Publisearre: 26.11.2018
25.11.:
I keep waking up - curious to hear if the rain has stopped. Then I turn around again and prepare for a wet ride.
Breakfast is served from 06:00 am. I want to leave early today. Nothing can interrupt my schedule anymore.
The Brazilian breakfast is the complete opposite. Why are breakfast habits so different? What sets the Peruvian apart from the Brazilian? They also have to get up early, go to the market or work, but they prefer freshly squeezed juices, different types of cake, sliced fruit, and slices of white bread with cheese and ham, toasted in a sandwich toaster and stacked on top of each other. That's how the breakfast buffet looks like here, and it's also how we were spoiled on a trip with Nora, Gabi, and Tillmann.
It takes time until I have packed my things in plastic bags and stored them back in my backpack, the Ortlieb bag, and the side panniers. Now nothing can go wrong anymore. It can rain as much as it wants. It just shouldn't thunder.
The sky is cloudy but dry. It can't have been long because the road still has wet spots. I wonder how long this dry period will last?
Rio Branco is signposted with 225 km. If the drive is like yesterday, if the road conditions are like yesterday, I probably won't make it. But there is another place called Xapuri, which is only 100 km away.
Driving is fun. The road is much better. It remains dry and cloudy. Outside temperature is 29 degrees. And very little traffic. And the landscape is just like yesterday. I didn't imagine the Amazon like this. If it weren't for the palm trees on the horizon, if there weren't the black and brown cows, this could also be Ireland. The road is perfect for cycling. A gentle uphill, corresponding downhill slopes, and no trucks or cars pushing the cyclist off the road. Only the tropical heat speaks against it.
In the Andes, I met two students from Cologne who braved the heat and found out that it is better to ride in cold weather than in tropical heat. You can always put on more clothes, but taking them off? Eventually, you can't. Especially because of the strong sunlight.
I see signs pointing to Xapuri. I notice that the name Chico Mendes is mentioned more frequently in this area. I know the name, but I can't place him. Wipe helps.
He was active in the agricultural workers' union in Acre and advocated for the rights of rubber tappers. He was also the one who fought against their land seizure. He was murdered by large landowners at the age of 44 in the late 1980s.
A termite hill
In Capixaba, I make a fuel stop. I only want to fill up with 90 octane gasoline. There is no indication on the fuel pumps. I ask the gas station attendant. He doesn't know what octane means. With the help of Smarties and AldiTalk - I still don't have a local SIM card - we find out that only Petrobras has the desired type. Both of them are very helpful and try to help me, so maybe I can do them a favor.
I give them five liters of good 90-octane gasoline - filled up in Inapari yesterday. Why? Because in the reserve canister, there was the vent hose through which water entered during the continuous rain. Water in the float chamber causes jerking. I don't want to subject the Vespa and myself to that. So now I have an empty canister again, a vent hose that is now closed, and the gas station attendant has 5 liters of gasoline that he can sell well. The engines here are more robust.
Just before Rio Branco, I pull over to the right again. There is a familiar Sunday atmosphere here. Men drinking beer - an unusual sight. There is soccer playing. I allow myself to disturb the concentrated silence and also ask if I can pay with soles? No. Can I pay with Visa? No.
My stomach growls.
On the other side of the square, I find a kind of restaurant. The owner is sitting at the table with her guests. She also has to answer my questions with two no's.
But then she gets up and gestures for me to follow her. A few meters away, she also runs a snack bar. Delicious empanadas are waiting there. I tell her that I don't have Brazilian currency. She doesn't want any money. She wants to give it to me. It's self-baked! And she also gives me ice-cold fruit juice. A little later, her daughter comes, who has a child of about 5 years old.
The mother - I estimate her to be in her mid-20s - is overweight and also feeds herself and her daughter with chips and a soft drink.
The little one is already showing the first signs of obesity. My benefactor has set an example for the two previous generations.
Rio Branco is located on the Acre River and is divided into two parts by it. Around 320 thousand people live here. Mostly from tourism, as this is the launching pad for the more remote areas of the Amazon region. The Interoceanic Highway is problematic again. It is partially four lanes, but the right lane is barely passable. The traffic has increased. Brazilians drive faster, motorcyclists are more aggressive. It's no fun. Now that the driving wind is gone, it's decisively too hot in my rain protection gear. But I have to persevere. The next hostel or hotel can't be far. I instinctively head towards the center, but I can't find the desired plaza. iOverlander is supposed to help. The service that offers hostels with a garage for self-drivers. There is supposed to be one just 600 meters from my current location. One-way streets and getting lost take me further away. I turn back and at a traffic light, a motorcyclist cuts in front of me, almost causing me to lose control of the Vespa. I honk and curse at him. He turns around and shrugs apologetically.
Sky and landscape as far as the eye can see
And then the navigation system says that it's only a few meters away, and I'm already standing in front of the hostel. I am completely drenched, but I have to hear from the receptionist that there are no more parking spaces available. The courtyard, which apparently was still available as a secure parking lot in 2016 - that was the last entry in iOverlander - is now used for something else.
And then I see the Nobel Suiite Hotel. A high-rise building with a parking garage. Everything looks business-style chic and expensive. I'm not ready for any more experiments, so I park the Vespa in front of the entrance and enter the air-conditioned lobby. If I have to stay in such a hotel, at least the receptionists should speak English. I don't have the energy to speak Spanish and understand Brazilian anymore. But the somewhat snobbish-looking employee denies it in a matter-of-fact manner that is simply foreign to us Europeans and offers Spanish instead. Yesterday, I learned that the second foreign language taught in schools is Spanish, and only then is English offered.
The price is equivalent to just under 40 euros with breakfast and parking garage for the Vespa.
I am in my room by 4:30 pm, and there is nothing to complain about. There is even hot water for showering. And that in the Amazon region!
For dinner, I treat myself to a vegetarian pizza. It was difficult to find a restaurant. This neighborhood has more of an industrial area atmosphere.
I'm looking forward to manageable villages with their plazas - without the sound from the nearest bar...