Travel Diary: Brazil – from the Amazon jungle to the Atlantic ocean (September 2023)

Having entered Brazil at what is its most western border post where the countries of Peru, Bolivia and Brazil meet we had a fairly simple plan: we knew we wanted to spend close to 6 months in the country and intended for most of that time to be on the coast which meant we had a long drive ahead of us to traverse the country in order to get to the Atlantic Ocean.  In our rough planning/thinking we had thought ahead to how and where we would exit the country and effectively had two options in mind.  

The first would be to continue a northern route along the Atlantic coast into French Guiana, then Suriname and British Guyana before briefly popping back into Brazil and then out via Venezuela.  Venezuela has recently become an interesting option to travel via with the borders re-opening and a number of travelers reporting very positive experiences there despite what mainstream media might tell us. The potential stumbling block with this option was that Tania would need a visa for French Guiana as it is a French territory and therefore requires a Schengen visa which we hoped we could apply for while in the capital Brasilia.

Our second and fallback option was to take a roughly 5-day ferry boat ride up the Amazon river to the city of Manaus and from there to head directly north into Venezuela.  With this option we could still potentially divert into British Guyana and Suriname if we desired but as we are not into visiting countries just to claim an additional country visited we have yet to decide if we will make that diversion or not.

As option 1 was our first choice, our route planning was also influenced by that as it meant we needed to spend time in Brasilia which pretty much sits in the middle of the country and fortunately based  on where we entered could easily be included on the line drawn to get to the coast, provided we first headed roughly 2300km along and around the edge of Bolivia from our entry point which coincidentally would take us to the Pantanal region.  

The Pantanal is the world’s largest wetland and famous for its Jaguars, it is also the place where one year prior we experienced near disaster in Mr Jones and ultimately never got to see the Jaguars – we therefore had unfinished business and it seemed fitting that we should start our second extended visit in Brazil here.

Normally when entering a new country, we have two priorities which can usually be accomplished on the first afternoon:  finding an ATM to obtain some local currency and then finding a cellphone provider shop in order to obtain a local prepaid SIM card so that we can connect to the internet and be both in touch with the world and use essential apps like google maps and translator.  This time was however rather different as the nearest major town from our point of entry was Porto Velho, a mere 800km from the border post.  With no tourist infrastructure on this route, we put our heads down and arrived in Porto Velho 2,5 days later.

In most countries obtaining a prepaid SIM card is a relatively easy (if somewhat slow) process of presenting your passport and being registered on the system but not in Brazil as here you fall foul of the infamous “CPF”.   The CPF is technically a Brazilians taxpayer identity number but in Brazil it is often requested when arriving at the supermarket checkout, when using an automatic self-service laundromat, when buying bus tickets and so much more. For many of these transactions you can usually state you don’t have one and continue but not when obtaining a prepaid cellphone sim.  The cellphone company’s computer software just simply does not allow them to register a SIM card on the system unless it is linked to a CPF number.  We had encountered this back in April 2022 and that time thanks to the kindness of Brazilian friends we had made just after crossing the border we had “worked around” this obstacle when they registered the SIM under their name.  

Stuart had done some research this time around and found out that firstly it was possible to register for a CPF as a foreigner and more importantly that provided you don’t overstay your tourist visa period, there is no risk of falling into the Brazilian income tax system and thus becoming a Brazilian taxpayer as well as a South African one.  He had therefore applied for a CPF just prior to leaving Peru and with perfect timing and thanks to being able to use the shopping centers free WiFi, it arrived via email as we stood outside a cellphone shop and therefore after just a few hours we were once again connected to the World Wide Web and perhaps even more importantly would be able to use self-service laundromats “hassle free” for the next 6 months.

Porto Velho is a major river-port town as the river it sits on (the Madeira) is a tributary of the Amazon and as such it is the most Western city that is navigable to by river boat and ferry. For many overlanders it is the city where either their foray into the heart of the Amazon begins or ends, whether it be via the infamous BR319 (for some a rite of passage dirt road that connects to Manaus) or as an embarkment point or disembarkment point from a river ferry which may have brought them all the way up the river from close to the Atlantic ocean.   

