The expression ‘life’s a beach’ may well be clichéd and overused in other sorry parts of the world, but in Brazil it’s the most appropriate maxim you could get. Their 7941km of sands are put to full use: an office; meeting point; bar; restaurant; entertainment venue; sports field and children’s playground all rolled into one useful multi-purpose mecca. The inland areas of Brazil are far lesser visited, and most of the population is concentrated on the coastline, but Lencois - 6 hours west of Salvador is one place we ventured to for a refreshing break from the permanently supine position we had adopted on the beach.

Surrounded by rolling hills and table-top mountains with huge plateaus and valleys that made everything appear miniscule by sheer scale, Lencois had a colourful, unhurried centre. You could observe Brazilian semi-rural life here without feeling like a voyeur and it had a strong community feel that made it easy to stick around. Treks to huge mile-long underground caves, freshwater lagoons, natural water slides and waterfalls were just some of our adventures here in the Chapada Diamantina National Park, which was as interesting to visit as it is difficult to pronounce.

Back to the beaches we spent a few days in Praia do Forte, which had an interesting turtle breeding reserve at its centre, but otherwise was slightly too much like a purpose-built resort (I remember First Choice having packages here when I worked there, although I struggle to imagine the throngs of Ellesse-wearing, waddling, sunburnt FC customers in Brazil, demanding their KFC. It would feel like observing some hideous Big Brother-style social experiment!). It was after this stop, heading north out of Bahia, that we experienced our toughest travel in Brazil so far. We had heard the Northeast was more basic and possibly backward, but we had no idea to what extent. We started to feel weary after just one day of being told completely different information by anyone who could understand our Portuguese, which although basic was not incomprehensible to Brazilians in other areas further south. For some reason, in Sergipe and Alagoas, two small states that tourists hardly bother with (now we see why), everything we said was met with an instant glazing over of the eyes and staring into a void beyond the silhouette of us scratching our heads in bemusement.

Buses... well, all buses are challenging in Brazil for backpackers due to the turnstile systems, designed to infuriate those with luggage. These must provide endless entertainment for bus-based Brasilieros who sit and watch what must look like a snail struggling to fit through a tight piece of garden mesh. But here we had to grapple with about three or four of these a day, still not knowing if we were heading in the right direction. For all of Brazil’s middle-class vision and glossy veneer, there still exists the odd obstacle to tap you on the back and says ‘eh gringo, we are still a developing country, you know!’ The fact that most of the bus terminals are outside the city centres by about 10km certainly adds to the experience. There you go, my first criticism of Brazil after heaping so much praise!

We passed through the pretty colonial river town of Penedo; Maceio, the state capital with great emerald seas and white sand beaches but absolutely nowhere to stay and feeling a little too unaccustomed to tourists to be comfortable. We also passed through Maragogi without staying, which had a stunning beach where we witnessed a storm brewing offshore, the brilliant green of the sea clashing with a sinister dark grey on the horizon.
Arriving in Recife was equally challenging and after several confusing bus experiences we eventually tumbled out of the turnstile and promptly spat out by chugging bus in Olinda, to be our Christmas stop. We couldn’t have chosen a better place, as there was a stage with nightly carol performances or music, pretty cobbled streets filled with tinsel that rustled satisfyingly in the breeze and a sweaty Santa feeling overheated in his humble tropical grotto. Wiping away the sweat, we wished each other a Merry Christmas by checking into a pousada with a brilliant room with terrace overlooking Recife’s sprawling skyline, etched into the outline of the coastline. We drank red wine, ate chocolates and had a dinner with our own private dining area (just lucky with the tables, not frivolous!) and the customary caipirinha, followed by a swim in the pool. Our second Christmas away, it was definitely more special and one we will remember. Olinda itself explodes with colour, and the papier-mâché effigies dotted around the city’s bars, pousadas and workshops are like giant characters in a surreal game of hide-and-seek. The old town is set on a beautiful green hill with colourful houses backed by the bottle-green Atlantic. It was a great place.

One of our quickest visits was to Joao Pessoa, where we managed to stay for lunch, cumbersome backpacks at our side, before deciding this north-eastern city was as bland as an out-of-date Ryvita, hastily bidding it farewell. At this point, we started to worry as we were well ahead of schedule. Pipa, however, was a place that won us over with its picturesque beaches backed by sand cliffs, international feel and amazingly good food. Here we spent the New Year countdown high on cliff watching fireworks, drinking champagne with two generous Norwegians and joining a beach party with giant bonfire, caipirinhas and dancing in the sand. Our planned three day stay soon turned into ten!

Our last stop on the north-eastern tip of Brazil, and just 6 hours away from UK, was somewhere we had been before, with Thomson Holidays! Natal is hardly Brazil’s highlight, but we have enjoyed reminiscing and going back to the same restaurants and bars we enjoyed five years ago. It made us realise how lucky we have been, last time cramming six nights into a much-needed holiday far away from UK winter, whilst this time we are into our 450th night away. How’s that for an extended stay?!