We were on our way to Barra Grande (Ceará), on a tip, and only ten minutes down the road we were stalled.

The bus was ‘missing’, sputtering and jumping and generally not running well. We pulled over on the side of the road and Jason went to work on the engine, while we tried to keep cool. Even at 8 AM, the heat and humidity was unrelenting.

It took a while to figure it out, but our electronic ignition died. Kaput. Jason swapped it out with and old set of points and we were back on our way.

Barre Grande is a kite surfing destination, but was a ghost town today. We took zero photos.

The next day, we knew it was going to be a long drive to Parque Nacional Lençois Maranhenses, so we got up early and hit the road.

Jason had a plan to knock off 250 km of pavement driving via shortcut that would take us directly there. Most of the roads were on the map as dirt, but there was a missing section in the middle. He checked out the satellite photos and was convinced there was a path where ‘the road should be’. This was our plan – we were going to try to follow the Rio Magú for while and then turn north where there is no road on the map.

After a few hours, Jason turned onto the dirt and announced, “Now the fun part begins!”

The bus was running like crap, so we pulled over to tweak a few things – not much help.  Eventually, the road turned too sandy (and narrow) for us and we had to turn back. The power lines were our clue that the road would continue and actually went somewhere, but the sand was just too deep. But, we had a Plan B. We headed inland a bit and tried another route. This one turned from dirt, to mud then to deep sand and we repeated this for a few more hours.

The ‘towns’ we drove through were mostly just a collection of houses, with everyone sitting on their porch looking at us drive by like we’re idiots. The road usually turned to mud around civilization, and in one place we got stuck. About 10 guys from town helped push us out, walked with us another 500 meters where there was another muddy place, pushed us through that and insisted we would be able to make it the rest of the way. Then, it started raining.

Our original detour had cost us a couple hours. The roads we found were definitely 4×4 territory, but we pushed on.  It most spots it was very narrow and and had brush along both sides, or was a gully – not even a place to turn out to camp. We had to break our rule and drive at night. This made things way more interesting.

For some reason, the roads in the little villages seemed to be worse than anywhere else on the route. As we bounced a scraped our way through town, the townsfolk just stared out their windows at what was obviously a normal form of entertainment. We lost our skid plate at some point, but hopped out and got it.

In one nameless town (none of them were on a map or had signs to indicate where we were), we followed the road downhill to find giant impassable crevices in front of us. There were also giant crevices along both side of the car, making backing up (uphill) a feat of terror. Again, kind folks in town showed up to help, but in true South American style, there 8 guys yelling different things to us.

The car didn’t have enough power to back up the hill, so I had to start pushing from the front, then everyone else started. But in the dark going backwards, it was impossible for Jason to see where to steer the car, and one wheel started sliding down into the crevice. The bus was dangling at a fortuitous angle, with Jason and Bode inside and me panicking outside. Everybody was yelling and more people started showing up. Some logs and palm fronds (these don’t ever really hold a car do they?) were placed under the wheels and a team of guys put themselves in great danger holding up the right side of the bus to prevent it from sliding further down the crevice.

We finally made it backwards up the hill and we were pointed to detour. It’s the rainy season and major washout can happen, but we were a little amazed that someone didn’t use one of those logs to block the road. Regardless, we made it out safe and sound, with at least another two hours ahead of us.

Except, we were running out of gas.

In the next village, we spotted a hand-painted “gasolina” sign on the side of somebody’s house. I don’t know how we saw it in the dark, but we were absolutely lucky. Nobody was home, so we asked next door and the girl had a key. We managed to negotiate soda-bottle gasoline for R$3.50 a liter, until granny showed up and bumped the price to R$4. The grannies are always the toughest businesspeople. Still, at only a 30% markup over posto prices, we couldn’t refuse.

When we got to our final destination of Barreirinhas after a 14 hour day we were shocked at the modern conveniences and upscale tourist amenities, (there’s a paved road  from the north). Wwe checked into a hotel and immediately jumped into the pool.