We knew that whichever of the route options mentioned above we ended up using, that we would be returning to the Amazon region in roughly 5 months’ time and so once we had the SIM card, we turned Mr Jones nose south towards the Pantanal.  The theme for the next 1600km was a simple one:  rise early, intersperse a full day’s drive with some regular rest stops when we spotted some shade and then spend the night in a gas station/truck stop.

Around lunchtime on the 3rd day, we stopped Mr Jones under the “TransPanteneira” sign for a photo even though Tania was a bit superstitious about doing so!  The reason for her fears were well founded, almost exactly 1 year prior we had taken the exact some photo and then experienced the toughest and most harrowing 48 hours we have ever had in our travels while we dealt with serious fuel starvation issues which on the second day had caused us to take 10 hours to complete 100km, including dealing with a small fire in the engine bay, as Stuart tried to nurse Mr Jones back to the nearest big town.   (See our September 2022 Travel Diary for more). Needless to say, we did not have fond memories of this road but thankfully this time we made it across the 120+ plus bridges the road is famous for and to the village of Porto Jofre, the river gateway to the Pantanal.

We were hoping to find some fellow overlanders in Porto Jofre with whom we could share the cost of a Jaguar boat tour and when we arrived our hopes were buoyed as there were a few vehicles in the campsite but sadly they had all arrived a couple of days prior and already completed their tours.  The many long and hot days of driving had taken it out of us and even though it was equally hot in Porto Jofre, the views over the river were pleasant and the river did provide a bit of a cooling effect so we decided to take a rest day which would also hopefully result in some new travelers arriving with whole we could share the cost of a boat.   Alas nobody did arrive but in hindsight this was perhaps a good thing as it meant we had the small boat to ourselves and our guide was happy to stop and let us admire the many birds and perhaps less sexy attractions of the Pantanal.  While the Pantanal is the world’s largest wetland, the quantity of water is seasonal and at this time of the year there is the least water around which means the wildlife (aka Jaguars) are typically easier to find as they hang around near the major watercourses.

Apart from the wildlife the Pantanal is also a very popular sport fishing destination and roughly 30 minutes into our day on the boat we come around a bend in the river to find our neighbors from camp (who were here to fish) staring intently into the dense bush next to the river.  It turned out they had, had the most fortuitous sighting of a mother Jaguar and her baby swimming across the river and had lost sight of her in the undergrowth.  

Obviously, the success of a jaguar boat tour is in the sighting of one or more Jaguars which means the boat drivers all work together (via radio) in keeping other informed of a sighting and within a few minutes we got to see how many tourists (staying at luxury lodges) there were in fact in the area.  Incredibly the mommy and her cub were right at the water’s edge but remained well hidden for quite some time despite upwards of 50 pairs of eyes scanning for her, there was a flurry of excitement when she did appear briefly before disappearing deeper into the bush.  In no time at all the flotilla had dispersed in various directions, including ourselves.

For the next hour or so, we slowly cruised up a few smaller creeks and along the main Cuiaba river, stopping regularly to admire the many birds, caiman and a family of giant otters all while eagerly scanning the river edges for a Jaguar. 

 (the names of each bird can be seen when reviewing the pictures in the gallery)

We had cruised quite far, when the radio announced a Jaguar had been spotted and then it was a case of hold on tight to your hat as the driver gunned the outboard and brought the narrow little boat up on full plane and banked hard around the corners. As it turned out the jaguar was found in a tree along one of the tributaries we had meandered down but obviously wasn’t there when we passed, this time however the sighting was really close with it resting in a tree and so we joined the flotilla to patiently see if anything happened further.     

