Off on my bike : Fortaleza to Juazeiro do Norte

My first pousada on the road.

I confess I had some doubts about biking in Brazil - would it be too hot, do they ride bikes here, is the whole idea just too crazy?  As I struggled to buy a cycle, I did think, why not just buy a big bag and get on a bus...  Well, there were plenty of cyclists in Fortaleza, even a municipal hire scheme.  Deciding factor was the Argentine guy staying at my 'pousada' - guesthouse - who had ridden from Salvador to Sao Paulo, so it is a doable thing here.

Not easy though.  New bike may be new, but compared to the one I've left in Tenerife it is heavy, slow, the gears are clunky, the seat both uncomfortable, and unwilling to stay correctly adjusted.  Still it works, I ride south, sticking to a main road as all the others I see have dirt surfaces.  First day it rains, actually good as on a clear day this is hot work, at least riding along I have the passage of air to keep me cool, but I go through a lot of water - it goes into my bag cool, but before long it is almost hot when I come to drink.

One of the Quixadá monoliths.

I'm carrying the tent, but to be honest while it's good to have the option, I'm not desperate to wild camp near the road here.  Not least, while I might feel safe enough if I could get a hundred metres or so away from the traffic and hidden behind some trees, this is tricky because every mile of road is bordered by an unbroken line of barbed wire to either side.

Not a big problem as yet though - internet searches don't bring up any hotels in these parts, but in fact every ten miles or so I go through a small town, and each has a pousada or two.  I even find a decent hotel in Quixadá, air conditioned!  Actually a bit of a tourist spot here, thanks to the numerous rocky peaks that sprout improbably from an otherwise more or less flat plain surrounding the town.

That near-empty reservoir.

And onwards, bike keeps working, I keep stopping to buy cold drinks, but still average sixty to seventy miles a day.  I have my water filter in case I need it, though there isn't much water about, I ride on bridges over dry rivers, and past a reservoir whose level is well below even the bottom of the dam intended to hold it back.  That evening, the pousada (part of a service station complex that is an oasis of modernity next to a shabby looking village) has a sign blaming the dam for what comes out of the taps - sure enough the water is yellow and sulphurous.

Huge birds circle over the road, are they vultures of some kind?  Well, I'm not ready to be roadkill just yet, generally there is a metre or so of shoulder to the right of the carriageway and it feels safe enough, not much traffic anyway.  On to Iguata, I meet Luiz, a local biker who plies me with beer and does a fine job of communicating in pidgin Portuguese, good to practice.

Taking a break on my way up a hill.

Last leg to Juazeiro is a ninety mile monster, my fault for stopping early the day before, still I can do this, 6:45am start, and a routine of thirty minutes on the saddle, then five minutes to swig water and snack.  Pretty, if hilly countryside to ride through, seems a bit greener here, where the first hundred miles or so was very dry, cows looking half alive, here they look like, well, cows.  I keep on, the sun sets, at least I have lights, and finally reach my pousada at 7:30pm.  Hey, it's not even late, time enough for a burger and a beer or two.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.