Објавено: 17.12.2018
17.12.
... and then a red dirt road bares its teeth.
my faithful companion over thousands of kilometers - the BR 364 and transoceanica - calls it a day. without warning. out of the blue.
I would have loved to see my surprised and puzzled face.
I can't believe it and venture into the red wilderness, a shady alley that whispers: go on. it's nice and cool here!
I follow its call, but after a few meters I already hear the protests of the wasps: this won't work. we're just wobbling around here. I'm about to slide with the rear wheel and fall flat. you alone won't get me back on my feet here!
she's right. the dust we're dealing with here is almost powder snow quality. maybe an exaggeration. but its effect is that the wasps are no longer easy to control. they stray. at most we would reach a speed of 10 to 20 km/h. NO GO !!! and no sign indicating if it's just a short distance..
there is no plan B. the navigation is unreadable. the sun is too high. I turn around and go back to the roundabout on a - what I believe to be - well-paved and pothole-free BR364. but going back is not an option either, because I came from a different direction...
I remember passing a small town just a few kilometers ago. I drive there, find a place with wifi and take care of my orientation.
resting place for orientation
I don't have to drive far, there is a small cantina at the roundabout that even has wifi. the puzzle is quickly solved after an ice-cold coke. I simply took the wrong exit at the roundabout. it was not the 364 that let me down, but the 154. lucky me. what would have happened if...?
from sao simao, the BR 364 shows its best side. both in terms of quality and traffic. only a few trucks.
a hilly landscape with forests, meadows and agriculture. I have been on the road since 09:00 am today. the sun still casts long shadows. lighting and colors have a different intensity than in the late morning light. I am surrounded by lush green on rust red ground. the red soil that shines through everywhere or has just been freshly plowed. a fertile land that may still benefit from the rio paranaiba. I come across high plateaus that allow me to see to the horizon. no monocultures or endless herds of cattle dominate the picture, but a naturally grown nature.
endless expanses
I also see poverty. for several kilometers, the road is lined with tent houses that cower under the shade-giving trees. no windows, no signs of life. no visible vegetable gardens. only poverty and improvisation.
I keep my gaze straight ahead. the people who live and work there also have their dignity and do not want to be gawked at by gringos.
the dust road adventure has messed up my timing. now the buffets in the cantinas are empty. now I have to hold out until tonight.
I seem to be passing through a pineapple area, as suddenly I see one pineapple seller after another by the roadside.
a good idea! I find a place to safely park the wasps from the now increased traffic. a gust of wind pushed by the trucks can knock the wasps down if they are not stable.
I ask for pineapple juice. he doesn't have any. so I decide to get the fruit and he hands it to me filleted. freshly harvested. I quickly learn how to peel pineapples. I used to always slice them and then remove the skin. he peels them vertically from top to bottom. it's faster and there's less waste. I even have room for a second one.
what surprises me during my drive is that this big city called barretos is not signposted. maybe because the states only signpost their own cities?
the navigation is unreadable. but I know that there are also other road numbers on the BR 364. and that doesn't make it any easier. and at some point it is no longer signposted, even though there has been no intersection. but apparently there was. I cross the rio grande and think to myself that it can't be far to colombia, my destination for today. but then I realize during a fuel stop that I have ended up about 80 km downstream. there was a junction. I must have missed it, even though I knew it was expected in the next few minutes.
the navigation tells me that there are still 160 km to barretos.
what's wrong with changing my plan? it doesn't have to be colombia. I can just as well stay here for the night.
the current has strength
a hotel looks enticing. done. 25 euros for the night. and it lives up to its promise. I have a room with a veranda and a view of the rio grande!
there is a restaurant that opens at 8 pm.
tomorrow, I will bypass barretos extensively.
I have reached the state of sao paulo.
there may be a small problem: all reserve tanks are empty. there are about 7 liters left in the main tank.
so tomorrow I should find a gas station right away.
two not so popular guests have made themselves comfortable in the toilet bowl. one of them apparently didn't make it and fell victim to my reflex action: flushing. the other - both extraordinarily talented spring frogs - found their way onto the shower wall. a few hours later, the comrade sacrificed to the toilet flush has recovered and hidden itself in such a way that it had to go the earthly way a second time...
its emergency exit is the gap between the door and the frame. the spring frogs won't fit through there. only a gecko...
dinner at the local hotel restaurant was a culinary surprise!