This morning I had arrived in Manaus, the last city north of the Amazonas on my way towards Uruguay. From here I was supposed to take the ferry to Santarem. My only connection to get to the Transamazonica. Everything was handled according to plan, I was at the harbour at 9:40am, the ferry was supposed to leave at 10:00am. Perfect timing. Nearly…

As we were still standing at the harbour at 11:00am I used my broken spanish to ask at what time we would finally start. In two hours, I was told. Enough time to maunder the fish market and get some money from the ATM. I took some money, enjoyed a fish with rice and went back to the harbour. And when i came back i saw: The ferry was gone. It was just turning towards the river right before my eyes. With wildly cursing I ran to the water and a fisherman recognized my problem. Then everything happened so quickly.

He started the motor and I jumped onto the boat. We started chasing after the ferry. It was a spectacular ride, I climbed the big ferry at full speed within the fairwater, paid 20 Real and was relieved for the moment. Everybody on the ferry was giving me the strange look. I was a fucking pirate in this moment, ha! But I made it. Catastrophe avoided. I asked the first person I met, if the ferry was really the one to Santarem. She said yes. I asked another and that one said yes too. But still, everything looked so different here. I went up to the second floor. It was different to what I remembered also here, there were no sinks here before. It took me 1-2 minutes until I realized: Fuck! I was not on the wrong ferry.

Also the officials on board were a little confused. What is this guy in the yellow suit doing there? Just jumping onto their ferry out of nowhere. I showed them my ticket with immeasurable despair inside me. How could that happen to me. Everything was so well organized. Now I will have to get a taxi back to the harbour, if the ferry will let me jump off somewhere. Had I really overlooked my boat and hijacked the wrong one? Is my ferry still at the harbour?

I looked downstream the majestic amazonian river. And then i saw it. About two miles in front of us, I found my ferry. It had also left the harbour already. Of course, the red lifeboats on deck, I remembered them. And it became clear: No use in getting back to the harbour. I really missed it. As my distress was rising I realized rather hectic activities going on around me. So I decided to wait for a moment.

A bearded human approached me to signifying that they were working on my problem. After 10 minutes he explained that they would bring me to my ferry for 20 Real. Sounds good. My only chance to get this ride. Their motorboat was at the backside of the ferry. A little clumsy I climbed down the rear, jumped onto the boat, and on we were going.

The ride with the fisherman before was – compared to this boat – a grannies ride. As we touched the first wave I nearly crashed my face onto the steel trunk of the boat. Lucky me, I still have all my teeth. And to my surprise we didn’t go towards the ferry but rather towards a dock at the harbor. I was confused. It turned out, that we unload two woman and pack some other passengers. After 7000km on the ocean I thought that I was quite a sea dog, but this ride was pure hell.

I had to cling onto the boat with all my power to not fall out. It was raining. My backpack was slowly detaching. Hold on. My strength dissolved. We were thrown back and forth from the waves….! I felt like the passenger of a matchbox car that was hit onto the asphalt ground by a motorically less developed kid over and over again. And again. And again. No pity or mercy. The five minutes our ride went on were like half an hour to me.

Finally we arrived at the ferry to Santarem. Again, people were staring at the human in a yellow suit climbing the ferry up on its side. This time I was experienced. This time it also was the right ferry. I entered successfully. Mission accomplished. Not even lost a second for my moving. After that I had to calm my nerves with beer and nicotine. As I smoked, my legs still shaking. I was really happy and the only thing that came to my mind was: “What the fuck. This crazy shit. What has just happened to me? You won’t be able to tell it correctly, better write it down NOW!”

And so i am sitting here with shaking hands and writing it down.

Der Beitrag Ferry missed! Hopping on the Amazon River erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

I walked for 5 hours, or rather, strayed around. I did a bad job choosing my points of orientation. I was looking for a bridge that unfortunately only existed inside my brain. I wandered around through some Favelas alongside the Transamazonica that at some point became single-laned and finally blocked by some road barriers. Very strange. Several cars passing, the people inside screaming strange things towards me.

