Need a bodyguard in the city! No mobile internet here to send off my already written updates…
Dist: 43,2 km
Start: 6:00 End: 13:55
A calm night, nice to pack the tent dry. Rounding the tip of Ilha Itacupim was very shallow with many fishing poles, but easy and no surf at all. If all headlands would be like this!
I crossed over to find the passage between the two islands and the Ilha dos Motas, it looked like the perfect entrance with a boat just coming out, but ended going in a circle and eventually to the right wide channel. Still it became very narrow at times, why can’t they install road signs somewhere ??
I am always happy when I am out in the next bay from one of those crossings, knowing where I am. To reach the narrow river channel leading to Carutapera, I just had to head straight across the wide Rio Gurupi. Then it was relatively easy to follow, watching my path on the GPS chart “just” shifted to the left some centimeters. Still many side channels and I preferred to ask some boats again if this is the way to the city.
It was quite some large place, with a from the distance lovely looking church towering over the city on a hill, but it is a poor city. I didn’t see any reasonable standard house, just wildly built huts and small houses The landing proved to be a challenge at two hours before low tide, as the river banks were steep and muddy. Only one single concrete launching ramp led up the bank, blocked by a larger boat. Sitting dry and ending at a market hall, no good place to be. Most boats were sitting dry on the mud, even while being loaded from some high unreachable jetty.
I paddled on to some fishermen’s private looking “landings”, the best looking one had at least two parallel logs leading more or less safe and dry over the mud. I landed there, balanced uphill and saw myself between some quite simple looking houses, all without own backyard. But there was some grass in the rough looking street, just in front of the hut of an old man. He was the only one to talk to, nice and friendly. He called a woman across the street, maybe his daughter, and they agreed camping on the grassy spot at the end of their street would be safe. I had not many other options…
They were talking about a posada, but to get there I thought was too many effort. I felt allright with that spot, could have a bucket shower with hair wash and some small laundry with the woman, as well as charging my cell phone batteries and ebook. At least they had 24 hrs electricity. But it took a long while and some walk to town to an”expert” to tell me they have no internet connection on the perfect Claro cell phone reception, it was not about my phone. The is quite often found in the Brazilian villages and cities so far, why= No idea. A pity, as I can’t send off my already written updates saved as drafts on my cellphone email.
But I could talk long to Peter, which felt good after only the short sat phone calls. Dozens of locals were meanwhile surrounding my tent, pressing almost their noses on my bugnet. I HATE this! I really need my privacy at some point and can’t entertain each local all afternoon. I went briefly shopping, some stocking up in oats, milkpowder and spaghetti. No fruits available anywhere in the many many tiny shops. But I got help from some local, he also organized one of those 20 liter water bottles brought to me tent. Thanks!
I was posing for about 100 pictures, the cell phone pest also arrived here, before I could eventually retreat in my now fully closed tent. Out of sight, out of mind, you may think? The locals kept on standing around and discusssing me noisily until I once more came out to change my cellphone on charging and said clearly again:Good night!” to everybody…this worked more or less. Still earplugs and sleeeping mask against the street lantern and whoever still talking. City buzz…