CYCLE TOURING BRAZIL (2) - PART 3 - EN ROUTE TO VENEZUELA

 

BRAZIL (2) - PART FOUR

Manaus, Brazil – Santa Helena, Venezuela

9 January - 24 January 2012

1 162 Kilometres – 15 Days

 

 MAP

PHOTOS

E-BOOK

9 January - Manaus – roadside restaurant - 64 km

I said goodbye to Amanda (who was catching her flight the following day). Then, Ernest and I headed out of Manaus in the direction of Venezuela. Unfortunately, we had a slow start as Ernest’s chain broke four kilometres out of town. Not much later, significant storm clouds gathered, and it soon started bucketing down. Not liking how the lightning hit the overhead wires, I thought it best to take shelter until the worst was over.

The road north ran through a dense forest on a slightly hilly route. Albeit scenic, the weather remained sweltering. When the weather came in the second time, a roadside restaurant with an old chicken shed made an excellent place to set up camp. The owners didn’t mind and even showed us the shower and toilets. Ernest swept the chicken shed, so we could pitch the tents under cover. The adjacent restaurant had a reasonably priced buffet, making it a natural choice for supper.

 

10 January - Roadside restaurant - Presidente Figueiredo - 67 km

Following coffee and back on the bikes, it became clear this was indeed the Amazon basin as macaws, parrots, love birds, and bright blue butterflies kept us company while we were climbing hill upon hill. The road led through dense forests and across countless rivers and ponds that looked undisturbed for centuries.

Around Presidente Figueiredo, a few waterfalls with lovely picnic areas looked too organised for wild camping. So, we settled for a room in Presidente Figueiredo instead.

 

11 January - Presidente Figueiredo – Da Tia Restaurant - 128 km

A short but hilly section ran to Da Tia Restaurant, where Ernest previously overnighted en route to Manaus. The owner (Antonio) was accommodating, and we pitched out tents under a gazebo adjacent to the restaurant. Our early arrival gave Ernest time to service his bicycle and fix what was broken. The place was lush, and a short walk through Antonio’s garden revealed loads to eat, including mangoes, avocados and bananas.

 

12 January - Roadside restaurant – Petrol station - 76 km

There’s nothing better than waking to the sound of birds; add being offered a complimentary breakfast made it the perfect start to the day. Luckily, the weather was overcast, which made the hot and hilly road more bearable. The ride was incredibly scenic with lush, green trees and sunlight filtering through the leaves, and I was happy with my decision to bike to the border instead of taking a bus. I would deal with the visa problem later.

We continued until reaching a petrol station, which Ernest spotted on his way to Manaus. It made a perfect place to spend the night as it had a gazebo, showers and toilets. Later, Ernest cooked pasta in anticipation of a long ride the next day.

 

13 January - Petrol station – Vila Jundia - 133 km

Six kilometres after leaving, the road entered the Waimiri indigenous people reserve. The reserve stretched 120 kilometres, and camping was out of the question as even stopping or taking photos was prohibited. Nevertheless, it remained a stunning ride through virgin forest but sadly with nor villages or roadside restaurants to fill our water bottles.

Towards the end of the reserve, I was delighted to notice a road sign indicating 10 kilometres to Vila Jundia. Following a long, hilly, hot day, we left the park just as the sun started setting. A pousada sporting tiny colourful bungalows caught our attention. It wasn’t merely inexpensive but sported hot water and air-con.

I couldn’t wait to drag my body into the shower while Ernest rode to the supermarket and conjured up a pasta dish.

 

14 January - Vila Jundia – Nova Colina - 98 km

After eating the leftover pasta with fresh rolls from the bakery, we hopped on our mobile homes. Our route and the forest flattened out somewhat, but a headwind and the muddy and potholed road slowed our efforts. Authorities were busy building a new road; some sections were smooth and paved while others were under construction.

Shortly after departing, a sign indicating the equator called for a photo stop. It wasn’t the first time I crossed that line, and I was sure it wouldn’t be the last.

Nova Colina was more extensive than anticipated and revealed a “hotel”, two supermercados and two bakeries. Nevertheless, Ernest recommended pitching the tents behind a church with a shelter outback, but I headed straight to the “hotel”.

 

15 January - Nova Colina – Rorainopolis - 45 km

The section to Rorainopolis was poor. The route was dusty, hilly and into the wind, and I was happy to reach this tiny community. Rorainopolis sported accommodation where we could do laundry and connect to the internet, but the connection was weak, and too frustrating.

