As Sir David Attenborough said, “Our biggest problem is, there are too many of us here on our planet”.
Quite literally, it seems we will have to keep taking natural resources until they are all gone.
This song by Canadian, Bruce Cockburn, was released in 1988. We have all been extremely busy destroying forest ecosystems for these last 26 years.
Here in the Amazon Basin, I find myself thinking about this often. Though not an avid environmentalist, it is important for me to be aware and consider the environment I travel in.
11/2014 Rurópolis to Rio Igurapa do Onca
D87 (11 around Rurópolis) T7, Av13.47, Max56, 6479, 32,005
Fine, a few clouds and not unbearably hot
I had got into bed about 2300, things had been packed, others had been discarded. My bag, that I travelled here with was left behind, as was the old stool and a Portuguese phrase book.
Most people have some idea what I am talking about when Spanish is used, I also have a few Portuguese apps on my phone.
Arising at 0330, a coffee was enjoyed using my Resistencia in the room.
No jet lag was being experienced, as my watch was changed to Brasilia time in Atlanta.
The hotel is also the bus stop in town so there are people about all night. I took my coffee out to enjoy in the street.
Here some people were waiting for a bus to Altamira, infact most people spoken to are going to Altamira, it is where all the work is.
A woman and her companions told me they were from the area north of here, up a river then by bus up near the Venezuelan border.
There is only one way to get there. This fascinates me. The river and bus transport system allows these people to be mobile. They were heading to Altamira hoping to find work. I told them the accommodation was expensive.
I spoke to other people about a side road I hope to take in the next couple of days to get me off Ruta 163.
Having a huge breakfast of bread, ham and cheese and watermelon, which was complimentary in the hotel. Ruta 163 was found and after getting some air in my tyres and topping up on fresh cold water, the time was 0830.
Leaving town the road was paved.
On the two bus trips here, both in the dark, little attention was payed to the road. It is best not to know too much about what is ahead. It makes it all too predictable, all I knew was there is a mix of asphalt and tar with no huge hills.
It was again, so refreshing to be ambling along, the first beads of sweat soon surfaced on my forehead, it was a good feeling.
Nearly a month of comparative excesses, were on their way to being purged.
Taking my time, caring not to overdo the effort, it was nice to know that there would be no more spoke issues with the rear wheel. I hope!
In hindsight, both rims should have been replaced.
An email has been received, Tubus are kindly sending two replacement racks to Nicaragua. The front and rear rack are both sporting welds from repairs due to metal fatigue and vibration.
These racks in my opinion are about as good as you can get. At times they have been overloaded, possibly leading to their cracking.
Corrugated roads don’t help either.
Thousands of kilometres in Peru, Chile and Argentina were ridden on teeth loosening corrugations.
Some twenty km from town the asphalt ended, there were road works for miles.
It was oddly enough nice to be back among the trucks of the Soya Express.
Dozens of them always in groups of two or more were heading to the Cargill facility at Santarém.
A few were pulled up on the roadside repairing a tyre.
They told me that the round trip from Mato Grosso is 16 days and they always return empty.
They are carrying corn to feed animals in China.
I find it hard to reconcile how they can drive back for 8 days without a load and still make money. Some were returning with three of their axles lifted from the road to save on tyre wear.
All their trucks are state of the art floating cab European brands.
The guys gave me a couple of bottles of frozen water. Back on Ruta 163, the road that runs due north passing through Cuiaba, most drivers were on business whether reps or the truck drivers.
Again everyone is so friendly, tooting and waving, especially the guys in the dump trucks moving soil for the road construction.
The soya drivers also give me the thumbs and a wave.
Thinking about this constant stream of corn. A monster, reminiscent of Shrek, in China can be imagined sitting at a table with a napkin hanging from his neck and a spoon in both hands. He is eating from a huge plate, just as he takes a spoonful, on the other side of the world these trucks are keeping his plate forever full, one by one, they see that he does not ever reach into an empty bowl.
In a few years when the Nicaraguan canal is completed by the Chinese, his appetite will even get bigger.
Much vegetation here in the Amazon is most certainly and sadly on borrowed time.
Unimaginable diversity, making way for a frightening monoculture.
All the country to my left is parkland and is heavy jungle, the eastern side is settled.
Small clearings are everywhere and usually occupied by a dwelling. Coming to a small settlement called Sadrok, a stop was made and a few empanadas were eaten and three drinks of Acai enjoyed. This is the purple drink derived from palm seeds. It had sugar in it. The flavour is kind of like a bland blackberry juice.
I like it.
By now, the heat of the day was settling in. It was 33 degrees in the shade.
I could feel the sun burning my face, short of wearing a balaclava, it is hard to protect it, sunblock would just get wiped off.
Some 8km down the road, all hell broke loose.
Only just making it onto the roadside, my pants were dropped and a major anal purge took place.
My feelings were, it was not from food, but more of a physiological event. Five hours of exertion in extreme heat after time not doing little exercise. After all, it was only a day and a half since I was on a plane, almost motionless, eating less than desirable food.
Following this episode my stomach was still rumbling, a stop was needed. Finding a break in the jungle, the bike was wheeled down a small track.
It like all places that offer privacy was a bush toilet.
None were fresh and I needed to lie down. The air was cooler in the shade.
The kitchen tarp was spread out and my raincoat used for a pillow.
My body was drenched in sweat mixed with dust.
This discomfort was very secondary, it was so good to lie down.
Unfortunately, the ants found me within half an hour. Though not biting, they were everywhere.
The need to get out of here was paramount. Back on the road and still on asphalt, I just ambled along mindful of my less than adapted body.
Soon a lanchonette was seen, her an hour or more was spent drinking coconuts, eating a sweet cake, drinking water and just watching all the travellers pull in.
The rest was great, there was also washing facilities here.
I was stirring up the young girl about Portuguese and how difficult it is it understand. We had a lot of laughs.
She had no idea half the time what I was on about. Reluctantly heading on about 1630, a full load of water was taken. Some 3 km down the road, some guys were sewing bags full of black seeds that had been drying in the sun.
To my surprise, it was peppercorns they were drying and packing.
We chatted and they kindly gave me a small bag of the delicious little berries. I carry a plastic disposable grinder, it can be refilled, these will replenish the grinder.
Time now was spent looking for a camp along the road. Some 8-10 km further, a bridge was crossed, I turned around to look at the river from its rails.
A perfect camping spot was seen in a kind of parking area below the bridge.
Down here were some timbers, in the shallows to sit on.
Moments after arriving a group of young guys turned up to wash clothes and themselves.