Also the atmosphere was a little aggressive. But well, I ignored them and that was fine. At some point some drunk man picked me up to show me the way out of the city. Full of naivete I jumped in and we made it to the next local kiosk where he wanted me to buy him a bottle of spirit. Screwed. I really didn’t want to discuss and so I payed it, fuck it, it’s just money.

Somehow I ran into some Brazilians there. Beatrice spoke English and there was beer. That’s why I sit here and party with them. No hitchhiking tonight…

04:40 pm (That’s what I logged, must have been 06:40 though)

I think we partied until about 10am including a bath in the Amazonas river and a full sized lunch. Now I am back on the street at the city boundary holding a pack of peach juice. It’ll be dark soon and I hope for my first ride tonight.

06:41pm

Until now hitchhiking at night worked pretty well. A motorbike stops and we drive for 20 minutes, me not wearing a helmet. Kinda refreshing at night. Love this kind of rides. Next stop: Ferry.

07:05pm

Maximum confusion. Somehow the driver of the bike got me on a bus that would go to Maraba. What an irony that the same ride (Bus 500km towards Maraba) was canceled for me last night. Now riding the whole night through. Tomorrow I will leave the Amazonian area, hopefully on paved roads.

Thursday, January 15th 2015, 04:00pm

The past 11 hours were typically Brazilian. Long waiting times, close to no traffic and a lot of walking. I took pictures of several roadkills that I found along the road. Now I am back on a ferry again. There was that person, glowing blue eyes, brown hair, looking like an alien. A Brazilian speaking German with a very funny accent. Also he told me, that I had been hitchhiking on the wrong road all day long. But the people there show me the right way. Again, the motivated people on the ferry manage to get a ride for me.

06:15pm

Finally on the Br-153, the highway that will accompany me for several thousand kilometres heading south. I meet the first Brazilian that speaks fluent English and he taught me Portugese that I really needed. Two sentences: “Where do you go?” and “Can I go with you?” will make my life much more easy from now on.

Friday, January 16th 2015, 01:14am

Auto Posto-Station Brazil. Kind of a deluxe service area. I eat something, take a shower and go to bed afterwards.

04:47am

I woke up a little late. The first trucks are already leaving. Quickly I pack my things together. Work is calling.

06:14am

There was that truck. Loaded with cars. I asked if I could come with him. The driver, Marcus, declined. I didn’t really understand why. He had very confusing body language so i just stood there continuing to talk to him. I had a suspicion. In the end I was allowed to ride with him (until his first break) inside one of the cars on the loading platform. My own car. Ha! Later I could join him in the driving cabin.

I will be riding with Marcus for 37 hours and 1528km. The longest ride I ever had in all my life. The next day I drop out of the truck in Santa Babara. Completely satisfied with the covered distance. Again, taking a shower, eating and just be happy.

Saturday, January 17th 2015, 08:37pm

I get a ride with Pablo, a lecturer for international relations at the University of Sao Paolo. Soon after starting to drive he lights a joint. We smoke. Marcus, the truck driver, was also smoking all the time in his truck. He had some medical approval to smoke Marijuana. Somehow you can get that in Brazil.

The ride with Pablo was very amusing. Passing a police checkpoint on the highway Pablo suddenly hit the brakes. He wanted to ask for directions. That wasn’t very clever. When we almost stopped, he also realized that it wouldn’t be the best idea to enter the checkpoint completely stoned. Quickly accelerating as if nothing had happened and onwards.

08:56pm

The first service area behind the highway intersection was rather a normal gas station but glowing like an UFO. We stopped, teenagers everywhere inside their cars, drinking, talking, filling gas… Sao Paolo on a Saturday evening. Also it was gang war time at the moment in the north and there were heavy fights with police. I was rather not motivated to exit the car jumping into the colorful night live of Sao Paolo.

“Oh, so many … locals … here.” I told Pablo. He didn’t get my ironical sub tone. “Yes, I will leave you here.” First I was laughing but he meant it really serious. Anyway, in the end he gave me a ride further to the next gas station.

