#41 Run in's with Customs, Christian's, and the Common Man's Petrol

Our experience of Brasil had its genesis in the town of Rivera/Santana do Livramento. One town, two countries - with no clear line. You might cross the road and its Brasil, and then a few houses down you're back in Uruguay. As a lawyer my first thought was if I commit a crime in Uruguay and then go to Brasil, do I fall under International Law?

Our goal was to get through Brasil as fast as possible. We had heard it was expensive and we were not keen to start again with a new language. We stayed the night in Rivera (Uruguayan side) and got up early to get through the border quick and cover some kilometers. Well what I was to learn was that Brasil had other plans for us.

Because the border was in a town, the different offices were spread across the city, and it turned out that we had to go to separate places for us and the motorbike (nowhere else has it been like this). To make matters worse, the officials kept sending us to the wrong place.  Eventually, after 4 hours of driving and walking around in sweltering heat (the longest border before this was about 30 minutes), we were in, but very grumpy. To make matters worse we had no maps, and nothing of our entire journey was discussed in Lonely Planet, so we were flying blind.

Well we couldn't stay miserable for long as once we were out of the city Southern Brasil started to enchant us. The landscape was new and different, a lovely mixture of farmland and jungle entertwined. You'd wind up a jungly mountain and then come over a crest and see fields of a variety of produce. We were surrounded by bunches of dense jungle between fields of farmland, but I still had to keep my eye on the road as cars continually overtook, even with cars in the other lanes, prompting a few serves and slowdowns just to avoid oncoming traffic.

Still it was stinking hot, and by 7pm we were hungry, sweaty and exhausted. We saw a sign for camping in a tiny roadside town and weaved our way along a gravel road, not sure what to expect. We rose to the top of this hill and before us, like a lighthouse shining in a stormy sea, was this beautiful, grassy, clean, modern campsite. With a pool, a pool! High fiving each other as a lady came over and said hello, in English (this couldn't get any better), life looked sweet. Then Brasil changed its mind and the knife dropped, 'this is a camp for only Christians'. WTF, I mean what does that even mean? Us heathens aren't bad people once you get to know us. I seriously thought about converting just to stay a night at this place,  but sadly no, we were shown the door. We managed to find another campsite, but it wasn't the same. I now know what it must feel like for an athiest if when they die they find out there really is a heaven.

The next day we were up early and lady luck was on our side, the forecast was rain. A cooling, refreshing, clouded sky with occasional rainfall was a welcome sight which allowed us to drive without dying of dehydration. We later found out it was the first time in 70 days it had rained in that area.

The next challenge we faced was filling up with petrol. In Chile, Argentina, and Uruguay all petrol is either 91, 93, 95, and 97 with names like Supa and Premium, so it's pretty straightforward. But in Brasil the petrol has names like A, B, C, D, E, F. I'm serious, no numbers, just letters. With names like Comon Petrol? What is Comon Petrol B? Is this the petrol of the common man? Now, I'm all for being with the people, but is my bike going to run on it? Without knowing any Portuguese it was a lot of charades to the petrol man before the right petrol was put in.

We managed to find a map and continued to enjoy the countryside, after a big days drive it was late afternoon and we were hunting for a place to stay. This became tricky. We kept passing places with names like 'Hotel Shhhh', 'Hotel Sexibebe', and our favourite 'Hotel Alibi'. These places left us with the impression you get a room for an hour, not the night. Without too many options we eventually stayed the night at accomodation above a petrol station. Not sure what to expect we were pleasantly suprised, and also could now say we were hardened travellers.


Next stop Foz do Iguacu - Reece.