Category: Travel Diary

Last month’s travel diary (August – Travel Diary) ended with us hopeful that we had got to the bottom of Mr J coolant addiction and that we would soon be looking forward too many trouble-free miles across the continent and so having collected Mr Jones after a couple of days we began September by retracing our steps to the little historical and picturesque town of Pirenopolis. This was to be our third visit (thanks to previous radiator issues and backtracking) so we only paused for the night before heading further west.  While we hoped to find one or two places to spend a couple of nights at, our main goal at this point was to get across to Brazil’s western border with Bolivia and the Pantanal region.

The Pantanal is the world’s largest tropical wetland and one of its largest flooded grasslands, it covers an area slightly larger than England and supports both a large wildlife population as well as huge cattle ranches.  The floodwaters drain out of its basin between April to September making September a prime wildlife viewing month as the animals are more concentrated around the main water sources and rivers.  We hoped to do a river boat tour and get to spot the elusive Jaguar as a way to celebrate Stuart’s upcoming 50th birthday but first we had 1400km on minor roads to cover.

The first two days and 600km went by relatively easy apart from the extreme heat and then as we pulled into a relatively small town called Barra do Garcas, Mr Jones cut-out!  The symptoms appeared like a fuel starvation issue and as we have experienced this previously thanks to dirty diesel clogging pipes and filters, Stuart’s “go-too” solution was to hop out and quickly drain the fuel sedimenter.  This typically releases any vacuum created by a blockage and allows us to get going again, unfortunately this time it was not to be and Mr Jones would cut out as soon as his revs dropped to idle or thereabouts.  Most small Brazilian towns have an excessive amount of speed bumps, as a traffic calming measure, which meant every time we slowed for one of these Mr Jones would cutout.  It was midday on a Saturday with temperatures hovering around 40deg Celsius and the campsite we had been aiming for was only 10km away, with the possibility of shade and a calm environment to problem solve within so we struggled through town by wherever possible keeping the revs up high and when not just restarting every time he died.  With nerves frayed and tempers on edge we arrived at the campsite to find that while there was some shade, it was going to take quite some maneuvering to get Mr J into it which meant multiple “stalls”, restarts and high revs – the poor campsite owner must have really wandered about Stuart’s driving skills…

After lunch and a beer, Stuart put out an SOS WhatsApp to the mechanic in Brasilia (Patrick) for ideas as to what the issue could be and then set about trying to fix it.  Patrick reached out to a fellow Landy owner, who lived in the town to see if he could come out to the campsite and help us, however as he is a tour guide and was out with clients he could only come out the following evening which he duly did – arriving at camp at 8pm.  In the meantime, Stuart had drained and cleaned the fuel sedimeneter, tightened all pipe fittings, changed the fuel lift pump and fuel filter and made a bracket for the filter to fix the mounting we had discovered was loose but all to no avail as Mr Jones would start and run at high revs but die as soon as he idled.  Having by now exhausted both ourselves and any fixes we were capable of, all that could be done was to limp back into town the following day and visit a diesel mechanic.  Stuart did have one more trick up his sleeve for the journey and zip tied a bolt onto the accelerator cable to push it out further at idle and thus keep the revs up for the journey.

The issue turned out to be a broken camshaft in the injector pump which meant another Airbnb stay while it was overhauled and to complicate matters further a public holiday (Independence Day) fell mid-week resulting in an extended stay.  At this point the only positive we could take from the experience was that the Airbnb had air conditioning, as the temperature remained in the upper 30’s all day long and only dropped slightly in the evenings. In last month’s blog we mentioned Clecio, a Landy fanatic who had tracked us down while in Vitoria based on a sighting his friends had made of a foreign Landy driving through town.  Clecio lives in Chicago but had offered his help to us back then “for anything” we needed assistance with, at the time none of us knew how valuable that offer would be and, in this instance, Clecio become Stuart’s personal google translator. The google translate app is very handy but occasionally we would get a WhatsApp from the mechanic which google told us something like “the bomb is being assembled in the van”!  While we had a pretty good idea that he was referring to the injector pump, Clecio was always on hand to give us the correct interruption which in this case was that in Portuguese the word “bomba” can mean bomb or pump depending on context.

When we got news late on the 4th afternoon that Mr Jones was ready, Stuart eagerly set off, despite the heat, for the 5km walk to the mechanic (there were no Ubers in this small town and we had no means of summoning a taxi).  Apart from an expensive bill, all seemed good with Mr Jones until disaster struck only 2km from the mechanic when Mr J’s temperature and low coolant alarms both sounded.  It turned out that somehow, they had created a vacuum in the cooling system while removing and reinstalling the injector pump, exactly how is a mystery but the fact was Mr J had now quickly overheated.  After some arguing in which they refused to accept any responsibility we left town with a bitter taste in our mouth but hopeful that thanks to the alarms, we had detected the issue quick enough and that no lasting damage had been done.

Desperately needing a place to reset, calm down and restore a little bit of mojo we found the perfect spot 300km down the road called “Aguas Quentes do Buritizal”.  Fortunately, the name was deceiving as the water was not hot but a perfect temperature for just soaking in while enjoying the bubbles of the natural spring underfoot.  After a couple of nights and feeling duly rejuvenated we again resumed our journey towards the Pantanal.

The launching point for the boat tours which will hopefully take you to see a Jaguar is a little village called Porto Jofre, of which the last 200km is along a badly corrugated (wash board) road through the Pantanal grasslands with no cellphone signal.  Sadly, within 1km of these corrugations, Mr J come to a grinding halt with once again symptoms of fuel starvation. Once again it was midday and stinking hot and once again we limped forward towards a campsite which was 20km away, every time he cut-out we did our best to freewheel forward into a small patch of shade in which to fiddle and get him started.  At the campsite that afternoon, the long process of trying to figure out the issue began again.  

It was clear that Mr Jones was trying to tell us he didn’t want to go the Pantanal in search of Jaguars and so the following morning having tried all the standard fixes (tightened hoses, looked for leaks, blown compressed air down the pipes, check condition of filter and sedimenter) we set off, hoping to get back to Cuiaba and a mechanic. We didn’t make it 200m down the road before he cut out again and so opted to return to camp and try find an alternative solution.  Mr Jones has 3 fuel tanks, the first two are connected and fuel flows between them naturally whereas the third one requires a small electric fuel pump to transfer fuel from it to the main tank.  The alternative solution Stuart come up with, was to reroute a number of pipes in order that we could use the electric fuel pump to feed the injection pump directly and thus hopefully avoid any vacuums being created.

This solution worked reasonably well but not perfectly as we still ground to a halt a number of times over the course of the next day as we tried to get back to Cuiaba culminating in near disaster when a short in the wiring caused a small fire.  Fortunately, we were quick on the draw with the fire extinguisher and put it out quickly and after some repairs to the now damaged wiring could move forward again.  As we pulled into a truck stop that night (it had taken 10 hours to do 100km), the emotions finally boiled over!  Not only was Mr J broken but we were both physically and mentally exhausted and seriously reconsidering the concept of travelling in Mr Jones.

As with the previous breakdown, once we had got signal on the phone Stuart had sent an SOS to the mechanic in Brasilia and together with one of his customers they had found a garage in Cuiaba for us to visit the following morning.  It was only 30km away but still involved one “forced stop” to quickly reroute the piping in order to transfer fuel from one tank to another and then reroute it back again so that the electric pump could send fuel to the engine.  The recommended garage was expecting us on arrival and immediately set about fixing Mr J.  Eight hours later we were back on the road and holding thumbs that this was the end of our issues even if Stuart did still have another day of work ahead of him to fix some of the burnt electrical wiring we hadn’t needed to fix on the side of the road, two days prior. And Tania had a day of cleaning to try and get rid of as much white fire extinguisher powder from the interior as possible.

Up until this point we had always pushed onwards after leaving a mechanic but this time we decided to take the cautious approach and rather tour around the area, in that way if everything hadn’t been fixed we could go back and request a re-work. Near to Cuiaba is a small mountainous region called Chapada dos Guimaraes and so that is where we headed which unwittingly meant Mr J got a real test as the drive involved some long and very hot climbs.  Thankfully he passed with flying colors which left us feeling more optimistic.

We aren’t ones to really collect and tick-off the places visited but as an interesting side note we now found ourselves in the geographic centre of the continent and with a bit of luck will hopefully reach its southern most point in a few month’s time.

A rather unfortunate side effect of all the mechanical expenses the last month was that our arms at this point had become incredibly short and unfortunately there was nothing to do in the region that did not require dipping into the wallets to pay for a visit to a waterfall or other attraction.  It is something we have struggled with in general throughout the central interior part of the country: the need to pay for visiting any attraction whether it be natural or not.  The concept of tourism generating local revenue is good, but on some days if we had wanted to just visit 3 very average waterfalls it would have cost us in excess of ZAR800!  A real reminder of how lucky we are in South Africa and why South Africa should be an even more popular tourism destination.  A tipping point for us in this particular area was when we wandered into town and sat down at a bar for a drink which had some live music, when calling for the bill an entertainment surcharge was tacked on which was more than the drinks!

With Mr Jones having not exhibited any issues on our little excursion to Chapada dos Guimaraes, we felt comfortable to now point his nose South as we had roughly one month left on our 6-month visa and didn’t want to rush through the south western portion of Brazil. Sadly, Murphy was still hanging around inside Mr J which we were only to discover a couple of days later when during his standard morning routine checks Stuart noticed the coolant level had dropped and when we stopped for lunch it had dropped again!  At this point in time when it came to Mr J and his issues we had very short fuses and you therefore do not need fantastic imaginations to know what the mood was like inside him that afternoon, fortunately we stopped at a lovely campsite on the banks of a river. Apart from the campsite being in a lovely location it also had no cellphone signal or WI-FI, which forced us to switch off and reflect on the status quo.

The summary of that reflection was that while the last month of travelling had been very hard and far from enjoyable we in general did not want to give up on the lifestyle, however we couldn’t (and didn’t want to) do it with a car as unreliable as Mr Jones currently was.  This left us with two options, either ship him home and find an alternative vehicle somewhere in the Americas or alternatively attempt to get to the bottom of his issues while still in Brazil, which has reasonable access to Land Rover parts & expertise.  As Tania wisely pointed out at this point, to ship him home would be costly and would still require additional expenditure to fix him in South Africa, so it was a “no brainer” decision to attempt to fix him now and to then continue travelling with our “own home”.

Having made the decision and to some extent taken a load off our minds, we decided to stay an extra day and enjoy the hot weather and lovely cool river.

