Thursday January 30th, 2025 Fortaleza, Brazil
Updated: Feb 3
We’ve had three sea days since Barbados with calm seas, overcast clouds but warm and humid weather. We crossed the equator yesterday at around 4:30PM and the ship held the usual ceremony for those making the crossing for the first time. The biggest weather issue has been the headwind, 30 knots at times, and despite the best efforts of the new captain, who got on in Barbados, the ship has been unable to meet the prescribed speed to arrive in Fortaleza at the planned time. So, instead of arriving in Fortaleza early this morning, the ship docked at around 12:30PM.
All shore excursions were canceled and, since the ship could not stay longer than the originally planned 5PM, time ashore was very compressed – a lot of passengers didn’t even bother to get off. Many who tried to make it into the town gave up at the cruise terminal; the procedure for getting from the ship to the town involved a rather silly bus ride 100 yards along the dock to the terminal and then a 40 minute free shuttle bus ride into town. By the time we got in the queue for the shuttle bus to town there were no busses available, this meant they were all on their way out and would not return for at least an hour. The queue quickly became a long string of irate passengers winding its way through the non-air conditioned terminal like a snake slithering through a hot desert, each twist and turn amplifying the frustration of those trapped in its grip.
I happened to spot an open top bus parked near the terminal with a few people boarding, just then the Cunard port expert happened to walk by and she informed me the bus was running a tour into town and back for $16 each; given the time it was going to take for the free shuttles to return she said the tour bus was probably our best bet – we hurried on over. As the bus pulled out of the port, with the wind whistling through the top of the bus where we were seated, and we looked back at all the people waiting for the free shuttle, we were glad to have escaped the grip of the oppressive queue.
The basic layout of Fortaleza was like many other beachfront communities; a string of modern high-rise building lining the waterfront with the older parts of town further inland. Our bus trundled along a busy road immediately behind the large high-rise buildings giving us our first glimpse of the older town; an old lighthouse under repair, a large chemical works, immense grain silos – and as we got closer to the town center it became more residential with a few shops along the road, it was all a bit run down in a kind of quaint reminder of some of the towns we’ve visited in Mexico. I noticed a huge number of data cables strewn from pole to pole along the road like a gigantic mess of black spaghetti – there could be a large opportunity for telecommunications consolidation here.
The Fortaleza Central Market is a large stadium-like concrete and steel structure jam-packed with stalls selling products for locals and tourists. Out of the naturally air-conditioned open-topped bus we were met with the intense afternoon heat and humidity. It was quite crowded, and I immediately went into vigilant mode, we had been warned about the possibility of pickpockets and even mugging and so had left all jewelry, watches and other valuables back in the ship. I kept one hand in my pocket holding my cell phone, cruise card and small amount of cash, and kept Sandra in front of me at all times.
Entering the market the temperature increased, as there was no air-conditioning, and cacophony of sound from the swirling mass of people for almost deafening. The interior design of the market was quite interesting, with three balconies running all the way around the exterior wall, connected by a swirling ramp from level to level. Lots of leather goods, sandals and belts, carved wood items, dried fruit, lace, t-shirts and fabric. Interestingly we could find no Brazil nuts, there were stalls selling every kind of nut – but they did not appear to know anything about Brazil nuts. I later found out that most of the Brazil nuts are grown in Bolivia. The sellers were moderately aggressive but not too persistent, we wandered a bit, bought nothing and then sought cooler climes.
Immediately next to the market we found the massive St. Joseph’s Cathedral, an imposing gothic-looking concrete building. It took forty years to complete the building, beginning in 1938 and being inaugurated in 1978. It can accommodate five thousand people, and its towers reach 75 meters high. Unfortunately, like many concrete structures in tropical climates, the cathedral suffers from extensive black mold on the exterior – taking away from the otherwise pleasing design but adding a touch of gothic menace. We’ve always headed for large churches in hot climates to seek refuge from the oppressive conditions and a bit of peace and quiet. Most of the time large stone or concrete buildings tend to create a bit of insulated interior cooling, not so with St. Joseph’s in Fortaleza. It was almost as hot inside the cathedral as it was inside the market, despite all of the large doors being wide open – there were numerous large fans dotted around the place, but none were turned on! The interior of the cathedral was striking for its white-washed walls and an almost total lack of adornments, paintings, statues etc. In a way it reminded me of many of the large mosques we’ve visited around the world where interior trappings are highly discouraged. However the white walls and lack of other artwork only served to enhance the brilliant stained glass windows – as good as any we’ve seen before. The huge, circular, window above the main entrance reminded me a lot of a similar, but much older, version in the cathedral of Durham in England, near my hometown.
Never believe what you overhear on a bus; Sandra had heard another passenger describing a really nice hotel, in a mall right across from the cathedral, with air-conditioning and good coffee. In our continuing search for a cool rest, we spotted a mall as we exited the cathedral with a sign advertising a hotel – what luck! Crossing the street in Brazil appears to be a bit of a gamble, the “green man” obviously doesn’t have the same definition here as it does in the UK or USA. The mall was very small with a series of “higher-end” shops lining a narrow walkway, the shops were more like small, air-conditioned booths – this was not a tourist mall. It took about two minutes to walk around the entire mall, twice, and we couldn’t find the hotel – there was a sign, but it didn’t lead anywhere. Eventually a kind lady took pity on us and led us to a very old and tiny elevator; if she had not opened the doors, stepped and selected the floor for us, we probably wouldn’t have gone in it.
The hotel turned out to be very strange indeed, and nothing like the overheard description. As we exited the elevator, following a very scary and jerky ride, we were greeted with a very small open area comprising a desk, a fridge, a small kitchen area and a couple of tables with outdoor-style chairs. A young man behind the desk was eventually persuaded to remove both of his earphones but did not speak a word of English, and despite my best hand waving and verbal descriptions, could not confirm the location of the hotel. In desperation I finally looked up at the sign behind the desk and noted it said “Hotel” – it dawned on us that we had actually arrived at our intended destination. Felling a bit foolish, and not wishing to be rude, I paid for two bottles of water from the fridge, and we sat down to enjoy the ambiance – still no air-conditioning. A couple of maids were working to clean the rooms which lined the small corridor that led from the “reception” area. The fluorescent lighting flickered on and off and I could hear the not-too-distant buzzing of a couple of hopeful flies. For some reason the song “Hotel California” began playing in my head and I began to sweat just a little more than I thought was humanly possible. Sandra leaned over and further enhanced the mood by whispering her belief that we had wandered into a “pay by the hour” establishment. We quickly finished our excellent bottled water and left via the stairs, not wishing to push our luck with a second shot in the elevator.
Returning to the ship on our trusty trolley bus we stopped for half an hour at the beach. I’m assuming this is the end of summer in Brazil as the beaches were deserted and most of the kiosks were closed. After a quick walk along the beautiful beach, I found an open gelato shop and we enjoyed an excellent cool dessert on the return journey.
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