They were great friendly guys, we swam together and talked about the animals. They tried to tell me at night big Jacaré are here.
We laughed. They were standing in the clear waters soaping and slapping their soapy clothes on the washboard.
This was such a good camp. I felt safe enough to pitch my tent in full view of the road.
People out here are for the most part so friendly, thoughts of confrontations or theft are not entertained. Almost always, a relaxed feeling is experienced around the locals .
Dinner was pasta and tuna as usual. It was actually great to be eating familiar food again. My recovery from the earlier problems was nearly complete, my appetite indicated this.
Washing was done on the riverbank.
I was in the tent at 2030, dog tired in a relaxed state, reflecting on how nice it was to be back in central Brazil without a care in the world other than those associated with shelter, my wellbeing and food.
Sleep came rapidly.
12/9/2014 Rio Igurapa do Onca to small quarry
D86, T8, Av15.39, Max 53, 32091/6,565
Slight northerly, 35+ , overcast with patchy blue skies
Awaking very early, my blog was updated with pleasure.
A heavy dew had layered the locale, the fly was soaked, sleeping with it only over the lower part of my body, the mesh in the tent when exposed to the skies allows for a better sleeping temperature. The night was uneventful except for some voices heard in the very early hours. Their owners must have been up on the road.
The morning was cool, by that I mean 20+ degrees. Soon as the sun hit camp, it rose into the mid twenties.
Within 10 minutes of its arrival the river was beckoning , the swim was so divine, I remember thinking it would be so nice just to wallow in it all day.
An early morning fish was enjoyed with no luck.
Small yellow kingfishers were sitting on branches overhanging the silently flowing tannin stained but clear waters. All too clean for Jacaré.
The sun had the fly dry in no time. Once on the road the asphalt continued.
An interesting point was whilst waiting in line for the flight to Manaus, a conversation was started with two engineers who were travelling there to check safety procedures on a hydro dam.
They said many Brasilleiros, are now flying for the first time. It was quite obvious, as many are in line half an hour before the boarding time. It was so interesting watching them, they were excited, full of anticipation, laced with a touch of fear.
I always remember the first plane flight for me, those emotions were also present.
The guys went on to tell me that they can buy tickets and pay them off interest free over a year.
He showed me his ticket. There it was, a hundred down and twelve equal instalments.
Same old story, there is no such thing as a free meal when dealing with big business today. Their airfare had cost 300 dollars more than mine. I commented on this and they agreed.
Importantly it does get people mobile, and the ability to see family or friends thousands of miles away in this huge country, is worth the burden of debt I guess.
My body is still getting used to the exertion in the heat, I am taking things for granted.
At home, one would not even think of heading out for a ride in the heat of the day, where 25-27 is considered hot. Let alone move 50kg along for the ride.
For me this is where small amounts of adrenalin come in very handy, it flows freely in my body. This comes from the overall excitement of this never-ending adventure of life for me. The burden of the gear is often felt when it is not flowing.
Coming upon a little bar under the shadow of a bamboo clump a stop was made for refreshments.
Felling no guilt, a litre of coke was bought, the other options were little better.
These little bars sell nothing but sugar laced drinks in large and small bottles but water only in small bottles.
On departure a good amount of iced water from his fridge was drunk and some taken .
Once reaching the turn off to take the western road to Santarém was reached, a stop was made at a house to see if I could actually get to Santarém. They said it was open.
They also said there was a small village 4km in with a lanchonette. Great , my stomach was calling for food. At about 4km and coming down a hill, there at the bottom was a low bridge with kids swimming. No sooner had a place to put the bike been found, it was down to my boxers and straight into the cooling waters. For the time my hunger was forgotten about. It was unbelievably refreshing.
The locals told me there was a restaurant in town just up the rise.
Once in there I asked about. A place was found, where it seemed the whole town was eating. They said I could have food but didn’t have to pay.
Many in the community ate here every day. It was rice, beef and chicken.
Sao Jorge as the town was called was home the 450 people. Time was spent talking to a bunch of school children, they learn English in their later years at school.
On asking about the road to Santarém, they told me it was open but sections had calf muscle deep sand in places. Sand is my biggest nightmare on the road.
Hearing this was enough to make me had back to the highway, though not before plunging back in the river waters on the way.
Back on the highway, a sign some 10km on said something about a sustainable forest project. A tack left the highway, it was about 1500 and unbearably hot.
This track gave me some shelter from the relentless heat and sun.
Soon I came to a deserted building. Here was a lemon tree, a bush lemon, some were picked and squeezed into my drink bottle.
Beyond the building the track continued. I could ride it. Looking at the forest floor, no one had been here for a long time.
Soon the vegetation got thick and the light diminished.
It had been logged, the only large trees remaining had little timber value due to bent trunks or forks half way up.
Monkeys were seen climbing in these older vine clad giants.
Opening a gate and crossing a power easement the track led deeper into the now very dark under story.
If water could be found here I would camp the night.
Unfortunately, the track followed a ridge, no water was found, so I headed back to the road.
Much of this forest was regrowth, only one old large stump was found. Decay in this climate must be rapid. Also given the fact that this area was logged in the 70’s, forty years has hidden the destruction that must have taken place here.
The place must have been full of arboreal animals, few remain.
From here, some 15km, a moto was seen on the side of the road, still asphalt I might add.
Here was a guy with his two kids swimming and washing in a clear water hole. So was I, within 5 minutes.
The young girl, about 5 was such a good swimmer, we swam out into deep water, she was a cute as a button and swam like a dolphin, full of confidence. With her brother, they were showing me their diving skills. They were full of enthusiasm, it was a special encounter, their dad was a good guy, telling me about the road around here. Little was understood, but who cares. It was all about doing our best.
These waterholes are a blessing. Today had been a day of perfectly timed swims. Clothes were rinsed here also.
Moving on, a silver Hilux pulled up ahead, I had an idea who it was.
Out of the driver’s door climbed Honorio, whom I had shared a meal with at the Hotel Pires in Rurópolis. He had a friend with him.
It was great to see him. We had arranged to catch up in Santarém where he lives.
He told me to come and stay at his house.
He plays table tennis, a game I enjoy alot. We chatted for awhile. He is patient and understands some Spanish. He too is an enthusiastic guy. He said I could put the bike in the pickup. I tried to explain that I did not do this. Though thanking him sincerely.
By now it was 1800hrs, my tether was stretched, the need for a camp was paramount. A church was stopped at, the neighbour did not want me camping there. He gave me a full load of water and with difficulty the pedals were made to revolve late in the day.
Only just down the road a small quarry was seen behind a high spot on the roadside.
