Travel Diary: Brazil (May 2022)

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: