Oh What A Beautiful Morning!

Wednesday 7 March

Why do we make decisions that we know later we will question – such as “Do we want to get up at 04.15 to see the sunrise?” “Of course” we answer – “can’t come to the Pantanal and not see the sunrise!” But when that alarm goes off and it is still dark, one wonders if it is worth it.

We left at 05.00 in the boat, retracing our route down the Rio Negro once more. Light was just beginning to filter through on the horizon and the first birds were winging their way along the river, calling - to get their mates to wake up I suppose. It is amazing to think that there are no people for miles around, other than those who live on the farm, and the four of us in the boat. This sky this morning was quite cloudy – the first time for ages it hasn’t been just a blanket of blue – some quite dark indigo, others just a light shade of grey. We hoped that these would not obscure our view of the sun.

We ducked under the bridge and then floated gently downstream for about ten minutes. The sky behind us was getting lighter all the time. Lico gently paddled the boat to turn round, and steered us to an area of still water, from where we could watch the horizon. We could just see some orange light behind the trees, making outlines like black silhouettes along the far reaches of the river. The dust in the clouds exaggerates the colours and within a few minutes the edges of the clouds had changed to shades of pink and lilac, while the centre of the scene became an even deeper hue of orange. It was surprising how fast the sun moved up from the horizon and how the reflection on the water kept elongating, the higher it went into the sky. Within ten minutes the whole ball of the sun was visible – still flaming orange, while all the clouds around were suffused with coloured light. Within another ten minutes the sun was disappearing behind the first layer of cloud, and bright white beams shone through the cracks and holes in the clouds, which were so bright they were dangerous to look at – like the effect of an eclipse of the sun. And then it was morning – the sky had lightened and much of the cloud was diffusing under the heat of the sun. By the time we reached the farm, the sky was clear and blue, just like usual. In fact, by 09.00 the air seemed exceedingly hot and humid and everyone was dripping – was this the portent of rain, or just a very hot day.

Breakfast was waiting and very welcome after our exploits – it seemed much later than 07.00. We had time to finish collecting our belongings together and take a few last photos, before the plane – the same Cezna as we came here in - arrived to take us on to our next destination in the Pantanal. Ariane and Valeria were both returning with the pilot to Aquidauana, before traveling on to Campo Grande – Ariane to work and Valeria for a week’s vacation, before the next guests arrive. The pilot pushed and shoved the luggage into the tail of the plane again, as with the extra passenger, there was even less room for any cargo. But eventually it was all stowed and we climbed into the small aircraft – me in front again, followed by Ariane and Colin, and then Valeria in the back seat. We trundled up the grassy strip so that we were facing the right direction for take off, and then whoosh, the wheels sped along and suddenly we were airborne. The pilot had to wheel round sharply as the Caiman Lodge where we were headed, was in the opposite direction. The flight only lasted about twenty minutes before we were landing down on an identical grass strip, but this time near a large lake. We could see red roofed buildings in the distance across the lake, which were the visitor lodgings, while the buildings on our side of the lake belonged to the staff. The lake was crossed by a long wooden bridge, with earth on the road surface, which was built with British help in the 1960’s. We were met by Thiago who would guide us later today and a lady – who turned out to be the manager of the centre. They told us not to worry about the luggage as it would be brought to our rooms. We were driven across the bridge to Reception.

The Caiman Lodge is an altogether much more professional establishment than Rio Negro. The fazenda now covers nearly 53,000 hectares, but when it was first established, back in the late 1800’s, it covered over 250,000 hectares, and reached from the Amazon basin right down to the south of Brazil. It is now owned by one man, a Brazilian, who brought it from a British consortium in the 1970’s, when economic times back home were hard. It is still a cattle ranch with 30,000 head of Brahmin cattle, and a staff of around 160 – mostly cowboys involved with looking after the cattle, but twenty or so running the tourist operation.

