13-05-2025
This Chic Hotel In Itacaré Puts A Nordic Accent On Brazilian Style
The main pool at Barracuda
Friluftsliv is one of those wonderfully Scandinavian words for the art of living. It denotes having a simple life in nature without destroying or disturbing anything. It's not the sort of word you'd expect to find on T-shirts in the boutique of a small beach hotel in Brazil. But then, Barracuda is not the sort of hotel you'd expect to find on a small beach in Brazil.
They're hanging beside more swag that says Confia para está na Bahia ('trust, because you're in Bahia'), a more expected—and common—expression in the surfer-chic beach town of Itacaré. And it's the combination of those two ideas that makes Barracuda such a singular place—not only in Itacaré but in the world.
Itacaré is one of those effortlessly cool beach towns that was first 'discovered' by surfers. Until 1998, when a road was built to connect it with Ilhéus (the main city in southern Bahia and home to the closest airport), Itacaré was largely cut off from the world, a place where most people caught fish or cultivated cacao but were hospitable to their foreign visitors.
The rooftop of Barracuda hotel
With that connection in place, more people came, both for the waves and for the lively Afro-Brazilian culture, natural beauty (rivers and waterfalls, not only oceans and beaches). Eventually, the town took on a life of its own, attracting like-minded people who wanted to encounter each other as well as the destination itself. (It's tempting to compare it to Tulum 20 years ago.)
Juliana Ghiotto, a designer from São Paulo, was part of that early wave of visitors. In 2004, she meant to come for one week to 'slow down,' but fell in love with the place—and with a local surfer, Daniel Lima—and decided to stay. 'People thought I was crazy,' she recalls, but she knew she was onto something. She took a job at a local guesthouse, got involved with the local community and welcomed international visitors.
'Bahian and Swedish people both like a design that goes down to the essentials. It's like different languages to say the same thing. But our goal is to create a 'Barracuda language' that's a fusion of both cultures.'
Now Ghiotto and Lima are the creative and hospitable soul of Barracuda. They're often on hand at the main Barracuda hotel, just outside the bustle of Itacaré, or at that hotel's lively little sister, Barracuda Boutique, on the main street in front of the fishermen's bay. Both properties are love letters to their adopted and native home.
But also in the early days, when Ghiotto was working at the other guesthouse, she met a Swedish visitor, who happened to be one of the founders of a well-known Scandinavian hotel group. Since she was 'a Paulista full of energy' in a sleepy coastal town, she became a sort of fixer for the Swede and his artist and entrepreneur friends, organizing their stays in Itacaré and travels around Brazil.
A room in the Barracuda hotel
And when they decided to develop their own project—the one that would become Barracuda—they invited Ghiotto and Lima to do it with them. The Brazilian couple built bridges with the local government and community that allowed them to succeed where other developers failed. Now other would-be hoteliers come to Barracuda to see how it's done.
But the partnership wasn't merely expeditious. The managers, owners, investors and supporters found that they had much in common: aesthetically, philosophically and creatively.
Bahian and Swedish people both like a design that goes down to the essentials, a 'less is more' idea, says Ghiotto. 'It's like different languages to say the same thing. But our goal is to create a 'Barracuda language' that's a fusion of both cultures.
'Both like simplicity,' she continues. There's Swedish reserve and Bahian exuberance, but 'Barracuda is a perfect combination. It's warm but minimalistic. It's not so materialistic. There's space for contemplation or connection.'
The restaurant
There's also a purity and integrity of materials, even though Barracuda is full of Brazilian hardwoods instead of pale Scandi beech. 'It's all solid. There's nothing fake,' says Ghiotto. 'There's nothing that's meant to be something else. It's all very real.'
That's true in the 11 rooms of Barracuda Boutique, the 17 suites of the more luxurious Barracuda hotel and the small but growing number of ultra-luxe villas. They worked with Brazilian architects and interior designers, and all the furniture is from local carpenters.
It's also true in the style of genuine hospitality from the largely local staff—many of whom have worked here 10 years or longer—and the complete lack of fuss around fancy things and fancy people. They never talk about it, says Ghiotto, but some members of the Swedish royal family have posted on social media about their Barracuda stays. Other high-profile people check in from time to time, but they get to be low-profile here.
The living room of a villa
Originally, Barracuda was meant to be their private low-profile playground, a collection of villas spread around a 64-acre property. They emphasize that they've developed less than 10% of the land when 20% is allowed (and far more is often used in practice). Even when an ambitious planned expansion is completed, they'll still be using far less land than they could get away with. As a result, there's more biodiversity within the bounds of the property than in the rest of the region. (And this is just a sliver of Ghiotto's deep commitment to making things better in the community around her.)
The hotel came about organically, when they decided they wanted to offer a gathering place, a restaurant, concierge-type services, a big shared swimming pool and a rainforest deck for yoga and fitness classes. (And Barracuda Boutique was a surprise of its own: Since the environmental permits for the main project took seven years to come through, they built it in the interim, so they wouldn't lose the opportunity to invest in 'the right kind of tourism.')
Notably absent, though, is a spa. Having a dedicated area for wellness didn't make sense to Ghiotto, who says wellness is baked into everything they do. The rooms are plenty big for therapists to come in with portable massage tables. Sometimes they set them up on the large terraces, allowing for a soundtrack of crashing waves and birdsong.
A villa
At the main Barracuda hotel, the 17 suites integrate natural light and sea breezes. They're clad in gorgeous native wood, decorated with natural fibers such as dende palm straw, and spiced up with vivid green cushions on the terrace chairs. But the star of the show is the ocean right in front of each one. The views from the rooftop terrace are even better.
Some of the rooms share the main building with the pool terrace and the restaurant, which goes heavy on the fresh catch that's brought in daily by native fishermen, and refined takes on local dishes. There are tapioca crepes for breakfast, various ceviches, and a DIY acarajé, the local snack of white bean fritters (not unlike falafel) that are sliced open and stuffed with dried shrimp, a paste of ground cashews with palm oil, and the tomato-cucumber-onion salad that Brazilians call vinaigrette. Once a week, there's a big barbecue party, where they grill enormous lobsters on the terrace.
Along with the hotel, the Barracuda villas are bigger, more private sanctums, designed by architect Eduardo Leite to accommodate anywhere from 8 to 16 people. They're the investors' vacation homes as well, so each has its own personality and a sense of being lived-in and real (and a style that caught the eye of ArchDaily). The look was overseen by interior designer Janice Miguel, who mixed pieces by local carpenters with objects from indigenous tribes and furnishings from renowned designers like Sergio Rodrigues, Carlos Motta and Jader Almeida.
Still, she says, her guiding principle was and is a purity and simplicity of forms that would maximize the views of the forest and the sea. Her home base in São Paulo is half a world away from the Nordic proponents of friluftsliv, but it's clear that she—like everyone involved with Barracuda—has mastered that art of living simply within nature.