The following morning Stuart did his usual pre-drive check of fluid levels and a general engine inspection and was almost grinning when he popped his head out from under the hood.  Any normal person would not be grinning upon discovering lumpy residue on the oil dipstick but for Stuart this confirmed what he had suspected (and feared) for some time, that there was an issue with the cylinder head gasket and it also hopefully indicated that we had found the source of the current issues.   We have always said that Mr Jones is an Officer and a Gentleman in that he has never truly let us down and always gets us to a place of safety, no matter his issue, and it felt like once again he had done that – we had affirmed our commitment to him the day before and he rewarded us by revealing the source of his ailment.  

All that we now needed to do was drive the 200km into the next big town, Campo Grande, and find a suitable Land Rover mechanic.  As soon as we had signal, Stuart put out another SOS to our Brazilian friends for them to recommend a mechanic but as it turned out this time we beat them to the punch as we found a mechanic almost immediately upon our arrival in town.  

It didn’t take long for the mechanic to also confirm the head gasket as being the likely issue.  Unfortunately, we weren’t about to get off that lightly as when he sent the cylinder head off for pressure testing it was discovered that, that also had a crack in it and as that is not a serviceable item the hunt immediately began for a replacement which could only be found in another city out of the state.   Thanks to the marvels of modern logistics this was shipped overnight and arrived the next day.

Stuart’s 50th birthday was approaching and life on the road can make celebrating such events rather strange as you often can’t predict where you may be, who you may be with or even if you will have Wi-Fi so that family and friends can be in contact.  Getting Mr Jones back with a new cylinder head and hopefully the end of his current woes was, weirdly, the best present and then as an added bonus we got to meet up with two fellow South African’s.  We had been chatting with (but never met) Louis & Kareen from @fearless_on_fourwheels since 2021 when we were trying to figure out shipping of vehicles to South America with all the COVID restrictions in place at that time.  Ultimately, they didn’t ship their vehicle and instead opted to purchase a small van in Chile, and as luck would have it they had just entered Brazil and were heading North so our paths crossed.

As our breakdowns had prevented us from going into the real “wild” Pantanal we had been considering doing a short 250km loop that overlanders have termed “the anteater” road thanks to the high probability that you will see Giant Anteaters along it.  It is a dirt road that joins the towns of Rio Verde and Aquidauana as it cuts through the cattle ranching grasslands of the Pantanal with a number of spots where you can wild / free camp.  As Louis & Kareen had also been considering doing it, we decided to drive it together.

Our first night on the anteater road was Stuart’s actual birthday and Kareen very kindly presented a bottle of sparkling red wine (which she had brought from Argentina)) for us to share around the campfire in celebration.  

The following day we took a leisurely game drive along the road before pulling over in a little cutting for the evening.  Even though the road traverses’ cattle ranches (Fazienda’s) we managed to spot a wide variety of animals including: the Giant Anteater, Caymans, Capybara’s, a wild pig/boar with lots of babies; a Jabiru (Giant stork), vultures, and many many smaller birds.

The original idea had been to spread the drive over 3 nights but when torrential rain arrived during night two and we awoke to water lapping at the wheels of Mr J (the cutting we had slept in was in a slight dip) it was obvious that a 3rd night would be just a miserable mud fest and that it was time to head out.    Louis & Kareen’s little van is effectively a Toyota Hi-Ace with a raised roof and as we all know a Hi-Ace can pretty much go anywhere but the rain had made the road very slippery so Mr J escorted them out.  Overall the Hi-Ace did very well over the next 100km and only needed a tow out of a particularly muddy section once, nonetheless Kareen was visibly relieved to reach the tar a few hours later. At this point they headed North and we headed south back towards Campo Grande for another round of repairs to Mr Jones.

Thankfully these repairs were not engine related, the awning on the side of the car has a cover with zips to close it.  Apart from the lifting roof the awning is one of the best upgrades we ever made to Mr J as it is quick to both open and close, which means we use it almost daily for both shelter from the sun and rain.  It has been exposed to some very harsh environments for nearly 7 years and done admirably well but some of the stitching had started to come undone and more importantly the zip to close the cover broke on the Anteater road.  It was time to find someone to fix it, which after a a fairly extensive search in which we cross-crossed Campo Grande having been referred from one possible place to the next we eventually found an auto trimmer who could assist.

And that rounds off the month of September, it will be a month we remember for a very long time thanks to all the mechanical issues but in between we did have some nice days and visit some nice destinations. Most importantly we finished the month enthusiastic for further travels and looking forward to new countries as our Brazilian visa soon comes to an end.

As usual below you can find links to other parts of the blog which complement the travel diary:

Captain(s) Log: September 2022 (the highs and in the case of this month, mostly lows of life on the road)

Gallery: Brazil Pantanal region (September 2022)

Cost of Living analysis: Brazil: May – September 2022

Overview of overnight locations and therefore route travelled

Practical Information: Brazil (Visas & extensions, obtaining a local SIM card, etc)

Maintenance Log

Our last travel diary ended at Ponta do Sauipe in Bahia, at that point we had been in Brazil for just over 3 months and had travelled roughly 6000km with most of it having been on the coast.  If the weather had been better we may have been tempted to push a bit further north along the coast but it was not and with an eye on the expiration of our 6-month visa, we had now decided to head inland and then ultimately southwards in order to explore these parts of the country over the remaining couple of months. The coastline along the north-east and northern most reaches together with the Amazon shall have to wait for a return visit.

Considering the vastness of the interior we had been forced to put a rough route and must-see destinations down on paper to ensure we didn’t both run out of time or wander around aimlessly.  The first destination we had identified was the mountainous area of Chapada Diamantina, a mere 500 km inland but at least two days driving considering the relatively slow roads in the region.  The last part of the drive is quite spectacular as you wind up, over and down the mountains and uncanny resemblance to the Cederberg mountains in South Africa had us slack jawed quite a number of times, even the rivers have a black tea colour to them. It had been some hard driving days in hot conditions but we were thoroughly enjoying the change of scenery and prospect off new vistas.

Even the little village of Mucuge where we planned to overnight could have been one of the small towns surrounding the Cederberg, just perhaps a little bit more funky.  The timing of our arrival in town was very fortunate as the campsite had just relocated and we arrived as the last campers were leaving the old one to travel to the new one and so we were able to join them and thus not get lost.  A lot of care has gone into creating the new campsite but although even though we didn’t stay at the original one, it sadly for us lacked the character and positioning of the one in town.  What it lacked in character was more than made up for by the friendliness of the owners and fellow campers, many of whom had been in the area for a couple of months already.  On our second night there a big get together had been arranged to celebrate the opening of the camp, to which were invited and the good news was that a number of the campers spoke English.  We have had a great time in Brazil but with our practically non-existent Portuguese the one aspect we miss in daily life is the ability to have free-flowing conversations with people (other than ourselves) on a regular basis, so apart from the good vibes and food being able to just chat with others made for a wonderful evening. As with the Cederberg, the Diamantina area is very much a hiking and upcoming climbing region, which are activities we don’t really partake in these days so after a couple of days it was time for us to move on.

Our next must-see destination that we had read about was the Jalapao region, which we had read was more spectacular than Chapada Diamantina and less touristy which in the case of the latter we were about to discover was most likely due to its remoteness and difficult access. This time we had 800km of tar and a further 200km of dirt to cover before getting there which would mean at least one night in a truck stop and thankfully just before the dirt section a couple of days in a little piece of paradise.

Overnighting in truck stops may seem rather strange to our average reader but in Brazil it is a common and necessary practice for overland travelers given the huge distances to be covered, while it is by no means a glamorous overnight destination we had so far found them to be safe and to have clean ablutions with free showers.  In addition, we feel a sense of community with the truck drivers, who are also sometimes travelling with their wives while living in their “mobile homes”.    On this leg of the journey though we got to experience a “less than great” truck stop:  upon arrival we didn’t like the vibe as it was quite dirty and filled with shady looking characters thanks probably to it being closer to a town than most of the others we had stayed at, but as it was late in the day and we were exhausted we decided to stay.  Needless to say, as the darkness arrived the “shadiness” got worse as some “ladies of the night” arrived which, in itself, wouldn’t have been the end of the world as they left us alone but halfway through the evening they started to congregate near Mr. Jones and hold rather loud conversations amongst themselves.  It was the one and only time on this trip that we were grateful not to be able to understand Portuguese…

After a very disturbed night another long day lay ahead but at least (based on pictures) we had a little piece of paradise to look forward to known as Lagoa de Serra.  Our GPS doesn’t show any roads leading to it and so once we reached the closest town it did it’s best to lead us astray by taking the most direct straight line to the lake but thankfully we found the correct dirt road leading out of town and after 45 minutes of following our nose drove into what was most definitely a piece of paradise.    Late on the second day a Brazilian couple arrived who could speak English and as with Diamantina a few days prior we made the most of being able to chat with people other than ourselves which made to a late start of our own braai but well worth it.

If we had known what lay ahead, we would have probably stayed a few more days at Lagoa de Serra but as we didn’t and expecting equal bits of paradise we left after just two days and headed into the sandy and dusty Jalapao region.  To get there we needed to traverse 200km of sand roads which varied from rough corrugation (washboard) to thick powder red talcum like sand.  While hard to appreciate when doing it in 40 deg heat and getting caked in a fine layer of sand, the drive is quite spectacular in that initially it crosses farmlands and then a bushveld like savannah.  The farmlands are spectacular simply for their sheer size and remoteness – maize and wheat fields stretch as far as the horizon and when we tried to measure the width of a field we would easily cover 6km before seeing a single break in the planting.  Signs at some small farm roads would indicate that the farmhouse itself was 50km away!

The main reasons to come to Jalapao are for its huge dune field with spectacular sunsets, its crystal-clear rivers (an ironic contrast to the total dryness around them) and its fervedouras.  As we were tired of being covered in dust and there was no camping near the dunes we chose to forgo those and rather find a camping spot with easy access to the latter two attractions in which to cool off, this we found at Prainha do Mambucca.  The river was wonderful to swim in and the fervedoura a bit freaky to float in.  A fervedoura is a very shallow karst spring which appears to have a solid sand bottom but in fact it is more like suspended sand which when you put a limb in creates the sensation that you could fall through the earth.  We have experienced such a sensation once before at the Kapisha hot springs in Zambia, but there the “suspended floor” area was always small pockets.

This video shows the awesome clarity of the rivers

And this video shows the “freaky” suspended floor of the karst spring

A downside of camping near the river was little miggies and flies that left a very painful bite (similar to our borrachudo experience many months before on Ilha Bela) so after a day and half of rest we decided to skip visiting more of the fervedouras and to move onto hopefully greener pastures.  The plan was to split the hot and dusty journey into two by staying at a campsite whose fancy looking sign (nice photos and advertising a pool) we had passed on the way in. Unfortunately it turned out that while the sign was still in very good condition no such campsite existed anymore and so we put our heads down and bolted southwards.