The eleven rooms are on the two long sides of the swimming pool and gazebo, while the dining room and lounge stretch across the top end. The final side leads to a large courtyard where there is a separate bar and barbeque area, and two huge double beds, under a straw roof – perhaps they do massages here. We were shown around by Carina, who explained that everything here was run by the bell – it would be rung to summons visitors to meals and at the start of activities. She gave us each a turquoise plastic mug which we have to take with us on any activity and showed us the board, detailing our programme for the four days we would be here, together with times for meals. It seems to be run a bit like an automaton – you will do this, and you will eat now! How relaxing will that be? Our room was a minimalist large white painted square, a huge double bed - actually two singles zipped together – enveloped in a lime green cover with a yellow and black jaguar motif. The wardrobe – looked old and hand made – was painted in blue and yellow stripes (!), with one beside table and one carver chair. The windows when they could be opened, looked out on to a walled paved area – so no view. The bathroom was very large, almost as big as some of the rooms we have stayed in at other hotels.

Luckily we weren’t shown for any activity until this afternoon at 15.00, so we decided to take advantage of the swimming pool. As we were getting ready, Carina came to tell us that one of my bags had been left on the plane – perhaps we should have stayed and checked that everything was unloaded – but she was hoping that Ariane would be able to take it to the airport, where another guide was collecting more visitors at midday. It wouldn’t have been important except that it contained my walking shoes – I could have borrowed Colin’s washing things.

The pool was warm but very refreshing and we spent an enjoyable half an hour splashing around, before I collected the computer and blogged under the gazebo, while Colin caught up with some serious magazines, provided in the lounging area – like Newsweek and the Economist. We were called to lunch by the bell – one of those real old-fashioned brass ones, with a bit of rope tied to the clanger. There were only six of us in the dining room and three of those were staff! The other was a young lady from Switzerland, working for a travel agent, and in Brazil to check out hotels (she was going on to the Copacabana Palace after this) and eco-holidays – nice job if you can get it. The meal was what we have come to recognize in Brazil – beef stew, pacu fish (strange that we should meet up with that fish again so soon), rice, beans, a mix of cabbages – and to please Colin – mashed potato. Basic salad ingredients were available, and a table of desserts – which Colin again liked – caramel pudding (a bit like rice and beans – always seems to be on the menu), some custardy trifle type dessert, some gloopy “mashed” fruit – which looked like jam, portions of fresh fruit and cheese. So lots of choice again, and the quality was good. We found tea in the lounge, and spent some time looking at their table-top books on Brazil – Rio, the Pantanal, Southern Brazil, etc. There were then a couple of hours to “rest” or in our case – catch up on the emails. It is very expensive here to log on and there is no facility to connect our computer, so we decided to pay just once to let people know we were still surviving.

At 14.45 we were again summonsed by the bell – this time to partake of fruit juice and cakes – before setting out on our safari for the afternoon. Our tour leader – Thiago – had been at Caiman for nearly four years and said he would be leaving in a few months time to go traveling. We later met his mother, who was staying here for a few days, as she hadn’t seen her son for more than a year – who definitely didn’t know anything of his plans to disappear round the world! But Brazilians are family oriented – Ariane had told us that families all eat together in the evening – their snack meal, a bit like our lunch – and then watch television together, particularly the soap operas shown between 19.30 and 21.00! If people wanted to go out, it had to be after the soap operas! To be fair, each of their soap operas are more like our “series”, lasting three months at most, but they sounded just as banal. Thiago told us we would be walking in some very wet places – oh dear – I was only wearing my sandals as my shoes had not yet arrived – I had put some socks on so that the bugs couldn’t eat my toes, but hadn’t catered for water – let’s hope my bag will arrive later today. He led us to a huge grey metal truck – you had to climb six steep metal steps to get in – which seated between 15 and 18 people, with a roof but open sides. We had a clear view all round, as the seats were above the level of the cab. There were only the three of us, plus our leader, so we rattled around a bit inside.

