In the sweltering heat lies
, yet another Brazilian city. For some peculiar reason I keep forgetting how large this country is. And we still have a few ports to go before we leave Brazilian waters. Maceio
We drift by cranes and barracks into the mouth of the city. The horizon melts and heaven stitches to the sea without a seem. Out in the distance ships are afloat, suspended on nothing, like the earth itself. Bright beaches highlight the skyline. A small tug slowly approaches. It’s too warm to do anything fast, it seems to say as it gentle nudges our hull and begins to push us onto our berth.
|Drifting into Maceio on a hot day|
|Palm trees on the coast of Maceio, Brazil|
|Pier head of Maceio, Brazil|
|Tug boat in the port of Maceio, Brazil|
|Boats suspended on nothing|