Brazil on the happy side
Ubatuba Travel Blog› entry 27 of 86 › view all entries
As we left our love motel still half asleep, we realised the BR-101, the main road south, is better than the strongest expresso! Constant traffic pushing past us at high speed;fast cars, roaring trucks and bus drivers apparently on angeldust. They favour overtaking on blind corners, into oncoming traffik pushing the slower car onto the hardshoulder. Or failing that they are just using the hardshoulder themselves to do a smooth inside loop at 100 mph. Never mind us... Extreme heat, stress and hills had us showered in sweat all day.
As we were still homeless by nightfall and i was silently sulking, darens insistant belief that the swamps and forrests would give way and leave a small space for our tent, payed off and he found us a perfect campspot. A bit slopey, but the view over the sea and a small village below and the dark mountains towering behind the bay was stunning. Small fireflies darted around in the darkness like torches being carried by invisible people. I thought of the nordic myths and the things enticing you to get lost in swamps and forrests.
The next day all weather systems collapsed. We woke up in soaring heat and clouds shaping into dark towers on the horizon. But we had new plans. We had decided that too many things were against us riding the BR-101 and were going to rent a car, drive 1000 km south and try again. However two hours later, on a bench, we were left with no car and no sensible busroute. Only a terribly dark mood for me and even darker thunderclouds... That was that though and on our bench we decided to face up to our ride around the world and ride the BR-101. Out of that decission came a whole new set of roadrules:
We cycled mostly on the opposite hardshoulder in order to see the inside overtakers. Every time a blind corner came we crossed to the correct side of the road, avoiding people shaving 10 meters off their drive. You become extra eyes and ears for each other in this sort of traffic and we were constantly shouting to each other ´bus´, ´truck´, ´get off the road´... and then we´d both dive into the messy green roadside. However it worked well, over the next days we covered some buisy 200 km and now it´s fine.
But the weather wasn´t fine that day and it´s still not fine now over a week later. We had to set up the tent in record time, pushed by distant thunder and slow heavy raindrops the size of pigeon puh. That night a tropical thundrstorm stuck over us, constant lightening iluminating our tent and the rain and thunder too noisy to have the ipod on. All we could do was wait. 10 hours later we woke up to a puddle in the footend of the tent and thick gray clouds eager to soak us again.
A week on with either rain or just wet hot air Daren is batteling constant soaked shoes and worries about trenchfoot and i´m batteling some rainfuelled deamons in my head. But you adapt and our comfortzones have (again) been moved. Daren is now happy with only slightly damp footwear and a drizzle of rain whilst a bushelter and a coffee is pure luxury for me! However our bikes comfortzones are unextendable and they seem to bee falling to pieces in the constant wetness.
Not so easy afterall...