 

16 January - Rorainopolis – Nova Paraiso - 36 km

Rorainopolis was barely 36 kilometres from the tiny settlement of Nova Paraiso. Although the settlement didn’t have anything of interest, neither Ernest nor I felt well, and on spotting a small pousada hidden behind a petrol station, we called it a day. Nova Paraiso was hardly a “New Paradise” but it was an excellent place to chill.

 

17 January - Nova Paraiso – Caracarai - 127 km

From our guesthouse to Caracarai was a long, hot 127-kilometre bike ride. Fortunately, the route was relatively easy. There wasn’t anything to look at besides roadworks and a few roadside eateries, and we felt it was best to push on. Once in Caracarai Ernest cycled to the supermarket and returned with ingredients to make a potato salad.

 

18 January - Caracarai – Mucajai - 87 km

The dense forest slowly gave way to cattle ranches, and it seemed cattle replaced the parrots and macaws. Mercifully, the weather was cloudy, which made it easy pedalling. Mucajai was a tiny settlement that, surprisingly, had accommodation and offered an internet connection. I spent most of the evening uploading photos and playing on the internet.

 

19-21 January - Mucajai – Boa Vista - 63 km

I was looking forward to Boa Vista and having a day of leisure. Unfortunately, since the forest had disappeared, it became windier, and we battled into a headwind for most of the day. As was the norm, accommodation could be found around the bus station. Boa Vista was a strange town in that the centre was quiet. The majority of business was around the bus station and outlying areas.

I thought I could sort out my expired visa in Boa Vista but I couldn’t find the appropriate office. I gave up and did laundry instead.

 

22 January - Boa Vista – Rosa de Saron - 106 km

Cloudy weather, a slight drizzle, and a tailwind made it easy riding. In the late afternoon, an under-cover spot beside a restaurant provided a place to pitch the tents. Unfortunately, it was a busy, noisy area where busses and taxis stopped for snacks and a toilet break.

 

23 January - Rosa de Saron – Indiu Village- 92 km

Some days bring more difficult pedalling than others and this was one of them. It was scorching and mountainous, and we climbed hill after hill in stifling heat. I thought I would pass out as I started seeing black and yellow spots. The road was exposed with nowhere to hide.

Eventually, we reached a small indigenous community that, fortunately, had a good enough covered area to set up camp.

 

24 January - Indiu Village, Brazil – Santa Elena, Venezuela - 40 km

By early morning, the weather was already boiling. As more hills were waiting, I left while Ernest was still busy getting ready.

A slow climb of nearly 1,000 metres in sweltering heat led up the Gran Sabana plateau, Pacaraima (the border), and Santa Helena in Venezuela. On arriving in Pacaraima, I bought more Brazilian coffee, which became a favourite during our Brazilian travels.

Concerned about my Brazilian visa, which had expired 16 days previously, I wasn’t sure what the procedure would be. Thank goodness, the fine of 132 reals was only payable on re-entry into Brazil. That was great news, as the more cash I could take into Venezuela, the better. At that time, changing money on the street was twice as good as drawing from the ATM.

Once immigration was cleared, a short cycle led into the touristy border town of Santa Helena. The town sported ample accommodation as it was the starting point for people wanting to climb Mount Roraima. I would’ve loved to have done that, but Ernest wasn’t one for such ventures.

CYCLE TOURING BRAZIL (2) - PART THREE - THE AMAZON RIVER - AMANDA

 

BRAZIL - PART THREE 

The Amazon River - Belem to Manaus by boat
28 December 2011 - 8 January 2012

MAP

PHOTOS

E-BOOK

 

26-27 December – Belem

The Amazon has two seasons: rainy and dry. This was the rainy season and we could expect daily rain. Belem also marked the end of Amanda’s cycle trip. From Belem, the plan was to take a boat along the Amazon River to Manaus, from where she planned on returning to South Africa. Belem turned out not as wild-west as expected. The town was relatively modern, revealing lovely parks and a population of 1.5 million. From Belem, the view of the Amazon River was unimpressive: simply a vast muddy river.

I headed straight to the busy port and market to see if they sold anything of interest. The market had more than enough herbs to cure any ailment.