On inspection it was humble but met all prerequisites. Those of a tent site, not visible from the road and remarkably ant free.
I was totally exhausted, only able to have milo and noodles for dinner, and on my back in the tent by 1930.
Todays lunch in Sao Jorge had kept hunger at bay.
It was like a sauna in the tent as air could not flow in my almost subterranean abode for the night .
I most definitely can’t remember much after 10 minutes inside the tent.
13/9/2014 Quarry to Alter do Chao
D64, Av 15, T7, 6629/32155
Hot with medium strength northerly
I was awake at 0400, the moon cast ample light to be able to make coffee.
A good sleep was enjoyed there was no point in hanging about. I was packed and on the road by 0715.
All the brown dirt in the quarry got a bit tacky in the dew so a bit was along for the ride.
My body is still not in sync with time here as yet.
Normally the need to move my bowels is first thing in the morning, for the last 3 days this chore has been performed in the afternoon. To date with less than desired solidity.
The time is slowly getting reined in, today just after midday saw me sitting on the invisible chair in the bush.
In these conditions, when a bodily function is not working perfectly, the symptoms are exaggerated. I have had a slight stomach unease for all this time.
On the road, there was quite a strong head wind from the north. I guessed the presence of a huge body of water up ahead created this pressure difference. It had a cooling affect.
However, riding was hard work. My energy soon dwindled and a gel was needed to keep me going.
Thankfully a gas station was roadside and a stop was made. Here 3 cocinha de frangos were enjoyed. They are plumb bob shaped and contain meat among other options surrounded by potato and are fried of course. These were homemade by the woman, they were divine.
I was told the road to Balterra and on to Alter do Chao was 2km ahead.
In Balterra, my tent was hung to dry in a park for half an hour. A great restaurant was found where ckicken and rice with salad eased my hunger.
A right turn was made here to take the route to the tourist town of Alter do Chao.
Santarém / POP 281,000 Santarém has two distinct personalities, befitting its location at the confluence of the creamy brown Amazon river and the much darker Rio Tapajós. On one hand, it’s a reasonably pleasant city, with river breezes and a wide waterfront promenade, popular with families, joggers and even cruise-ship passengers. On the other hand, popular with families, joggers and even cruise-ship passengers. On the other hand, it’s also a gritty port town – through which vast quantities of soy are funneled onto huge cargo ships – and host to an odd mix of port workers, businessmen, ship crews and hangers-on. Passenger boats between Belém and Manaus stop here, and it’s a great place to get off and break up the journey. You can also hop on a bus to Alter do Chão, a cool little town 35km away with white-sand river beaches and a laid-back backpacker vibe. Both Santarém and Alter do Chão provide easy access to the Floresta Nacional (FLONA) do Tapajós, a beautiful national forest where you can hike, canoe and stay the night with rubber-tapper families.Lonely Planet;
The asphalt soon turned to a sandy hard packed surface.
The forest was a dry type in the creamy sandy soils present. Coming down one hill, the vista down the road through the forest contained a lovely chunk of blue, that of the huge river Tapájos. It was quite a sight, so much water, all flowing and so far from the coast.
The road was now becoming difficult and dangerous to negotiate, with patches of deep sand.
There was a descent to the waters edge, here among lots of people in riverside cabanas, a swim was enjoyed in the tepid brown waters.
I now appreciate the waters of the relatively clear, cool waters of the small rivers I had been swimming in. These waters were nowhere near as refreshing.
Taking the turn to Alter, the road got worse, sections needed to be walked.
The most dangerous thing about riding in sand is coming off alongside an oncoming car.
A few occasions saw me drop the bike in the ankle deep loose sand.
On arrival in Alter do Chau, there were people everywhere.
A ride was taken down to the waterfront. It truly was a beautiful spot with the famous sand island teeming with people out the front of the riverside promenade.
They were having their annual festival tonight.
My thoughts immediately turned to lodgings for the night, or lack thereof.
Asking about, most were full and grossly overpriced.
An hour later down a dirt road still within town the Pousada Coracao Verde was spotted.
The owner said he had a room. At 50R a night it was cheap, two nights were booked.
My room was spacious though up one level. Being constructed in timber and brightly painted it had a relaxed feel about it.
A shower was taken in cooling waters.. My airbed was washed alongside me in the shower. It had accrued some mould in the 3 weeks whilst packed.
My sleeping bag also needed a good airing,.
The afternoon was spent meandering around town, people watching .There were people here from all over Brazil.
There were any number of people selling Coconuts to drink, at 3R they were 1R more than those on the road in the small towns.
The internet though available did not work due to the overload of users.
14/9/2014 Alter do Chao
Tour to Comunidade de Jamaraquá
5 hrs in 5m aluminium riverboat
Last night, with all intentions of going to the festival, some food was eaten in the streets. There were thousands of people everywhere in the balmy overly warm evening.
One look at the huge lines to the arena was enough to send me back to the pousada.
Extreme tiredness best describes my feelings at the time. My body and its out of sync, my bowel motions coupled with two 80km+ days in the mid to late thirties had taken its toll.
Earlier a tour had been booked, somewhat reluctantly. I am not a fan of these types of excursions where a thousand people day in and day out have trode the paths, eaten in the houses and asked dumb questions of the guide and worst of all often rudely taken photos of people without asking or with little respect.
However, my curiosity got the better of me, for I wanted to see rubber trees and the sap extraction method.
Also importantly the two other guys coming along, were the kind of people that you instantly took a liking to. Both were in their twenties and long term travellers. One from Israel and the other USA.
We all haggled and got the over priced trip down to just and expensive foray.
As arranged we met at the waterfront at 0830 and headed up the huge rio Tapájos in an open dingy with a 40hp outboard on the back.
The three of us got to know each other on the 3 hr trip.
Itay, the Israeli had been up all night. Mike not so late.
He had just finished his compulsory 3 yr service in the military in Israel, spent some time doing engineering and was now on the move. Some in Angola, so his Portuguese was good. Mike on the other hand, had done a tour in Iraq.
It was so interesting talking about all the ever so different aspects of their lives.
Israelis, many of them travel in SA after the military; do not visit Paraguay in any numbers because of the high Muslim population there.
He also said that Suriname, both Guyanas and Venezuela are a no go zone for many his countrymen because of the same reason.
In La Paz, Bolivia, he said the Bolivianos do not like the Israelis and are very rude to them. As far as tours are concerned in the city. An Israeli company does the guiding.
Incidentily, the Bolivianos are not too keen on people from the US either.
It is nice to see very poor but proud countries like Bolivia, make statements like this and act accordingly. For centuries, they have been exploited both physically and politically.
