As if injected with a shot containing a little bit of everything, I feel revived, swimming in a pool of contentment, tranquility and a feeling usually unknown to me: at rest. After nearly three weeks inactivity, I must take a day off to reset back into camping, fires and bread baking.
‘You are not going to Caraapó?’ asks a man, who parked his car next to me now I have stopped to ask someone directions to buy food.
No, I am not going there, I reply.
‘Oh, that’s good! Caraapó is not good.’
Why not? I ask.
What do I know about Brazil? That they are the creators of the toe-slipper brand Havaianas and Ipanema, though I take with me Lowa mountain wear shoes. Of which the shoestring get strangled and I fall stretched out, first thing at the airport.