Sao Luis

If Salvador Dali and Lawrence of Arabia collaborated on designing a water park, you'd get something like Lencois Maranhenses-a surreal oasis of lagoons shimmering improbably amidst endless white dunes. Set just outside the scrappy little town of Barreirinhas in northeast Brazil, these shifting sands and azure pools shape-shift each rainy season, mocking human attempts at precise mapping or Instagram predictability. Aim for a morning departure to dodge the blistering midday sun and crowds bearing selfie sticks, and book your spot at least a week ahead; spontaneity is charming but rarely successful here. Budget around $40 to $60 for the jeep ride alone, and don't forget sunscreen, sunglasses, and a waterproof camera-because nothing screams regret louder than realizing your phone is thirsty. Lencois Maranhenses may not promise Wi-Fi, shade, or sensible footwear choices, but in exchange, it offers the priceless chance to wade barefoot into crystal-clear lagoons nestled in a desert that's not really a desert. Go now, if only so you can forever claim you've taken a swim where nature itself seems gleefully confused.

Wandering the crumbling, color-rich streets of Sao Luis's historic center feels less like sightseeing and more like stumbling into a colonial-era carnival after far too many caipirinhas. This scrappy yet splendid UNESCO World Heritage site in the Centro neighborhood brims with a cheerful chaos, its Portuguese architecture clad in vibrantly patterned azulejos-those ridiculously photogenic ceramic tiles the Portuguese installed centuries ago, partially out of nostalgia, mostly as an ostentatious display of wealth. Plan your exploration in the cooler morning hours, when the humidity hasn't yet cranked up to "steam bath," and budget at least half a day to properly lose yourself in the charming decay. Wear comfy shoes capable of navigating cobbles polished smooth by centuries of foot traffic and bring cash for impromptu snacks-after all, Sao Luis promises street food so tasty it'll ruin your appreciation of fine dining forever. Sure, the facades could use a good scrub and yes, you'll inevitably get a little lost, but wandering these streets feels like reading history scribbled in graffiti, cracking tiles, and music drifting lazily from hundred-year-old doorways. Even if colonial architecture isn't your thing, consider this: how often can you brag about getting spectacularly lost amidst faded Portuguese grandeur, street samba beats, and some of Brazil's most alluring culinary street chaos? Exactly.