The book “The Open Veins of South America” tells of this appalling exploitation from artefacts to slave labour in the Peruvian mines and the sugar and rubber industries of Brazil. Almost all the gains were removed from this continent.
Mikes story, about his outfit, whilst on a mission in the food bowl in Northern Iraq was something I find difficult to come to terms with.
They were waiting for three guided missles to arrive from Baghdad, hundreds of miles away. Just like expecting the arrival of a bus at a station.
The first one was remotely controlled to hit the stronghold. The others just followed.
They must have arrived in town like three outlaws used to in a western movie, just casually winging their way in. Modern day outlaws, like their predecessors still causing death and destruction.
He said he was proud to serve his nation, after his tour, he was offered huge money to work for Blackwater. He could not justify this kind of service for any amount of money. Words from his heart, I sensed.
Anyway, that’s the big picture, we got on well and had heaps of laughs.
Included was a walk, snorkelling and most fascinating of all, a canoe trip through the half submerged forest on the shores of the Tapájos river.
An unreal lunch of fresh fish and salad was enjoyed in the great company of a family. A lot of light hearted waffle was discussed around the table.
We were especially stirring Itay who met a nice Brasileira at the festival and was all excited about the content of her return text message about his possible stay at her apartment in Santarém.
The boat trip back was in choppy waters, we got drenched, the water must have been 28 degrees. We disembrked in the dark.
Regardless of the cost it had been an unreal day, sharing our experiences and life styles, intermingled with lots of laughs and light conversation.
Our guides were probably happy to not have had a thousand questions asked of them.
The evening saw us have a few beers over a light meal.
It really had been a day in great company.
Our tour company was Mae Natureza Ecoturismo, the owners were great guys who could speak Español, English and Portuguese.
I would recommend them.
Touring by bicycle, one realises, how much you do intimately see and experience along the way in less than predictable circumstances.
15-16/9/2014 Santarém to Almeirim
Bike and MV Breno
D47, T4, Av13.3, Max57, 32202/6676
Fine and hot, with lovely river breeze
Up early as usual, things were packed and plenty eaten for breakfast. On moving the bike from the room it was found the front tyre was flat. Caesar the owner helped me with it down the cliff like wooden staircase.
The tyre was repaired in leisurely time.
It was an easy ride to Santarém, though there was no shoulder, the traffic was not a problem. Like everywhere I have been in Brazil, the drivers are courteous. As usual tooting from behind if they think they may endanger me as they pass.
To my amazement coming down a gentle hill was another touring cyclist heading to Alter. We both nearly rode past each other, thinking we were each a mirage.
It was so good to have a chat for an hour. Caesar was on his way from Sao Paulo to Colombia and possibly Panama.
I told him about the pousada in Alter which was really good value considering Mike and Itay just had a hammock spot outside for 30R.
Arriving in Santarém my front tyre was pumped up to about 65lbs at a borracharia.
My next move was to the waterfront.
Here I meet Mike and Itay was staying with his lady friend for the night, Mike had a hotel.
We had lunch. I looked about for a hotel but all were with rooms on the 1st floor accessed by ridiculously small narrow staircases.
Two hotels in a row with stairs was not on.
Honorio had text me to say he could catch me tomorrow, as he was out of town on work.
One of the huge advantages of travelling alone now came into play. That of being able to change plans without having to see everyone is happy.
I text Honorio to thank him for his offer and booked the MV Breno to Almeirin on the Amazon River still in Pará. A fifteen hour trip for 70R ($35)
Santarém was a large city, really just a commercial centre. It was bustling, with shops packed in everywhere in the one streets down by the waterfront.
Sadly, grey water was running freely in these streets, all to the lowest point, you guessed it, into the Tapájos and Amazon rivers.
Lately, some of my gear is wearing out, two days ago my riding pants had a small hole in the bum, by the time I got to Alter it was a good job I had underpants on. These were tossed.
My sandals again lost some webbing from the sole. This was glued back in and stitched for added strength .
Once again, this glue proved it worth to be carried. Some cheap nylon loose fitting shorts were bought to replace my Patagonia pants.
The MV Breno left at 1830 from the busy foreshores. Here there was a promenade with people selling kababs, fruit, drinks, ice creams and all manner of accessories like sunglasses.
Tied up, bow to shore was a huge line up of river boats gunwale to gunwale, almost all sporting blue and white.
People were shouldering cargo across the promenade to these vessels.
Each one probably had a tributary or town that it took goods and people to. Waterfronts are great places.
Sitting on the ledge, 3 chickens kebabs were eaten. It was such a pleasure to watch the rivermen at work. The vendor was informed that he made the best chicken kebabs in Brazil!!
The river Tapájos flows on the Santarém side whilst the brown waters of the Amazon can be seen in the distance. Earlier I had swum off some steps on the promenade.
Two old men were bathing and washing themselves in the clear tannin stained warm waters.
Upstream on the shores could be seen the huge Cargill Soya Bean and corn loading facility. This represents the new Amazon basin.
Dockside at the ferry was like something from a movie set, people were singing through PA systems to try and sell their CD’s.
Others were carrying up to four boxes and bags on their shoulders to another large vessel tied up on the other side of the old converted barges that had plate welded on them to provide a pontoon that extended into the river.
Food carts were everywhere.
A guy with his legs bent at the knees hanging over the dock infront of our boat was hand lining and with regularity catching small Paku. Once caught they were released into an onion bag hanging in the brown water.
People lined the three decks dockside, there was lots to watch while we all waited for the final cargo and passengers to be aboard.
On the cargo deck were cars, motos, boxes of fish, fruit, pineapples, and items of machinery.
My ticket included dinner and breakfast.
Once under way we were all told to go to the upper decks as we passed the water authority, once past we were free to wander where we wanted.
Everyone had a hammock and these were slung on the hundreds of hooks on rows, each numbered. The vessel could carry 500 plus people and cargo.
My hammock was slung next to the bike. This was a palace on water compared to the trip to Concepción.
The dinner was filling and a good nights sleep after a shower.
A couple of ports were stopped at overnight. There was quite a bit of river traffic.
In the morning, a breakfast of fruit was supplied with coffee. I was ashore in Almeirim at 0830.
It was an effortless passage, a great sleep was had, a shower, breakfast, disembarking, I felt as fresh as a daisy.
A hotel was booked for the night. Every hotel room stayed in for the last few weeks has had hammock hooks secured to the walls, in earlier times this would have been the standard sleeping arrangement.
The internet is very slow here in Almeirin, I will post more photos as it speeds up nearer the coast maybe.
