Postcard from Brazil: Exploring Jericoacoara

Last Sunday, my cousin Drew and I hopped a bus bound for Jericoacoara, a prized beach town 150 miles to the northwest of Fortaleza.

Due to stops and passing through small villages, it took about five hours to reach the junction point of Jijoca. Once there, we loaded our bags onto the top of a jardineira (open-sided 4WD truck with row benches) for a final transfer.

There were about 50 tourists who shared our very bumpy, hour plus trek north to the ocean, then westward along the coast on unpaved tracks through sand dunes into Jeri, as it’s known.

Jeri’s hard-to-reach location entices travelers with its combination of spectacular coastal scenery, exciting activities, good-value pousadas and restaurants, and salubrious nightlife.

The entire village’s streets are all of sand and the overlapping area is protected as a national park. It is closed to unauthorized vehicles and is entirely barefoot-friendly to pedestrians.

The steady, strong trade winds make Jericoacoara a world-class destination for kite surfing and windsurfing, and have spawned a whole infrastructure of kite schools, and kite safaris.

I dragged my bag through the sands that rendered its wheels useless, and our pousada attendant simply walked us into our room and wished us boa noite (goodnight) instantly upon arrival.

We strolled the main Rua Principal that night and came upon its opening to the beach, with its gauntlet of caipirinha cocktail carts. We enjoyed a few of them with fresh fruits and by night’s end found ourselves sitting in a bonfire circle on the beach with six young French monsieurs and mademoiselles.

The must-do activity is a saunter out to the majestic Por do Sol (Sunset) dune, a towering mountain of sand that affords stunning sunsets. It is here that Jeri’s allure climaxes: a crowd swells—drinks in hand from enterprising locals with their cocktail carts. It’s one of those rare locations where you can see the green flash ‘Emerald Sunset’ phenomenon, when the tip of the setting sun turns bright green for the last moment before it slides below the horizon.

The crowds cheer as the sun bids adieu and then everyone chooses to either walk the side slope down to the beach or take the steep vertical descent that runs parallel to it.

Drew and I decided to take a Yves Klein leap of faith as we’d seen a few daredevils trying it. So we started about 20 yards back from the edge and ran full throttle like Thelma and Louise, leaping out high over the lip. Well, Drew sticks his landing, but I, on the other hand, overshoot the back-heeled approach and go tumbling ass-over-teacups to a grand final whomp face-plant, belly-flop thud on the unforgiving sands. I tumbled another 50 feet or so and sunk into an upright position with my bell totally rung. After shaking out the cobwebs for 10 stupefying minutes or so, I was able to stumble down the rest of the way and out to the beach below. Drew and I could eventually share laughter over it, and he reminded me of the line from our favorite Jack Kerouac novel “Dharma Bums” about not being able to “fall off a mountain.”

Two nights in a row we sat on the beach and caught the lua (moon) do its own splashdown into the sea. These cool sightings we had to ourselves and talked as Scorpio and Sagittarius followed suit and the Great Square of Pegasus rose at our backs over top of Jeri.

We witnessed the lopsided 7-1 Germany victory over Brazil in a quaint restaurant, and its result balloon-burst the air of revelry from the faithful that led into it. At least our camarao do abacaxi (cooked shrimp with a cream sauce inside a carved-out pineapple) was worth cheering for.

Another major highlight of our trip was a hike out to see Pedra Furada, a volcanic rock pile with a signature arched doorway that straddles the coastline. We walked sandy trails on massive dunes covered with scrub bushes and cacti through whistling winds, as the scene resembled a Malibu landscape to reach it.

We took pictures of it and then climbed the steep dune hillside, where we plopped down into a horse-drawn buggy to ease our return.

The week here has been filled with a total laid-back atmosphere, swimming, tanning, hammock naps, roda de capoeira (open capoeira performances), fun artisanal shopping—some stores have floors of fine-combed sand, and exciting outdoor nightlife with live music and dancing.

We both miss home but feel that leaving Jeri this Sunday is not going to be easy to do.

Brennan Karle is a Las Vegas teacher who covers prep sports for the Review-Journal. He’s in Brazil for the World Cup and will be sharing electronic postcards on his experiences. You can see photos of his trip on Instagram at brennankarle.