The journey out of Jalapao was not without its challenges – when during the hottest part of the day and in a section of particularly loose, deep sand Mr. J ran out of power and cut-out. A little over a year ago we went down a rabbit hole for quite some time when he would do a similar trick on a regular basis.  In that case we eventually found that the water sedimenter (a pre-filter close to the fuel tank) was full of gunk and that this was occasionally creating a blockage in the fuel lines, so suspecting the same thing, Stuart opened the sedimenter for a while to release any vacuum as a temporary solution.  The unfortunate thing of coming to a grinding halt in soft sand is that getting going again can be rather difficult as the vehicle “sinks into the sand” when it stops and as we were too lazy in the heat to deflate the tires we relied on Mr. J and his low range to get himself out.  When it works it is quite a cool feeling as you literally feel Mr. J struggle, then rise up on the sand and move forward.

The following morning, after another peaceful sleep in a truck stop, Stuart dismantled the fuel sedimenter and cleaned out the little bit of dirt that was inside.  Our intention at this stage had been to travel another 500km south to the Chapada Dos Veadeiros area but when the truck stop owner/manager come over to engage in conversation about our travels and subsequently recommended a little spot only 2 hours away we happily decided to break the journey up and have a short day.  We have come to learn that every Brazilian has a favorite place and often for good reason.  The place he had suggested was Rio Azuis, which as we discovered when we got there is Brazil’s shortest river at only 147m long but with a flow rate of 11000l per second and as its name suggests it is very blue.  

In the parking area where we camped at the river was Brazilian travelling on a motorbike with whom we had a few stunted conversations during the course of the day, thanks to the inability to speak each other’s language.  During one of these interactions he told us about, and showed us videos, of some cave he had visited the day before and offered to take us there if we wanted? So the following morning Mr. Jones followed his motorbike down a narrow dirt track to an isolated car park and we then happily followed him into the caves.   It was a really special morning as we were the only three in the cave, it was free (a rare thing in Brazil) and it was spectacular!

When we posted the pictures  and story on social media later in the day some family members who clearly have watched too many serial murder tv series were quick with the comments like “met a stranger in a camping parking lot, followed him down an isolated dirt road and into a cave, what could possibly go wrong..” but it had never even crossed our mind and is one of the beauties of travelling – meeting kind hearted souls who you know you can immediately trust and then sometimes others who you know you can’t.

By the time we emerged from the caves it was mid-morning and the temperature was already climbing well into the 30’s so after some quick goodbyes and trying our best to express our gratitude for such a unique experience we hit the road for our next destination, the little tourist town of Alto Paraiso de Goias and the Chapada dos Veadeiros natural area.  After a hot drive we were feeling quite frazzled but as we drove through town on the way to the campsite we had this feeling of calm and tranquility and suspected we could definitely make an extended stay.  After the dust and heat we had experienced over the last week the campsite with tall pine trees and grass was a little piece of paradise, as an added bonus there were two Brazilian motor homes their whose owners spoke English.  They were so hospitable and it was such a pleasure to be able to hold a normal conversation that on the first night (despite the very long day) we stayed up for a “kuier” until 1am.  During the course of the week we had many lovely chats, received lots of tips for the remainder of our trip and got to go on a shopping trip with them into town.  

A shopping trip may sound like a strange highlight but for Tania it was really helpful to go shopping with a Portuguese accomplice and receive hints and tips at the local produce and for Stuart it meant an opportunity to visit a hardware store and procure the necessary bits to build a water storage pipe on the front bumper of Mr Jones. We have an internal water tank but that is for clean drinking water which we don’t like to “waste” for simple regular tasks like hand washing, the water pipe now gives us 15l of general use water which we never have to worry about filtering, etc.

Apart from the sense of tranquility the town exuded, every time we wandered around town we were also struck by the number of alien pictures in shops and restaurants which seemed out of place, a little bit of research revealed that the area sits on a giant quartz plate which is believed to give off good energy and that these vibes together with a light emanating from it can be seen from outer space. Hence the alien theme.

All in all, it was great week with the cherry on top being when the owner of the campsite made enquiries on our behalf to see if we could get our COVID booster vaccines at the local clinic and then took us their and acted as interpreter for us.  Once again, a great example of the kindness of Brazilians.

Apart from the fact that we had needed some downtime from travelling the other reason we spent a whole week chilling was that Mr Jones had an appointment with a mechanic in the capital, Brasilia. Owning a Land Rover has its positives and negatives but one of its biggest positives is the community it creates, six weeks prior we had met a fellow called Clecio who had come out looking for us in Vitoria because his mates had spotted a foreign Landy in town.  Clecio is Brazilian and a landy fanatic who lives in Chicago USA but he had offered his help if we ever needed it, so when MR J started to need some work done which was more than a standard service Stuart got in contact and asked if he knew of any mechanics in the areas we were heading too.  He had arranged for us to visit Patrick, who we found out later is considered one of the foremost experts on the engine Mr J has, and so on Sunday we took a leisurely drive into Brazil capital in order to ensure we could be at Patricks workshop bright and early on the Monday.  When every time you need a mechanic, you are in a different location it is always a bit of gamble as to what you may get and usually Stuart prefers to hover around and observe the work but from the moment we arrived at the workshop we had a good feeling and happily left our home in Patrick’s hands as we headed off to an AirBnB for a few days.

The history of Brasilia is quite fascinating:  the concept of moving the capital to a central interior location was first proposed in the 19th century in order to lessen the economic and social reliance of the country on Rio de Janeiro but it was only in the 1950’s that construction actually started and then the central portion and all its infrastructure was built in an incredibly short 4 years.  At that stage it was designed as a city for the future, which meant all areas (office, residential and parks) were connected and divided by large free-flowing highways and interchanges.   Without a car over the next few days we can attest to how short that vision was in allowing freedom of movement on foot.  It is a very spacious city but in the some breath one that lacks intimacy, the parks are huge and largely lacking trees, the monuments are massive cold concrete structures and the roadways very busy but having said that it also seems like quite a calm city.  Our first impressions are therefore not a fair judgement to say if the vision of a city for the future was successful or not.

While Mr Jones was getting love and attention, we used our time to get many loads of laundry done, get haircuts, shop for body care items which you only find in bigger shopping malls and have a couple of meals out.  Tania will tell you, with a bit of drama, that one of these meals nearly cost her her life as Stuart/google maps made her cross three 4 lane highways in peak hour traffic with nor pedestrian crossings or traffic lights in sight – as we mentioned the city is not pedestrian friendly.

One reason we had wanted Mr Jones to spend time with a good mechanic is that he had been “drinking” coolant like we drink wine and in fact his usage had lately seemed to get worse.  With many “remote” kilometres ahead of us over the next months as we head south to Patagonia we had decided now was the time to get to the bottom of his addiction.  The issue has plagued us since just before leaving SA and Stuart’s worst fear was that it could be an internal issue (we are even carrying a full head gasket replacement set for this eventuality) so we were quite relieved when Patrick declared it was definitely not an internal issue and that after some changes of hose clamps to not be experiencing any pressure loss.

This was great news and meant that after two days in the shop we could collect him and now point his nose eastwards in the direction of the Pantanal.  Our excitement was relatively short lived as after a couple of days travel, the coolant levels started to drop again which meant a turnaround for a 500km drive back to Brasilia and the mechanic.  The coolant loss/usage was really starting to be a mystery as Mr J was running well and not overheating but there were no visible signs of leakage.  Even back at Patrick there was a lot of scratching of heads when after 2 hours of over-pressurizing the system no pressure had been lost and no leaks had appeared until eventually we spotted some small leaks at the bottom of the radiator.  While this meant another AirBnB stay while the radiator was repaired, it at least meant we had hopefully got to the bottom of the problem.

And that wraps up the month of August 2022

As usual below you can find links to other parts of the blog which complement the travel diary:

Gallery: Brazil’s interior savannah

Captain(s) Log: August 2022 (the highs and lows of life on the road)

Cost of Living analysis: Brazil – May – August 2022

Overview of the route travelled for the month

Practical Information: Brazil (Visas & extensions, obtaining a local SIM card, etc)

Maintenance Log

Having renewed our visas, (last month’s blog) and with effectively 4 months available to us to continue exploring Brazil we were exited to continue our northwards trek along the coastline towards the fabled state of Bahia.  When speaking of beautiful beaches almost all Brazilians have recommended Bahia to us.  All that lay between us and Bahia was the state of Espírito Santo and a mere 900km, we have mentioned it before but Brazil is HUGE.  Approximately half way across the state lies the city of Vitoria and so our plan was to break the journey with a stop there to carry out the usual monthly “admin” tasks such as laundry and paying for our internet data.

Unfortunately, at the same time, both of us started to not feel well, although thankfully not bad enough that we couldn’t spend many hours behind the wheel as we slowly worked our way northwards.   It still took us two days to reach Vitoria as the roads in this part of the world despite being main thoroughfares are usually single lane and busy with many trucks, who when an overtaking opportunity presents are just sufficiently slower than Mr Jones to be difficult to pass but when the road winds through long sections of hilly terrain then their speed drops to 30km/h or less and therefore so did ours!    Having traversed the city and its spectacular bridge which crosses the main bay and harbor, we were sitting in the queue at a very busy toll plaza when we had another classic “welcome to Brazil” moment – a random stranger paid our toll fees for us which we only discovered when we got to the toll booth !

Two days of travelling had done nothing to make us feel better and in fact, we were feeling worse with flu-like aches and pains and very scratchy throats, fearing that we may have Covid we did our best to limit contact with other campers and stayed put for 5 days until we were over the worst of it (or so we thought).  We suspect our excursion to watch the World Surf League competition in Saquerema and the crowded beach was the likely source of our woes.

Once we started to feel better and because based on elapsed time we should no longer be infectious (assuming it was Covid) we left the campground to carry out the “admin” tasks mentioned above. In hindsight we probably should have rested a few more days as undertaking a 10 hour day which includes doing multiple loads of laundry at a self-service outlet, shopping and then driving for 5 hours to sleep at a truck stop is probably not the wisest thing to do when still feeling a bit weak.   Admittedly the day was made longer by a lovely encounter we had with a fellow called Clecio who drove into the parking lot of the shops just as we were about to leave.   He is a Brazilian living in Chicago who was home for a holiday and most importantly is a Landy fanatic. Earlier in the morning some of his friends had told him that they had spotted a foreign plated Land Rover driving into town so he had come out in search of us, hoping to say Hello.  After what had been a frustrating morning, it was so lovely to have a chat in English while admiring each other’s vehicles – hopefully if we make it to the states one day we will meet-up again..

