Even we can’t beat this slow pace: 1300 kilometers in 7 months; an average of 6 kms/day. Yet, even if they wanted to, these people couldn’t travel any faster, for you see, these 9 tropeiros and 1 woman have to lead 1376 cows from the breeder to their new owner. Continue reading
I love Brazilian coffee. There’s obviously the taste, strong but not bitter and incredibly sweet, but it’s the serving of Brazilian coffee makes me smile: in minuscule cups. I appreciate something small and excellent, like Meu Doce Pará cookies that are smaller than the tip of my pink. Continue reading
Meet Viktor, his wife Jacqueline, their daughter Isabella and their cookie business Meu Doce Pará. They make a living by baking and selling minuscule cookies, of which the baking is done in a small kitchen of their apartment. Continue reading
A forest is hardly ever silent. The soothing sounds of humming insects and scurrying lizards or other small animals, or the rustling of leaves brings a peace of mind that slows me down and makes me aware of my surroundings: Continue reading
One of South America’s great features is its wildlife. Not only can you see animals often and at many different locations, at some places you can touch them, caress them, connect with them. Here are some of my favorite places to connect with wildlife in South America: Continue reading
“Just throw it away,” I instruct Coen whenever he returns with yet another gadget he received at a workshop.
“No, I’m sure I can make somebody happy with it,” he will answer.
So, there you have it, the two solutions: Throw it away, or Give it away.
If it were so simple, I wouldn’t be writing this blog post. Continue reading
“You know, for me, this is what travel is about.”
“What?” I asked. Is it the sunset? The rough camping on this white beach of the Tapajós River? Is he looking at some birds? Enjoying his cup of coffee? I wondered. Continue reading
The Brazilian dish called maniçoba is poisonous unless it has been cooked for at least 3 days. This intriguing fact demanded further investigation. Continue reading
At 10-15 kms/hour the Land Cruiser crawls through potholes, jolts over bumps and carefully drives onto wooden constructions called bridges. Hour after hour, day after day we drive at a turtle’s pace. This is the main highway between Manaus and Porto Velho, in the heart of the Brazilian Amazon: the infamous, 800 km-long BR319 of which we’ve heard nothing but horror stories. Continue reading
We arrived in Manaus with a list of places I wanted to visit, but Providence ruled differently. In the past I might have had a fit. I had made a list, damn it, and we were going to stick to it. We had to visit these places. After all, wasn’t that what Manaus was about? The rubber boom, historic buildings, the Amazon Theater, parks with wildlife among which an endemic monkey, the Meeting of the Waters, the surrounding Amazon rainforest and indigenous villages? Continue reading