On the gas station before there had only been those teenagers. No trucks, no tourists from the highway, … well, pretty much nobody else than then teenagers. On the next gas station was just…nobody.

10:00pm

Sao Paolo at night. Like the “Brazilian Venezuela”, if I remember how many people warned me of that. But now I am more tense, I don’t really want to get in trouble. I got some decent respect from the crazy people here in the city. “Sick city with mad people!” is how Pablo referred to it. Not a single car at sight. But the highway looks nice. So I decide to just walk along it. Can’t really be much worse. And it’s more safe along the road.

10:10pm

Next to me a big club appears with a lot of drunken people. A place I always NOT wanted to pass. Some horses are tied to the trees. Urban parking. I keep on walking trying to keep it down. Further on the highway into darkness where I am alone.

Suddenly a lean guy walks towards me, obviously after some decent partying. Fuck, why do people walk here on the highway? My calmness vanishes. Only as an amorous couple crosses my path I realize that the highway might be just some extended sidewalk here in Sao Paolo. I walk on and find a small kiosk where I get me some water and beer.

Upcoming is probably the one really dangerous situation on my journey so far. Another lean man appears, looks a little like a fucked up football hool. Red-eyed from some shit he took and a deep-rooted frustration shining through his face. He entangles me into a conversation, questioning my origin. “Allemana”. Thats the keyword. Football. He is Paulista, Brazilian and this German is facing his suffering existence on a Saturday night.

I see hate flickering in his eyes, he starts to swear at me, obviously aggressive. Going after his body language it’s something like: “You damn fuckers screwed us at the world championship, fucking assholes….!” and so on. I expected him to start hitting me every moment. But I managed to smile at him behaving as always when a Brazilian comes to the subject of the 1:7 versus Germany: “Sooooorrryyy!” Not my fault guys. He got it, in the end he was starting to like me. But I didn’t. I really wanted to pass him as soon as possible, back into darkness, away from the crazy folks around.

Sunday, January 18th 2015, 02:20am

Next gas station. I am here since a while already. The petrol attendant approached me as soon as I came across the highway. Very welcoming. He got everything under control and knows everyone here. A prostitute exits a truck with the driver. The trucker goes for a wash at the filling station, two others join him. The pump attendant, the prostitute and three truckers engage in an active conversation. The atmosphere is familial. Compared to the last 4 hours of walking it is really peaceful here.

02:30am

A ride with a Hyundai. A good night.

07:41am

I am on the highway intersection south of Curitiba. What a run. The morning sun shines merciless down on me. Onwards, it’s not far anymore.

11:29am

Surrounded by the beautiful Florianopolis. Sun shines even more grim. One of the hottest passages during my journey so far. I will have to wait for another 86 minutes until the next car stops.

07:48pm

In the last 101 hours I managed to hitchhike pretty much exactly 4000km through Brazil. I am a fucking Roadrunner. I am standing behind the toll station south of Porto Alegre. It is dark since 2 hours. Mosquitoes everywhere, I can’t stand still, need to move. Uruguay is only one day ahead.

08:21pm

Again a driver speaking German. A demeter farmer from around. Offers me a sleeping place. Why not after that hardcore tour. Taking a break killing the last 700 kilometres tomorrow in a relaxed days ride. Unusual for me, but I take the offer.

Monday, January 19th 2015, 02:12pm

I was late on the road, according to the log it was 06:48am (roughly 10:30am). And now… Pelotas. 250 kilometres away from the border. No idea who came up with this goddamn place. Again I wait since 2 hours for a car. No one stops, for fuck sake. It’s time to walk again. Won’t work though. All good mood has faded, close to the goal Brazil appears on it’s best.

03:14pm

The military shows mercy and picks me up on … a pick-up. They drop me at 03:50pm at a speed check.

03:50pm

The first car stops. Towards Chuy. Smooth. The driver is old and doddering but he drives like a maniac. On 180 km/h through Brazil. I appreciate that.