As with the other previous nights we have spent in a truck stop, we slept surprisingly well and woke in the morning feeling quite refreshed and ready to continue the journey northwards into Bahia. That feeling disappeared quite quickly when the first 150km took 3 hours to complete thanks to the many trucks and winding roads, sometimes we would be doing only 10km/h and other times desperately trying to seize an overtaking opportunity at 90km/h which is rapidly approaching Mr J’s top speed.  This pace continued throughout the morning so when we pulled off for lunch at the ubiquitous carvery style restaurants that can be found all along Brazil’s main arterial roads it was a quick decision to not try and squeeze an afternoon of driving from ourselves and rather seek out a place to rest up for a few days.  This sadly was not without its pain either, when Mr J had a temporary moment of refusing to start, only adding to our grouchy mood. At this point we were in southern Bahia but it was not living up to expectations: the beaches were very narrow; the sea was brown and it was windy.  We did however get to enjoy some dolphins playing in the water just in front of camp and spotted some whales far offshore.

After a day’s rest and feeling refreshed we decided to move on in search of the fabled beaches and blue water,  based on various sources it appeared that the little village of Transcosco would offer that with some highly rated beaches and a hippy/eco village vibe to the town.  Upon arrival it didn’t take long to turn us off when firstly the beaches all seemed difficult to reach, secondly when we did find a parking we got hassled by a drunk car guard wanting to charge upfront for parking in a public road and thirdly there was a lack of suitable camping options which didn’t require a likely 30minutes plus walk to get to the beaches. So without even looking at the beaches we made a bolt out of town in search of greener pastures (aka some blue water).  Along the way we did make a detour down a small dirt road to a beach which was in fact quite attractive although again the water was dirty but at least this time we could see the likely cause, a river/lagoon was pushing hard out to sea.  We drove away wondering if perhaps flooding rivers was the cause of all the brown water we had seen so far but as South Africans this didn’t make us anymore inclined to swim or surf,  as we are conditioned to be wary of sharks in “dirty” water, Brazilians however don’t seem to have the same concerns.

A couple of days later we found ourselves just south of Ilheus at a spot called Tahiti surf camp, the water was still brown but there were loads of surfers in the water as it fronts onto “Backdoor” which is supposedly one of Brazil’s better point breaks. So after a day of observation Stuart plucked up the courage and headed into the water.  Being a point break with a relatively narrow bay and quite a lot of rocks makes for an intimidating surf which combined with it being rather popular meant much time was spent sitting on the board versus actually catching waves but this was partly made up for by the occasional sighting of a turtle as it popped it’s head out of the water.

The vibe at the campsite was really pleasant, with such a lovely owner who we would have loved to be able to chat with and which made our lack of Portuguese all the more frustrating, nonetheless we spent a lovely week there and as an added bonus got in some much-needed rest.  In the meantime, we had learnt that the brown sea water is a seasonal thing and come summer time it is generally always a lovely translucent blue colour.  By the time we drove away we were starting to feel ourselves again and quietly hopeful that the fatigue from being sick was now well and truly behind us.

A short hop to the northern side of Ilheus brought us to a campsite called Paraiso which with its many palm trees and long open beach instantly made us feel like we could be back in Mozambique.  By this point Stuart had either got used to the brown water or accepted it and enjoyed a few board meetings, even paddling out on his lonesome for one session.

Paraiso was nice but not quite paradise so after 4 days we continued northwards to Itacare, where we did find clean water but not great surfing conditions.  All was not lost however as while we were standing checking out the surf, Tania heard a man talking English to his child and chirped “you speak English!”. This started a conversation that led into being invited to join his family for lunch.  Although American by birth, Michael is equal part Brazilian, as he is married to a Brazilian and is fluent in Portuguese having lived here for 15 years.  It was almost dark when our extended lunch come to an end and we still needed to find somewhere to spend the night but weren’t too concerned as at worst we knew a number of people had spent the night exactly where Mr Jones was parked, the only issue being the lack of toilets so we first headed off in search of an alternative.  Itacare is a very funky town with narrow cobbled streets, colourful building’s and a convoluted one-way system which meant we ended up circling around quite a bit as we found possible places to be either closed or not suitable.  Eventually with it already dark and about to give up and head back to the beach parking, we found a small pousada (small hotel/hostel) that accepted car camping in its parking lot and where able to just squeeze Mr Jones in.  The benefit of this spot was it was close to all the restaurants and night life, so after opening Mr Jones roof we went for a walk to explore and perhaps find something to eat although we weren’t that hungry considering the late lunch we had had earlier.  Initially none of the eateries appealed in the main section but as we wandered down a quieter side street we come across a Mexican restaurant with a very friendly owner who easily managed to entice us to sit down.  Apart from the lovely food they served he was also very proud of the fact that only the best Cachaca (a distilled spirit from sugarcane) was used in his caipirinha’s, even pouring us a sample to drink neat.  He was not wrong about the cachaca, it was smooth and almost buttery to the taste much to our surprise.

We debated staying longer in Itacare and if the camping setup had been more suitable probably would have, so after a short stroll around in the morning during which we twice had to seek out shelter from the tropical downpours that at this time of the year are a regular (almost hourly) occurrence we once again pointed Mr J in a northerly direction towards the Marau peninsula. 

The above-mentioned tropical downpours had turned the 60km road leading onto the peninsula into a mud fest of note but on the positive side we did find blue water there, as a large reef runs along this section of coast and creates almost one huge tidal pool.  With tranquil and clear water, it is very popular to snorkel in.  Our departure from the peninsula was an even muddier affair than our arrival and right towards the end of the dirt road we come across a long traffic jam of trucks at the base of a small hill.  Under normal circumstances such a small incline would almost not be noticed but the combination of the slippery red clay and a heavy load meant a large truck had slid sideways into the embankment and was busy being hauled out by a caterpillar grader.  It gave us flashbacks to a very long day we had had in Western Tanzania, although that time Mr Jones needed the assistance of the caterpillar to get past one bad section. Video of our Tanzania muddy adventure

At this point we were very close to Salvador, which is way further north than we ever thought we would get on this visit to Brazil, all that lay between us was the island of Ilha de Itaparica.  It is Brazil largest island and any google search will show pictures of lovely white sand and crystal clear blue water.  On the surface our campsite, with lovely grass underfoot and surrounded by palm trees, together with the location directly on a beach should have been paradise and a spot we could spend plenty of time at but as has been our experience for much of this 3rd month it just didn’t live up to its potential and so after just 2 days we moved on and caught the hour long ferry ride across the bay to Salvador.

The ferry’s docking coincided with lunchtime and Tania had read of a very cool Middle Eastern restaurant in downtown Salvador, so with the prospect of some different tastes and flavors we eagerly set off to find it.  Unfortunately, the restaurant was no longer in business but by the time we discovered this we had already struggled to find (and paid for) parking so we decided to take a wander around the area.  Something that has baffled us at almost every beach we have visited in over 6000km of coastline is the lack of public toilets, in South Africa almost every beach has them but so far in Brazil we have only found them along Copacabana in Rio de Janeiro.  This busy boulevard and beach in Salvador was no different and as we were both in desperate need of a loo we decided to find a restaurant to eat at and therefore gain access to a toilet.  Being lunchtime on a Sunday meant most establishments were extremely busy and not fancying trying to struggle with the language in a noisy environment we sought out a quieter spot which we found down a little alley off the main boulevard.  With the help of google translate and a lot of patience from the waitress we selected two traditional Bahia dishes, in Stuart’s case google kindly told us it was “shrimp drool”.

Salvador is famous for its Afro-Brazilian culture, the old town and its many colorful buildings and it had been our intention to visit this when there but perhaps it is because we are jaded from travel or from having felt “let down” a few times from visiting the so-called must see tourist attractions and combined with the fact that we had read a few reports of being harassed by touts and con artists we ultimately decided not to visit this area.  Instead we made good use of a rare morning when no tropical storms were forecast to chill on the beach and read our books.  We also made good use of easy access to a self-service laundry facility to catchup on clothes and linen washing. Of course, murphy did show his hand as we were making our way back to Mr J with clean and DRY laundry when a tropical downpour quickly blew in and drenched us.

Salvador brought up the end of 3 months in Brazil and with a long way to go back South to exit the country and many things to see in the interior our thoughts had begun to think about when to turn and were to go inland but first we decided to have one or two more beach stops.  Praia do Forte is only 80km from Salvador and a very popular holiday town, it is also a fairly well-known surfing town and so hoping for one last hoorah in the water we headed there. Normally the more popular holiday spots don’t appeal to us but both Itacare and Praia do Forte ticked many boxes and interestingly in both cases we camped in the parking areas of a pousada, in the latter however we had more space and therefore were able to spend a few days.  Unfortunately, Tania also started to feel ill again and was desperately hoping it wasn’t a reoccurrence of whatever had afflicted us earlier in the month, in the meantime Stuart took his surfboard for a long walk across town to see if he could find the surf break and duly returned a few hours later only having got sand between his toes.  It turns out the spot was very technical with a difficult entry and exit across a sharp reef at low tide and so having watched a number of locals gingerly pick their way across this, any temptation to surf quickly dissipated.  All was not lost though, as later that afternoon at high tide he spotted some guys in the water at a different spot and decided to give it a bash, the waves were average but this was made up for by being surrounded by turtles in the water.  At one point he counted 6 heads pop up at once.

On iOverlander we had eyed out a wild camp spot just north of Praia do Forte which we decided could be good for one or two nights before we turn inland, suspecting that there would be no surf their Stuart rather sadly packed away his boards for the last time until we probably reach Chile in 2023.  As it turned out we found it impossible to reach the spot as despite trying a number of different approaches we either ran into fences or rivers, however every cloud has a silver lining and, in this case, we found Porto de Sauipe which has a lovely big open beach (a rare commodity in this part of the world) and some surfing.  A few days of no rain were forecast so the surfboards were unpacked one last time and we even had to haul out our beach sunshade –  a first for us in South America.  As everyone knows,  weather forecasting is one of the few professions in which it is accepted that you get it wrong a great deal of the time, so after a couple of days the weather turned and with it so did we – it was time to head inland and see a different part of Brazil.

A note of reflection – this post may have sounded a bit negative in respect to the places we have visited or a bit pessimistic in respect to our outlook and if so it probably reflects our mood for the month and perhaps shows that as in “normal” life, when travelling full time not all months are “palm trees and white sandy beaches”.  Certainly, what didn’t help was being sick and feeling fatigued for most of the month, and of course the brown seawater!  We are assured that in the summer Bahia enjoys lovely blue water and in places like Salvador and the Marau peninsula we did get glimpses that this could be true.

