Almost Done With 319

 We had a slow start when we were parked at the antenna tower. I got up before Layne and started my day by emptying our jugs into our fuel tank. I left a gallon or so in the bottom and when the young engineers appeared I called them over and, struggling to make myself understood gave them the jugs and contents. One good turn deserves another and later they showed back up with actual cashews, not the store bought kind but from the tree.

It was clear we needed Starlink in case we needed to communicate further. There is no cell signal anywhere along the highway but all businesses offer strong WiFi. I wrote yesterday’s post, Layne dealt with her pictures and Rusty napped. It was peaceful, except I tried eating the wrong part of the cashew ripping the skin off the nut with my teeth which was when I discovered it’s the nut that stings until it is treated for human consumption. Imagine eating a poison ivy leaf.  Not delicious. I took two Benadryl which then made me sleepy. Sometimes I feel like Mr Bean.

Stilt houses give some idea how much it must flood around here in rainy season. I can’t imagine how many mosquitoes suddenly appear. 

It was a short drive, about twenty miles or two hours.  You don’t need more photos of dirt road, dust clouds and trees. 

It’s all more of the same.  Plus some roadworks. 

Then we reached the banks of the Igapó-Açu River and the small community that has grown up around the ferry that crosses the river and charged us $5:50 for the privilege.

They have two barges and three tugs to provide service across the river with interruptions hopefully. We don’t drive at night but I doubt it’s 24 hours

We went to lunch, fried river fish was on the menu.

And then we went down to the river and swam with a pink dolphin native to the Amazon region. The waters are tannic but I got this picture off the internet, a strange but friendly mammal.

He was quite friendly and used to humans and enjoyed being touched, he felt dry and firm rather like an underwater Peruvian hairless dog.

We were passed by a Ford pick up with British Columbia tags equipped for overlanding with a rooftop tent and sundry equipment. They blew past us without acknowledgement and we caught up to them at the restaurant where they turned their backs and ignored us. They spoke what sounded like Russian to each other but admitted to Layne they spoke English. It was a weird grey peculiar moment meeting fellow travelers in the middle of nowhere who pretended we didn’t exist. 

We lined up for the ferry while the Russians parked their truck in a prime spot to make sure they got it. All they had to do was ask and we would have reassured them we were moving on; it felt very unlike a Brazilian encounter.  

We watched the bus passengers filing off the ferry and paid our $5:50 fare to board.

And then we drove on.  

Then the three trucks came.  

Don’t step beyond the gate or you may die. 

The Igápo-Açu River.  Never heard of it. 

They spin the wheels to raise and lower the ramp.

We drove seven more miles and stopped for the night at a restaurant. A short day ended with rice beans and meat and a couple of cold beers.

I’m not going to kiss this road but it has been an experience.  

 

A trash can surprised us; the white bag was ours.  We needed to get rid of it so the Lixio box was providential. 

Fuel is available but I was okay with not needing it.  

Lovely pot holes. 

Dust, endless dust. After we reach pavement I’ll inflate the tires and look for a car wash. 

The blue flags and dots below are my marks to not the beginning or end of paved roads.