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globe-trotters.chDana & Mathias on Tour |
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globe-trotters.chDana & Mathias on Tour |
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We land almost right on the Equatorial Line, in Fortaleza, north-eastern Brazil.
We have a 10 hours delay (thanks TAP Air!), but Anna and Yves, our great friends whom we
planned to join on their sabbatical for a while, are still waiting for us at the airport.
It feels nice to see the old buddies again, well tanned from the South American sun,
cheerful, and full of stories from Argentina and southern Brazil.
We rent a Crossfox (thanks Buschtaxi-Forum for the info!) and drive directly to the beach.
Brazil's coastline is some 7'500 kilometers long. The stretches of the north are among the most striking. Arriving at the shiny beach of Pecem, we know that this kite safari will be exceptional.
The wind is blowing at about 20 nods, just great to warm up the body that spent a lot of time in the office over the last six months.
When the first session is over and the heartbeat has come down, we all take seat by the river running along the endless beach and taste a ceviche. It feels like we are back on a sabbatical. The place is exotic.
Before the sun sets down over the mangrove canopy, we make new friends.
In the white dunes of Paracuru graze cattle and heards of donkeys.
It looks like life has not changed over here for some time. Not quite so. The dunes are moving and the landscape changes a little every day. On their way the dunes do not mind stepping on houses and roads.
Nevertheless, the property prices are still rising.
While the fishermen community goes on living in the traditional way, the secluded village of yesterday has become a pleasent get-away for people from Fortaleza. And an international kiter's mecca.
The wind is constant at 25 nods as if produced by a giant hair dryer. The water is flat and smooth like butter. All tricks work and kiting is pure fun.
With high-tide coming in, the sea swells, but the waves are gentle.
A turtle head pops up at the reef to better judge the kiter's jumps and rotations (;).
In the meantime, the local fishers look for shrimp which will be fried on dende palm oil with garlic and served with coco helado.
A few meters down the beach, the men in black walk in the golden sand, discussing supper.
A few days later, it is the weekend. The beach fills with families from Fortaleza, a 3 million people rich metropolis, which is getting increasingly international.
Meet the daddy and dog from eastern Switzerland, the mum from eastern Brazil, and their energetic baby.
Quite a few outsiders have come to stay in Paracuru for more than a weekend. "We instantly fell in love with this place", say Greg from New York and his wife from Sao Paolo who bought a lodge here. We look out of the window of our room and cannot disagree.
Icarai has a welcoming face.
We sit at the waterfront and look at the menu. Why not wild lobster?
When the giant plate arrives, we know we can barely cope with it. This is wild lobster a la discretion. And it tastes tender and spicy. Icarai is a nirvana for wild lobster lovers!
When we cannot take the pleasure anymore, the owner of the waterfront restaurant offers us the famous and strong Brazilian coffee. We will do this again.
We walk down the streets of Icarai and feel the presidential election approaching.
One evening, we enter the dream of Moitas.
The moonrise is bright, but not bright enough to cover the white ribbon of the milky way. Shadows of harmless clouds run over the soft formations of the Moitas desert. The air gets fresh. We sleep extremely well.
The sunrise shows the full beauty of the special landscape. We walk without noise in a surreal world of softness. The fine sand corns of different colors flow in the breeze, forming dunes, craters, and zen structures.
The kids of the dunes fetch fresh grass from the nearby oasis or walk the cattle to the pasture before it gets hot.
The desert road fills with friendly peasants riding their carts from Moitas over the beach to Icarai.
We join the traffic with the kites. Moitas is a dream.
On the bank of Rio Aracatiacu, our kite safari becomes adventurous.
Almofala is the traditional land of the indigenous Tremembe people. They number about 3'500 people, grouped in 500 families scattered over 20 or so villages.
We are well 30 kilometers in the interior but the roads between the villages are sandy. Between 1898 and 1945, these villages were covered by dunes! The Tremembe had to flee to the neighbouring areas. Unfortunately, when the sand invasion receded and the villages re-emerged, another invasion began; that of foreign merchants and landowners (gente de fora), who built brick houses.
Despite threats, the Tremembe did not abandon their traditions such as their ritual the Torem. In 1992, after years of humiliation and fear, the Tremembe were recognized by the FUNAI (National Indian Foundation) as indigenous people. The FUNAI initiated a process to help the indigenous to get their land back. All that remains to be done is to get a demarcation order, signed by the Minister of Justice..
Defying history, Tremembe people today are still river and sea fishermen and divers. Hunting small game is also part of the tradition. Tremembe grow cassava to produce their own flour. They also gather fruit. The main fruit is caju, from which they make the sacred drink, the mocororo, which is served during the Torem.
We are deep in the Tremembe country but the fishermen lagoons remind us of Sweden.
The sandy roads end in Cruz.
After a strong cup of Brazilian coffee, we drink guarana, extracted from the red fruit of the guarana bush, a native plant of the Amazon.
The Satere-Mawe Indians were the ones who discovered the physiotherapeutic virtues of the plant a long time ago. Today, the Satere-Mawe sell some six tons of guarana powder worldwide.. We just have some of it, but start to feel like dragons.
We also try a small and sour guiabo fruit from the Amazon that has 30 times more vitamin C than an orange! We also taste Amazonian peach palm hearts that have more proteins than manioc..
