I’ve picked up, leaving me very tired.

            However, we did manage a bus ride (No.564) south to Pantano do Sul. The village sits on the hillside with tiny restaurants dotted along the shoreline. We chose Bar do Arante, located on the beachfront, with views across the bay.

            Besides wonderfully fresh seafood, the bar is also known for the thousands of notes and cards pinned to every inch of the restaurant. Once we’ve eaten our fill and washed our meal down with a couple of beers, we decide to walk along the beach.

            The incoming tide brings a welcome cooling breeze to the heat of the day. After our filling meal, we both need a walk, so we decide to stroll along the shoreline before catching the bus back to the city.

            At the hostel, we pack once more. Tomorrow, we will leave on the bus to Buenos Aires, a twenty-five-hour trip that will be our longest bus journey yet.