We relocated to the hostel after a two-day stay in our upmarket hotel. The hostel was an old rubber baron mansion: a stunning place offering lovely wooden floors, four-metre-high ceilings and crystal chandeliers.

I was excited as this was the day we bought our boat tickets to Manaus on the Amazon River. Tickets came in a wide price range, depending on the vessel. Taking into account Amanda’s fear of water, we chose a large and stable boat. Researching our boat online, Amanda thought it best to find something more substantial. By morning we thus headed to the boat office and upgraded our tickets to a larger vessel.

 

 

THE AMAZON RIVER

BELEM – MANAUS - BY BOAT

 

28 December - Belem - Manaus - By boat - Day 1

On 28 December, we headed to the port where the Rondondin, our home for the next six days, lay waiting. I boarded nervously, not knowing how my sister would handle the trip. She did, however, appear entirely at ease on the larger boat, which felt more stable. We booked a cabin instead of hammocks, as Amanda claimed she couldn’t get in and out of a hammock, let alone sleep in one for five nights. Sleeping in a hammock sounded romantic but I agreed that five nights might be a tad too much.

Once settled, the canteen provided cold beer and food. At the same time, our boat sailed into the sunset, leaving Belem in the distance. Our first evening on the mighty Amazon came with a stunning sunset. The cabin turned out a noisy affair and it felt like we were right next to the engine room. Most of our time was thus spent on the deck.

 

Day 2

On waking, our boat was manoeuvring up a narrow channel thick with lush vegetation on both sides. Here villagers rowed to the boat to collect what people threw overboard, it seemed passengers brought bags of clothing for this purpose. Each item was tightly wrapped in a plastic bag and then dropped overboard for villagers to collect.

All day people continued rowing towards the boat as the ship sailed close to the riverbank. If they were fast enough, they could latch their canoes onto the boat, get on and sell their wares (mostly cooked shrimp). Everyone on board supported them, and the shrimp were shared for all to enjoy. At one stage, our boat slowed, a canoe latched on and offloaded homemade juice. The Brazilians are such an accommodating bunch.

It wasn’t long before thick clouds gathered and rain bucketed down. The storm ended equally quickly, revealing a spectacular sunset over the Amazon jungle. At 20h00 our boat anchored at Gurupa, where more passengers waited. The quayside resembled the boarding of the Ark, and we couldn’t believe that people had that many possessions in the middle of the jungle.

Capturing the forest’s density and the Amazon’s vastness on camera was quite impossible. I tried, but to no avail; well done to those who’ve managed. It’s an extraordinary area, almost impossible to describe.

 

Day 3

Our third day was slightly different as our boat left the narrow channels and headed to the open water. Still, the riverbanks stayed densely wooded but now and again opened onto flat grassy land.

Again, our vessel stopped at small settlements to offload goods, predominantly rice and beans. Furthermore, the quaysides were hives of activity – I guessed these drop-offs were most likely the week’s highlight. Again, vendors climbed onboard selling snacks and fruit, and nearly all supported them and shared what was purchased.

The Amazon is a big watery world, and (like in Borneo) it appeared that kids could row a boat before they could walk. Fellow passengers were exceedingly kind, sharing their snacks, making the ship feel like a big family. Kids ran about, and everyone kept an eye on them. The bar fridge in our cabin soon overflowed with juice, milk, water, and whatever else people wanted to stay cold.

It was a pleasant surprise to notice that not once did anyone throw anything overboard but dutifully placed their garbage in the bins provided. By evening, the sunset was like thunder over the Amazon, birds flew home, and people on board settled into their hammocks.

The Amazon is a vast area and the numbers mind-boggling. The river is enormous, and the forest is thick and dense. Caboclo communities (mixed indigenous and European) populate the riverbanks without any sign of indigenous tribes.

 

31 December 2011 - Day 4

At around 5 in the morning, we woke to a huge commotion. Passengers were getting ready to disembark at Santarem. Our early rise resulted in our first sighting of a sunrise over the Amazon. Santarem was quite a large town, for the Amazon, and much was loaded and offloaded. The Rondondin only departed Santarem at midday. We didn’t venture into town as Amanda, again, didn’t feel well. Santarem was situated at the confluence of the brown Amazon River and the dark Rio Tapajos. The incredible thing is that the two rivers flowed side by side for quite a distance without mixing.