As always, below you can find links to additional items which complement this post:

Gallery: Brazil Northeast coast (July 2022)

Captain(s) Log: July 2022 (the highs and lows of daily life on the road)

Cost of Living analysis: Brazil – May, June & July 2022

Overview of our routing

Maintenance Log

After a thoroughly enjoyable carnival experience we left the following morning in search of magical beaches and hopefully a little bit of surf.  The island of Ilabhela is divided by a fairly high mountain range which means the east coast beaches are typically only accessible by boat or long hikes through the jungle, there is however one beach, Castelhanos, which can be accessed by a 4wd vehicle.  The drive is absolutely spectacular, even if views are limited due to the jungle, as it climbs to well over 500m asl and descends the same again in the space of 15 kilometers. Images of being Robinson Crusoe for a few days are easily invoked when just after cresting the summit there is break in the jungle vegetation and you get a brief view of the beach tucked away in a big bay and totally surrounded by rainforest.

The reality is slightly different when you do reach the beach, at least for the daylight hours between 10:00 – 15:00.  The remoteness, adventure of getting there and picturesque nature of the bay make Castelhanos an ideal adventure tourism destination and means that everyday large groups of tourists arrive, either having been shuttled in over the said mountain pass or having come around the island on a boat tour, to enjoy lunch and Caipirinhas at the few restaurants on the beach which are operated by the local villagers. Once the day tourists had left we got to witness the more authentic side of life in the bay, including one young lady receiving driving lessons from her dad on the beach. Her learning curve was going to be steep, both literally and figuratively, as apart from the beach sand between the low and high tide marks the only other possible driving opportunity is the above-mentioned 4wd pass.

The second event that quickly shattered our ideas of pretending to be Robinson Crusoe for a few days was a little guy known as a borrachudo!   Unbeknown to us, Ilhabela is as famous for its scenery as it is for these little black flies which you only detect after they have bitten you and left a very itchy and swollen red mark, Stuart managed to initially avoid them by going surfing whereas they sneakily bit Tania while she sat on the beach.  The best solution to avoid being bitten, is citronella lotion and there is even a brand named “CitroIlha”.

When we had passed through the checkpoint at the start of the pass the guard had enquired how long we would stay in Castelhanos and as is usual our answer was “we don’t know but probably a few days”, however that evening  while we did our best to not scratch the bites it was a very easy decision to decide to leave the next day, the problem being you are not allowed to depart Castelhanos until 15:00 in the afternoon.   The reason for this is that because of the steep and narrow nature of the pass directional flow is regulated for safety. Not too many things scare us but 8 hours of daylight ahead and the accompanying borrachudos certainly had us anxious that night.

After driving over the pass we arrived just in time for “rush hour” on the ferry, the crossing to Ilabhela a week prior had been very rough due to the storm system around at the time, thankfully the channel and therefore crossing was much smoother this time and we could sit and relax with the windows down. In a country were not many people automatically speak English or are comfortable too, we have been quite surprised how many ferry workers do and on this ferry crossing, we once again experienced that.  With the vehicles all loaded and the ferry underway we were approached by one who started talking to us and then translating the conversation to the foot, bicycle and scooter riding passengers who were jam packed around us.  As the ferry docked on the mainland, one of these “listeners in” gestured to us from his scooter and then proceeded to hand over a very large bag of banana’s as a gift to ourselves. It was very frustrating to only be able to smile and say “muito obrigado” (thank you very much), especially when we realised he had given us all of his bananas and was now driving off with none!  Such kind gestures typify how welcome we have been made to feel in Brazil.

Hoping that we had put the barrachudos behind us we found a nice little campsite just before Ubatuba which had direct access to the beach, some waves and what appeared to be a nice chilled surfing culture.  Between stilted conversations with other campers and being able to people watch when the weekend rolled around we got to just enjoy and soak up everyday life for your average Brazilian and once again, can say we absolutely love it.  If it had not been for a patch of bad weather rolling in, our 5-day stay could easily have become 10.

Anyhow we had everyday chores to complete, like shopping, visiting a laundromat, paying for our cellphone data and getting a haircut for Tania.  Admin days like this are at present rather exhausting, for two simple but probably often underestimated reasons: firstly we are always carrying out these tasks in a new city with which we are not familiar and so most things are a struggle to find and then secondly you have to do everything in a language with which you have a grasp of about 5 key phrases, so a simple task like operating the self-help washing machine or tumble dryer becomes a major exercise in translation on the phone and is typically a two person job.  Thankfully our next stop, Itamambuca, was not too far out of town.

Itamambuca is a very funky little eco village with what appears to be a huge surfing culture, the bad weather had however arrived and with it some thumping swell and so not being familiar with the wave, Stuart took the cautious decision to stay out of the water. 

At this point in the journey we were getting close to Rio de Janeiro and were trying to figure out the logistics of how to manage a visit to the famous city.  We absolutely love the independence that Mr Jones gives us, together with the ability to visit places which are off the beaten tourist track but he does complicate life when you want to visit a big city in which there are naturally limited camping or even safe long-term parking options for a tall vehicle like him. An additional stress we were feeling was that practically every Brazilian we had met so far had warned us of the dangers of Rio and how careful you had to be driving there, in order to avoid the favelas and so forth.  Adding to the complexity was that the weather forecasts did not look great and we didn’t want to be visiting the iconic tourist landmarks of Christ the Redeemer and Sugarloaf when it was going to be wet and cloudy.  

And so we found ourselves stalling and killing time with not much to do in little places like Paraty, and ultimately getting frustrated.  On the positive side: this did allow us to do a bit more research into Rio in terms of where we could park Mr J, reasonably priced hotels and tour options for the main tourist attractions. When a reasonable weather window appeared to open up for a few days we were able to move quickly and drove into Barra da Tijuca which is suburb on the outskirts of Rio de Janeiro.   Based on our research we were hoping to leave Mr Jones at a camping spot called Fritz House while we stayed overnight in a hotel in Rio, however what no amount of research can tell you, is how difficult it was going to be to find Fritz House. All the apps we use showed the location to be the same but upon arrival there was just a small wooden pedestrian door through which Mr Jones would clearly not fit and no signage to indicate this was in fact the spot.  Having consulted our various sources of information (iOverlander, Google, Google maps, bookings.com, etc) we were left none the wiser in terms of a different address or contact details.  For the next hour or more we drove around and around the neighborhood, which happens to be on the side of a mountain, so in other words up and down some very steep roads much to Mr Jones disgust and our frustration! Just as we were about to give up we passed a gate (which had previously been closed) and spotted a camper van inside!  

At the last minute the following morning we changed our mind with regards taking the metro into town when we realised an Uber would cost only marginally more and eliminate quite some hassle (and risk of being robbed – even Fritz had warned us of the “dangers” in Copacabana) and so took a very easy commute into our hotel in Copacabana.  During the drive, first impressions with regards the dangers were quite the opposite as our driver had both front windows open and his phone in a cradle on the dash and we observed many people happily walking along the sidewalks chatting on their smartphones.

Having dropped our overnight daypack at the hotel we immediately hit the Copacabana promenade to take in the sights and again were pleasantly surprised, not only because of the environment but also by how cheap the Caipirinhas at the little beachfront kiosks/restaurants appeared to be.  They were nearly half the price of ones we had seen further south in far less touristy areas and so being doubting Thomas’s we thought that there had to be a catch like maybe there was no cachaca in them… Therefore when we saw a spot offering well priced plates of fried chips (our favorite beach side snack/lunch) and caipirinhas we had to stop and try.  Needless to say our doubts were baseless, so much so that we stopped back at the same kiosk later in the afternoon for another “quality check”.

We had booked a full day city tour that would allow us to see and tick-off all the must see sights and so the next morning was an early start for us as the tour operator only offered hotel pickups at certain hotels in the area, we had chosen one close to ours but still wanted to make sure we got there in advance of the designated time.  The walk went quicker than planned and so when we arrived with 30 minutes to spare we decided to take a short stroll around the neighborhood which turned out to be a fateful move as the bus driver, unbeknown to us arrived and left in the 20 minutes we were gone.  In the meantime, we were back standing on the street corner and getting more and more nervous that we had been conned as the minutes past the designated pickup time ticked over.  Eventually Stuart managed to get hold of the tour company and after a very heated exchange they offered to accommodate us on the following days tour, this was far from ideal as we had only booked a hotel for two nights and would mean we we would only finish early on the 3rd evening but thankfully as Mr J was only a relatively short Uber ride out of the city we figured we could return straight to him from the tour.

All clouds have a silver lining and, in this case, it allowed us another “free” day which we could use up for taking in sights like the Copacabana fort and Ipanema beach.  In addition, the weather had become quite cloudy which may have meant both Christ the Redeemer and Sugarloaf would have been shrouded in cloud and so not ideal for visiting whereas the next day had much better weather.

The following day, thankfully the pickup went as planned and we were able to join the “selfie taking” masses as we got shuttled from one attraction to the next.  Over the course of 9 hours we got to see: Rio Cathedral, Estrada steps, Macarena stadium, Carnival boulevard, Christ the Redeemer and Sugar Loaf.   We are glad “we have been there and done that” but in the end feel like we have had more authentic experiences seeing the carnival on IlhaBela and the mosaic artwork near Sao Francisco Sul, to name a couple.

Our final stop at Sugar Loaf mountain gave us a great view of an encroaching storm, and the accompanying winds made the cable car descent interesting, and by the time we had been dropped back in Copacabana it was dark and raining heavily.  A few more anxious moments followed as we tried to get an Uber and the first four cancelled on us (probably because we were heading out of the city and away from their main business), so we were very relieved when the 5th driver accepted. Our relief was short lived however as the car was a proper skedonk (South African slang for a beat up old car), with a fuel gauge showing empty, windscreen wipers that hardly worked, lights that were candles and a serious grating of metal if the driver selected first gear which he naturally tried to avoid. Knowing that our destination was halfway up a mountain and fairly far away, we both subconsciously voiced concerns to each other about whether we would be getting home to Mr Jones that night, thankfully however we did.

Before we fled the big city, we had one more set of tasks to take care of, shopping for slightly high-end personal care items from “The Body Shop” and so forth together with a general stock up of freezer items which we had run down in anticipation of spending time away from Mr Jones.

The much feared, drive through Rio de Janeiro and northwards turned into a non-event, partly because we hit the road quite early on a Sunday and also because the combination of our GPS and Google maps running simultaneously meant we did not take any wrong turns and end up in a favella. Our destination for the day was 200km north, in a little spot called Arraial do Cabo which we had read was nicknamed the Caribbean of Rio state thanks to its white sand and crystal clear blue water.

