Guamare to Natal. 123 miles. Monday, January 31st, 2011

Unfortunately, leaving Guamare the shrimp farms we had seen when entering where closed so we were unable to purchase any. Hopefully as we drive on the coast we will see more. Our plan in Natal was to find a Ford dealership to fix the headlamp and try to get propane. We again stayed on the secondary road to Natal and this brought us right through the center of town. We asked directions at a gas station to the Ford dealership and repair center. At first, we were sent to the car dealership but they quickly gave us easy directions to their truck service facility. Again, they were very helpful and got the lamp changed and gave us some spare bulbs for some of the other fixtures. As I walked Winston, a lady came out of the office. She spoke English and proceeded to tell me that she has 2 beagles. A fellow beagle owner. We both agreed they are great dogs to own even if a little trying at times. They also thought of our propane problem and after a few phone calls came up with a name, Liquigas, which should be able to help us. Unfortunately it is on the north side of town, close to where we entered. That is about 30 miles away and we will not be able to get there today. They tell us a pretty beach is Pipa but again we won’t get there tonight so it is another night to spend at a posto. At least this one had really nice showers!

Fortaleza to Guamare. 260 miles

Our original plan was to visit the beach town of Canoa Quebrada, which we had read good things about. But when we arrived two things stood out immediately. One, it is very popular and touristy and two, the cobblestone streets are very narrow, winding and steep through the small village. There is also no really good place to park the RV close to the beach. It is not our kind of place. We look at the map and decide to try Guamare, another coastal town a little further south. As we drove on a secondary but well paved road, we passed lots of working oil wells and a refinery. There are also many clusters of huge windmills generating electricity. Brazil being self sufficient in the energy department. Approaching Guamare we see ponds cultivated for shrimp and plan to stop on the way out to purchase some. It was getting dark as we came into town and we saw three policemen on motorcycles by the sea wall. We stop to see if they can direct us to a good place for the RV. After much chatting and conferring between themselves, they tell us to park at the end of the Praia (playa) and they will show us the way. As they pulled in front of us, all three turned on their lights and so it was, we were being escorted through the town and down the praia, about 2 miles, behind flashing blue and white lights. As we passed groups of people were turning to watch our parade. It was little embarrassing but highly amusing to think we had our very own police motorcycle brigade guiding us through the streets. They got us settled at the end of the praia right in front of the beach and for the next two days, drove by frequently to check on us. Guamare is definitely not touristy and on Sunday the only people at the beach were local towns’ people and us. Our kind of place! Sunday is our first full day with no driving since the Amazon and we needed a well deserved break. Winston is in heaven. Finally he can go off lead and run and play on the beach to his heart’s content. He plunges into the ocean until it is washing over his back and then comes tearing out to just race up and down the sand, stretching his legs. The only downside was late Sunday our generator starting acting up again. It seems no-one can figure it out and one of our headlights has gone out and needs replacing. Another trip to a Ford service center is in our near future. We barbeque dinner and watch as the stars come out over the Atlantic. Monday we will be on the road again but for now this is quite beautiful.