05:00pm

The last Brazilian ride. A surfer with an old VW bus (T1). Chuy is split in two. You just cross the street and you are in Brazil. As we pass the Brazilian Immigration Office I ask the driver if I should go for a stamp. He says no, not necessary. Okay. I ask again but he is confident that I don’t need one.

05:24pm

Exit in Chuy, heading for the Uruguayan border.

05:56pm

Arrival at the border. Its still bright outside and there is traffic. Perfect for my next 200km. The border is nice, nobody wears weapons or uniforms, rather suits and ties. At the passport control they address me with my first name. I am informed that I can not enter with the Brazilian stamp missing. Shiiiiieeet! Newbie mistake for border crossing. I am pissed.

07:51pm

Okay, 5km back and forth. Still pretty hard pissed. That stupid mistake had cost me 2 hours. But even worse: I missed the “end of work day”-traffic, I ignored number one of the hitchhiker’s rulebook: “NEVER trust the driver!”

I will be at the border for 9hrs and 54min until I catch a car in the morning. But the border here at Chuy reminded me of the service station Berlin Grunewald. There is always some action, couple of other hitchhikers (around 6 within 10 hours) passing by. In fact you don’t really want to leave the place. Still, I waited for that lift to Uruguay longer than ever before. Although… there was that time in Norway … whatever. Let’s say this was my longest waiting time ever.

 The next day I will arrive after traveling exactly 3 months and 18.000km at my friends place, Ralph.
 I will add several special experiences that are rewarded with a blog post to the Brazil section. Also the missing “Hitchhiking in ...”-Articles and something about hitchhiking boats will be covered in some posts. All written, just waiting for publishing/translation.

Next stop is the southernmost point of South America with the option of taking a peek into Antarctica. If I can hitchhike there of course. Arrival is estimated for end of March 2015. Afterwards speeding north, I want to learn to horse riding and climb some mountains before the winter.

Der Beitrag Brazil out of the Logbook (2) erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

Friday, January 9th 2015, 10:15pm

I am at the city boundary of Mucajai, northern Brazil. It’s dark and I am wearing the equipment I use for Hitchhiking at Night. The gas station on the opposite side of the road is very busy. Loud pop music booms through the streets. I have headache. The music is horrible. The headlights are blinding. I didn’t sleep last night. I wait for 2.5 hours, some cars stop but I don’t get a ride. A migraine is knocking. I decide to walk away into the dark, away from the lights and the music.

10:45pm

The odor of rotten meat is in the air. I find two roadkills. On the next morning I will be taking pictures of them deciding to start a photo-series about roadkill. I am looking for a place to sleep. Left of me I see a wall, behind it a cemetery. There are many nice graves, also mausoleum with windows and doors. I could sleep in one of them… but it felt too impious to me. I find a small stone bench and lie down. Heavy sleep overcomes me.

Saturday, January 10th 2015, 05:41am

Sunrise at the cemetery. Brushing teeth besides the road. No car is stopping. Welcome to Brazil. I decide to walk.

08:29am

Finally, a car stops. Two hours and 48 minutes to get my first ride. It’s hard. We drive 10 minutes until the next village.

09:38am

Waiting for another 59 minutes until the second car stops for me. Brazil is flattering me. 15 minutes to the next village. I vote for breakfast and buy water, coffee, stuffed buns and a piece of cake.

12:16am

Waiting in Caracarai. Since 1 hour and 40 minutes. Sweet midday sun, no shadow. I eat an ice-cream. A Mercedes truck stops. The drivers name is Grafite and he is going to Manaus, 650km ahead. Yeah man! Joy is driving me crazy, I want to scream. Adrenalin rushes through my body. It’s the best kick while hitchhiking if you work for so long to get a ride and receive it in the end. It’s addictive.

