Bug Me
Trip Start
Feb 07, 2011
1
10
54
Trip End
Nov 30, 2011
Natal, State of Rio Grande do Norte, Brazil
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
Ahhhh Dune. One of my fave Sci-Fi novels of all time and my first introduction to the awe-inspiring sight of David Bowie in skin-tight leggings in its movie adaptation.
It's also one of the big draws for this area of north-eastern Brazil (not David Bowie in the leggings, the Dunes, I mean). For action adventure types there’s plenty to sink your action adventure teeth into, and so for this reason we were leaving gorgeous Pipa and heading north on a two hour bus ride to Natal.
(Note – do NOT leave visiting the incredible Aqui or Pacifico restaurants to the last day of your stay in Pipa if that day happens to be a Monday, as you will find both disappointingly shut and end up stomping about town in a grump for half an hour trying to find a suitable alternative nosherie.)
Natal is the centre of the dune-buggying universe. It’s a messy sprawl of a town with little to recommend it to the discerning traveller, so we opted instead to hang out at Ponta Negra, a beachside suburb just 10km outside.
We had just 48 hours to slip in as much excitement as our pants could stand and so scheduled a day trip on the dunes the very next day.
Someone should have checked the weather report. After 20 days of non-stop 40 degree sunshine, Natal was rudely awakened the day of our tour to absolutely torrential rain. It paused long enough for us to check with reception as to whether our tour would go ahead and were assured it would. By 9am we were strapped into our buggy and racing north into the eye of the storm.
Shua, being the lucky bugger that he is, got to relax in the shelter of the front seat. I, meanwhile, was packed-in so tightly next to two rotund Portugese hippies that I could only actually squeeze one bum cheek onto the back-seat. Halfway through the trip, Mrs Ageing Hippy decided she’d sat long enough and would spend the rest of the journey standing up on the seat. This had not only the fortunate effect of freeing up some leg and bum room for me, but also the slightly less fortunate effect of planting her g-stringed buttocks firmly in my face whenever I turned my head. At one point, we were jolted so roughly across a sand track, that her dimpled bottom bounced so hard it actually swallowed my shoulder.
Shoulder swallowing bottoms aside, the buggying was incredible. Yes, the weather could have been better, but for the most part we managed to avoid the downpours which we could see battering the coast in the distance.
We started with a trip to the lagoon for some snaps. For some reason the buggy park here was full of men leading donkeys bedecked with flowers. I wasn’t sure if this was a religious thing or just a tourist ploy but quickly realised the relieving of reias from unsuspecting travellers was to be a common theme. Every stop we made there was some kind of enterprising tourist-fleecing photo opportunity. From photos with iguanas to Bedouin camel rides, the Brazilians were certainly creative with their tactics to relieve you of your hard earned cash.
Some, however, were more ingenious than others. One of the spots we visited featured an enormous sandy hill, at the top of which sat a kind of wooden sled on a rope. After a quick, white knuckle ride up the inclinator, you popped yourself onto the sled and then whooshed down the hill at full speed into a waiting pool of dubious water. At least, that’s the general idea. Unless you’re Shua. In which case you slip slowly down the slope until you’re about ten metres from the water, where you complete some weird, abstract kind of somersault off the sled followed by a slow-mo roly-poly into the water below to the intense amusement of all who are watching. Good one Shua.
Leaving this place, the storm began in earnest, pelting us poor souls in the back of the buggy with icy needles of rain as we huddled, cheek to (literal) cheek. We raced across the dunes performing some truly death defying manoeuvres. Our drivers 'star move’, if you like, was to race insanely fast to the top of a dune and then shoot over the top and plummet into a vertical drop, hooting like a loon and screaming "SURPRISE!!". I think the surprise was all his as I screamed low enough to burst ear drums at one point, but it was all good pant-pooing fun.
The weather had turned so bad that it was a relief to jump out at the next stop for some respite from the rain, but it did mean we were loathe to jump back in the water and so missed out on the opportunity to death slide some 200 metres into the waiting lagoon, or enjoy the delights of the vertical slippery slide, which basically consisted of a length of plastic sheeting run down the side of a mountain with some bloke at the top occasionally slinging a bucket of water down it.
We returned, in the pouring rain, to our pousada with ‘mi dolo nalgas’, exhausted by adrenalin and the physical exertions required to stay inside a buggy hurtling up and down sand dunes. We had a day of lounging on the beach before catching a flight and a bus to our next stop – the trekking centre of Bahia: Lencois.
Comments
Funniest blog so far! Shoulder swallowing buttocks and 'dolo nalgas', who could ask for more?! x
Just read through the last three 'blogs'....Zoe, you could easily give Bill Bryson a run for his money!! When you return to Oz collate all the blogs and you'll have a best seller on your hands...and a few bob in el banco! So glad your having such a great time and thanks for sharing it with us, love you both....Mum xx