Belem to Fortaleza. 938 miles

When we were told that the RV would arrive in Belem on Sunday, we did not understand the implications of that. Sunday means no work. No-one working the dock, no-one to complete the exit paperwork, no-one to help us ashore. After arriving in Belem at about 2pm and being pushed against a pier, we were seemingly abandoned. Our crew, the captain, the cook and the guards all left. We chatted with our trucker friends. The consensus was 8am Monday morning would be when we would be unloaded from the barge. Tom jumped over the 3ft. gap from our pier to the dock and went in search of someone, anyone to see if we could get water for the RV. He came back with a guard in tow and conversed with our, by now, well versed hand signals that we needed water. The guard left, we shrugged. Our time on the road has taught us if nothing else, patience. We settled ourselves for another night on the barge, albeit against a dock within spitting distance of freedom. After about an hour or so, the guard came back pushing a cart with a 40 gallon barrel of fresh potable water for us. Tom got the hose and began siphoning the water into the RV, at the same time thanking the man for remembering us and going out of his way to help. After declining an offer to join the truckers at a local bar for drinks, we had an early dinner and watched the stars from the dock. Sure enough, 7:30 the next morning, the dock was a hive of activity. We are first off but wait for two of the truck drivers as they are going to show us the way out of town. Eventually by 10 o’clock, we have our paperwork and leave the port. We follow the trucks out of town to the first gas station and after hugs and handshakes, we separate company. The road is much better than BR174 to Manaus and we make good time, driving about 6 hours and covering 217 miles. Our first night is in a small hamlet, Governador Nunes Freire at a posto and it poured with rain the entire night, leaving us squelching around in the red mud trying to walk Winston. We have already realized that it is a long way to the port of Fortaleza and those amazing Brazilian beaches so Tuesday worked out being our longest driving day to date, 315 miles in 8 hours got us to the town of Caxais. On this stretch of road there are more date palm orchards than we have ever seen. For miles and miles, on both sides of the road. Are dates really that popular? We also have some mechanical problems. The second battery in the RV isn’t charging, the casing it sits on is broken, the steering column feels loose, the generator is acting up – again and Tom’s driver side door won’t close without a lot of slamming and maneuvering. We blame BR174, that road was horrendous. Wednesday is relegated to being a repair day. We are 40 mile from the large town of Teresina and once there, ask directions to the Ford dealership. They immediately find someone who speaks English and we tell him our list of woes. The door isn’t a problem and they have it fixed within an hour and in the meantime I got to use their internet hookup. For the other issues, they suggest another repair shop and the English speaking service manager offers to come with us and translate. Perfect. Except we arrive there at lunchtime. After speaking with the owner, we are told to return at 1:30 and the owner’s son who also speaks English will join us. They can do all the work and in addition they offer me an air conditioned office and the use of their computer and internet. The people we meet and their kindness never ceases to amaze me. Work went on until past closing but by 6 o’clock they were finished. All done and in good working order. They tell us that we can park in their lot overnight as they have security but we have already earmarked the BR posto across the street as they have showers. So, Wednesday night finds us again nestled in amongst huge truck trailers but with the repairs complete and ready for road test. Leaving Teresita we had planned on Thursday being an easy drive day to Park Nacional Sete de Cidades where we could overnight in a hotel parking lot. I even defrosted a large piece of filet mignon for us to barbeque later. When we arrived at the park the guard told us “no dogs”. We argue, “he stays in the home except for walks on a lead”, “we clean up after him”, even, “we have driven all the way from California to see this”, it was all to no avail. The man was unmoving and adamant. We turned away and shrugged. Oh well, might as well keep going to get closer to Fortaleza. Upon leaving we went to a gas station to fill up. Right there in the parking lot was a jewelry store selling opals. We are in the State of Piaui which mines among other things, opals. I looked through the window. They have a gallery in Sao Paulo but this is at source. The stones looked beautiful. Lucky for Tom – the store is closed. 175 miles from Teresita we were in the small town of Tiangua, spending the night at another posto. “Do you still want to cook?” I asked Tom. “Absolutely”, was the response. So there we were cooking filet over our small grill and watching the moon and stars slowly fill the sky. We don’t need a national park to fulfill our needs, just a small lot with a view of the surrounding area and sky. Winston was happy too, steak is on the menu. The last 190 miles to Fortaleza we passed through huge banana plantations and the National Park de Ubajare. Fortaleza is a port city and we had read we may be able to get propane here but we could not find the plant and no-one seemed to know where it was. We are still half full so we hope we can find some in one of the other ports as we drive south. We find another posto to stay at and plan to go to some beaches tomorrow.

