Our 4×4 revs up another dune, revealing another handful of freshwater pools tucked into powdery-white sands. Surrounding me is a seemingly endless landscape resembling freshly sieved flour, speckled with lagoons in every conceivable shade of blue. We all leap out of the open-sided vehicle and charge into the crystalline water like giddy kids as Filipe, our guide, sets out beach chairs and parasols like it’s just another day at any other beach. But it isn’t. This is Brazil’s Parque Nacional dos Lençóis Maranhenses – and it’s paradise.
Despite its Unesco inscriptions, plus a record number of foreign visitors travelling to Brazil in 2025, the north-eastern state of Maranhão remains surprisingly unsung internationally.
But that’s set to change this month, when Tap Air Portugal launches the first international flight to São Luís, Maranhão’s capital. The city, roughly four hours west of the park by road, will soon be reachable from the UK via Lisbon.
Filipe steers us deeper into the park before abruptly braking on a descent. “We’ll need to cross on foot.” Two pools have merged, cutting off the track. It’s a common occurrence following the January-to-May rainy season, which replenishes the 155,000-hectare park’s estimated 30,000 pools. We wade through the cool current and scramble up the other side.
There another 4×4 is waiting to deliver us to Rancho Encanto restaurant, the furthest point of our Circuito Rancharia tour, for a spread of sarnambi (a regional clam dish), rice and beans.
On the return, the landscape is even more striking. The Atlantic’s salt-tinged, afternoon breeze has smoothed the sand like crisp linen – lençóis translates to bedsheets – crafting a fresh scene.
Filipe brakes once more. This time to help a rare freshwater capininga turtle hobbling between pools. Back in the equally sand-dusted town of Santo Amaro, I marvel at a canopy of brilliant stars from my hammock.
Early the next morning, we drive 90 minutes to the national park’s main gateway town, Barreirinhas. I’m keen to meet the communities who call this area home. Clambering on to a speedboat at Porto Preguiças, we beeline to small village of Marcelino. Here, at a palm-weaving co-op, leader Sonia Cabral shows me how to thin the palm’s fibres before dyeing them with natural pigments. The finished bags colour the small shop like a rainbow.
At Casa de Farinha in Taupio, we feast on peixada maranhense, a coconut-simmered croaker fish, before touring the community-run mill. Under a corrugated roof, José Maria Diniz Araújo grins as he demonstrates the traditional tools and methods for turning cassava root into local flour. “This Indigenous knowledge needs to be preserved for future generations,” he says.
The following morning, we’re whisked downstream. Mangroves, coconut palms, yachts and flat-bottomed traditional boats blur on the banks, and 90 minutes later we curve towards the coast. To the right, the sun silhouettes volleyball players atop a towering golden dune in Vassouras, a tiny fishing village. We dock opposite in Mandacaru, stretch our legs as we climb the panoramic lighthouse, and refresh with a caipirinha.
Once back aboard, we soon reach Atins Beach and wade through the ripples, luggage held high. A low-fuss fishing village turned kite-surfing hotspot, the coastal town marks the eastern most point of Lençóis Maranhenses. Endless sands are carried here on trade winds from the Delta do Parnaíba in nearby Tutóia.
These grains set an unhurried tempo in the village like an infinite hourglass. An afternoon of swimming and reading on my chalet’s palm-shaded deck feels obligatory.
A four-wheeler bounces us back into the park for a sunset picnic. Delicate pink tones paint the dune’s crests, the candyfloss clouds reflecting in the mirror-like lagoons. As dusk and shifting sands swallow the day’s footsteps, a chorus of cicadas breaks the trance.
Sated by nature, I dive into city life in São Luís. First colonised by the French but famed for the historic centre’s subsequent Portuguese architecture and azulejos (ceramic tiles), the city sprawls across a large island. Five of its neighbourhoods comprise Latin America’s largest urban quilombo (a settlement established by escaped enslaved Africans and Indigenous people), shaping the city’s cuisine, culture, and celebrations.
I’m instantly drawn to the Centro Cultural’s Indigenous art collection before learning how reggae (São Luís is nicknamed the “Brazilian Jamaica”) became the state’s de facto soundtrack.
Across downtown, fluttering flags announce São João, one of Brazil’s biggest festivals. For around 70 days from late May, in giant neighbourhood parties thousands of groups perform Tambor de Crioula, a drum-driven Afro-Brazilian dance, and Bumba Meu Boi, which re-enacts the legendary resurrection of a farmer’s beloved de-tongued ox. I’m lucky enough to be in town for the ear-popping opening ceremony.
Caipirinha in hand, I party until the wee hours while over a hundred performers in sequined costumes dance and pound drums around an ox-headed hoofer.
The atmosphere is electric; the spectacle hypnotising. Rio might have carnival and Copacabana, but Maranhão’s Bumba and “bedsheets” have won me over. I’m already planning my return.
How to get there
Tap Air Portugal flies from Gatwick, Heathrow and Manchester, connecting to São Luís via Lisbon twice weekly from late October 2026. Fares start at £1,175 return including a free stopover of up to 10 days in Lisbon or Porto.
Where to stay
Vila Capininga in Santo Amaro has B&B doubles from £89, Atins Charme Chalés from £148 and Blue Tree Premium São Luís from £85.
More Information
The writer was a guest of Maranhão Tourism.
Mundo Gekos organises tours of Lençóis Maranhenses.