My bed-rest did not go down well with my fellow hostel guests. Most irked was an Argentinian woman in her thirties who could speak decent English and referred to everyone as “baby”. She came into our room on my second day, while I was resting, and said hi to all the other guys in the room. I got the sense she’d been there before. That night we went to a Samba performance somewhere in the neighbourhood of Rio Vermelho. The place was intimate, like we were at someone’s house, watching the dancing and drumming in their back garden.
I retreated to my bed for the majority of the next two days. Not sick, but fatigued, I only left to get food. This lady gave her withering critique of my style of travel early on.
“You’re in Salvador baby, not just lie in bed on computer, go to beach, go to Pelourinho, go to party, dance, drink, come on, it’s Salvador baby.”