The ride of a lifetime down the Amazon

We had been directed to an area off to one side of the dock and as midnight approached we watched trucks drive containers onto the barge and line them up in perfect order. After the first barge was filled, it was moved out of the way to make room for a second one. Finally at around 2:30 am, there was a knock on the door. Time to move. As we approached the barge we could see it was full and we were on the back with plenty of room to get around the RV and open our doors. We park and Tom gets out. As we watch, our barge is moved forward and the first barge is tied to the back of ours with cables, which put us in the middle of the two barges. Right on schedule, we leave Manaus behind as the full moon leaves reflections on the water and we edge into the channel towards the Amazon. The Amazon River. So symbolic with Brazil, it starts in the Peruvian Andes just a short distance from the Pacific Ocean and travels over 4,000 miles before it flows out into the Atlantic close to the equator. It has about 15,000 tributaries; some like the Madeira, Solimoes and the Negro are huge rivers themselves. The Amazon having the heaviest flow of any other river in the world, deposits into the ocean about one-fifth of the world’s fresh water. This water flows with such force that it is still fresh 110 miles out in the ocean. And one 1,000 mile stretch of this amazing waterway will be our home for the four days that it takes to get to Belem. After a brief night’s sleep, we get up to examine our new surroundings. Winston is definitely not sure about this new turn of events and is sniffing around the barge but alarmed when he realizes we are surrounded by water. There are a group of truck drivers who have set up camp just a short distance from us, so we walk over and introduce ourselves. They only speak Portuguese and we don’t but somehow we exchange names and find out via hand signals and maps where they are from and what we are up to. Like everyone, they are amazed and over the next few days offer plenty of information about our route through Brazil and places not to miss. We are moving down the river at about 11 miles an hour and on both sides we see dense jungle. I remember reading about Brazil being a country that fugitives come to, to hide out and I am not surprised. This is a huge country and a person could “disappear” here for a very long time. Late morning, a crew member comes up to us. Apparently lunch and dinner are provided and he tells us, lunch is at 11:30 and dinner at 5. We have also gone through another time change and are now 5 hours ahead of our family in California. After our first lunch of chicken, grilled beef, beans, rice and noodles, we notice the clouds forming. It was to be the first of many deluges in the days ahead. The rain came down in torrents but brought a welcoming breeze that cooled us off. Later after dinner, Tom and I gathered our stuff and made our way back to the tug, which actually pushes the barges through the water from the back, showered and watched the sun set on this amazing first day. The next couple of days passed in much the same way, chatting with the drivers and boat crew, swinging in hammocks, reading, doing small chores around the motor home, playing with Winston who by now knows his way around and is well acquainted with everyone, avoiding the rain during storms and of course eating. We also found out where the left-over food goes. All of our meals have consisted of a combination of at least two of beef, chicken, pork or fish and the ever-present beans, 2 types of rice and noodles and there has been lots of food left. The cook, packages the left-overs into bags with a 2 litre bottle of juice attached (to help it float) and the local inhabitants row over in their canoes and collect it as he throws it into the water. Another somewhat surprising item is that the crew is armed and as darkness falls, at least two roam the boat sporting semi-automatic weapons. It would seem that pirates are not only confined to the Caribbean and Somalia. We are told that occasionally barges have been boarded by banditos and their cargoes hijacked. Late in the evening of the third day, we enter the port of Santarem which is at the convergence of the Amazon and Tapajos rivers. This old colonial fortress is now home to about a half million jungle gold prospectors or “garimpeiros’. The only way in and out of Santarem is by boat or air and so they rely heavily on the barges to bring them the commodities they need. Our stop lasted about 3 hours with some containers being unloaded and others loaded but empty, destination Belem for more supplies. Our last day on the barge was also the nicest, weather-wise and we spent the time taking lots of photos and preparing for our emergence back into civilization. Before dinner, I made a plate of hors d’oevres for us and our fellow truckers and we offered them a beer. Tom and I open a bottle of Champagne and toast our last night on the Amazon. We have T-shirts from the San Jose Fire Dept. for our crew and totally unexpected, the Captain gave us a T-Shirt and hat from the Brazilian Merchant Marines. Both of us agree that this has been a remarkable, memorable experience. These four days on the barge have been extraordinary in that time would seem to standstill. Due to the secular nature of the river, the people who live at the water’s edge and call it home have not changed much in years, the jungle still grows up to the riverbanks and the great Amazon still makes its way to the Atlantic. I feel humbled by the vastness and timelessness of it all, awed in the majestic beauty of the area and thankful that I am one of God’s creatures that managed to experience it.

Manaus and securing a barge down the Amazon.

After arriving in Manaus we had one contact for a barge company that does business on the river, Chibatao Navegacao, no address. But first, Tom saw a propane gas truck and ever on the lookout for propane, he went to chat with the driver. Let me tell you, Portuguese is nothing like Spanish and we are having trouble understanding and being understood. After much pantomiming, the driver inspects our connection valve. He can’t fill us but we can do it at the main plant. He draws us a map and we decide to take care of the propane first. We were going to fill up in Fortaleza but we are down to between a quarter and half a tank, so this will take the pressure off. With the help of the map, the plant proved easy to find and yes, they could fill us. We find that most of the people are really eager to help us out and are in awe of our journey. They also gave us directions to the barge company which was not too far from them. We parked at the dock and went into the office. Unfortunately their policy must have changed in the last couple of years as they will only take vehicles with one person. After some discussion they provided the name of another company, Linave and a truck driver who was present offered to show us where it was. We followed him for miles, through town, through a shanty town, past companies and factories and into the countryside. It was getting dark and I was getting nervous. “Where is this place?” I ask Tom. I can tell he is also perturbed. Eventually we pull into a guarded gate and follow our truck driver down more winding roads, past shipping containers and into another yard, also securely guarded. We all park and he and Tom go over to a guard. Unfortunately the office is closed but this is the place. As it is late, dark and we don’t know where we are exactly, we spend the night at the shipping yard, knowing at least that it is secure. Tuesday morning, Tom goes to the office. Yes, they can take us, tonight at midnight but the fare is 1,916 Rs (about $1,150.00) and they only take reais and cash. We have about 1200 Rs on us so head back to town to find a bank; we need to pay before 3pm. In addition I want to see the Teatro Amazonas Opera house built during the rubber boom of the late 1800’s, when for a brief time Manaus was the richest city in the world. I was not disappointed. The Teatro is magnificent, with Italian marble, iron pillars and its beautiful mosaic dome. 2pm and we are back at the shipping yard. Tom pays for our trip and we are told to be ready at midnight. The barge will sail at 4am. We are so excited and spend the evening walking Winston and watching the city lights of Manaus as we wait for our barge.