Sunday, January 11th 2015, 08:49am

Manaus. Full of euphoria. Conquered Venezuela-Manaus quickly. But no time to lose, a long way is ahead of me. It’s pouring with rain. Somewhere within the city I drop out of the truck. I take a bus to the harbour to get information about ferries. The lady tells me that the ferry is leaving in 20 minutes. 20 minutes. Yeah man! Keep the pace up! I run to the pier, fully soaked in rain as I arrive. Who cares, main point getting to Uruguay. I don’t have enough money at the ferry, use some US-Dollars, pay a little more. Whatever. Soon we’re leaving. I have the ticket in my pocket. Again, Adrenalin. And then I missed my ferry! Time for the next Adrenaline kick. This time a very special one. Crazy travels.

Tuesday, January 13th 2015, 05:40pm

The ferry arrives. Sanatrem! I am really satisfied and start searching for my street, fighting unwaveringly through the departing masses.

06:01pm

I take a break, eat something and feel joyful. For me it’s important to head strengthened into the night. I hope to keep up the speed that I had until here.

06:23pm

End of the pause. Chocolate milk as aperitiv. Onwards!

07:24pm

My driver has an old Pick-Up. He turns into a side road explaining me that he has to do some business with some friends. As we stop we receive a heartwarming welcome, the whole family dining. Still, I am satisfied. There is coffee, life is beautiful. We take two more young guys and head for a construction site. I suppose one of them is building a house here. We unload some metal parts, everybody is happy that I have a head lamp to lighten the scene. Then we head back onto the road.

Friday, January 14th 2015, 00:20am

Belterra. Here I have to wait for 4 hours. There is no traffic anymore. Maybe I should sleep to fill up my energy. At least I did 100km that night. Better than nothing.
There was that sign right before. Rio de Janeiro – 4000km. I start to laugh. Insanity and skepticism enter. Insanity smiles mischievous and starts to talk to the main mission. There is Alkohol, the mood is relaxed. Certainty speaks its word of command. Everybody back to work, we net to get to Uruguay.

05:09am

I am getting up. A wonderful 90 minutes to my first ride. Dammed north of Brazil. Hitchhiking is hard in here.

07:32am

I sit inside a small Fiat. We stop the second time already. Engine overheated. Refilling water. Hoping to get the indicator down. He is driving like crazy. We will go down until Ruropolis, onto the Br 230, also known as Transamazonica.
Several parts of the road are not tarred. A dusty road covered in amazonian soil. There are extremely malicious and deep road holes. The road is completely straight, radiating the feeling of eternity. I am delighted. Every hill we master with our rickety subcompact shows new surprises and panoramas. I take a picture of the dirty windshield. Aesthetics of the road.

10:40am

“Transamazonica is easy to hitch“, said my friend Keith – I am thinking of this sentence the whole 1.5 hours while waiting for the next car. The position is good, directly behind a road bump.

Behind me some vultures fight over some leftovers. I can’t recognize what it was once. Maybe a rabbit or something similar. A group of 10 to 15 birds are dragging around a piece of meat trying to get their share. Suddenly the dog appears.
I have had situations like that pretty often in Brazil. Vultures are always indicating dead meat. The dog knows that. It becomes kind of a parasite. The vultures are still fighting devotedly for a mouth full until the dog enters the ring, jumps into the group of birds scaring them away 2 meters finally standing in front of its lunch. He obviously has fun. The dog doesn’t look aggressive or evil, rather silly and jolly. He is the featherbrained, shining king in the mass of those malformed birds, that every now and then try to tackle the carcass until the dog jumps at them again and scaring them off for good. As dumb and lucky as dogs are sometimes. I am amused.

01:44pm

Until now I had 4 rides. My waiting times: 91 minutes, 20 minutes, 105 minutes and 50 minutes. I recall Keiths´ sentence once again. Three minutes later a small Volvo truck stops. I jump onto the loading platform without any idea where they are going. We start. Upcoming is probably the best ride of my life on one of the most beautiful roads that I ever rode on.

