porto alegre’s 2 am fiasco: where wrong turns grow legs

i landed here last night with a suitcase that refused to close and a map that looked like a toddler’s scribble. the first thing i did was check the weather-it’s 27.3 right now, which is basically a nap in a sauna if you’re into that kind of thing. didn’t sleep much. too many thoughts buzzing like mosquitos at 2 am.

the city itself? chaotic in the good way. i wandered into a market where someone was selling dried cactus as ‘luxury snack’ and another guy was arguing with a parrot. i didn’t ask questions. just bought a bag of cactus and stared at the parrot. it judged me. probably rightly so.

okay, so neighbors. if you get bored, caxias do sul is just a short drive away if you’re up for a vacation. not a slam of ‘you should go there,’ more like ‘you should leave this disaster zone.’ which is fair. i heard that from someone at a bar who later told me their ex lived here. divorced in 2015. yet still talks about it like it’s a rom-com. weird.

reviews? never trust them. i overheard that the local ‘must-eat’ dish is just overcooked beef with a side of regret. another person warned me the beach is basically a concrete parking lot now. both people looked like they’d been accidentally transported to a different century. but hear me out-some of this might be half-true. i heard that same beef story from three different people. coincidence? probably not.

so here’s what i did. i wandered. got lost. found a street artist painting a giant bird on a wall. asked them what it meant. they said something about freedom and then drew me a stick figure eating soap. ironic. i took a photo of the bird. it looked like a bad dream. or maybe a local’s attempt at art. probably both.

here’s a pro-tip in bold: *don’t miss the geladeira congelada at mercado central. it’s a ice cream truck that’s older than my grandma. run to it. you’ll thank me later. also, don’t drink the tap water. i almost did. almost. okay, now that’s out of the way.

the weather kept flirting. 27.3 feels like a human-level negotiation. too hot to stay indoors, too sticky to move fast. i ended up at a small café where i spilled coffee on myself and then asked for a hot cocoa. they gave me a flan. it was good. not the typo, the flan. top quality*.

here are some links you might want to check: tripadvisor porto alegre, yelp local eats, and this random local board i found: porto alegre forums. they had a thread about ‘best places to avoid’ which was ironically a list of every good thing in the city. human stuff like that is the best part.

one last photo. a lone tree in a field. no context. just there. you can find it here. or not. i don’t care anymore. my brain is a dumpster fire. but hey, the dumpster fire knows the city better than most.

ps: if you’re coming here, bring tissues. and a sense of humor. oh, and don’t trust anyone who says ‘it’s all downhill from here.’ they’re either lying or they’re a pro.

images:

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