From the lake, you can hop in the back of a 4WD truck that drives you through the sand to Jericoacoara (Jeri). It takes about 45 minutes of bumping, sliding and hitting your ass hard on a bench seat in the back of an old truck. It was fun.

This is another in-the-middle of nowhere, hard to get to, sandy tourist town that we love. But, this one has a lot of high-end stores and hotels.  We got there late afternoon and found a place to crash for the night. After the daily dose of acai, we headed to the giant sand dune at the end of town.

The sunset here is the big event, and everyone in town climbs the dune and watches the show.  Since the Atlantic Ocean is directly north of us now, the sun seems to both rise and set over the water.

Bode must have run down that dune 25 times. It’s a lot steeper than it appears in these photos.  He talked Jason into running down twice, me only once. It was the climb up I didn’t want to do over again.

When the sun went down, there was a capoeira performance on the beach. Lots of energy, music and song.  Bode’s been practicing his own version for weeks now. It’s definitely something we’d love to learn.

It was too dark for us to get a good video or photos, but here’s a sample of the awesomeness:

From Canoa Quebrada, we drove 200 km to Cumbuco. We had originally planned a day in Fortaleza, but after meandering through town, we just didn’t feel compelled to stop. Supposedly, they have the ‘tallest waterslide in the world‘. 14 stories. It costs a fortune.

Bode has been talking smack about Insano for at least a year. We’ve been down a few big waterslides before and he’s definitely ready and able. But, some time over the past few months, he has developed a sense of fear that previously didn’t exist. He still talks a good game, but now stops to think before leaping. Not a bad thing, but a definite change has occurred.

From there, it was another 260 km to Jijoca de Jericoacoara. The town isn’t much to look at, but the lake here is amazing. Lagoa Paraíso.

We found a campsite – maybe the last one before the Amazon – on the shore of the lake and next to a watermelon patch. We were quite pleased.

\

Did we mention that the lake is amazing? Crystal clear and white sand bottom. And, hammocks in the water. Seriously. From now on… hammocks in the water.

Considering the ideal location, we were surprised to be alone. We met one of the neighbors from a across the street- a bit drunk from a day’s sail on the lake – who giggled uncontrollably while demonstrating how to steal a melancia. But, then he had a change of heart and tried to pawn it off on us. Not wanting to get caught green-handled, we declined. We already had one in the bus.

We also had our own acerola tree. For tasty juice, you don’t need a juicer – just press the fruit between two identical cups and add some sugar to taste. Good stuff.

From San Miguel de Gostoso, we made the fairly uninteresting drive along the back roads toward Areia Branca. Other than a quick beach stop at the beginning, there weren’t many highlights. Lots of lowland muddy salt flats and a pretty ugly salt industry.  And, the farther we get into Ceará state, the more animals we see in the road – mainly goats and donkeys – and they are everywhere. A little unusual compared to the southern states.

Someone had recommended Areia Branca to us – I can’t remember who. We’re still not sure why. We arrived at night, and for us, this was just a one-nighter at Praia de Upanema.  The next day, we hopped on another ferry across the Rio Mossoró and kept cruising.

From there, it was another long day’s drive to Canoa Quebrada. More animals all over the road and lot’s of empty towns.

Canoa is a pleasant touristy town in the dunes.  The thing to do here – like many places along this coastline – is to hire a bugeiro and hit the dunes. I have a hard time paying somebody to drive me around in an old VW, so for us, this was a place to eat lots of camarão and wander the quiet streets at night.

Why build a bridge? Seriously?

Some of these ferries are ridiculously sketchy, but that’s what makes it an adventure.

Today, we made it to Sao Miguel de Gostoso where the police said it would be fine to camp on the beach in front of the town square.

When the sun went down, the toads came out. Giant toads, all over the beach.

It turns our that there is an absolutely fabulous great beach boondock about 8 km from São Miguel do Gostoso. Who knew?

If you’re coming through, we highly recommend stopping.  GPS: S5.10414 W35.69927

…and Bode came face to face with a bode.