The transamazonica is firstly a muddy track, in the best case dusty and while and after rain impossible to drive on. The road crosses a mountainous area. Like a German cart track, twice plought through, stuffed with big stones and covered in red, dusty soil. When raining it’s a big slide without water. Every hill becomes a fight. Traffic jams. You can watch huge and super modern tour busses fighting in every possible way through the rough terrain. There are busses everywhere. That pays off, especially when your own car is stuck and has to be pushed forward. By 15-20 people.
It was always a single vehicle going up the mountain, everyone else had to wait watching the spectacle. People laugh and joke, smoke and stare. Whenever a car is stuck the standard procedure starts. First you let them try again. After some time you accept that they are stuck.
Meanwhile, the people came out of the bus the bus. Nobody wants it but everybody knows what has to be done. Slowly the mob is moving. Very slowly, still in hope to see the spinning wheels grabbin hold and push the car forward. The first ones start to help, they push, press, shake and pull. Several not so motivated ones stand around figuring that they will have to help anyway. Teamwork in the mud. The car slides slowly towards the trench. People start screaming. The unfamiliar bus tourists brace themselves against the muddy truck with their still clean clothes. Somehow the truck manages to get up the hill. We continue.

We had to push three times on our 5 hour long journey. But that was only the top of the iceberg. The whole ride was pure agony. Even as a passenger it was very exhausting. I was sitting under the sky on the loading platform trying to keep holding on tight while I was shaken from left to right and up to down by the road. Road holes, dodging, rocks, mud, dust and always this ongoing, relentless shaking and jarring. At some point we stopped. I buy a huge piece of chocolate cake, coffee and water. It was the best cake I ever had in my life.
I enjoy the ride. Around us flat rain forest, sunset. We take two women with us on our way, on the most dusty part of the road. As they jumped off they were covered in grey powder and maybe doubted their decision to take that ride. But I myself was in even worse condition. My beard showed its strength as dust collector.

After five hours on the Transamazonica. Yeah, I was really done. Five hours on the Transamazonica are no cakewalk.

07:19pm

The cruise is over, it’s dark already. I rest for a little and let the experience sink into me. I really want to continue but as I looked into a mirror I figured that I need a shower, instantly. I take a shower and have dinner, enjoy a beer (660ml) and am back on the road at 9:01pm.
In front of me there are still 550km on the Transamazonica until Maraba. A big bus passes me. The night bus to Maraba. But I don’t flag it down, I let it go. Suddenly that bus stops, puts in reverse gear and signals that I should jump on. A night ride to Maraba. For real? I don’t believe it. Again Adrenalin. Insanity and Euphoria are hugging each other in tears. “Faster, faster, faster, to Uruguay!”, they scream. I jump in. We start. In front of me the worst fucking night on my whole journey…

Der Beitrag Brazil out of the Logbook (1) erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

General

Since 20th October 2014 i hitchhiked more than 36968,2 km. I had more than 405 Lifts, had to wait in average 23 minutes and 34 seconds and waited in total 182 hours and 39 minutes (which is about 7,5 days). I don´t wanna miss any of those minutes.

The Best

Is…Tenerife. 21 lifts i catched together with Hanna on this beautiful island. 8 minutes and 12 seconds we had to wait in average. I think Lanzarote was even better, but it was before i started with my documentation.
For South America the country with the best statistics is Ecudaor. 14 minutes and 30 seconds in average, till a car stopped and picked me up. 21 lifts in total and nearly 1000 km might not be that representative. But anyway.

The Positive Suprise

Brazil felt like Spain and Italy together. Totally shit. But the numbers speak another message. 15 minutes and 15 seconds average waiting time are close to the values of Ecuador. I catched 44 Lifts and did 6550 km through Brazil, which has definitely a higher represantation than Ecuador. Feelings might be wrong, numbers aren´t in this case. I don´t know how this can be so good, but during my Brazil crossing i felt like i had to walk at least one hour for every lift. Seems like i didn´t.