The Brazilian border at Pacaraima to Manaus. 606 miles.

The border crossing was uneventful and by far the most efficient we have experienced. It took only 35 minutes to turn in and get stamped, our Venezuelan paperwork and another 45 minutes to enter on the Brazilian side. Everyone was friendly and courteous and no money was needed for any of the permits, although it had cost $168.00 to process Tom’s visa from the Brazilian consulate. After crossing the border, the only road south is BR174. It is unequivocally, the worst maintained road of our trip. Major sections consisting of 100kms or more are in such need of repair that we are forced to drive at 10 to 15 miles an hour. The motor home bumped, jarred and rattled its way through plateaus and jungle on the way and there was little relief in sight. In addition, we are in shock at the gas prices. After paying 10 cents a gallon in Venezuela, we are now making up for that with gas at $6.60 a gallon. Our RV only gets about 8 mile to the gallon so it is almost, for every mile we drive it costs about 75 cents and we have figured that we may drive 4,000 mile in Brazil. Ouch! After 4 hours of driving and covering 126 miles we arrive at the town of Boa Vista just as it was getting dark and after looking at several parking possibilities, we spent the night at the Department of Transportation parking lot under the watchful eye of a guard and numerous drive bys by local police. The next morning after stopping at a supermarket to replenish our supplies, at a bank for reais and at the local fire station (bomberos) to put water into our holding tank, we were on our way. We pass over rivers and streams, Brazil has a lot of water and everything is lush and green and jungle. Six hours and 180 miles later, we arrive at the small town of Rorainopolis. We find a gas station that is next to a park with numerous fenced areas for Winston to run and decide it looks like a good place to overnight. Due to the vastness of the country many of the gas stations in Brazil are termed “posto”, meaning they have facilities – bathrooms with showers, convenience stores, small restaurants and banks – for trucks to park. These work just as well for us and we have always found truckers to be a friendly, gregarious bunch, who watch out for one another. We chose to park the RV close to the park and later regret that decision. It is Saturday night and there is a pickup volleyball game which meant a lot of noise. No sooner did the game end and the young men left than a band started playing at the restaurant next door. The music went on until 4am. When I got up at six, I felt as though I had had no sleep but we still have a long way to go to get to Manaus. On our third day in Brazil, we cross the equator, 385 miles from the border. It is pouring with rain and so we park along with some other trucks to wait it out. We want to take some photos and hope we don’t have too long to wait for the rain to let up. Sure enough, not 15 minutes later, the sun is peeking out. The only problem, bright red mud and lots of it. Still this will be our only opportunity to photograph this end of the equator; we will get another chance in Ecuador. Tom gets out and sets up the tripod and I walk Winston a little. Within minutes, his white beagle belly and legs are covered in mud. Tom calls us over and we manage to get a few photos of us at the equator before heading back to the RV and with the help of some old towels, clean up ourselves and the pooch. Not nine miles further the road ends and we are forced to pull into a police checkpoint and posto. Apparently, this is the start of the indigenous Waimiri Atroari territory and once you pass the gate which is open from 6am to 6pm for 120Km you can’t stop, take photos, get out of car, nothing, as the police informed us. It is not safe with banditos! “How long to Manaus?” we ask, we have found it better to refer to a place as how long it takes because kilometers are deceiving when the road is in bad shape. 10 Kms could take an hour. “Four hours”, was the reply. It is 2pm and gets dark at 5:30. We don’t want to get caught in the dark and in indigenous territory so decide to call it an early day drive and barbeque hamburgers for dinner. I checked our mileage, only 88 miles in 5 hours including the photo stop. Slow progress indeed. But we are safe for the night. As we wait many trucks pull in to park to wait for daylight and activity is high until about 7, when everyone settles down. At least we will get some decent sleep and be in Manaus on Monday. The final stretch to Manaus was 200 miles from the Indigena Reserve and took us closer to 5 hours to drive. Driving through the reserve is beautiful with the jungle growing close to both sides of the road, interspersed with swamps and wetlands. When we finally arrive in Manaus, we have one main objective. This is where we need to secure passage on a barge to take us down the Amazon River to Belem, as there are no roads to get to the southern part of Brazil.

