curitiba: i came for the light, stayed for the pastel, and lost my mind

i've been roaming curitiba for what feels like a month but is actually only four days, and my brain is about as organized as a pile of loose film reels. my mission? find locations for this low-budget indie flick about a chef who quits everything to become a street artist. yeah, i don’t fully get it either, but the director’s visions are weirdly specific: we need a cafe that looks like it’s stuck in 1998, an alley that screams ‘regret’, and a rooftop with a view of the city’s neon veins at night. so far, curitiba’s been giving me everything but in the most chaotic ways. right now the weather’s sitting at a comfy 28.6°c, feels-like 28.2, humidity 40% - basically the air’s as dry as a popcorn kernel, which is a blessing ’cause my gear doesn’t sweat. pressure’s steady at 1014 hpa, whatever that means for the mood, but it feels like the city’s holding its breath for something. i checked the forecast this morning and it’s just… there, hope you like that kind of thing? yeah, i know that’s cliché but whatever.

the first spot i hit was the *Mercado Municipal. i mean, the place is a labyrinth of colors, smells, and textures that could make a DP weep with joy. the light filters through the old glass roof in these golden shafts that would be perfect for that ‘chef’s revelation’ scene. i spent an hour just watching the fruit sellers arrange pineapples like they’re arranging a still life. someone told me that if you get there by 7am you’ll catch the fishmongers shouting their prices like a rap battle. i didn’t believe it, but i went, and it’s true. i almost booked a flight back home just to escape the smell of sardines, but the soundscape was killer.

i also found a tiny pastel stall tucked in the back corner - the kind where the old lady flips the dough with one hand and tells you your fortune with the other. the pastel there is so crisp it sounds like you’re biting into a autumn leaf. according to the TripAdvisor reviews, it’s the #1 thing to try. i’d agree, but be warned: the line starts forming at 10am and by noon it’s a mob scene. i learned the hard way and missed my afternoon scouting slot. that’s the price you pay for perfection. next up: Rua XV de Novembro. this pedestrian street is a treasure trove of faded murals, street musicians playing for coins, and the occasional protest about something or other. the vibe is ‘urban and a little tired but still trying’. there’s this one wall covered in peeling paint and wheatpaste posters that would be the perfect backdrop for a dystopian busking scene. i shot some test footage on my phone and the light was all wrong, but at golden hour? magic. the golden hour here is surreal - the whole street glows orange, like everyone’s lit from within. i could have stayed for hours but a sudden drizzle (the forecast never mentioned this) forced me to duck into a boteco.

that boteco - Boteco do Japao - is a hybrid bar that serves sake and chimarrão (that’s a local tea-like drink that’s bitter and smells like grass). it’s cramped, the walls are covered in polaroids, and the acoustics are weirdly good. i overheard the bartender saying that the basement gets an insane echo, perfect for a thriller’s interrogation scene. that’s something i’ll definitely pitch. key advice: always ask the staff about the weirdest spots - they know things tourists never see. i’ll be back with a sound recorder. someone told me that the city’s old train station, Estação Rodoferroviária, has a basement that’s allegedly haunted by the ghosts of missed trains. i thought it was bullshit, but when i stepped down there, the air was cold and the fluorescent lights flickered like a strobe. i didn’t stick around long, but a local filmmaker friend swears by it for horror. i’ll need a permit though - the security guard looked like he’d bite. one of the best parts about scouting in curitiba is the easy access to neighboring hideaways. if the concrete starts to suffocate you, a short drive east lands you in matinhos, a surf town with sand that’s still cold in the morning. or head north to the highlands where the araucária forests feel like another planet. that’s the kind of variety you can’t get in a lot of places. i’m planning a day trip tomorrow to Morretes - heard there’s a colonial street that looks like it’s frozen in the 1800s. perfect for a period piece? maybe. i’ll take my bike and see what the locals whisper. i’ve also been grinding my teeth over the pressure reading (steady 1014 hpa). my cinematographer friend says high pressure means clearer air, sharper shadows. i’m no scientist, but the light definitely feels crisp, like you could cut it with a knife. it’s making my footage look expensive even though i’m shooting on a mirrorless that’s seen better days. secret tip: check the barometer before you schedule a shoot. if it’s stable, you’ll get that sweet contrast. as for food, i’ve become a regular at Café do Teatro, a tiny spot near the opera house that serves a coffee so strong it’ll wake the dead. the locals swear by their pão de queijo - it’s fluffy, cheesy, and comes out steaming. i’ve linked the menu on Yelp if you want to see the hype. i’m not usually a yelp person, but the reviews are hysterical - one guy said it changed his life. i mean, it’s cheese bread, but okay. now, i have to mention the street art scene. curitiba’s got this underground collective called Família Vagabunda (yeah, that’s the name) that paints massive murals on the sides of abandoned factories. one in particular - a giant octopus wrapping a brick building - had me jaw-dropping. i sent a pic to the director and she replied with a single fire emoji. that’s a yes. if you’re into that, follow their Instagram. they sometimes paint over their own work in a week, so catch it while you can.

i also got a tip from a Curitiba Underground forum post: there’s a hidden courtyard behind the old library where they film secret concerts. i’m not sure if it’s real, but i’m going to scout it tomorrow night. the thought of finding a place where you can’t even see the streetlights is thrilling. that’s the kind of location that makes a film feel intimate, you know? anyway, i’m three days into this sleep-deprived tour and my body feels like it’s been through a blender. i’ve walked so much my shoes are starting to talk back. i’ve seen more brick walls than i care to count. but i’ve also seen moments where the city just… glows. a shaft of light through a broken window, a kid playing a battered violin on a corner, the way the rain makes the cobblestones look like oil slicks. those are the things that stick. if you ever find yourself in curitiba with a camera and a vague idea, take your time. get lost in the backstreets. talk to the old men playing chess in the park. ask about the best pastel (everyone has an opinion). and always, always check the pressure - it might just make your footage look like it was shot by a pro. and maybe bring a jacket for those sudden showers; the forecast is a liar. now i’m going to hunt for that rooftop with the neon veins. i’ve heard there’s one near Praça Tiradentes that’s got a view of the whole city at night, but the owner is a paranoid ex-musician who hates filmmakers. i’ll have to sweet-talk him. if i succeed, i’ll have the perfect closing shot. if not, there’s always the train station basement. wish me luck*.

curitiba: i came for the light, stayed for the pastel, and lost my mind

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