Unlike Jaguars in other parts of South America that prey on land-based mammals, the jaguars of the Pantanal have adapted to their wetland environment by largely eating caiman (small crocodiles) and fish.   This one was particularly good at teasing the flotilla as just as everyone looked like they may be getting bored, it would stand up on its branch and stare intently into the lilies below it and directly in front of the boats as if it was contemplating launching itself off to catch a caiman. Needless to say, this resulted in the rapid clicking of shutters from some seriously large telephoto lenses and we were certainly not immune from this behavior.

That evening back in camp we were gifted some fish from our neighbors and early morning Jaguar spotters, which we braaied a few days later and although a little bony were delicious. 

Apart from the potential opportunity to obtain visas in Brasilia, it also offered the opportunity to have a major service (including his cam belt) done on Mr Jones by Patrick the landy guru in Brasilia who we had visited last year as well.   While in the Pantanal Stuart had contacted Patrick, who had confirmed that he would be more than happy to give Mr J some love and attention but was currently attending the annual Brazilian Landy festival and would only be back in Brasilia in 2 weeks’ time.  This left us with quite a bit of time to kill, as while we still had to travel 1200km, we knew from last year that the route did not offer too many spots where we would want to stay for more than a night so when we stumbled across a pleasant little campsite outside Cuiaba we quickly opted to stay for a few days.  It was a very simple setup on the banks of a small river but the husband and wife who owned the property where the most soft and gentle souls and within the first 24 hours had already invited us over for lunch and brought us a lovely orange sponge cake to enjoy with our morning coffee. 

When it come time to leave, Stuart discovered a flat front tyre and was busy setting up to change it when the owner and his friend descended on Mr Jones to help, they were super eager to help and in fact takeover, so that Stuart didn’t have to get hot and dirty (it was 10am and already in the mid 30’s). Our limited Portuguese couldn’t get across that we had this under control and that Stuart would prefer to do it himself as first it needed the hi-lift jack to get the car high enough to put the bottle jack under and we were on a slope with slightly soft sand so preferred to approach the process with a measured pace to ensure nothing got damaged.  There were a few choice words in Afrikaans (although we could easily have used English as nobody understood each other!) between us as Stuarts frustration got the better of him but eventually he slowed things down and with their help the wheel was changed.  Definitely one of those moments when subsequently you feel more than a little embarrassed at your behavior as all they wanted to do was help.

We had chosen to leave Cuiaba on a Sunday which meant the tyre “shops” were closed and anyhow as we were to discover over the next day’s having stopped at multiple spots as we continued our eastwards journey across the country, in Brazil you can’t just stop at a “Tiger wheel and Tyre” and quickly have your puncture plugged.  The tyre shops only sell and fit new tyres whereas there is a multitude of places with the name “borracharia” painted on a tyre outside – Borracha means rubber and these are in theory tyre repair places although as we quickly discovered many in fact only own a compressor and jack and perform inflation services or a tyre swap with your spare wheel.  Eventually we resorted to trying at the truck stops but even then, they didn’t have a bath of water to put the tyre in and spot a leak.  Sometimes what should be the simplest of problems can take the longest to resolve when on the road in a foreign land.

Roughly 2 hours outside of Brasilia is an old historic town of Pirenopolis which we knew quite well as last year when we had some recurring mechanical issues we had stayed here 3 times as we bounced back and forwards to Brasilia trying to resolve them.  It has nice little campsite with a pool to cool off in and decent Wi-Fi which is pretty much all you need when killing time.  The manager may not have recognised us but he did Mr Jones and gave us a warm welcome back.

Brasilia has a very large man-made lake alongside which you can camp for free and a Brazilian friend who last year had helped us get our Covid booster shots had offered to take us out on the lake on his boat if we happened to be there on a weekend which was easy enough to do as we had planned to drop Mr J with Patrick on a Monday. Unfortunately, Herbert wasn’t able to take us on the boat in the end but nonetheless we spent a very pleasant weekend on the banks of the dam, people watching and, in the evenings, enjoying the company of two Swiss overlanders who were parked next to us.