The remainder of the day slipped by as our boat putt-putted upriver past various scenery—sometimes flat, grassy islands and at times thick jungle. Tiny wooden houses popped out of the forest to remind us that people indeed lived in this remote part of the world. The river was massive and hid its treasures well.

With it being the last day of 2011, we drank a few beers in the company of our friendly fellow passengers but retired before midnight. We woke again a few hours later as our boat pulled into another small harbour to offload cargo. Anchoring and casting off brought great excitement as little else happened on board.

 

1 January 2012 – Day 5

The first day of 2012 dawned with thick, dark clouds in the distance. As it was still pretty dark at 7h00, I was unsure if this was due to the cloud cover or if we had moved west. Breakfast, like every morning, consisted of fruit, coffee, juice, bread, ham and cheese – a typical Brazilian breakfast.

I felt slightly disappointed, not because I hadn’t seen any spear-toting tribes or man-eating piranhas, but because I had failed to get any decent photos. Instead, they were all hazy or blurry. I tried almost everything, but to no avail, they stayed blurry and hazy. My second disappointment was our expensive bottle of ‘champagne’ - specially bought for New Year’s Day, turned out nothing more than slightly fizzy apple juice. Hahaha!

As our boat headed deeper into the Amazon, the weather became more humid, overcast, and windless. Tiny birds settled on the deck railing without as much as a feather moving in the breeze.

I was looking forward to sunset as not once did the Amazon produce the same display. That evening, the sun didn’t set with a bang as on other evenings, but came with a soft and subtle array of pinkish colours.

 

Day 6

Again, we emerged to overcast conditions, and I went to breakfast which Amanda skipped, as she didn’t feel like (by then) stale bread and soggy watermelon.

By then, we had settled nicely into the rhythm of eating, drinking, sleeping and lazing about while gazing over the river and forest. Five days was a long time to do nothing, and I was ready to get off the boat. We knew it would be our final day, but no one could tell when we would arrive in Manaus. The staff’s best estimate was something between three and seven p.m.

Closer to Manaus, more settlements appeared along the riverbank, making the scenery a little more interesting.

And so came to an end our life on the Rondondin, and I thought I would’ve nothing to say other than, “We were on a boat for five days”. We docked in Manaus at around 5 p.m. in pouring rain, just the thing one would expect in one of the last wildernesses in the world. We walked our bikes to a hotel and settled in for the next few days as this marked the end of Amanda’s holiday.

 

3 January – Manaus

I became violently ill during the night - no need to go into detail. The boat’s food was notorious for giving passengers the runs, and I guess I tried my luck too many times. Finally, I walked to the laundry to hand in our clothes (risky business in my condition) and returned without incident.

The world was smaller than I thought as a certain Mr Markwood arrived at our hotel looking a bit worse for wear. Life without money was clearly not highly recommended. Still, we squeezed him into our room.

 

4 January – Manaus

I felt slightly better in the morning but could still not eat breakfast. Ernest had no such problem and consumed practically the entire buffet.

Manaus was strange because it was a big city in the middle of the jungle, sporting several interesting sights. Still, I didn’t expect to find an opera theatre in the middle of the jungle, but there it was. Manaus’s famous Teatro Amazonas was completed in 1896 and constructed by Lisbon engineers, symbolising the rubber era’s opulence. Built in a neoclassical style, virtually all materials were imported from Europe i.e., Italian marble, glass, and Scottish cast iron. In addition, the road outside the theatre was rubberised to reduce the noise of late-arriving carriages. I was unsure whether I was impressed or disgusted by this blatant display of European luxury.

At Manaus, the black water of the Rio Negro and the white water of the Rio Solimoes met but didn’t mix and flowed side by side for quite a few kilometres. The reason (from what I understood) was due to a difference in temperature, velocity and the fact that the Solimoes carried nearly eight times the sediment per litre as the Negro.

 

5-8 January – Manaus

Amanda was also sick, and the two of us barely had the energy to do anything but sleep. I didn’t expect the stomach bug to last quite as long. In the meantime, Ernest raided Amanda’s bicycle of all moving parts to fix his neglected bike and boxed what remained for her flight to South Africa.

In the meantime, Amanda and I conjured enough energy for an enjoyable meandering amble around the nearby park. Then, finally, the time came for my sister to fly home and for me to move along.

My visa had expired three days previously, and there remained 1,000 kilometres to the border. There wasn’t much else I could do but take my chances with the Brazilian authorities hoping they would treat me kindly.