Quite literally, it seems we will have to keep taking natural resources until they are all gone.
This song by Canadian, Bruce Cockburn, was released in 1988. We have all been extremely busy destroying forest ecosystems for these last 26 years.
Here in the Amazon Basin, I find myself thinking about this often. Though not an avid environmentalist, it is important for me to be aware and consider the environment I travel in.
11/2014 Rurópolis to Rio Igurapa do Onca
D87 (11 around Rurópolis) T7, Av13.47, Max56, 6479, 32,005
Fine, a few clouds and not unbearably hot
I had got into bed about 2300, things had been packed, others had been discarded. My bag, that I travelled here with was left behind, as was the old stool and a Portuguese phrase book.
Most people have some idea what I am talking about when Spanish is used, I also have a few Portuguese apps on my phone.
Arising at 0330, a coffee was enjoyed using my Resistencia in the room.
No jet lag was being experienced, as my watch was changed to Brasilia time in Atlanta.
The hotel is also the bus stop in town so there are people about all night. I took my coffee out to enjoy in the street.
Here some people were waiting for a bus to Altamira, infact most people spoken to are going to Altamira, it is where all the work is.
A woman and her companions told me they were from the area north of here, up a river then by bus up near the Venezuelan border.
There is only one way to get there. This fascinates me. The river and bus transport system allows these people to be mobile. They were heading to Altamira hoping to find work. I told them the accommodation was expensive.
I spoke to other people about a side road I hope to take in the next couple of days to get me off Ruta 163.
Having a huge breakfast of bread, ham and cheese and watermelon, which was complimentary in the hotel. Ruta 163 was found and after getting some air in my tyres and topping up on fresh cold water, the time was 0830.
Leaving town the road was paved.
On the two bus trips here, both in the dark, little attention was payed to the road. It is best not to know too much about what is ahead. It makes it all too predictable, all I knew was there is a mix of asphalt and tar with no huge hills.
It was again, so refreshing to be ambling along, the first beads of sweat soon surfaced on my forehead, it was a good feeling.
Nearly a month of comparative excesses, were on their way to being purged.
Taking my time, caring not to overdo the effort, it was nice to know that there would be no more spoke issues with the rear wheel. I hope!
In hindsight, both rims should have been replaced.
An email has been received, Tubus are kindly sending two replacement racks to Nicaragua. The front and rear rack are both sporting welds from repairs due to metal fatigue and vibration.
These racks in my opinion are about as good as you can get. At times they have been overloaded, possibly leading to their cracking.
Corrugated roads don’t help either.
Thousands of kilometres in Peru, Chile and Argentina were ridden on teeth loosening corrugations.
Some twenty km from town the asphalt ended, there were road works for miles.
It was oddly enough nice to be back among the trucks of the Soya Express.
Dozens of them always in groups of two or more were heading to the Cargill facility at Santarém.
A few were pulled up on the roadside repairing a tyre.
They told me that the round trip from Mato Grosso is 16 days and they always return empty.
They are carrying corn to feed animals in China.
I find it hard to reconcile how they can drive back for 8 days without a load and still make money. Some were returning with three of their axles lifted from the road to save on tyre wear.
All their trucks are state of the art floating cab European brands.
The guys gave me a couple of bottles of frozen water. Back on Ruta 163, the road that runs due north passing through Cuiaba, most drivers were on business whether reps or the truck drivers.
Again everyone is so friendly, tooting and waving, especially the guys in the dump trucks moving soil for the road construction.
The soya drivers also give me the thumbs and a wave.
Thinking about this constant stream of corn. A monster, reminiscent of Shrek, in China can be imagined sitting at a table with a napkin hanging from his neck and a spoon in both hands. He is eating from a huge plate, just as he takes a spoonful, on the other side of the world these trucks are keeping his plate forever full, one by one, they see that he does not ever reach into an empty bowl.
In a few years when the Nicaraguan canal is completed by the Chinese, his appetite will even get bigger.
Much vegetation here in the Amazon is most certainly and sadly on borrowed time.
Unimaginable diversity, making way for a frightening monoculture.
All the country to my left is parkland and is heavy jungle, the eastern side is settled.
Small clearings are everywhere and usually occupied by a dwelling. Coming to a small settlement called Sadrok, a stop was made and a few empanadas were eaten and three drinks of Acai enjoyed. This is the purple drink derived from palm seeds. It had sugar in it. The flavour is kind of like a bland blackberry juice.
I like it.
By now, the heat of the day was settling in. It was 33 degrees in the shade.
I could feel the sun burning my face, short of wearing a balaclava, it is hard to protect it, sunblock would just get wiped off.
Some 8km down the road, all hell broke loose.
Only just making it onto the roadside, my pants were dropped and a major anal purge took place.
My feelings were, it was not from food, but more of a physiological event. Five hours of exertion in extreme heat after time not doing little exercise. After all, it was only a day and a half since I was on a plane, almost motionless, eating less than desirable food.
Following this episode my stomach was still rumbling, a stop was needed. Finding a break in the jungle, the bike was wheeled down a small track.
It like all places that offer privacy was a bush toilet.
None were fresh and I needed to lie down. The air was cooler in the shade.
The kitchen tarp was spread out and my raincoat used for a pillow.
My body was drenched in sweat mixed with dust.
This discomfort was very secondary, it was so good to lie down.
Unfortunately, the ants found me within half an hour. Though not biting, they were everywhere.
The need to get out of here was paramount. Back on the road and still on asphalt, I just ambled along mindful of my less than adapted body.
Soon a lanchonette was seen, her an hour or more was spent drinking coconuts, eating a sweet cake, drinking water and just watching all the travellers pull in.
The rest was great, there was also washing facilities here.
I was stirring up the young girl about Portuguese and how difficult it is it understand. We had a lot of laughs.
She had no idea half the time what I was on about. Reluctantly heading on about 1630, a full load of water was taken. Some 3 km down the road, some guys were sewing bags full of black seeds that had been drying in the sun.
To my surprise, it was peppercorns they were drying and packing.
We chatted and they kindly gave me a small bag of the delicious little berries. I carry a plastic disposable grinder, it can be refilled, these will replenish the grinder.
Time now was spent looking for a camp along the road. Some 8-10 km further, a bridge was crossed, I turned around to look at the river from its rails.
A perfect camping spot was seen in a kind of parking area below the bridge.
Down here were some timbers, in the shallows to sit on.
Moments after arriving a group of young guys turned up to wash clothes and themselves.
They were great friendly guys, we swam together and talked about the animals. They tried to tell me at night big Jacaré are here.