Just as there is no common standard electrical plug type around the world, there is no common valve or thread size for LPG gas bottles.  It seems that there are even more variations for gas than there are for plug types, we were expecting this and had come as much prepared as possible.  Firstly, we have two bottles, to buy time for finding a place that can fill the main bottle and secondly, we have a bag full of potential adapters. When we first arrived in Uruguay we were very lucky as one of the adapters suited their thread type and the first place we tried filled gas and not only swopped bottles, so we quietly hoped that it could be as easy when our main bottle ran out here in Brazil.  After a day a day of driving around to multiple gas bottle depots and then hardware stores to see if they would fill or we could buy a suitable adapter Stuart eventually accepted defeat and purchased a Brazilian 5kg bottle and regulator, hoping that as it is a different shape to the South African one that we could, with some adaption, still fit it on to Mr Jones existing gas bottle bracket.

Our running around for gas had in the meantime brought us closer to the town of Buzios which Stuart had read had some decent surfing, unfortunately the camping was a rather long walk from the beach and also not that great so we decided on only one night.   Stuart got absolutely hammered as the waves were big and heavy when we arrived, thankfully the next day produced milder conditions and so we spent a lovely day on the beach before heading back to Arrial do Cabo.

In our nearly two months in Brazil this has been the first time we have “backtracked” on our route and headed South instead of North.  The reason was twofold, firstly by chance we had learnt that the next stage of the World Surf League Championship tour (WSL) would be taking place nearby and South Africa had two surfers who would be competing so we figured it would be fun to witness and also wave the flag in support.  The second reason was, that the time when we could apply for an extension on our visa was drawing near and Tania’s research showed you could do this at the local airport in Cabo Frio which was far more appealing than attempting it in a big city as we had done a month prior in Santos.

While we waited for the WSL event we made the most of the white sands and good weather n Arraial do Cabo, including pumping up our StandUp Paddle board (SUP) and making a trip to a nearby island.  After a fun paddle we chilled on the beach for a while and were just getting ready to carry the SUP back to camp for lunch when there was this massive BOOM and the SUP flew over our heads – it had delaminated at one of the seams and rapidly deflated.  It’s doubtful that it is repairable but for now we have put in back in the roof box and will keep our eyes open for places that repair the large inflatable power boats.

A couple of days prior to the start of the surfing competition we headed down to Saquarema hoping against hope that we would find somewhere to camp as we had read that 40 000 people descend on the little town each day and that most accommodation is booked up months in advance.  In addition, we had only been able to identify, online, two possible camping sites, both of which were very small.  Luckily for us, a new one was in the process of being developed which we passed as we drove in and they didn’t have a booking system running so had no idea at that stage how many people might come so we quickly secured a spot for the week.  The only challenge was they only had 100v electricity whereas we need 220v for our battery charger and the site was very shady but with some careful positioning we placed Mr Jones so that he would get at least 6 hours of sun each day, which we hoped would be adequate for our solar panels to keep the fridge battery charged.

We set an alarm (a rarity for us these days) on the morning of the first day of the competition so that we could get down to the beach in time for what we believed was the start time and not miss the first South African who was scheduled in one of the earlier heats. As it turned out we needn’t have been such eager beavers as the beach was practically deserted at that time and also the women heats take place first but it did mean we could secure prime positions right in front of the athletes change room and so could proudly display the flag as they exited for their heats. This we repeated for two days.

Each day the crowds swelled in size throughout the morning until there was literally no room between the incoming water and people which made for some amusing sights when a larger wave would roll up. Sadly, our boys didn’t do so well with only one of them getting through to the last 16 but it was a fun couple of days and incredible to observe the passion and feel the energy from the crowd when a Brazilian was surfing. 

It would appear we like to attend big and fun events at the end of each month we have spent in Brazil, last month it was the Carnival on Ilabhela island and this month the WSL event, it also meant that we were now in the window period that is allowed for requesting an extension of our tourist visa. So, with Saqaurema in our rear view mirror we popped back up to Arrial do Cabo, unlike last month when we tried to do it too early this time it was a piece of cake and within a few hours had been granted, which means we can stay in Brazil for a total of 6 months if we want. If our experiences of the first two months are any indication to go by, it is going to be a great further 4!

As always, below you can find links to additional items which complement this post:

Gallery: Brazil (June 2022)

Captain(s) Log: June 2022 (The highs and lows of life on the road)

Captain(s) Log: May 2022 (The highs and lows of life on the road)

Cost of Living analysis: Brazil – May & June 2022

Practical Information: Brazil (Visas & extensions, obtaining a local SIM card, etc)

Maintenance Log

Our first South American border crossing at Chuy (northern Uruguay) into Brazil was quite possibly the easiest we have ever had.  It is an interesting border crossing from the perspective that the town of Chuy sits in “no mans land” and enjoys a tax free status, so both Uruguayans and Brazilians travel there for cheap shopping and in doing so don’t actually pass through the border controls.    We of course need to ensure we got an exit stamp from Uruguay together with the cancellation of Mr Jones temporary import permit and then to obtain the opposite in Brazil.   The time taken for this was probably only 15 minutes or so, although Tania would have probably preferred the Brazilian side to take longer due to the customs officers “eye candy”…

Approximately 100km into Brazil the road passes through a nature area where it is possible to see the Capybara animal.  To describe a Capybara, you can either use our “HippySquared” analysis which says it’s like a Rock Hycinth/dassie on super steroid’s or a more official version which says it’s the largest rodent found in South America.  And they are large, roughly the size of teenage pig!

So we were cruising slowly, i.e. within the 60km speed limit applicable for this stretch,  keeping our eyes open and attempting to spot these oversized rodents all while being overtaken by every other vehicle and truck on the road, when up ahead we saw a small laybye and what looked like Capybara in the water below so we pulled over.  Also in the laybye was a Volkswagen Beetle (fusca in Portuguese) with a “half beetle” trailer attached.  

When we stopped we noticed that the bonnet was open on the fusca and so being Land Rover owners who by necessity always “pay it forward” for that just in case future moment we naturally asked if they had broken down and needed help, which fortunately they hadn’t nor did they need help.  We did however get chatting and found kindred spirits, them interested in our journey and us learning that that very fusca and trailer had been many places including Moscow for the 2018 soccer World Cup. Before we drove off contact details were swapped and an invitation received to visit them at their house in Pelotas,  if we passed that way in the next week.

Our small attempt at paying it forward, most definitely paid huge dividends over the next 48 hours.  Firstly because they were able to assist us in getting a local SIM card for our cellphone which without their assistance may otherwise have been impossible due to Brazil’s requirements for registering these.  And secondly as our initial attempts at getting a SIM card had failed, we were incredibly fortunate to find their house based on a WhatsApp pin drop which naturally requires data/Wi-Fi when navigating and of which we had none!  Along the way we did one more good deed by helping to extract a car that had reversed into a ditch – paying it forward for next time.

With no cell signal and therefore limited Google translate the entire recovery was made with hand signals as can be seen in this video

Nauro, Gabi & Sophia made us feel like family and as mentioned were invaluable in sorting us out with a SIM card so when Gabi asked if we could give a talk at Sophia school regarding our journey, it was a wonderful opportunity to return the favour and possibly give some teenagers an alternative view of the meaning of success. What followed was another unique and fun experience which we won’t be forgetting anytime soon.

It would have been easy to stay an extra night after the school talk, as we are sure, there were some of their friends we were yet to meet, but Brazil is huge and we have limited visa time so after the school talk we made a hasty exit.  Hasty because there was a weather warning out for a severe storm system developing and as we drove out of town, it looked like Armageddon was approaching in the rear view mirrors with huge dark clouds covering the sky and a massive tailwind to push Mr Jones along.

Over the course of the next few days we wandered northwards and slightly inland, trying to keep ahead of the storm although it caught up with us most evenings which meant a few nights of cooking and chilling inside instead of being outside as we prefer.  The inland section in this southern most state of Brazil is dominated by a mountain range which rises to 1000m within roughly 100km of the coast so apart from having many spectacular roads it is also incredibly lush and wet.  We had been told that the town of Gramada  and it’s surrounding areas was very pretty and styled along a Swiss mountain ski village.  It didn’t disappoint in terms of description or in the fact that, just as for a fancy ski village, it was very touristy and full of beautiful people competing for selfies in front of the various attractions. We stopped, took the obligatory photos and then moved on as Mr Jones (plus ourselves or at least Stuart in his shorts) looked quite out of place.

Leaving Gramada we drove the back roads along the high Plateau toward Cambara do Sul, where we made a spontaneous decision to visit the Fortalesa  Canyon.  The views across the canyon and edge of escarpment are quite spectacular but somehow we were more entranced by the little things like a pretty little cascade.  The detour meant it would be a hard push to get to the spot we had in mind for an overnight stay so instead we pulled off the road at the top of a pass which heads back down to the lowlands and spent a peaceful night camped behind some bushes and hidden by the swirling mist. This pass is dirt and sees practically no traffic after dark so we probably didn’t have anything to worry about but we felt better being hidden and slept really well.

As we were enjoying the scenery and spectacular roads, we decided to descend from our overnight spot, skirt along the bottom of the mountain range and then ascend another pass, the spectacular Serra da Rocinha,  before seeking out an overnight camp spot.  This was not our best decision as the GPS led us along some interesting tracks at the bottom of the mountain, to the point were we were convinced there was no way through but not wanting to do an extensive backtrack we persisted as the track got narrower and narrower but thankfully did eventually pop out of the forest near the tar road at the bottom of the Serra da Rocinha pass. This is a spectacular tar pass but sadly is still a work in progress which we discovered near the top when the tar ends and there is a boom across the track ahead.  Patiently parked in front of the boom were a couple of local cars, so we figured that perhaps the next section was an alternating one way track and we joined the group but after 30 minutes of no action and with rain clouds rapidly moving in, Stuart hopped out and with the help of google translate attempted to discover if and/or when the road would open.  The resulting answers probably got lost in translation but it was either going to be in 3 hours or at 15:00 and also the rain possibly would influence this opening.  So being none the wiser for asking and not sure what awaited on the other side, a quick decision was made to head back to the lowlands and rather find a camp spot towards the coast.

The decision to head towards the coast was a good one, as it turned out that a weather warning had been issued for severe rain over the next few days so being up in the highlands would have been a wet and miserable affair.  Fortunately for us the campsite we found had an indoor lounge area in which we could relax and when bored play with the very cute puppy that lived there.  Stuart did manage to sneak in one quick surf before the rains arrived and thus log his first “Brazilian board meeting” of the trip.

When the rain started to ease up, but with the seas still a mess from the storm, we took the opportunity to head north to Florianopolis and the famed island of Santa Catarina. Ilha Santa Catarina is a popular tourist destination and renowned for it’s beaches and scenery,  we however were not that awed by it. This may be because it is better suited to tourists of the rich and famous or wannabe famous kind who are there to throw money around for a lounger on the beach and a day of expensive cocktails followed by expensive dinners in order to be instagram worthy rather than independent travellers in an old Landrover.  The number of “multi-story” motor yacht parking facilities we passed was staggering and we can only imagine that in the summer time the island must heave with pretentiousness.  