The idea of the safari is to ride for a few kilometres into the wooded areas of the ranch - Cordilheira - and then hike to see more of nature at first hand. We stopped only a couple of hundred metres from the start to see where the cowboys keep their equipment for the horses – I would be riding on Friday morning, providing my back was not painful. Our driver showed us his skill with one of the home-made lassoos – made from the leather of the cattle skins. There were sheepskin covers and finally a narrow looking unforgiving saddle. Whilst driving along a reasonable dirt road – not too many pot holes - we saw many of the birds we had seen at Rio Negro, and a few others with great names – white headed marsh tyrant, lumpkin and campo oriole – this one bright orange with black wing tips which should be easy to spot because of its bright plumage, but when it flew from a palm into a denser deciduous tree, it was completely camouflaged. We drove for about six kilometres before debussing and walking – almost immediately – to a small stream which had to be crossed. It was very muddy and squelchy on both sides, and there was nothing for it but to jump – I just about made it to drier ground with a bit of a splatter as mud sprayed either side of my sandals. From here the walking was simple – mainly dryish track under the canopy of trees. We saw armies of soldier ants marching along the path beside us in very regimented lines, leaf carrying ants hauling their load on their backs, back to their nest, where they store the small leafy segments until they produce a fungus which the ants then eat and termite tunnels running up the trunks of trees to their nests high above. We also watched a pair of howler monkeys moving slowly through the trees. These monkeys are different to most types in that they live only in pairs, not the usual large family troupe. Babies have to leave as soon as they are old enough to fend for themselves. After about half an hour we came to a lake, which, in the dry season, can be easily crossed on foot – now, of course, the waters are much too high for that, so there was nothing for it, but to turn back and find the truck. We had a chance to look more closely at some woodpeckers – they really are industrious birds, tapping out their territory with lots of small taps, or finding food with a few irregular taps – by the time we leave here I am going to know an awful lot about birds!

We returned to the ranch in the truck and thought we had plenty of time to change and rest before the bell rang again at 20.00 for a barbeque in the courtyard. But all round the lights outside there were millions of the midge type flies we had seen at Rio Negro, and when we entered our room there were even more. The bed cover had been removed by the staff – presumably when they turned the bed down for the night – so the stark white sheet was just a mass of black measley bugs – ugh – it was horrible – they flew in your face, stuck to your arms – and there seemed no way to get rid of them. We did manage – with difficulty – to shower and change and then went to reception to see if they we could buy a can of bug spray. They did not sell that in the shop but said they would send the maid to spray the room, and sure enough a few minutes later, we saw the lady armed with her spray can making tracks for our abode – why isn’t there a can in every room? We had joined others in the courtyard, slightly early for the food time, to have a drink. Thiago’s mother told us that there had been no midges since she had arrived on Sunday, and could only think that they must be the forerunners of rain! When we saw the lady leave our room, we returned and donned even more bug repellent all over, and it did work a bit – the numbers landing on us seemed to decrease a bit and by the end of the meal, the numbers flying around had certainly lessened.

The bell tolled again at 20.00 and the food was set out on the bar – finding a midge-free plate was a task in itself, and keeping them out of drinks and off the food was almost impossible. There was a large array of salads, rice and beans of course, some quite tasty noodles, a vegetable selection including chunks of corn on the cob - which we have hardly seen since coming to South America - and some spicy sausage – a cross between a salami and a frankfurter. Once we sat at the table, cowboys came round with long metal skewers holding enormous hunks of beef, which they carved with the knives that they carry in a special pouch tucked into the back of their trousers – we hoped they had washed them first! The outside of the meat was covered in salt crystals, and consequently tasted very salty, but on later rounds when the inside meat was being cut, the salt was less. The meat was tasty and tender, but it seemed they had cooked about three whole cows for a dozen of us. A Brazilian couple serenaded us with guitars and crooning while we were eating, sometimes singing Brazilian versions of American songs . We sat with Tamsina, the Swiss girl, who was leaving at 06.00 tomorrow, but we might meet up again in Salvador. Colin, of course, had a helping each of the six desserts on offer! – both he and Tamsina decided the strawberry ice cream was too hard. We went off in search of tea in the lounge, but there wasn’t any, so we just retired to bed.

We have to be at breakfast by 06.30 tomorrow and out at 07.00 – even though the wake-up bell is not until 06.15 – can you imagine Colin being ready in fifteen minutes at that hour – we set our alarm for 05.45 to give him plenty of time. I wonder what happens if you are late – presumably no breakfast and probably a penance too!

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