Mistaken

Totally overrated was Argentina on the other hand. For me one of the best country for hitchhiking in South America. Probably because of the Free WiFi in the gas stations and the comftable mix of warm roads, acceptable food, long ways and Internet. But the numbers are quite sobering. 34 minutes and 50 seconds average waiting time is the second worst for all my countries so far. I have to add, that i did alot of night hitchhiking in Argentina and this might have affected this value. With 8045 km it is also the country which i hitchhiked the biggest distance in. Also 84 lifts represent a big part of my catched cars so far.

The Worst

Definitely Colombia. Not even in the stats, but also how it felt. Don´t get me wrong, Colombia is a beautiful country, nice people, stunning landscape but moving here is just a pain in the ass. 48 minutes average waiting time. Can´t get worser. Allthough i had only in Venezuela less lifts than in Colombia. 943 km is the least distance i did from all countries in South America. But honestly, i doubt that this stast would get better if i make more distance here. Just a feeling. The reasons for this „hitchhiking-disaster“ im going to discuss in my „Hitchhiking in… – Colombia“ article.

My Secret Favourite…

…for hitchhiking in South America is not Chile…..but Uruguay. 88 Lifts: Its the country where i had the most cars and with 2689 km we find it in the upper midfield of the distances. The average waiting time was with 19 minutes and 42 seconds quite good. Even better if we take in account, that most of the time i was with Ralf together as a men/men team. Fucking good time, good job buddy. Also the country where i hitchhiked my first Cargo Train (hitchhiked and not hopped) and beside Syria the place where i got the most of my lovely Pick-Up rides. Unfortunately riding with Pick-Ups is freshly banned by the government, but let´s hope, that the Uruguayans take this law with the same „We don´t give a shit“-attitude as they take the rest of their lifes and still stop to pick up hitchhikers. Just so much fun there.

This table is fucking nice, isnt it?

Hello, you liked this article? Wanna read more? Please help us to translate more of my adventures and click here! :)

Der Beitrag Hitchhiking in South America – Statistically conclusions of my South America crossing erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.

If i think of Brazil there is immediately the Sugar Loaf Mountain, half-naked woman and beautiful beaches in my head. Typical stereotypes, which are cultivated by the tourism industry. I was not much interested in the biggest country of South America, but it was on my way to Uruguay, so i had to cross it from north to south. The more i appreciate that i got really suprised by Brazil and it´s diversity. Not even about the landscape, but also about the people. A really exciting country, which however might not be the best adress for hitchiking.

Stats

Comment about the log: The listed time is the same like in Venezuela Log. I crossed around 3 timezones and the local time differs from the log time. In general it was around 2-3 hours later than my logged time.

Log can be found here.

Hitchhiked distance: 6550 kilometer

Number of lifts: 44

Average waiting time: 15 minutes 16 seconds

Waiting time total: 35 hours 12 minutes (in log you have to add 24 hours)

My Route

I started at the venezuelian border in the north and hitchhiked to Manaus. After that i had to take a ferry to cross the amazonian river to Santarem. The alternative route along another street in the south would have been 2000km longer and my last information was, that the road is not existing anymore. The second part was from Santarem to Maraba via the Transamazonica and later on the BR-153 all the way south to Sao Paolo to hitchhike further to Chuy at the uruguayan border.

People

As i said above, i was very suprised by the immens diversity in Brazil. Brazil has a huge immigration history, people are as different, as you can imagine. For my suprise there have been also alot of asian people in Brazil, but also Africans, Southern Europeans, some German Speaking People (with a weird dialect), but also russian enclaves, polish people and of course some aboriginals are existing.

Regarded to hitchhiking it is a bit difficult to evaluate. Brazil is very big and hitchhiking in the different parts of the country worked variable good. In the north i had long waiting times and the people stopped rarely. However i also discovered, that the cars are often just full with family and friends. From Las Palmas i was on the transit highway in direction south and could, even with my poor Portugese, manage to talk to the people. The hitchhiking went really well from here on. Until Porto Allegre i had a very good run. In the deep south it became terrible again, especially in the region around pelotas i had ridiculous long waiting time. People seemed not very sympathic, also of Germans and Polish people around and everything a bit more conservative.