After this Obelix cure, the kite sessions at Prea turn out a bit bumpy. But we will remember Prea for something else. At sunset, full of heavenly energy but hungry, we decide to go out for seafood a la discretion. But because driving on the beach in Prea was a bit like swimming in the ocean, we take the interior road where the sand seems to be less deep. An energetic step on the gaz pedal sends our Crossfox flying. When we start to really enjoy the ride, the road suddenly disappears!!! "Where is the road, where is the road", I hear myself saying. But all I can see is a huge dune in front of us. We dive the car straight into it..
Behind, we see Yves and Anna's Toyota to deviate right, into a smaller...dune.
We know there is a road behind the smaller dune. A bit less pressure in the tires, and the Toyota makes it to the top of the smaller dune. Back to Crossfox. Now it is the time to test the Toyota's winch. We play dogs and liberate the Crossfox from its sandy grave.
The Crossfox makes it out of the big dune, but the real trouble is to get the sturdy donkey up the smaller dune. Now it is time for creativity and team work. Anna tries not to drain too much of the Toyota's battery with the winch. I steer the Crossfox from the outside through the open window, we want as little weight on the donkey as possible. The boys play curling in front of the Crossfox' tires, liberating them from the sand as the donkey moves up the dune (are we there yet??). After an hour of fun, we made it! Toyota's winch is ready for the Amazonas.
That is not all. Driving down the dune is an easy task, but there is deep sand before the lost road re-emerges. We dive straight into it. This time the locals help us to play the dog and liberate the Crossfox from its grave. For a while, it seems like the Toyota got tired and cannot take the little brother anymore. We put the carpets from the car under the tires. An energetic step on the gaz pedal, and we get traction just when Anna proposes to have some pasta and kitepirinha on the beach and continue with the fun tomorrow. The Toyota drags the donkey all the way to the restaurant. We deserve a Camel Trophey. By the time we arrive, the restaurant has closed.
But it opens especially for us. We eat and drink like a gang of Obelix's.
Our 15 kilometers kite-ride out of the dunes of Jeri ends in the tropical paradise.
Hippocampus means "sea monster" in Greek. Indeed, seahorses are voracious predators, relying entirely on moving food. They are opportunitistic predators, sitting and waiting until prey come close enough to be sucked. The sea monster's eyes move independently of each other, maximizing search areas. They will ingest anything small enough to fit into their mouths, mostly small crustacea, but also fish fry and other invertebrates.
Adult seahorses are presumed to have few predators due to excellent camouflage, a sedentary life style, and unappetizing bony plates and spines. But they have been found in stomachs of fish, rays, penguins, water birds and even a loggerhead sea turtle, often having been eaten accidentally. For some populations of seahorses, human beings are the greatest predator.
Information obtained during extensive field interviews in Asia, in combination with the few published Customs statistics available, indicate that the total global consumption of seahorses was at least 25 million seahorses in 2001 (more than 70 metric tonnes). Although the largest users are in Asia, many nations outside Asia also import dried seahorses for medicines and curios. In addition, the aquarium trade absorbs hundreds of thousands of live seahorses around the globe..
Well, at least the fishers of Guriu are no threat to the hyppos. Here, the seahorses hold on the mangrove roots and happily multiplicate.
The male seahorse, rather than the female, becomes pregnant. This unusual mode of reproduction is the most extreme form of male parental care yet discovered.
Pregnancy lasts between two and four weeks, which is not too much trouble anyways. At the end of gestation the male goes into labour (usually at night), pumping and thrusting for hours to release his brood. Young are miniature adult seahorses, independent from birth, and receive no further parental care.
Most species of seahorses are monogamous, forming pair bonds that last the entire breeding season (!). Pair bonds are reinforced by daily greetings in which the female and male change colour and promenade and pirouette together. This dance (trance?) lasts several minutes, and then they separate for the rest of the day. The greetings occur throughout the male pregnancy, and are even thought to ensure that the male and female are ready to re-mate at the same time.
The marine life thrives in the 27 degrees Celsius warm waters. Guriu is also a fisher's paradise.
Guriu is also the kiter's paradise.
Big cats also like it here at night.
The interior of northeastern Brazil is mostly covered by Caatinga, an endemic thorn forest.
The small thorny trees shed their leaves over the dry season giving the landscape a desert look. Caatinga is a Tupi word for "white forest", which, seen from distance is not far from reality.
However, at closer inspection, there are dots of color all over the vast white forest: flowering bushes, cacti, and bromelia.
From time to time, one stumbles upon a beautiful tree towering above the neighbours, the Pau d'Arco Amarello.
Caatinga is inhabited by nice birds, small rodents, lizards, snakes, and other animals that can survive on little water, including several endangered macaw species.
For humans, the arid Caatinga is a hard place to make out a living. Periodic droughts are devastating for small farmers who exist barely above subsistance level. In certain places, it does not rain a single drop during two years' time. Thus, the people of the sertao live on goats, chicken, faith, but also state-funded schemes to stem migration.
In other places, the Caatinga is very fertile and produces delicious grapes, papayas and melons. Life is easier around lagoons.
Climbing an old cobbled (!) towards the city of Vicosa, the ambiance is a pleasent mix of automn colors and summer temperature.
The colonial city of Vicosa is one of the oldest of Brazil. The landlords producing cattle for the huge sugarcane plantations built nice houses here. After competition killed off the sugarcane trade, the city went into decline.
Today, Vicosa is reviving again, as a refreshing summer residence, as a tourist destination, and as a political, spiritual, and cultural center of the montanious region of Ibiapaba.
On the flattest spot of the whole mountain range lies a football field.
The Brazilians start to run young (:).
Rocky savanna.
