Last Saturday, the whole Barineau-Mauricio clan (all three of us) seized the day early (like 10ish) and headed to the beach. It was the kind of day that gets recorded and replayed in every tourist advertisement for the next decade. The temperature was perfect, warm enough to sit comfortably in a bathing suit but not oppressively hot. There was a steady breeze that my husband and daughter exploited for kite flying. It was a perfect beach day.
There were two other families on the beach.
I’m not exaggerating. This is not hyperbole. When we arrived there were two families camped out close to the boardwalk. The next closest people we could see were colorful ants. We looked around in dismay for any food vendor. We’d been banking on supplementing my daughter’s meager breakfast with an ear of corn, but the beach was empty.
Now, before people start shipping furniture and arranging to have their pensions deposited in Brazil, empty beaches are not typical in Brazil, especially not around the cities. Typically, they’re packed so densely you can’t stretch your legs out without kicking the back of someone’s chair. (True story. It was a summer day at Iriri in Espirito Santo. Worst beach day ever!) In Rio de Janeiro, you can’t find a beach with less than a few thousand people on it. Drive past Ipanema on a Tuesday, and you’ll wonder who’s running the city.
That’s not the case here in Vitoria. The empty beaches were one of the biggest shocks moving from Rio to Vitoria. I kept trying to find some explanation. Are Vitoria’s beaches more polluted than Rio’s? Are they more violent? Is there a vicious rip current? A Kraken? Where the hell is everybody?!
After living in Vitoria for almost six years, I’ve figured it out. Capixabas are simply the pickiest beach goers in the world.
Capixaba is the Brazilian term for a person born in Vitoria, the state capital of Espirito Santo. The best English equivalent would be North Carolinian. That state has picturesque mountains and beaches and a generally more conservative population that goes regularly to church and the salon.
Capixabas are incredibly picky about their beach trips. Here are 7 reasons why Capixabas won’t go to the beach.
1. The temperature has dropped below 80°F (26.5°C). If there’s one thing Capixabas fear more than visiting Rio de Janeiro, it’s cold weather. And any temperature in which you can comfortably wear long sleeves is cold. In winter when the high is around 75°F (24°C), my kid will be one of three students whose parents are still allowing them in the pool. Those other all kids have parents from Rio Grande do Sul, the state that’s so far south it’s basically Uruguay.
2. It’s Saturday. Sunday is beach day. Obviously.
3. It rained yesterday. Everything will be wet. And the water will be too cold.
4. It might rain today. Everything will get wet. And to pack everything up and walk across the street only to get rained on would be such a pain.
5. Those clouds are kind of dark. It’s probably going to be chilly with all the clouds. The wind is picking up. It might rain. Better just to wait for a day with no clouds. It’s going to be too cold today anyway.
6. We went to the beach yesterday. If we want to go to the beach everyday we’ll go to a hotel or to our family’s beach house in Guarapari. The beaches in Vitoria are mostly decorative. You can’t use them too much, or they’ll break.
7. It’s too empty. There just aren’t enough people to feel safe. This is the one reason I agree with. The rate of violent crime in Espirito Santo is a tragedy. It’s why we’ve never considered buying a house near the beach even though we go every weekend. I’d love to walk along an empty beach early in the morning or a night, but it wouldn’t be safe. On the other hand, I don’t think two hundred people are required to make beach a safe, and the threat of robbery certainly doesn’t stop people in Rio from swarming Copacabana.
Most excuses are weather related. I assume most Capixabas believe English beaches to be fatal, and I’m not going to try dissuade anyone from that thinking. Mostly because Capixabas are friendly and obsessively follow traffic rules compared to people in Rio. Because nobody’s perfect. But mostly because this way my family and I have the beaches to ourselves from June through September.
Have I missed any excuses, Capixaba friends and readers? Am I totally and completely off-base?
I miss the way Capixabas blame every cough and sniffle on the “brusque temperature changes”…from like 25 C to 28 C. Meanwhile Portuguese beaches are overflowing with Brits who think 18 degree water is pretty much like a hot bath…