Brazil (part 2)


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South America » Brazil » Amazonas
August 24th 2010
Published: September 20th 2010
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From Tabatinga (or Leticia...where ever I am!), I hop on a 4 day boat destined for Manaus in the heartland of the Brazilian Amazon. Accommodation is basic; in readiness I had bought a hammock in Bolivia which is now my home for three nights. The boat doesn´t live up to the scare stories I´d read in books and heard from travellers; the boat is clean and tidy and the food is very good. The only scary moment is the visits of the Brazilian police who have a intimidating presence about them both at the tri border region and whilst paying random visits on the boat with their sniffer dogs.

Perhaps the most dissapointing aspect of the boat journey is how devegtated the banks of the Amazon have become, thus resulting in very few sights of any wildlife (mainly restricted to the odd bird). The only other wildlife we see are some huge fish which local fishermen try to sell to the boat whilst we stop at the many ports en route. In all, it´s not the romantic experience you envisage whilst dreaming about the mysterious Amazon; the days pass with monotony which is only broken by having a drink or two with fellow passengers (including two French artists who were to construct a floating house of plastic bottles and have it photographed by the European Space Agency at the tri border region of Columbia, Brazil and Peru!)

Given its location in the middle of the Amazon, Manaus has a frightently high population approaching 2 million. Its allure at the middle of the Amazon is perhaps why many travellers head here; the reality, however, is pretty unromantic. Manaus´ urban landscape is generally unnattractive save for some refurbished colonial building arond the Teatro Amazonas. The Teatro itself isn´t off the highest quality; however, its quality within is very impressive with all products being transported from Europe except for wood (English cast iron and plaster, French crystal and velvet, Italian painting and marble and, incredibly, acoustic wood from Lithuania!). I´m lucky enough to be present at the Philharmonic Orchestra performing a free night (they played the song from the Hovis advert; I´m so cultured!) The Teatro was built in 1896 after 15 years of construction and, it states within, ´is a symbol of pomp and economic apogee. It is a landmark of the socio-cultural history of the State of Amazonas´. I have no reason to dispute this but I´m not one to celebrate this ´achievement´as it no doubt contributed to the continued decline of something natural which man cannot replicate - the rainforest.

From Manaus, I catch another boat - with my hammock in tow - destined for Santarem. Again the scenery is nothing special - the further east you head on the Amazon the more developed the banks become. Santarem is equally as unromantic as Manaus; it´s harbour is dominated by an industrial conveyor belt system assisting in the transportation of goods onto large cargo ships. Even within Santarem, there is very little to do and so only stay one night. However, the main reason for stopping in Santarem is that it is the last main town before Alter do Chao.

Many have described Alter do Chao as the Carribean of the Amazon - I can see why. The small town sits at the point of where Lago Verde meets the Tapajós River. A sandbar directly in front of the town forms a picturesque white-sand island, known as Ilha do Amor (Island of Love) and captures an ideal picture postcard moment. Lago Verde provides excellent opportunities to explore and so I decide to hire a local boat with some other travellers and head out into the ´sunken forests´i.e. where the wet season waters have submerged the trees and vegetation. It creates an eerie scene with unknowns as to what might lurk beneath. However, the skipper of our boat had urged us to snorkle so we dive in encountering angel fish, a baby piraracu (these are monsters when fully grown up to 2.5 metres), electric eels and even piranhas (fortunately the non aggressive variety!) Much to our skippers dissapointment we didn´t see any anacondas! I also head into the FLONA National Park; this doesnt provide for wildlife veiwing on par with the Peruvian Amazon but is an enjoyable hike to see some of the huge sumayana trees. Also, the heat and humidity is almost unbearable, I don´t think I´ve ever sweated so much in my life!

Unbelievably, one of the fellow travellers at Albergue de Florista (a great little hostel set almogst thick vegetation, using your hammock to sleep beneath woven palm leaves) is training for the Jungle Marathon in October; this being one of the ultra marathon events being a staggering 200km in 6 stages. Trust me, the weather is not condusive to such feats! The runner is a really interesting guy who had spent a number of years in the Danish SAS and was one of the frogmen on Greenland. All the marathon runners are apparently stick thin whereas he is built like a tank. A couple of weeks after this event he flies to Oman for desert extreme marathon then onto Chile for an altitude extreme marathon. After this he intends to run the North Pole extreme marathon which he says is the last on the world for him to complete!

In addition to celebrating my birthday in style, the other reason for visiting Alter do Chao is for the annual Festa do Caire. This is a local folklore festival, which even after many explanations I still do not fully understand what it symbolises. It seems to revolve around a guy in a white suit who apparently took advantage of a local Amerindian woman which then somehow gave rise to a pink and a grey dolphin. I think there might be a missing link somewhere! Anyway, the festival is quite a large event for such a small place; row after row of palm leave huts (mainly selling booze - Brazilians certinly like to drink!) aside a large display area surrounded by stages. The main event over the weekend is the competition between the pink and grey dolphin teams and includes great numbers of synchronised dancers together with the use of huge moving models (dragons, mermaids etc) that parade the main square. Despite the festival being in such a small place, it wouldnt look out of place in one of the many great Sambodrones such as Rio. The colours, music and people create a great party atmosphere into the early hours.

After saying my goodbyes to the friends at Albergue, I catch another boat east destined for Macapa. The journey is memorable for a thunderstorm which we fortunately avoid. The skipper advises that it is a silent thunderstorm and rarely occurs; whilst there is no thunder, the lightning illuminates the entire area (check out the photographs on facebook). It is not truly known why it occurs but is similar to where the Rio Catatumbo meets the Lago de Meracambo in Venezuela; it is thought that the Venezuelan occurance is attributable to the dramatic configuration of cold winds from the 5000m Andes and the evaporating sea level producing ionisation of air particles which then creates lightning. However, no such geography exists at the mouths of the Amazon so it is unknown why there is no thunder.

I arrive into the port of Santana at 2.30am and catch a cab to Macapa in readiness for the following days coach to the French Guiana border. Macapa is of little interest alhtough I do have time to visit the Fortaleza de Sao Jose de Macapa; built between 1764 and 1782 to defend against French incursions from the Guianas. The fort is predominantly made of brick and thus has a modern appearance and is laid out in the shape of a star to aid the observation of incoming forces. The visit is only brief as I have to hop on the coach for Oipoque on the border. However, one hour into the journey the coach breaks down; 2.5 hours later the recovery bus arrives but fails to repair the bus after an hours attempts so we head back to Macapa only the recovery bus to then break down! Fortunately it does start again after an hour but only after we pushed it down the highway, which then required us to jump on through the passenger door whilst it was moving! So, a 12 hour journey turns into a 22 hour journey. Hence, my arrival into Oipoque is a grumpy one which is befitting of the unsightly town. I decide to book into a grotty hotel for some much needed sleep before crossing tomorrow into French Guiana; this forming the beginning of my next blog.

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