Into South America by Motorcyle Jericoacoara

Our Journal

Jericoacoara

After a few days we decided to visit Jericoacoara, by truck this time. From the center passengers pile in the backs of pickups that drive on to Parazihnho and Jijoca de Jericoacoara. The truck drove through a maze of sand roads and ranch houses in the middle of nowhere. A guide would have been a must. Two minutes after arriving in Jijoca we caught another truck to Jeri. The guy next to me was a shirt salesman who showed me his wares, a kind of Hawaiian patterned guallavera. I mentioned that it was a good shirt for the beach and he exclaimed, “This shirt IS the beach!” Through these dunes, trails split off in all directions. The sand is soft, the kind you see in the Paris – Dakar, and I was really glad we never got this far on the bikes. Without a guide, we would have been lost. Jericoacoara is still a functioning fishing village but really it is mostly tourists. Nice restaurants, bars, cafes, and pousadas everywhere. Unfortunately that brings lots of Italians and their prostitutes from Fortaleza. We found Jodi’s place on the outskirts right by the dunes, separated from the mayhem. We had called ahead and knew that Jodi would return to Jeri the night before. What we didn’t know is that she was returning with her newborn baby. This was Jodi that had worked with Matt in Bolivia. She bought a Honda 250 and drove all over South America for two years with one rule, no asphalt, only dirt roads. I laugh about once hitting a pig, she once hit a cow, broker her collar bone and the only medical support was a local shaman. She arrived in Jeri four years ago and after spending three days there bought land and began building her pousada, herself. Now it is eight different units around a swimming pool and bar. Each bungalow was designed and built by her (and workers helping). Now she is a mother who just that afternoon was up doing roof work before coming down to nurse. Her husband Mauricio showed up with a puppy a day later. Her pousada is booked months in advance and it hosts a kite-surfing school as well. We ate with Jodi and her band of kite-surfing instructors and friends who are always there. Her mother was visiting to help out with the baby.

There is a famous arched rock near Jeri that you can hike to. We set out in the middle of the day and started walking. After about an hour and half of walking through the dunes we saw two of Jodi’s friends go by in a buggy. They stared at us in disbelief asking why we were walking in the middle of nowhere, the rocks were in the complete opposite direction. We got a ride back to town and set off in the other direction past the throngs of kite surfing Italians and their rented girls waiting on the beach. Tide was coming in so reaching the rocks was impossible. We got burned bad and the next day decide on leaving Jeri since we couldn’t get in the sun anyway. We said our goodbyes to Jodi and family and got a truck back to Jijoca only to find there were to trucks back to Granja. We found a private driver to take us and crossed the bridge into Granja once more.

Back in Granja things were the same, more visits, sitting in front of Wagner’s, moto boys taking us out. We finally departed and drove on to Fortaleza. The ride to Sobral is one of the best we’ve seen. It rises into the mountains through dry land, farms of palms, a few bony cows, and goats on the roadside. Sobral is a bigger city, proof being that there is internet and banks that take our cards. From Sobral to Fortaleza there is a terrible stretch of potholed road. Sometimes with potholes I feel the force and glide through the asteroids like the Millennium Falcon, other times I’m a first day padawan with a low metachlorine count unable to focus on the here and now. The road rises into poor mountain towns and if the roadstops are any indication, people aren’t so open with their talk. Midway to Fortaleza, there are turnoffs for beaches and the road is excellent, the benefits of tourism.