(*More pictures to come when I have better internet!*)
We are now a week into our overlanding adventure and it’s been a baptism of fire! While we were lulled into a false sense of security by two nights in the beautiful coastal town Paraty (more on that later), the three nights and three long drive days that followed was our proper induction into overlanding life.
What is typical overlanding life?
- Drive days that last between 8-10 hours
- Pulling over on the side of the road for pee-breaks (and learning to overcome squatting fear for girls – watch out for spiders!)
- Becoming way too well acquainted with the affectionately known ‘shit shovel’
- Sharing close quarters with 25 people who have not showered for 3 days
- 25 people who are also covered in DEET thanks to all manner of biting, flying insects (this one probably unique to this part of the world!)
- Eating whatever the cook group manages to scrounge together for you (normally pretty delicious despite catering for multiple food preferences, gluggy spaghetti and lack of ingredients!)
- Deciding whether to pitch your tent on a sand pit, ant hills, cow dung or stones
- Doing all this in the sweltering heat and high humidity
Good times. And I’m not even being sarcastic! It is good times. It’s not for everybody (at some points, I wondered it if it was for me). Yet nothing bonds a group together quite like bushcamps, and we were well stocked with beers and plenty of good, hearty food to keep us going. Long drive days are broken up with intense games of mafia, naps, lots of reading and even more writing (that last one reserved for me and the diarists!). I’ve blitzed through The Lie Tree by Frances Hardinge (so fantastic), How They Met, and other stories by David Levithan (which I read on Valentine’s Day – perfect) and Code Name: Verity (very different to what I expected and much older, but had me tearing up at the end). The nights tend to be short – early to bed and early to rise. The bushcamps vary: the first night, we attempted to pull into a campsite but had to camp outside instead (the campsite was actually a nudist retreat – only three days into the trip, we weren’t quite ready for that much openness!); the second night, we camped near what smelled much like a sewage treatment plant (by far the least pleasant stop); and the third night, we suffered a disaster by being kicked out of our first site by locals – only to find paradise in the form of a campsite in a stunning, Jurassic Park-like landscape with ACTUAL showers and ACTUAL toiletseats. True-to-goodness bliss.
And that’s probably the best part about bushcamping on those long journeys: it makes the destinations so much sweeter.
Take Paraty, our first stop after Rio – and our slice of paradise before the bushcamping began. It’s an absolutely stunning old colonial town and world heritage site with cobblestone streets, cute churches and wall-to-wall cachaça stores (that’s the alcohol that fuels the decidedly lethal caipirinhas).
After exploring the town, we climbed aboard a boat for a little exploration of the little islands and beaches dotted along the coastline. Now this was truly amazing. The water was beautiful and teeming with fish. The sun shone brightly (so much so, many people got burned… including Lofty, who won the first ever truck ‘numpty’ award for his ‘interesting’ suntan marks). We had a yummy lunch and spent the day swimming and sunbathing and sipping cocktails. Not too shabby for a bunch of soon-to-be-shabby overlanders.
But the reason for all the drive days that followed? The Pantanal – the world’s largest swamp. Sounds pleasant, doesn’t it? Despite the reputation, it was magic. But more on that in the next blog post…