We laughed. They were standing in the clear waters soaping and slapping their soapy clothes on the washboard.
This was such a good camp. I felt safe enough to pitch my tent in full view of the road.
People out here are for the most part so friendly, thoughts of confrontations or theft are not entertained. Almost always, a relaxed feeling is experienced around the locals .
Dinner was pasta and tuna as usual. It was actually great to be eating familiar food again. My recovery from the earlier problems was nearly complete, my appetite indicated this.
Washing was done on the riverbank.
I was in the tent at 2030, dog tired in a relaxed state, reflecting on how nice it was to be back in central Brazil without a care in the world other than those associated with shelter, my wellbeing and food.
Sleep came rapidly.
12/9/2014 Rio Igurapa do Onca to small quarry
D86, T8, Av15.39, Max 53, 32091/6,565
Slight northerly, 35+ , overcast with patchy blue skies
Awaking very early, my blog was updated with pleasure.
A heavy dew had layered the locale, the fly was soaked, sleeping with it only over the lower part of my body, the mesh in the tent when exposed to the skies allows for a better sleeping temperature. The night was uneventful except for some voices heard in the very early hours. Their owners must have been up on the road.
The morning was cool, by that I mean 20+ degrees. Soon as the sun hit camp, it rose into the mid twenties.
Within 10 minutes of its arrival the river was beckoning , the swim was so divine, I remember thinking it would be so nice just to wallow in it all day.
An early morning fish was enjoyed with no luck.
Small yellow kingfishers were sitting on branches overhanging the silently flowing tannin stained but clear waters. All too clean for Jacaré.
The sun had the fly dry in no time. Once on the road the asphalt continued.
An interesting point was whilst waiting in line for the flight to Manaus, a conversation was started with two engineers who were travelling there to check safety procedures on a hydro dam.
They said many Brasilleiros, are now flying for the first time. It was quite obvious, as many are in line half an hour before the boarding time. It was so interesting watching them, they were excited, full of anticipation, laced with a touch of fear.
I always remember the first plane flight for me, those emotions were also present.
The guys went on to tell me that they can buy tickets and pay them off interest free over a year.
He showed me his ticket. There it was, a hundred down and twelve equal instalments.
Same old story, there is no such thing as a free meal when dealing with big business today. Their airfare had cost 300 dollars more than mine. I commented on this and they agreed.
Importantly it does get people mobile, and the ability to see family or friends thousands of miles away in this huge country, is worth the burden of debt I guess.
My body is still getting used to the exertion in the heat, I am taking things for granted.
At home, one would not even think of heading out for a ride in the heat of the day, where 25-27 is considered hot. Let alone move 50kg along for the ride.
For me this is where small amounts of adrenalin come in very handy, it flows freely in my body. This comes from the overall excitement of this never-ending adventure of life for me. The burden of the gear is often felt when it is not flowing.
Coming upon a little bar under the shadow of a bamboo clump a stop was made for refreshments.
Felling no guilt, a litre of coke was bought, the other options were little better.
These little bars sell nothing but sugar laced drinks in large and small bottles but water only in small bottles.
On departure a good amount of iced water from his fridge was drunk and some taken .
Once reaching the turn off to take the western road to Santarém was reached, a stop was made at a house to see if I could actually get to Santarém. They said it was open.
They also said there was a small village 4km in with a lanchonette. Great , my stomach was calling for food. At about 4km and coming down a hill, there at the bottom was a low bridge with kids swimming. No sooner had a place to put the bike been found, it was down to my boxers and straight into the cooling waters. For the time my hunger was forgotten about. It was unbelievably refreshing.
The locals told me there was a restaurant in town just up the rise.
Once in there I asked about. A place was found, where it seemed the whole town was eating. They said I could have food but didn’t have to pay.
Many in the community ate here every day. It was rice, beef and chicken.
Sao Jorge as the town was called was home the 450 people. Time was spent talking to a bunch of school children, they learn English in their later years at school.
On asking about the road to Santarém, they told me it was open but sections had calf muscle deep sand in places. Sand is my biggest nightmare on the road.
Hearing this was enough to make me had back to the highway, though not before plunging back in the river waters on the way.
Back on the highway, a sign some 10km on said something about a sustainable forest project. A tack left the highway, it was about 1500 and unbearably hot.
This track gave me some shelter from the relentless heat and sun.
Soon I came to a deserted building. Here was a lemon tree, a bush lemon, some were picked and squeezed into my drink bottle.
Beyond the building the track continued. I could ride it. Looking at the forest floor, no one had been here for a long time.
Soon the vegetation got thick and the light diminished.
It had been logged, the only large trees remaining had little timber value due to bent trunks or forks half way up.
Monkeys were seen climbing in these older vine clad giants.
Opening a gate and crossing a power easement the track led deeper into the now very dark under story.
If water could be found here I would camp the night.
Unfortunately, the track followed a ridge, no water was found, so I headed back to the road.
Much of this forest was regrowth, only one old large stump was found. Decay in this climate must be rapid. Also given the fact that this area was logged in the 70’s, forty years has hidden the destruction that must have taken place here.
The place must have been full of arboreal animals, few remain.
From here, some 15km, a moto was seen on the side of the road, still asphalt I might add.
Here was a guy with his two kids swimming and washing in a clear water hole. So was I, within 5 minutes.
The young girl, about 5 was such a good swimmer, we swam out into deep water, she was a cute as a button and swam like a dolphin, full of confidence. With her brother, they were showing me their diving skills. They were full of enthusiasm, it was a special encounter, their dad was a good guy, telling me about the road around here. Little was understood, but who cares. It was all about doing our best.
These waterholes are a blessing. Today had been a day of perfectly timed swims. Clothes were rinsed here also.
Moving on, a silver Hilux pulled up ahead, I had an idea who it was.
Out of the driver’s door climbed Honorio, whom I had shared a meal with at the Hotel Pires in Rurópolis. He had a friend with him.
It was great to see him. We had arranged to catch up in Santarém where he lives.
He told me to come and stay at his house.
He plays table tennis, a game I enjoy alot. We chatted for awhile. He is patient and understands some Spanish. He too is an enthusiastic guy. He said I could put the bike in the pickup. I tried to explain that I did not do this. Though thanking him sincerely.
By now it was 1800hrs, my tether was stretched, the need for a camp was paramount. A church was stopped at, the neighbour did not want me camping there. He gave me a full load of water and with difficulty the pedals were made to revolve late in the day.
Only just down the road a small quarry was seen behind a high spot on the roadside.
On inspection it was humble but met all prerequisites. Those of a tent site, not visible from the road and remarkably ant free.
