They say the next best thing to a 4x4 is a hire car. I’d qualify that: a hire car with comprehensive insurance, robust roadside assistance and a driver with questionable judgment.
This was our consolation as we lurched down the Transpanteneira Highway, deep in Brazil’s Pantanal, in what could generously be called a vehicle. Every source — the internet, guidebooks, actual humans — warned: never attempt this road in the rain without four-wheel drive. It’s the middle of the dry season but, naturally, it was raining. Hard. The track had become a muddy ice rink, and our car had the traction of a dining chair.
We didn’t even have proper wipers. Instead, every few minutes we leaned out the window and doused the windscreen with sparkling water — an accidental purchase born of our (lack of) Portuguese vocabulary, which evidently did not include “sem gás.”
The Transpanteneira runs 145 km from Pocone to Porto Jofre. Literally the end of the road and our aspirational final destination. At the 100 km mark, oncoming drivers slowed to tell us to turn back. But the idea of retracing our route was worse than the risk of continuing — not bravado, just a deep unwillingness to suffer the same misery twice.
Braking only locked the tyres, sending us skating toward one of the road’s 120 wooden bridges. Most are flimsy, narrow planks suspended over swamp. Timing when to hit the brakes to start the slide was an art — a kind of rustic roulette. We came alarmingly close to losing a round.
Eventually, the inevitable: a slow, graceful slide into the roadside mud, where the car came to a sinking halt. Dusk was coming on, and we were preparing for a night in the car when a divine combination of reverse gear, first gear, and blind faith wrenched us free.
A local informed us there was a lodge 16 km ahead. We limped there in the twilight, caked in mud (both us and the car), relieved to arrive — and quietly certain that every sensible person who’d warned us was absolutely right.
With a much needed beer in hand, we managed to arrange a lift to Porto Jofre for the morning. We bedded down for the night to the sound of Hyacinth Macaws roosting above us - these beautiful birds being quite the consolation.
In the morning our knight in shining armour arrived in the form of Daniel - a thick set Pantaneiro in his mid 50’s who looked like he had just smoked a joint - his trusty steed, a Toyota Hilux. Daniel spoke no English but we managed to bond over the words “traction control” and “diff lock” whilst he laughed at the state of our vehicle.
Three days later we would be following Daniel at night (in his flops) through the wetland searching for giant anacondas by torchlight. But perhaps for another time. For now, it’s safe to say that his sense of self preservation differs somewhat from ours.
Daniel drove like a maniac. The car sliding from one side of the road to the other in what we hoped was controlled chaos. Every few minutes he would tap the dashboard mid slide, wink and say “Hilux”. Like a war zone, cars lay strewn in the road abandoned in the mud the night before. Thank god we stopped - we would never have made it.
But it felt like a fitting end to our troubles as we careened down the Transpantaneira with this crazy Brazilian at the wheel, capybaras and caiman zipping past us in a blur and the operatic Joao Mineiro blaring from the speakers.
Not only were we going to make it to Porto Jofre but we had a small boat waiting there to take us up river that morning to search for jaguars. Suddenly, it all felt rather easy.
Until next time.
I can't imagine my daughter in the car !!!!!! haha ......
Andrew hope you are well .......
What a wonderful afterwards memory great description