What i else can say about brazilian people is, that they care alot about cleanness. You can have a free shower almost everywhere. I also recognized people riding a motorbike and carrying a heavy parfum smell with them. Never experienced that before. I general it seemed a bit neurotic to me, if you include this permanent fear which seemed taking over whole brazilian society. This might also be a reason why people don´t stop easily. They are afraid of hitchhikers.

Roads

There is a highway infrastructure in whole Brazil. BR is the notation. The condition of the roads is very divers. This is depended on the different states, because in Brazil the states take care about the roads, not the Federation, like in Germany. Behind venezuelian border the street is in good condition, new, on laned and nice. This is changing after Boa Vista. The road is still in good condition, but there are some short and mean parts, which are blessed with deep potholes or mud road passages, before the street goes on normal. I don´t understand this. Furthermore there aren´t much vilages in the north, but alos of farms and short distance traffic, which is very annoying to hitchhike.

From south of Santarem starts the Transamazonica. I will write a specific article about this road, it was one of the most amazing roads i ever took. Everytime when you think: „Wow, this part was really nice, this hill was really steep, that was really fucked up and ah, this beautiful picture i cannot find again“, the raod suprises you and gets after the next hill even more fucked up, amazing, beautiful or nice. In general you can compare the Transamazonica country road that got plowed two times, filled with some big heavy stones and on top of that some red earth. And then the steady up and down along the hilly amazonian area. In best case the raod is „just“ dusty, but when it begins to rain it shows its bitchy shape. But later more about this.

In the interior everything gets better, as soon as you get to the first Auto Posto Station. These are kind of big gas stations. Trucks have to stop here to get some stamp, but i didn´t get the system. You get shower and coffee for free, 24/7 tatsy meals for moderate prices. It is deluxe hitchhikers infrastructure. Especially in Sao Paolo and Guiania the roads as the Auto Postos are very well and no comparison to the amazonian area. In the south the roads get tighter and the quality decreases if you head forward to the uruguayan border.

Tactics

Okay, i spend some kilometers and days in Brazil and the hitchhiking was a real challenge. The waiting times in the first two days have been quite stressing. Day 1; (1) 26 min, (2) 1h31min, (3) 1 min. Day 2; (1) 2h 48 min, (2) 59 min, (3) 4 min, (4) 1h 41min. But the waiting time was rewarded with long-distance-lifts. In Brazil i had the longest lift in my life with 1582 km.

The problem in the north have been the full cars and the short-distance cars, that where going to the farms and wouldn´t stop. My solution: Walking. I developed quite fast the habit, to go 2-3 kilometer into the middle of nowhere. If you are more outside the cars are stopping sooner, at least in my opinion. Roads are long and straight in general, which provides a good vision for the driver, also if they are going fast.

Beside that there are the well known bumpers like in Venezuela. Everytime a good choice.

Especially in the interior and in the south are alot of Toll-Stations and military checkpoints. The Toll-Stations are a good choise for the night hitchhiking, cause there is light all the time and you catch the whole traffic of the highway. In daytime there is a bit too much traffic, but hitchhiking works.

With a little portugese you can speak with the people at the gas stations, which worked quit good for me. With some charme and clumsiness even the brazilians will lose their fear and it is similar to hitchhiking in Germany.

What i realized later is, that the number plates in Brazil are perfect for hitchhiking, cause they are featured with alot of information. You can find the state as the place of register. A perfekt reference point to get cars in the right direction and very useful if you ask at the gas stations.

Also to add might be, the „Familia“ or „Family“ trucks. They got, ironically, only one seat and can´t take hitchhikers. I never saw this before. Also really charming is, that some trucks have explicitly written on their outside that they aren´t allowed to take someone. „Carroña prohibide“ or something like this. Weird.

Pictures

Specifics

Will add something later.

Der Beitrag Hitchhiking in… (7) Brazil erschien zuerst auf Warm Roads.