Monday morning saw us up early and heading across town, fortunately against the traffic, to Patricks garage where a warm welcome awaited both Mr Jones and ourselves. It was a fairly long list of items that Stuart needed to discuss with Patrick with the main and most important two being a change of the cam belt and most likely the removal of the gearbox so that the crankshaft oil seal on the back of the engine could be replaced.  The latter item and resultant leak had been with us since January and our time on the Argentinian coast, back then we had attempted to hookup with a Landy enthusiast just outside Buenos Aires to do the job together with no success, then after having driving across the country we had tried to have it done at a landy mechanic in Mendoza and both times not been successful, either due to a lack of interest or Mr Jones being too heavy for the lift equipment on hand.  The mechanic in BA had assured us that it shouldn’t be too much of an issue and we could fix it “somewhere down the line”, to his credit it hadn’t been and in fact the leak had provided a slightly unintended benefit:  because the oil drip fell on the propshaft it then got spread to the chassis either side of the prop and acted as a rust inhibiter..

With the discussions out of the way, we hopped into an Uber and heading for an Airbnb in the city centre which we had booked for the next 3 nights.  With such a big job to be done, it was difficult to estimate the time required and if any complications may arise in the process but Stuart estimated 3 days to be adequate.  As we had already spent time in Brasilia last year we didn’t feel the need to do any of the touristy things and instead immediately set about trying to attend to the To-Do list we had created.  As with Mr Jones, ours was quite extensive and included amongst others: visiting the French embassy; finding a dentist for an overdue teeth cleaning; getting “another” new pair of reading glasses for Stuart; shopping at The BodyShop for face and body creams.  

We also made the most of our time in town to enjoy dinners out at some nice restaurants and it was on our second night out while talking about how different Brasilia felt this time around that it dawned on us that there is a nice comfort in “familiarity” such as knowing where a nice restaurant is and the easiest way to walk there.  It may seem obvious but we have got so used to being nomadic and always being somewhere new that we don’t realise how tiring it can get when done continuously.  The flip side of that is we would also get bored very quickly if we stay too long in one place.

As Stuart had initially estimated, Mr Jones was ready on the morning of the 4th day and once we had settled a rather hefty bill we pointed Mr J’s nose once more eastward to begin another cycle of drive all day and sleep in gas stations at night, then rinse and repeat until we reached the Atlantic ocean.  We had two routing options, the first being to go slightly north and then east on what would be largely a similar route to the one we took last year when coming inland and the second option was to go a little south and then east which would take us across the state of Minas Gerais.  Last year when we had explained our route to Brazilians the majority had been horrified that we hadn’t visited this particular state and so we felt it was only logical that we therefore take the latter route and at least be able to say we had visited Minas Gerais, even if only a small portion.

Two and half days and 1400km later we pulled into a campsite and surf spot called BackDoor.  The last day was a hard push with not many breaks but for good reason, the Springboks were playing Ireland in the Rugby World Cup and we were hoping the campsite would have good WiFi enabling us to see the game, which it did have and we were only late by 15 minutes, meaning we got to see most of the game which sadly we lost.   We must have made quite a sight to the other campers upon our arrival with a super-fast setup of Mr J roof followed by a whipping out of the iPad and frantic search for the Wi-Fi password so that we could stream the game!

A few days later Stuart enjoyed a very low-key birthday with catchup’s via WhatsApp video call with family and friends in the morning, time on the beach either side of a very nice tapas style lunch at Mr Jones and instead of a birthday cake because we are not that organised we improvised with shortbread tarts filled with dulce de leche know as caramel to us in SA sold by a wandering baker on the beach. There were no fancy dinners or nights out because of where we were but we had enjoyed those in Brasilia anyhow.  The only thing missing from the birthday was a fun surf session as the wind had been blowing all week and messing the waves up, but that was to change by the weekend and then he proceeded to make an absolute pig of himself.

It had been quite an eventful month, with large distances driven, a conquering of our nemesis (the Pantanal), a major service and love for Mr Jones and finally a fantastic few days recovering on a great beach with much more of the last part to look forward to in the next months

Below are links to other pages that complement this diary entry: