Driving to Serro: Unplugged

The lady in the tourist office was extremely polite. She came with so many suggestions that it was impossible to fit them all in my tight schedule.
"Come with me", she said, "I'll show you things from the balcony", and she headed the way on the staircase, through a WC, an improvised kitchen, while I was rather concentrated to her generous behind swinging like a pendulum as she went up.

"This is the road of the slaves", she said, showing me some place on the mountain.
"Right", I said, still shaking. “But can I take the dirt road to Serro? What are the odds that I will make it there by evening with my car?” I asked.
“What kind of car do you have?”, she asked.
“A Fiat Vivace,” I said.
“No problem!”, she said, without hesitation. “And in any case, there is “support” in between”, she added. “In case you want to have some coffee, or water”.
And this is when I should have suspected that this is a bit weird. Support for water? What is this, the Far West? And yet instead of changing plans I directly imagined myself in an old hacienda, in a hammock under leafy palm trees, sipping caipirinhas and exotic juices as aperitif, right before having a home made lunch baked in banana leaves.

I had been watching a bit too many travel series unfortunately.

The road very quickly turned to red dust, then to red dust with holes in it, and eventually to some red dust with rocks and potholes. But the more difficult it became to drive, the more the scenery became glorious. And Far West it was! Of the Brazilian kind, but still of stunning beauty. The only problem was the Casserole, that played music almost all the way, except when I stopped for a picture, a wee or to have some water.

And soon there was no more water. It got pretty warm, and there was no “support” in sight. During more than half a day I crossed just one car, and the hacienda I had imagined was there, but it was locked. There go my espressos, my caipirinhas and my copious lunch, I soon understood... Just some stolen biscuits from breakfast. But even if the hacienda was open, given my average speed of around 5km/h I could not have stopped: I had to keep on driving to reach Serro before dark.

Pics ans Postcards

Film: a 360 degree glimpse of the scenery

Next: Sao Gonçalo: in the edge of nowhere