It seems to have worked: the Confraria is frequently rated by Sao Paulo style mags as one of the best clubs in the country and by 9pm the queue outside stretched to the end of the block.
Seedy or soulless?
The city of Florianopolis dates back to 1752, and the arrival of Portuguese from the island of Madeira. For centuries it was a famous southern port, fortress and whaling post, but after a recent reclamation of the docks to build a highway, it has lost much of its charm. Today it's a maze of modern glass high-rises and faded cement tower blocks facing the mainland. Indeed, I was relieved to be staying out in Campeche: one could get lost in the city, and apart from a gleaming new Sofitel that is being built on the waterfront, the hotels looked seedy or soulless.
And yet remnants of the city's past still exist. The 1898-built public market, just back from the docks, is permanently packed, its stalls teeming with fresh shrimp, mussels, oysters and grouper the size of tractor wheels. Don't miss Box 32 in the heart of the market, a classy cafe with a dozen tables and bar stools where the post-work crowd come for a lager and Portuguese pastries.
A short drive south is another gem: Armazem Viera, built in 1840, the oldest bar on the island, its wooden floor, creaking balcony and ocean-green walls dating back to the glory days of the port. In keeping with Floripa's new image, though, it has updated its drinks menu and features more than 70 premium cachaca cocktails, as well as a dozen mixed with that old sailor's favorite, absinthe.
But there are only so many nights you can spend on the tiles and I saved my final two days to explore the lesser-known parts of the island.
You need a car to get around and after several days of taking pricey taxis, I contacted Marta Chiesa of Brazil Ecojourneys, the first (and so far only) English-speaking tour company to open on the island. A Brazilian who had spent several years in London, she had an insider's eye for the hidden gems. We headed north first, to the mainland-facing village of Santo Antonio do Lisboa. A mere 10 minutes from Floripa and chichi Lagoa, here was another world. Stone bungalows lined the waterfront, sun-bleached fishing boats bobbed in the bays and women rode donkeys down cobbled streets past 250-year-old churches. It looked exactly like Madeira.
We then drove south, through the least developed part of the island, to the even more beautiful town of Ribeirao da Ilha. Old men played chess and draughts on waterfront benches and seafood restaurants lined the water. The best of them was Ostradamus, a sailor-themed oyster bar opened by former hot dog seller Jaime Jose de Barcelos in what used to be the garage of his house. By some way the best seafood restaurant on the island, it was so good that we stayed well past dinner and in the end forwent a final fling at the Confraria.
At the time I was quite happy about the early night, but now I'm not so sure. When I arrived back in London, my Brazilian friend wanted to know whether I had seen Gisele. Apparently she was all over the Brazilian papers, photographed in Florianopolis with new boyfriend and new World Surfing Champion Kelly Slater. One of the pictures of her is on Praia Mole; another looks as if it might be on one of the vintage couches at the Confraria.
RSS