Parque Nacional da Chapada Diamantina, BRAZIL - 24 september 2002
After breakfast, we left by a road behind the pousada. It was a gentle walk for a long while before we started climbing slowly up slanted rocks amongst the vegetation.
I had wrecked my watch when I got to Utrecht in the Netherlands. So, without a time-piece, I had no idea how long we climbed. In a way, it was good. I just concentrated on taking the next step.
The region was surrounded by mountains with horizontal slates of rocks and thick foliage. We alternated between walking on rocks and cutting through bushes. We passed another group consisting of two guides and four Brazilian ladies with huge backpacks. Soon, we passed another two Brazilian men. They looked like they walked into a trekking shop and told the staff, “We want to go trekking. What do we need to buy?” and proceeded to buy a whole load of gizmos and gears, outfits and gloves, bottles and hats, compasses and more just-in-case gizmos.
Some steep scrambling later, we got to the top of a section with overhanging rock and stopped for lunch and a nap. Awesome view through and through. Straight ahead of me, between two mountains, there was a short length of the horizon all to the way to where the earth curved away.
We walked on for a long time, passing more rivers. The water here was brownish because of the reddish rock mass. We were told the water was safe to drink and so we drank them neat. As we filled up our bottles with the river water, the colour reminded me of urine, ha!
We made our way to a deep plunge-pool and a very pretty waterfall. After all the sweat and tough workout, the pool sure looked inviting. We plunged in, pronto. I swam up to the waterfall and sat behind it. Hmmm… It felt just like sitting in the rain.
The two Brazilian men, I call them Dumb and Dumber, arrived in their flashy, long-sleeved trekking tops and long-pants and gloves. Imagine, their perspiration had no chance of evaporating and cooling down their bodies. They must be really hot now.
But Dumb stripped down into his swim-trunks and climbed gingerly up the rocks to where we were sitting as we dried ourselves. He sat there and considered for a long time, saying that he ‘dared not swim’.
Dared not swim? Hmmm… if he could not swim, he would say he ‘could not swim’. But ‘dared not swim’?? Perhaps, his English was a little wonky. Eventually, he psyched himself up and allowed himself a short swim and scurried back to shore.
Dumber changed into his swim-trunks and just stared blankly at the pool. He never plunged in. Not even a toe went near the pool. Strange.
Brazilian Ladies arrived, in various stages of undress and by the time they reached the pool, their glorious string bikinis were revealed. There was no stopping them.
Pit-stop for that night was under some overhanging rocks, right by the rushing river. All of us, except the guides, slept near the river, under the stars. I felt wonderfully at peace here, lulled by the sound of the gurgling river. It reminded me of the night in Mongolia when Pablo, Goretti, Tina, Jus and I slept by the river.
In the middle of the night, we knew why the guides slept under the overhanging rocks. It rained. In the darkness, we knocked into and tripped over rocks, got a whole foot into water, blundered into walls to resettle ourselves under the overhanging rocks.
Parque Nacional da Chapada Diamantina, BRAZIL - 25 september 2002
No wonder Brazilian Ladies had such huge backpacks. They had something to wear for the night and something different and extremely fashionable to wear for today’s catwalk around the mountains.
The rain continued in the morning. But Crispian reassured us it would stop in an hour’s time. True indeed. Soon, we got our gears together and started rock-hopping.
Bon Jovi was so insightful - Slippery When Wet. The route today involved quite a bit of scrambling, clamouring and balancing on the slippery rocks across the river. Sometimes, there was something to hold on to. Other times, it was a real balancing act. A wrong move, I could slip and smash my skull to smithereens. Moments like these made me wonder why I do such things. One really had to be agile, sure-footed, quick-minded. All the rocks looked slippery - take your pick.
As I made my way precariously on the rocks, strangely, my thoughts went frequently to my teeth. Yeah, I kinda like them. I really do like them a lot. I hope to keep them intact. Then, I remembered my brain. I sorta like to keep that intact too.
We happened upon Dumb and Dumber. Dumber was drenched to the bones. Ooops, he must have done the slipperoo.
We reached our pit-stop pretty soon. There was a group of hippie-sorts and their molls, smoking joints permanently. The dread-locked guys wore woollen Jamaican caps and huge shirts. The glassy-eyed girls pranced around in bikini tops. They greeted Crispian with familiarity. Perhaps they lived out here at the pit-stop.
We left our things and made our way through more slippery rocks on the river and on slippery mud across the forest to reach the Cachoeira da Fumaça. There was a lot of jumping off and climbing up rocks, using upper body strength to yank yourself up.
Unlike the last forest I was at in Manu, Peru, there was no chorus of singing insects in the forest air. Besides mosquitoes, there seemed to be few types of insects in this forest. In a way, it was good. That meant we could grab and tug whatever tree, root, crevice, we needed without fear of armies of fire-ants or other exotics running up our arms. At some precarious points, I even held onto blades of grass, like a life-line. Silly, I know.