In our quest to find a nice sandy beach to chill on and ideally surf from, we moved off the island and up the coast to Porto Belo and the peninsula of Bambinhos.  It was another spectacular day of narrow twisting roads, interspersed with small coves and beaches but we struggled to find somewhere that tickled our fancy or we felt was suitable for us to stop and spend a few nights in Mr Jones.  A common practise for many travellers is to overnight in a side street or in the beach parking lot, this they can do because they usually have a van setup of some sort and so are perhaps slightly inconspicuous whereas when we lift Mr Jones roof he makes quite the statement of “hello I am here to sleep”.  Eventually, feeling more than a little frustrated with our lack of success we pulled into what can best be described as an RV parking lot and desperately hoped that our neighbours to be did not snore.

In respect to access to the beach and promenade this parking lot was fantastic as it was right on it, but it did leave us feeling liking zoo animals as Mr Jones drew attention and more than one evening stroller may have gone home that night with a crick in their neck.  On the positive side, many people did stop to interact and apart from continuing to be amazed at the general friendliness of Brazilians we did get to improve our pronunciation of “Desculpe, eu não falo português” (Sorry, we don’t speak Portuguese).

Thankfully our neighbours did not snore and we woke up feeling quite refreshed and ready for another day of seeking out “our kind of” beach and so made a short one hour hop further north to a little village called  Estalareinho. The beach was exactly what we had been looking for, relatively wide open sandy sections to lie on,  sandwiched in a bay which on both ends was bookended by spectacular hills.  The only downside was there were no waves for surfing but it was a place we felt we could stay a while and rest after many days of continuous movement.

Leaving Estalareinho we continued to be amazed by the spectacular scenery and roads as we wound our up and around various headlands, all blanketed in dense rain forest, on our way to Ipapepa and then further north via a ferry or two to Sao Francisco.  Here we discovered a surfing spot (Prainha) within walking distance from the campsite that had some appealing waves.  The camp attendant was both fascinated with Mr Jones and Africa so over the course of the next couple of days we alternated between long winded google translate conversations explaining Africa and then taking time out for some surfing and time in the sun.  As an added bonus, a surf photographer caught some nice shots of Stuart in the water.

Next door to the campground was a small soccer field whose dedicated caretaker not only maintained the field and surrounding access road but had also over the years built an incredible garden with a variety of mosaic artworks, as can be seen in the below video. Each evening he would come down, put out a speaker and pump out the music (anything from eighties pop to classical) while setting about maintaining the surrounding environment, his dedication was truly inspirational.  

We had learnt from some fellow campers in the campground of a spectacular road called the “Estrada da Graciosa” which is an ancient cobblestone road that climbs from sea level to 900m in only 13km and as we anyhow had to divert inland due to an impassable coastal section we chose to take this scenic route.   We chose to drive over it on a Sunday, which meant it was very busy with local tourists out enjoying the route whether it was via bicycle, motorbike or car and  there was quite a party atmosphere at the top which was once again a reminder of how Brazilians always seem to have a joy for life.

That evening we pulled into a large gas station and truck stop for our first experience of Brazilian gas station camping.  The one we had chosen was very large and also catered to the long distance busses, this meant there was a very large cafeteria where you pay for your food by weight and bathrooms with showers.  We tucked ourselves around the back, slightly away from the main truck parking and settled in for what turned out to be a surprisingly restful evening.         

Over the course of the next couple of days we covered the distance to Santos which is on the coast next to Sao Paulo, Mr Jones had overnighted in the port of Santos while on the RORO from South Africa but we did not stop here as a trip down memory lane for him but rather as we were hoping to extend our 90 day visa to 180 days. Based on the information we had from iOverlander there was an office here at a military base where you could do this which is how we found ourselves driving up to a heavily guarded airforce base and the bemused looks of the guards on duty.   While struggling to use our phone to translate why two foreigners in a strange Land Rover with the steering wheel on the wrong side wanted entry to the base, one of the guards realised we spoke English and interrupted our pained efforts with “you speak English?”. What followed was another fantastic experience we wont easily forget, we got directed through the security barricades and were then assisted by the English speaking guard and his Captain as they tried to find out where in fact we needed to go.  With new directions in hand we headed off for another ferry crossing and then a traverse of Santos to the Policia Federal offices, sadly though our efforts failed – simply because we had been eager beavers and tried to extend the visa too early.  We shall have to try again in 40 or so days time.

By now we were both pretty tired from the many days of constant movement and really needing to find a spot were we could stop and chill for a few days, the coastline north of Santos is littered with little coves all of which had the potential for a lengthy stay but sadly there were either no real camping options and when there were, they were either closed or ridiculously priced. After another long day in the car we finally ended up parked opposite a skate park in the town of Sao Sebastiao. The good thing with this location was that there were other squatters like us and it was only 200m from a police station so seemed like it should be safe. The other “squatters” were all in vans or Kombis so far more inconspicuous than Mr Jones and being still newbies at this urban wild camping thing we were quite nervous that the police would in fact move us along but when they had driven past for the 3rd time without even pausing we relaxed and once again slept surprisingly well.

Despite a relatively good nights sleep our sense of humour quickly left us the following morning when we woke to wet and cold weather and a failed linear actuator!  The actuators are a recent new addition to Mr Jones and have been a game changer in terms of opening and closing the roof in that they make light work of a very heavy roof but with the one now stuck in the up position we could not close the roof, eventually Stuart cut the wires to it and unbolted it from the brackets so  that it was not obstructing the roof movement. 

With the roof finally closed, the goal for the day become to simply find a campsite were we could stop for a few days and rest.  Thankfully just across the channel in front of our overnight parking was the island of Ilabhela which appeared to have a few good options for just that, all that stood in our way was a rough ferry crossing which before we could board required the hiding of our gas bottle inside Mr Jones – not our idea but rather that of the ferry payment clerk in order to avoid waiting for a dangerous goods ferry…

Over the course of the next few days, we remained stationary, the sun come out and we enjoyed sundowners on the beach below camp and in the process we regained our joy for travelling  and Brazil.  As an added bonus after dismantling the actuator motor, drying it out and applying new grease, it worked perfectly and was re-installed.

When we had disembarked from the ferry we had seen signs advertising a Carnival and after a little bit of research discovered it was taking place in the historical town district of the island and that there was a small camping/parking area within walking distance.  The carnival was relatively small and not touristy in any manner but nonetheless it was quite the spectacle (as can be seen in this video) and a perfect end to our first month in Brazil.  

Below are links to various other pages “supporting” this chapter in our life:

Overnight stops / our route

Gallery: Brazil (May 2022)

Captain(s) Log: May 2022 The highs and lows of life on the road

Cost of Living analysis: Brazil May 2022

Feeling invigorated after having made the decision to “travel” a little bit by going to Mozambique, we headed up the Natal South coast with a tail wind for a change and so were able to stop in Ballito before lunch for some shopping (mostly wine as it is prohibitively expensive in Moz) and to purchase the required Mozambique 3rd party insurance for Mr Jones. With tasks divided, Tania headed off for the shopping and Stuart to purchase insurance.  After having purchased insurance Stuart was wandering back towards Mr Jones and looking for Tania in various shops when he spotted a person with a big great white beard peering inside Mr Jones and taking pictures. It took a moment to realise that the newest member of Mr Jones fan club was none other than the great African explorer, Kingsley Holgate!  If you are unsure who he is, check this Wikipedia link .  Unfortunately, Stuart was too slow to get across the car park and greet him, it would have been wonderful to grab a selfie with such a well known Land Rover fanatic…

The following day after a hassle-free drive further up the Natal coast we crossed into Mozambique and experienced two new firsts for us.  The first one being, passing through the tiny Kosi bay border post which was by far our easiest entry into Mozambique, ever, and the second taking our first Covid test.  It is hard to believe that despite all the moving around, within SA, that we have done since the start of the pandemic and therefore in theory being higher risk this is the first PCR test we have taken in 23 months.  Thankfully we both “failed”, i.e. tested negative.

The closest town to the border and a very popular one with South Africans as a holiday destination is Ponta de Oura, we however were not that impressed by the vibe and the campsite was part of the main thoroughfare to the beach so we quickly moved on to a smaller village a little further up the coast called Ponta Malongane. The campsite there is huge but right next to the beach and has many trees and coastal forest which both makes you feel closer to nature and also provides shelter from the wind and sun, we immediately felt very relaxed.  We rounded off a very good day with a swim and some fun body surfing in the crystal-clear water just in front of camp, although we did have to curtail the fun as Mozambique has a rather strange Covid regulation in place that requires everyone to be off the beaches by 4pm.

Every country in the world at some time or another has implemented a regulation to manage the pandemic that probably didn’t make much sense but we are firm believers that if you are a visitor to a country or region then you should abide by the rules and/or customs of that area and thereby respect (and perhaps help protect) the very people you are visiting.  We were thus left gob smacked when over the course of the next two days we had conversations with 2 different sets of traveler’s from Europe who openly told us of their disdain for Covid regulations in general and in the second case how for all the borders they had crossed in Southern Africa that they forged their PCR tests certificates. In the case of the latter we calculated they had probably spent in excess of USD10k renting the 4wd they were travelling in but justified their forgery based on the cost and futility of the PCR test!

After a couple of pleasant days at Ponta Malongane, we pointed Mr Jones northward for the relatively longish trek (650km), to our favorite beach in Mozambique: Tofo.  This included a first for us, crossing the spectacular, 3km long, Maputo – Katembe suspension bridge and then a traverse through Maputo proper.  A couple of quick stops were made in Maputo to draw money and source a local SIM card.  In South Africa, even we can do 650km in a single day in Mr Jones if we want too, due to the good roads and ability to maintain a relatively high average speed but in Mozambique the main road north passes through many villages and in each one the speed limit drops to 60km/h so it is far more practical to split such a distance over two days which is exactly what we did.  A late afternoon arrival at Sunset beach, saw us enjoying sundowner R&R’s (Rum & Raspberry) on the deck overlooking the Indian ocean.

An early start the following morning saw us in Tofo before lunch where we were pleasantly surprised to find that Fatima’s Backpackers was still operational.  It was time to settle in for what we hoped would be a very pleasant 3 weeks of a simple routine: wander onto the beach after breakfast for some sun & surf, then on our way back to camp passing through the local fresh produce market for some fresh pau (bread rolls) and vegetables or fruit for lunch.  In the afternoon rinsing and repeating, if we felt like it or just chilling by Mr Jones.   The only thing we wouldn’t be able to totally enjoy was the spectacular sunset Tofo beach enjoys, thanks to the 4pm curfew but that was a small price to pay for being in paradise. It was quite amusing to watch how each day at 4pm a relatively large contingent of police would arrive on the beach to blow their whistles and shepherd the surfers and beachgoers out of the water and off the sand.

