''What does it say on your flag?'' asks the boy, ''Order and progress, the two things we don't have we put on our flag to remind us'' replies the Brazilian girl. My experience is contrary, more progressive than I expected.
It's been a long few weeks in Brazil. My first conversation to a group of boys at my first petrol stop set the tone for a happy and laughing people when I misunderstood their question of ''Who is going to win the World Cup?'', thinking I was asked ''Who are you supporting in the World Cup?'' which explains why when I replied ''Australia'' they all jumped around laughing, tapping the floor hysterically. They love to smile and laugh here and they love an opportunity to dance.
It's been full of repeated arrivals, good times and farewells with familiar faces, buffet lunch stops with interesting characters and very long, flat rides on the highways, wide open spaces, climatic zone changes, not much rest and the football. It hasn't all been World Cup related, between the match cities and tourist areas a normal Brazil, often a disinterested Brazil, continues with little reminder of the carnival atmosphere when game days arrive.
After crossing from Paraguay I spent the first night camped at a gas station where these excitable men were all too happy to offer a patch of space by the trucks for me, countless coffee and water refills and a warm introduction to the country. From there I raced up to arrive in Cuiaba` a couple days before Australia's first match. It was a heavy ride which became increasingly humid as I neared the Pantanal area, the massive tropical wetland in the centre of the continent. My hope in match cities was to simply arrive and ask around for where a campsite was, prepared for hotels and even hostels to be excessively priced. I arrived in Cuiaba` after dark, no money in my wallet having had trouble getting cash from the ATM's since arriving in the country and with about a litre of petrol left in the tank. I hadn't felt this kind of humidity since Central America nearly a year ago.
As I arrived on the city outskirts I asked a man in a van beside me at the lights if he knew of a bank nearby that would take VISA. He offered to lead the way, then to a shopping centre when it refused my card. I eventually found some cash, he then offered to take me to a gas station. He seemed a generous guy and curious to meet a foreigner so when I told him I was here for the football and was looking for a campground preferably close to the stadium he offered to drive ahead of me to the stadium. Asking around at the stadium for a nearby campsite, the security guards, police and general public weren't much help despite the phone calls they made. I was glad when Volter hinted he had some space in his front yard but it may be uncomfortable as his dogs will be barking all night and I wouldn't be able to sleep. I was prepared to take anything at this point having ridden over 700km's and now sweaty and exhausted. Shortly after calling his wife to convince her to let a stranger put his tent up at their place we headed over where I was met by Volter's wife Neia and 13 year old son Andre`, a cold shower before parking Sixto behind the gate and setting up my tent on the concrete in their old open air kitchen as their small home was being refurbished. I went to sleep knowing I'd met a warm family and there would be an interesting time ahead with them in the following days in a distinctly Brazilian part of the country.
Volter working hard with his VW Kombi courier van
I was woken very early the next morning to Volter and Andre pulling up stools by the tent and eager to get their curious questions out. Because of the heat I slept with just the tent flysheets so I stayed in the tent while we chatted for an hour or so. With a bit of effort we seemed to converse quite well as I spoke Spanish with a few words of Portuguese I'd memorised and Volter doing the reverse. I had nowhere to be for the next day and a half, just needing to get a SIM to contact Steve to arrange our meet up so I spent the time with my newly met family. I joined Volter at work as a courier. We made deliveries from his factory where he introduced me to many people in his office and had a memorable barbeque lunch at Neia's work as a kindergarten teacher where they had a big break up ahead of Brazil's first match with barbeque, music and dance and more happy Brazilians to meet. We watched the Brazil match and walked the streets after to celebrate the win. The following day all I wanted was a sleep in but was woken up early again to head off to work with Volter spending the morning together before meeting the game crew for the first time a few hours before the match. I had to move on a couple of days later but Volter's hospitality won't be forgotten and remains my most Brazilian experience after three weeks. We had a good laugh together and he offered a big insight on how live is lived up here in a less influenced part of Brazil.
I've been joining the group of 15 or so before the Australia matches then leaving them a day after the match while I took to the roads between Cuiaba`, Porto Alegre and Curitiba for little more than lunch stops, petrol stops and hotel rests. It's been fresh and overwhelming, I've had to pick up the pace from my comfortable mode of the past months in Patagonia. I had to put on my drinking hat, enjoying the Aussie humour, joining in the fun and get used to long conversations in English. It's great to spend time with family after so long. Match days have been exciting despite the loses, the stadium's atmospheres were intense, particularly the Dutch match, our hospitality tickets offered an open bar and sandwiches for seven hours which kept us going for the evenings. The tournament is in full swing these days, it's hard not to embrace the atmosphere and occasion as the average Brazilian seems willing to get involved in the festivities.
With my cousins Laura, Rob and Steve.