I was totally exhausted, only able to have milo and noodles for dinner, and on my back in the tent by 1930.
Todays lunch in Sao Jorge had kept hunger at bay.
It was like a sauna in the tent as air could not flow in my almost subterranean abode for the night .
I most definitely can’t remember much after 10 minutes inside the tent.
13/9/2014 Quarry to Alter do Chao
D64, Av 15, T7, 6629/32155
Hot with medium strength northerly
I was awake at 0400, the moon cast ample light to be able to make coffee.
A good sleep was enjoyed there was no point in hanging about. I was packed and on the road by 0715.
All the brown dirt in the quarry got a bit tacky in the dew so a bit was along for the ride.
My body is still not in sync with time here as yet.
Normally the need to move my bowels is first thing in the morning, for the last 3 days this chore has been performed in the afternoon. To date with less than desired solidity.
The time is slowly getting reined in, today just after midday saw me sitting on the invisible chair in the bush.
In these conditions, when a bodily function is not working perfectly, the symptoms are exaggerated. I have had a slight stomach unease for all this time.
On the road, there was quite a strong head wind from the north. I guessed the presence of a huge body of water up ahead created this pressure difference. It had a cooling affect.
However, riding was hard work. My energy soon dwindled and a gel was needed to keep me going.
Thankfully a gas station was roadside and a stop was made. Here 3 cocinha de frangos were enjoyed. They are plumb bob shaped and contain meat among other options surrounded by potato and are fried of course. These were homemade by the woman, they were divine.
I was told the road to Balterra and on to Alter do Chao was 2km ahead.
In Balterra, my tent was hung to dry in a park for half an hour. A great restaurant was found where ckicken and rice with salad eased my hunger.
A right turn was made here to take the route to the tourist town of Alter do Chao.
Santarém / POP 281,000 Santarém has two distinct personalities, befitting its location at the confluence of the creamy brown Amazon river and the much darker Rio Tapajós. On one hand, it’s a reasonably pleasant city, with river breezes and a wide waterfront promenade, popular with families, joggers and even cruise-ship passengers. On the other hand, popular with families, joggers and even cruise-ship passengers. On the other hand, it’s also a gritty port town – through which vast quantities of soy are funneled onto huge cargo ships – and host to an odd mix of port workers, businessmen, ship crews and hangers-on. Passenger boats between Belém and Manaus stop here, and it’s a great place to get off and break up the journey. You can also hop on a bus to Alter do Chão, a cool little town 35km away with white-sand river beaches and a laid-back backpacker vibe. Both Santarém and Alter do Chão provide easy access to the Floresta Nacional (FLONA) do Tapajós, a beautiful national forest where you can hike, canoe and stay the night with rubber-tapper families.Lonely Planet;
The asphalt soon turned to a sandy hard packed surface.
The forest was a dry type in the creamy sandy soils present. Coming down one hill, the vista down the road through the forest contained a lovely chunk of blue, that of the huge river Tapájos. It was quite a sight, so much water, all flowing and so far from the coast.
The road was now becoming difficult and dangerous to negotiate, with patches of deep sand.
There was a descent to the waters edge, here among lots of people in riverside cabanas, a swim was enjoyed in the tepid brown waters.
I now appreciate the waters of the relatively clear, cool waters of the small rivers I had been swimming in. These waters were nowhere near as refreshing.
Taking the turn to Alter, the road got worse, sections needed to be walked.
The most dangerous thing about riding in sand is coming off alongside an oncoming car.
A few occasions saw me drop the bike in the ankle deep loose sand.
On arrival in Alter do Chau, there were people everywhere.
A ride was taken down to the waterfront. It truly was a beautiful spot with the famous sand island teeming with people out the front of the riverside promenade.
They were having their annual festival tonight.
My thoughts immediately turned to lodgings for the night, or lack thereof.
Asking about, most were full and grossly overpriced.
An hour later down a dirt road still within town the Pousada Coracao Verde was spotted.
The owner said he had a room. At 50R a night it was cheap, two nights were booked.
My room was spacious though up one level. Being constructed in timber and brightly painted it had a relaxed feel about it.
A shower was taken in cooling waters.. My airbed was washed alongside me in the shower. It had accrued some mould in the 3 weeks whilst packed.
My sleeping bag also needed a good airing,.
The afternoon was spent meandering around town, people watching .There were people here from all over Brazil.
There were any number of people selling Coconuts to drink, at 3R they were 1R more than those on the road in the small towns.
The internet though available did not work due to the overload of users.
14/9/2014 Alter do Chao
Tour to Comunidade de Jamaraquá
5 hrs in 5m aluminium riverboat
Last night, with all intentions of going to the festival, some food was eaten in the streets. There were thousands of people everywhere in the balmy overly warm evening.
One look at the huge lines to the arena was enough to send me back to the pousada.
Extreme tiredness best describes my feelings at the time. My body and its out of sync, my bowel motions coupled with two 80km+ days in the mid to late thirties had taken its toll.
Earlier a tour had been booked, somewhat reluctantly. I am not a fan of these types of excursions where a thousand people day in and day out have trode the paths, eaten in the houses and asked dumb questions of the guide and worst of all often rudely taken photos of people without asking or with little respect.
However, my curiosity got the better of me, for I wanted to see rubber trees and the sap extraction method.
Also importantly the two other guys coming along, were the kind of people that you instantly took a liking to. Both were in their twenties and long term travellers. One from Israel and the other USA.
We all haggled and got the over priced trip down to just and expensive foray.
As arranged we met at the waterfront at 0830 and headed up the huge rio Tapájos in an open dingy with a 40hp outboard on the back.
The three of us got to know each other on the 3 hr trip.
Itay, the Israeli had been up all night. Mike not so late.
He had just finished his compulsory 3 yr service in the military in Israel, spent some time doing engineering and was now on the move. Some in Angola, so his Portuguese was good. Mike on the other hand, had done a tour in Iraq.
It was so interesting talking about all the ever so different aspects of their lives.
Israelis, many of them travel in SA after the military; do not visit Paraguay in any numbers because of the high Muslim population there.
He also said that Suriname, both Guyanas and Venezuela are a no go zone for many his countrymen because of the same reason.
In La Paz, Bolivia, he said the Bolivianos do not like the Israelis and are very rude to them. As far as tours are concerned in the city. An Israeli company does the guiding.
Incidentily, the Bolivianos are not too keen on people from the US either.
It is nice to see very poor but proud countries like Bolivia, make statements like this and act accordingly. For centuries, they have been exploited both physically and politically.
