Brazil holds a very special place in my heart. I lived there for almost two years, years that now feel like a waking dream. My home was Natal, that luminous city in the northeast where sunlight touches everything differently. I woke up with the sun, walked barefoot by the sea, tasted the sweetest, freshest fruits, and shared them with curious birds and small bats flying between the trees. Each day had a calm, gentle rhythm, as if time itself was breathing alongside me.
During that period, I became close to a community that practiced Candomblé and the rituals of Jurema Sagrada. It was an experience I never imagined I would live.
Candomblé honors the orixás, forces of nature that seem to awaken with every drumbeat. Jurema is an intense Indigenous tradition, full of symbols that speak without words.
Watching the atabaques begin to play, calling the orixás, feeling the rhythm grow, seeing people slowly enter trance states… some receiving spirits, dancing, singing, even speaking to you and offering messages from beyond. To believe or not to believe, that is the question. But the truth is, the energy was there. You could feel it vibrating in the air, on your skin, in your bones. Trying to explain it afterward feels almost impossible. Those gatherings were deeply powerful. A universe of gods, energies and unfamiliar languages, where a piece of my heart chose to stay. It was one of the most transformative experiences of my life. It opened new ways of understanding faith, identity and the body.
Because I was living in Brazil during the coronavirus period and couldn’t return to Europe, I stayed. And that “staying” became the perfect opportunity to explore. I discovered ancient rock art thousands of years old in Xique-Xique National Park, walked through Recife, breathed in the breeze of João Pessoa, and lost myself on the beaches of Pipa, São Miguel do Gostoso, Genipabu, Porto de Galinhas, and so many other small seaside towns that seemed designed to make you stay just one more day.
I also spent time in one of Brazil’s most magical places: Rio de Janeiro, that vibrant city embracing one of the seven modern wonders of the world, Christ the Redeemer. Rio is color, music, life, and a delicious kind of chaos that pulls you in. Ipanema is pure movement. People walking, street vendors, music coming from improvised speakers, waves that seem to dance samba. It carries a chic energy, golden bodies, and sunsets that paint the sky in soft shades of orange. It’s a place you have to experience at least once in your life.
On another journey, I traveled to the Amazon, a world that breathes on its own. Unique animals, endless green, sounds coming from every direction. The air feels heavier, more humid, more alive. Being there feels like stepping onto a different planet.
Further south, the Iguazú Falls were waiting for me, a spectacle that leaves you speechless. The roar of the water crashing down as if the earth itself were breathing deeply. There, where Brazil meets Argentina and Paraguay. I did that route by motorcycle, and it was unforgettable. The road felt like it was opening into another dimension, as if the world were revealing its secrets step by step. Reaching the Marco das Três Fronteiras, standing there and seeing the three countries at once, was a reminder that traveling also expands the soul.