Ciudad Bolivar to Santa Elena de Uiaren. Monday, January 10th, 2011

It is 425 miles to Santa Elena and because Route 10 through La Gran Sabana is so well maintained it could be driven in two days with one overnight stop. But who can rush through the absolutely spectacular terrain of La Gran Sabana? This vast rolling savannah is completely magnificent, with numerous waterfalls and rivers, amazing pink and red tinged sandstone rock formations, indigenous native Pemon settlements with thatched roofs and mud walled dwellings, huge tepuyes (“mesa-like” structures) and stunning views. Leaving Ciudad Bolivar, we first pass through Ciudad Guayana which is the headquarters of Venezuela’s heavy industry. Huge steel, iron and aluminium plants using hydroelectric power from the Guri Dam, dominate the city. Our first night’s stop is the village of Guasipati at an abandoned horse ranch. After a quiet and early night we set off at about 9am. Our intent is to be settled by early afternoon on the savannah. Not long after, we begin the steady climb to La Gran Sabana which eventually levels off at about 4,500 ft., bringing with it the welcoming breezes and cooler temperatures. After passing several signs for settlements and camping, we eventually see a sign for Salto Kawi (salto meaning falls) and pull in to check it out. Just a short drive from the road is a Pemon settlement and a beautiful waterfall. We see a couple of tents and a group of the local Pemon people. “Can we park and camp overnight?” we ask. “Of course” we are informed. We find a level spot for the RV and with Winston running here and there making friends with the local dogs, we head for the falls. Swimming is allowed but no soaps or shampoos, says a large sign. Our first taste of La Gran Sabana and we are entranced. That night we went to bed with the doors and windows open to the night air only to be awakened at about 3am by…cold. I was shivering. We have gotten so used to the heat and humidity that the higher elevation has caught us by surprise. Another surprise was when we got up to find a blanket. The sky was clear and filled with more stars than either Tom or I have seen. It is a wondrous sight. We try to find the familiar constellations of back home...The Big Dipper, North Star and Orion’s Belt but find new ones we couldn’t identify and the Milky Way stretches across the sky as vividly as a celestial rainbow. Awesome. Wednesday morning we would like to stay another day in La Gran Sabana but want to get to Santa Elena. Tom needs a visa to enter Brazil and so we want to get to the consulate to get the process going as it can take 24 to 72 hours to get approval. Americans must have a visa issued by a Brazilian consulate not more than one month prior to entering the country; citizens of the E.U. (European Union) do not. I, as a British citizen (with permanent residency in the US) do not need a visa, go figure. As we are driving we pass rock formations glistening pink in the morning sun, spot fires in the distance started by lightning strikes (we think) and a hitchhiker. We stop. Marilu is Cuban and is a real estate agent who has spent the last 5 years living on the Isla Margarita. She is staying in Santa Elena but has been on the savannah, travelling around for a past few days. We talk about Isla Margarita, Cuba and Venezuela. She has relatives in Miami and would like to visit one day. We decide to stop at Quebrada de Jaspe, a beautiful waterfall made up from bright red Jasper rock. There are plenty of people playing and splashing in the falls and we join them although Winston did not like the water falling on him. Marilu met some people that she knew from Santa Elena and decided to stay longer with them. We needed to get to town to work on Tom’s visa, so with promises to stay in touch we hit the road again. Santa Elena is a typical border town, a little run down and neglected but since it is a starting point for many tourists going to La Gran Sabana and the nearby tepuyes, particularly Roraima there are plenty of foreigners and backpackers. We spend the night by the roadside at the edge of town and plan on an early assault on the consulate. Thursday morning after asking some local military for directions we find the consulate. Imagine our surprise when, after filling out the paperwork, are told that the visa will be ready by 1pm. Luck is with us as that means we can enter Brazil on Friday instead of waiting until Monday. Winston is not a problem we are told. Since it is so close we decide to go back into La Gran Sabana for our last night in Venezuela. We had passed numerous camping spots and decided on one at the Sarowopo settlement. Just a short distance from the road and there is a beautiful camping spot with plenty of room of the RV and for Winston to roam. And so it is, I sit and type and watch the night sky, again filled with stars. So many stars. And I reflect on our stay in Venezuela, the places we have seen and people we have met. This country has an amazingly untapped tourist potential and it would be a shame if vacationers stayed away simply because the media deems it undesirable and unfriendly. Ciao to Venezuela and Viva La Revolucion.