Last weekend I went to the beach house of a Brasilian friend, with a group of 3 internationals I know from my volunteer work here. When we arrived the weather was average to poor, light misty rain to heavy downfalls and grey skies but we wanted to visit a remote beach on the nearby island Ilha Bela by 4WD track. The following morning there was sunshine so we packed the car with beer and bbq and set off to the place where the ferry would take us across.
We wanted to reach a beach called Castellanos on the far side of the mountain island. At the national park entrance we were informed that the trail was near impossible to pass due to the rains creating boggy mud. We decided to try anyway. It couldn´t be that bad! We set off, music blaring, pothole jolting, excitement rising. The trail was pretty bad but we passed over an hour with only minor bogs. After sliding down a hill, kind of sideways, with no grip whatsoever and worse yet to come we decided to walk the rest. We pulled out the esky with our bbq gear, grabbed the mossie repellent and set off through the mud. The mud proved a very effective insect repellent as we dragged ourselves through sections knee deep. Pulling, dragging and riding the esky down the mountain, covered in mud, laughing hysterically, wading rivers and wanting a swim we arrived 90 minutes later at the beach.
We were welcomed by twilight skies, clear waters, thick jungle to the sand and biting flies. A swim later we started a fire to cook our fish. Marcio almost cried on opening the esky as he realised that at the gas station he had thrown away a paper-wrapped kilo of prawns and kept the old fishheads. Nevertheless a beachside bbq ensued and the fish was amongst the best of my life.
All of a sudden it was dark and we faced either a long uphill trek and dangerous drive or a night on the beach. A local lady offered us a small bungalow, complete with breakfast, candlelit and damp, so we took it. A night of brilliant stars, campfire moments, humid sheets and frog calls.
The following morning we set out, driven by the mosquitos. The esky was lighter but the gradient steeper and the humid, hot walk took over an hour. Finally, the car! We piled in, crammed our faces with chocolate and juice, glad to be almost home. The car didn´t start, battery flattened overnight. Hmmmm. Nothing to do but wait. We had seen jeeps arrive on the beach in the morning, so it was only a matter of time before they came back up to jump start us.
Three hours later, just before sunset they came. We jump started and the kind drivers volunteered to help us back up the almost impassable trail. At times we had two small jeeps dragging our truck up the mountain through thick mud. The dark had truly deepened by the time we got to the end of the trail, seven hours after setting out from the beach. Foodless and waterless we pulled into a service station to eat pizza and pastries. The bright lights allowed a proper inspection of our bite ridden bodies.
A ferry ride and drive later and home - the beach house, a shower and a beer. Bliss.