The book “The Open Veins of South America” tells of this appalling exploitation from artefacts to slave labour in the Peruvian mines and the sugar and rubber industries of Brazil. Almost all the gains were removed from this continent.
Mikes story, about his outfit, whilst on a mission in the food bowl in Northern Iraq was something I find difficult to come to terms with.
They were waiting for three guided missles to arrive from Baghdad, hundreds of miles away. Just like expecting the arrival of a bus at a station.
The first one was remotely controlled to hit the stronghold. The others just followed.
They must have arrived in town like three outlaws used to in a western movie, just casually winging their way in. Modern day outlaws, like their predecessors still causing death and destruction.
He said he was proud to serve his nation, after his tour, he was offered huge money to work for Blackwater. He could not justify this kind of service for any amount of money. Words from his heart, I sensed.
Anyway, that’s the big picture, we got on well and had heaps of laughs.
Included was a walk, snorkelling and most fascinating of all, a canoe trip through the half submerged forest on the shores of the Tapájos river.
An unreal lunch of fresh fish and salad was enjoyed in the great company of a family. A lot of light hearted waffle was discussed around the table.
We were especially stirring Itay who met a nice Brasileira at the festival and was all excited about the content of her return text message about his possible stay at her apartment in Santarém.
The boat trip back was in choppy waters, we got drenched, the water must have been 28 degrees. We disembrked in the dark.
Regardless of the cost it had been an unreal day, sharing our experiences and life styles, intermingled with lots of laughs and light conversation.
Our guides were probably happy to not have had a thousand questions asked of them.
The evening saw us have a few beers over a light meal.
It really had been a day in great company.
Our tour company was Mae Natureza Ecoturismo, the owners were great guys who could speak Español, English and Portuguese.
I would recommend them.
Touring by bicycle, one realises, how much you do intimately see and experience along the way in less than predictable circumstances.
15-16/9/2014 Santarém to Almeirim
Bike and MV Breno
D47, T4, Av13.3, Max57, 32202/6676
Fine and hot, with lovely river breeze
Up early as usual, things were packed and plenty eaten for breakfast. On moving the bike from the room it was found the front tyre was flat. Caesar the owner helped me with it down the cliff like wooden staircase.
The tyre was repaired in leisurely time.
It was an easy ride to Santarém, though there was no shoulder, the traffic was not a problem. Like everywhere I have been in Brazil, the drivers are courteous. As usual tooting from behind if they think they may endanger me as they pass.
To my amazement coming down a gentle hill was another touring cyclist heading to Alter. We both nearly rode past each other, thinking we were each a mirage.
It was so good to have a chat for an hour. Caesar was on his way from Sao Paulo to Colombia and possibly Panama.
I told him about the pousada in Alter which was really good value considering Mike and Itay just had a hammock spot outside for 30R.
Arriving in Santarém my front tyre was pumped up to about 65lbs at a borracharia.
My next move was to the waterfront.
Here I meet Mike and Itay was staying with his lady friend for the night, Mike had a hotel.
We had lunch. I looked about for a hotel but all were with rooms on the 1st floor accessed by ridiculously small narrow staircases.
Two hotels in a row with stairs was not on.
Honorio had text me to say he could catch me tomorrow, as he was out of town on work.
One of the huge advantages of travelling alone now came into play. That of being able to change plans without having to see everyone is happy.
I text Honorio to thank him for his offer and booked the MV Breno to Almeirin on the Amazon River still in Pará. A fifteen hour trip for 70R ($35)
Santarém was a large city, really just a commercial centre. It was bustling, with shops packed in everywhere in the one streets down by the waterfront.
Sadly, grey water was running freely in these streets, all to the lowest point, you guessed it, into the Tapájos and Amazon rivers.
Lately, some of my gear is wearing out, two days ago my riding pants had a small hole in the bum, by the time I got to Alter it was a good job I had underpants on. These were tossed.
My sandals again lost some webbing from the sole. This was glued back in and stitched for added strength .
Once again, this glue proved it worth to be carried. Some cheap nylon loose fitting shorts were bought to replace my Patagonia pants.
The MV Breno left at 1830 from the busy foreshores. Here there was a promenade with people selling kababs, fruit, drinks, ice creams and all manner of accessories like sunglasses.
Tied up, bow to shore was a huge line up of river boats gunwale to gunwale, almost all sporting blue and white.
People were shouldering cargo across the promenade to these vessels.
Each one probably had a tributary or town that it took goods and people to. Waterfronts are great places.
Sitting on the ledge, 3 chickens kebabs were eaten. It was such a pleasure to watch the rivermen at work. The vendor was informed that he made the best chicken kebabs in Brazil!!
The river Tapájos flows on the Santarém side whilst the brown waters of the Amazon can be seen in the distance. Earlier I had swum off some steps on the promenade.
Two old men were bathing and washing themselves in the clear tannin stained warm waters.
Upstream on the shores could be seen the huge Cargill Soya Bean and corn loading facility. This represents the new Amazon basin.
Dockside at the ferry was like something from a movie set, people were singing through PA systems to try and sell their CD’s.
Others were carrying up to four boxes and bags on their shoulders to another large vessel tied up on the other side of the old converted barges that had plate welded on them to provide a pontoon that extended into the river.
Food carts were everywhere.
A guy with his legs bent at the knees hanging over the dock infront of our boat was hand lining and with regularity catching small Paku. Once caught they were released into an onion bag hanging in the brown water.
People lined the three decks dockside, there was lots to watch while we all waited for the final cargo and passengers to be aboard.
On the cargo deck were cars, motos, boxes of fish, fruit, pineapples, and items of machinery.
My ticket included dinner and breakfast.
Once under way we were all told to go to the upper decks as we passed the water authority, once past we were free to wander where we wanted.
Everyone had a hammock and these were slung on the hundreds of hooks on rows, each numbered. The vessel could carry 500 plus people and cargo.
My hammock was slung next to the bike. This was a palace on water compared to the trip to Concepción.
The dinner was filling and a good nights sleep after a shower.
A couple of ports were stopped at overnight. There was quite a bit of river traffic.
In the morning, a breakfast of fruit was supplied with coffee. I was ashore in Almeirim at 0830.
It was an effortless passage, a great sleep was had, a shower, breakfast, disembarking, I felt as fresh as a daisy.
A hotel was booked for the night. Every hotel room stayed in for the last few weeks has had hammock hooks secured to the walls, in earlier times this would have been the standard sleeping arrangement.
The internet is very slow here in Almeirin, I will post more photos as it speeds up nearer the coast maybe.
The old and the new
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Back on Ruta 163 with the great guys from the Soya Express.
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