The idea is to leave the beach today and as we pack up under predictions of rain I shall leave the campground posting some photos of a walk I took Tuesday afternoon.
It wasn’t a long walk to the top of the hill behind the harbor but it sure was steep.
This is an aerial view from Google Maps with my goal being the Mirante de Enseada (the bay viewpoint):
Some neighbors from the campground had gone for a walk with beach chairs and umbrellas and I was under the impression there was a beach on the other side of the hill. I was wrong as it happens but we’ll come to that.
First a walk down the road to the harbor masters complex of offices around the head of the harbor.
At the bottom of the cement stairs leading up the hill is an emergency contact sign in case you stroke out climbing the stairs I guess.
Like Morro Bay in California this is the trail of the Moor in Enseada, the bay.
It was hot and sunny and there was no point in wasting time as the afternoon wasn’t getting any younger and my camera wasn’t getting any lighter. 
So plod plod plod it was one cement step at a time while holding the rather warm iron hand rail.
The best part came when I turned the corner at the top of the visible staircase only to discover the last fifty yards to the top were slippery looking damp dirt. 
Fantastic. They couldn’t just finish the job and do it right. I’d left my cane in the camp so there was nothing to be done but scramble my old bones to the top. 
Only to discover I was not alone. 
There were a couple of fresh water pools, surprisingly not created by my sweat. 
The plateau at the top offered a view of the open ocean obviously so I stared at that for a bit.
But the trail down the other side devolved into a vertical mad scramble suitable only for highly motivated youthful anglers who sought prey in the open ocean.
I was none of that so I enjoyed the breeze and the view. 
There was an antenna and I figured there had to be a maintenance road up making for an easier descent. However I could see no easy way to walk to the tower and I had no doubt any road up was probably fenced and locked. 
I knew I had to Clinton those bloody stairs again. That I got through the dirt section without slipping and falling seemed like an achievement to me as I stood at the top of Jacob’s Ladder. 
The stairs down presented a couple of interesting features not noted in the way up. A couple of sections lacked handrails which was nice. 
And my size eleven plates of beef were too large for the steps. That meant going down I felt as though I was about to tip forward…
So I had to split my feet outwards to get my whole shoe on the step. I felt like I was wearing clown shoes.
It went on and on but eventually I got there, to the bottom that is. Back to the warning signs and all that.
I saw a much better sign by the side of the road. I could have done with a barrel of Jack Daniel’s myself at that point.
A short walk back to home where I could remove my socks and ease myself into a book.
And dog watching of course:
Plus we had to say goodbye to Mafra and pay the bill for six nights at $17 each:
For that money we got only one shower and one toilet cubicle per gender. They were modern and spotless but you had to bring your own paper. 
Alongside there is a sink for clothes washing, two sinks for fish washing and one of two dump stations for general use. Each camping spot has its own dump station but suitable for very narrow Brazilian hoses. Also here is an outside cold shower to rinse off after a swim. We really enjoyed this place.
And then we got to watch our neighbors break camp. 
And sleep the sleep of the exhausted.
Our neighbor came by to inquire of our journey, where we are from and how long have we been on the road and which direction are we traveling. Louis is from Mato Grosso (Big Forest) State in central Brazil. He and his wife live full time in their bus and live on the road. When they visit their daughter they park in front of her house but they have no other home than their bus. Just like us!
Then I got to do a little bird watching:
