Back to João Pessoa, the land that one day belonged to Potiguara natives and now is the crossroads of the north-east, the easternmost point of the American continent, green, young, shaken by the rhythms of the frevo and axé.
By now we are all friends and we race to the bloco virgens de tambaú, another street carnival theme of this endless journey in Brazil. The party seems unstoppable and people move to the beaches of Jacumã.
The sky begins to be tinged with unexpected dawn when greeting friends and I feel exhausted when waiting for the bus that takes me back to Salvador de Bahia: to João Pessoa goes a full thought of smiles and even some tears, a saudade…