We reached the waterfall after 2 hours. I was not so much physically exhausted as mentally exhausted with all the micro-seconds-long decisions of which rock to hop on, how to climb up this huge one, which root to pull, which branch to grab, etc…
All this to see the second-highest waterfall in Brazil. The water seemed to be falling in slow-motion. Compared to its height, it was a mere trickle. The water also appeared to be blown into oblivion about three-quarters of the way down. Sometimes, the water made it to the bottom and we could see bigger splashes. Still, lying on the rocks underneath, it was a satisfying sight.
The chatters of the Brazilian Ladies arrived before they did and stirred us awake. There was not enough room for two groups so Crispian led us back. Along the way, we passed Dumb and Dumber. They again stopped Crispian to ask for directions. Straight ahead, dudes.
Back at our pit-stop, Egor and Carolina found a flat ‘beach’ (no sand here, just a flat piece of rock) by the river, swam and relaxed. I walked down further and found myself a nice spot - another flat, peaceful ‘beach’ with small waterfalls and a big area to swim in and absolutely no one else around. I swam and slept on the rock until it started to turn dark. It was perfect. Just me and my thoughts and nature…
The area below the overhanging rocks was smaller, compared to last night’s pit-stop. With the ladies, the hippies and us, we barely had room to walk around without stepping on one another’s sleeping bags. Yeah, tonight, all of us were wise enough to sleep under the shelter. Night fell by 6pm. There was nothing much to do except to lie down in the darkness and sleep after dinner. Strangely, Dumb and Dumber did not grace this spot with their presence.
Parque Nacional da Chapada Diamantina, BRAZIL - 26 september 2002
Once again, it rained. Unlike yesterday’s rain, however, this one did not let up. It poured and poured and poured. Brazilian Ladies, in yet another set of matching trendy attire, started to crack jokes about Dumb and Dumber as they were currently Missing-In-Actions.
We sat on our mattresses and watched the rain. The ‘cave’ started to flood. I looked at Malte from Germany. His government, recently re-elected too, had some experience fighting against floods in August, hadn’t they? So, could he be so kind to try and stop the flood now, bitte? He scooped some sand and a twig and blocked the area right in front of my feet. Danke.
When I ventured outside for a pee, I was thoroughly shocked by the thunderous river now. The calm and peaceful ‘beaches’ we laid on yesterday were now gone. The rocks we clamoured across had disappeared under the violent cascades. Dumb and Dumber were SO not coming back to this pit-stop. There was no way to cross the river today.
At 12:30pm, Crispian told us we were heading out. The water falling in front of the overhanging rocks, came from the top vegetation and rocks and was accumulated and looked heavy. But, once outside, the rain was actually not that bad by now. We headed up and up today to see the top of Cachoeira da Fumaça.
Rock after rock, step after step, we ascended without stopping. I felt giddy at times and had to stop for drinks. It was really quite difficult for me. Sometimes, I needed a hoist or a push from behind to tackle the huge rocks. Then, after a while, even for simple rocks, I could not process in my head how to handle them. I tottered like a drunk at some point. I tripped over roots or small rocks. No helicopter rescues, honey. I just had to keep trying.
Finally, we petered out onto flatter grounds at the top. We went through grasslands, now marshy and muddy because of the rain. And also, courtesy of the rain, it was foggy everywhere. It felt like walking in the clouds. We squelched through the mud. Sometimes, my entire boot sank deep in and I had to yank it out with effort and without falling unglamourously into the mud.
We came upon the thunderous river that would eventually become the second highest-waterfall in Brazil. I was a wee bit chicken, trying to cross this scary river barefooted. Crispian held my hand and got me across. Now, we came upon the top view of the waterfall we saw yesterday. I had commented it was a mere trickle. Well, it was alpha-male today. It was a loud, booming, voluminous, authoritative, no-nonsense, giant-of-a-waterfall today. It was an amazing sight! Wee-woah!!!!
After a short time admiring it and freezing away, we returned and went through more swamp-lands, even wading through knee-deep water. Finally, we did a quick run-and-hop downhill all the way to Capão, our destination. We arrived, dead-tired and an hour before night-fall. Phew… There was a jeep that drove us back to Lençóis and I could think of nothing except to get out of my clothes and jump into a shower. What an amazing trip!!
Lençóis to Ilhéus, BRAZIL - 27 september 2002
Malte would leave for São Paolo today and Egor, Carolina and I headed to Salvador. I busied myself, reading 100 Years of Solitude on the bus. I had started a tiny bit on the 26-hour bus-ride to Salvador but with the tinted windows, it had been too dark to read. Now, there was good light and I could not put it down. I got through half the book or so by the time I reached Salvador. What a genius story-teller Márquez is!!
When we arrived in Salvador, like my first arrival in Salvador, it was raining cats and dogs. I bought a bus-ticket to Ilhéus, leaving tonight at 10:45pm.
Now, what was a girl, with more than 8 hours to kill, to do in the rain, with the Rodoviária (bus-station) located right next to the huge shopping mall, Iguatemi Shopping? Yes, the girl goes shopping. Well, I have to admit, after about five months of travelling, I was kinda sick of my clothes already and was itching to buy new ones, especially since clothes in Brazil were rather cheap, and not to say, looked pretty and sexy on those Brazilian stunners.
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