We did have one concern, a large cyclone was developing off the coast of Madagascar and heading towards the Mozambique Channel, sometimes these cyclones make it down to the Tofo/Inhambane area with devastating results but the forecasts seem to show it would stay offshore which we were obviously holding thumbs for.

Day 3 in Tofo was Tania birthday and we were really looking forward to an evening out at an exquisite little Japanese restaurant called Sumi which just so happens to be run by a school friend of Tania’s and his Japanese wife.  Their food is divine and that alone would have made for a great birthday but then an even better birthday present arrived, in the form of an email from a shipping agent to say that there was a RORO vessel to South America calling in Durban during the first week of March with space for Mr Jones and were we interested?   It felt poetic that in the country were 14 years prior, we had come up with the idea to travel the world by vehicle and where we had in fact started the journey in 2019,  we finally got news that our plans could get back on track.

In the campsite with us was a German couple, Ruth & Jeurgen, who were currently winding down their time in Africa but had 10 years prior travelled South America and we really enjoyed receiving some first-hand information on South America even if it was a little dated.  They were also very keen to do an ocean safari which is something we have always thought we should do but in all our visits hadn’t, so we agreed to accompany them on one and help to make up the minimum numbers required. Unfortunately, though while the cyclone had stayed far offshore it was still creating very rough seas and so Ruth & Juergen kept having to extend their stay while waiting for a suitable day.  In the end the wait was well worth it as we had a couple of fantastic hours out on the ocean getting to snorkel with a couple of Whale sharks and Giant Manta rays.

This video captures some of the snorkelling action

After just 10 days in Tofo we started the journey back to Durban having decided to rather get back early and have plenty of time to prepare everything for the shipment rather than be stressed and short of time, we were both super excited and nervous at the same time.

The decision to get back early was a very good one although it didn’t save us from the stress.  The first major moment of stress was when Stuart was about to do a final service and discovered a major oil leak down the side of the engine block, thankfully it turned out to be not too serious and only required the changing of an exhaust manifold gasket.

Our second big stress come in the form of the shipping agents.  We had gathered from a number of sources that shipping an overland vehicle is never easy and rarely smooth sailing but were not prepared for what in our opinion amounted to incompetence and arrogance: almost every important communication or document had errors on it, the submission to customs was done wrong  and without our approval (and only corrected when we pointed this out), we were given incorrect information about timing of customs inspections and when delivery to the port would be made, etc, etc.   With only 24 hours until the vessel was due to depart Durban and a critical customs inspection still not scheduled, it appeared next to impossible that we would make the shipment and so we set about cancelling airline tickets and losing our cool with the shipping agent. Somehow 12 hours later we got the news Stuart could take Mr Jones to the port and that all was on track.

We always expected the shipment process to be stressful (simply because Mr Jones is our house and “everything”) but we never anticipated it being as bad as it was. It is not an experience we want to put ourselves through anytime soon but hopefully we have learnt some valuable lessons as to what to watch out for and demand,  when we next ship Mr Jones across an ocean.  The Captain(s) logs (at the bottom of this post) for February and March give more detailed insight into our emotions and frustrations during this time.

Only once we got news that the vessel had actually sailed with Mr Jones tucked into its bowels did we set about re-booking tickets and getting excited about the adventure being underway.  The fun and games though were not over yet, as we ran into one more bureaucratic hurdle at the airport.  Our research had not indicated that Argentina required a return airline ticket for entry as a tourist but as we were to find out, the airlines do, in order to cover their backsides in case the country customs request it upon arrival.  We had only booked a one-way ticket as when we do fly from South America it most likely will be from an entirely different country and most definitely after the visa period for the country we were flying too had expired (we will have left in time with Mr Jones..).  No amount of discussion and showing shipment documents for Mr Jones or a rough itinerary would change the check-in counter staff’s mind and so we ended up scrambling to buy another one-way ticket (which we hoped we could cancel on arrival) just to enable us to board the plane.  This in itself was not a smooth process (and a race against time to ensure we didn’t meet the check-in cutoff time) as the internet was acting up but given that this blog is being written from South America,  all eventually ended well and we boarded our flight to Argentina.

Gallery: Mozambique 2022 & Shipping

Below are links to the “Captain(s) log” which is our attempt to reflect the realities of daily life (emotions, good times, bad times, frustrations, etc) on the road

Captain(s) Log: February 2022

Captain(s) Log: March 2022

The end of our busy week in Johannesburg brought up the end of October and time to head back to Natal for a planned month of upgrades to Mr. Jones and getting ready for Devon & Hannah holiday to visit us over Christmas.  We were feeling quite tired from all the running around and socializing so decided to split the 600km journey in two by stopping off halfway at new destination for us, Spionkop Nature reserve and dam.

The facilities are very basic but the setting of the dam is spectacular and so we very quickly decided to stay an extra day which could have turned into a few more if our Standup Paddleboard hadn’t developed a leak (another job added to the list for November).

Feeling a little rested from our mini holiday we followed the backroads across the foothills of the Drakensberg mountains as we headed back to the farm and our base for the foreseeable future as we tackle jobs and await the arrival of Devon & Hannah.  

Throughout November we followed an approach of popping down to Durban for a surf and perhaps lunch on the promenade if the weather and waves were good interspersed with ticking off jobs big and small. The most significant job and upgrade that we are most proud of is the automation of the roof opening on Mr. Jones.  We carry a lot of weight on the roof and have upgraded the gas struts that help to push it up but it still required a lot of initial human muscle power to get the process going, which is fine so long as Stuart is not sick or injured.  It had worried us for a while that Tania could not open the roof if required and we had been looking around for solutions including asking the manufacturers if they had any solutions.  Stuart had come across the concept of using linear actuators and so when in Johannesburg we had visited a supplier and purchased two.  At the time of purchase everything was very much a gamble as we couldn’t accurately assess the force required to lift the roof or whether we could attach the actuators to Mr. Jones in such a manner as to use them in a “linear” motion.  The wannabe engineer in Stuart was not deterred and so over a few days we lifted and dropped the roof a number of times as we tried to figure out the best method of installation. Being on the farm helped a lot in this process with both access to the brain of Johan and a well-equipped workshop where we could fabricate brackets and modify as we progressed.

The end result is that while it may not be the neatest solution we have a very functional system which can now lift the roof with the flick of a switch.  For a more detailed breakdown of the installation, see this page under the section Mr Jones

As the end of November neared our excitement was growing real as Devon & Hannah long awaited holiday to SA drew closer only to be shattered when South Africa reported the discovery of the COVID Omicron variant and the world reacted with knee jerk reactions to impose bans on all travel to and from SA.  See the Captain(s) log from this time for an insight into our anger and despair.

A less successful job during this period was trying to get to the bottom of a possible overheating issue Mr. Jones was having, while we didn’t think it was a real issue it was concerning as the OEM temperature gauge occasionally showed an increase in temp.  The reason we didn’t think it was a major issue is we also have a digital aftermarket gauge which measure engine block temperatures and this was largely behaving.  Nonetheless it was concerning and we would prefer to have both gauges working as designed which meant that piece by piece Stuart removed and repaired or replaced parts of the cooling system and all along the process the problem persisted. The further he dug the more it looked like an electrical/earth fault but despite changing earth wires and so forth the issue persisted, leaving one accountant/wannabe mechanic very confused.

Having had enough of working on the coolant topic and needing to clear our heads after the Omnicron debacle we took a mini holiday down the South Coast aiming to be away until the beginning of the Christmas holiday season and imposition of exorbitant rates by the caravan parks. As an example, the park we visited charges R150 per person per day practically all year but for the Christmas period this jumps to a minimum of R950 per day per site.

By the middle of December, we were back at the farm and expecting to have a quiet Christmas when finally, some form of sanity prevailed and the “developed” world recognized that the Omicron travel bans were pointless and the UK scrapped theirs.  Sadly, and most annoyingly they did this on the very day that Devon would have originally arrived in South Africa but with the bans announced 3 weeks prior we had already cancelled all flights and other reservations.   

Within hours, Devon had rebooked a flight out for the following day and we spent the next 24 hours frantically trying to resurrect the local flights and accommodation originally booked. Unfortunately, because of all the chaos caused, Hannah was only going to be able to join us just before New Year but at least she was still going to be able to come and we would get 4 weeks with Devon and 2 weeks with them as a couple.

An anxious wait still ensued as there was still the small matter of passing a PCR test before any flights could be boarded but thankfully both did test negative and so the holiday finally took place.  The first ten days were a chilled affair as we just caught up on life, went to the beach and out for a few meals and of course over indulged on Christmas day.

New Year was spent in Johannesburg, mostly enjoying and being spoilt by the extended Goosen family which naturally involved introducing Hannah to the art of a South African braai, for a person prior to the visit was not a big meat fan she did really really well!

Hannah had only expressed one big desire for her part of the holiday and that was to see elephants in the wild.  In principle this is not a big ask but as Africans we know how difficult these giants can sometimes be to find when driving around in the bush, so when planning the trip we had weighed up options for game reserves and eventually decided that as a spoil and treat for all of us we would go to a private reserve in the Waterberg region.  Our time at Clifftop Lodge in Welgevonden was exactly as we had hoped and it was so fantastic to experience the joy of first sightings with “fresh eyes”.  Although after the first two game drives we were a little concerned that we may still not “deliver” the desired elephant sightings as the resident herd had not been seen for a few days.  Thankfully on the evening of the second day signs of elephants were spotted moving up a narrow valley and to add to the excitement a huge thunderstorm was raging all around us and the adolescents in the herd were less than happy, delivering a few mock charges for effect!  A pretty epic and exciting way to see your first elephants in the wild…  

The following morning we got to see another smaller herd and get really close to one bull in a much more relaxed setting.   Other “less significant” sightings included Leopard, Lion, Cheetah, Black & White Rhino and all the usual antelope.

After a leisurely cruise back to Johannesburg, we dropped the “kids” at the airport as they were on their way to Cape Town for a few days and we drove back to Durban where they would fly too after Cape Town.

In between all of the above, we had started to request quotes for shipping in the hope that South America would open its borders to Africans soon (they also locked us out due to Omnicron) and that perhaps we could ship mid-February and get our own adventure back on track. A combination of the borders remaining closed and a lack of vessels sailing the route we wanted meant that by the end of January there was still no light at the end of the tunnel and so we made a last minute decision to head into Mozambique for a month and have some fun.  It was one of our best decisions in a while but that is a story for the next blog post.

As always below are links to:

Gallery: Welgevonden

Captain(s) Log: November & December 2021

Captain(s) Log: January 2022

Maintenance Log