Die Große Plan

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Trying to fight the summer heat and the anxiety of the endless wait for the car repair, we set out to find the coldest place in Brazil that we can reach from Sao Paulo. And under that assumption we chose to head to the highest town in Brazil, sitting at 1600m above sea level, Campos do Jordaõ. We arrive in town and immediately delight in a 10°C difference. The town itself draws inspiration from Bavarian architecture, and the effect is quite striking after having been in South America for almost two months now. The food also offers a bridge to Europe, German sausage is the main attraction here, but around every corner you can also get a fondue, usually both of cheese and then chocolate, if your stomach can handle it.

We make our way to our hotel, and after struggling to pay, most of the town has an acute aversion to our credit card, only accepting either PIX or cash. We settle down. The hotel is an old wooden house that has been repurposed to accommodate guests, the architecture reminiscent of a chalet with wooden support beams and tinted wooden walls. The most exciting part for us still is the anticipation of sleeping without having to suffer from the heat during the night.

Feeling refreshed by a cold night we start with the usual breakfast of choice in Brazil, strawberry yogurt and Paõ de Queijo, and try and figure out a hiking day for the two of us. The region was not only chosen for it’s elevation. Campos do Jordaõ sits in proximity to many hiking trails, including some in the Parque Capivari. There you can observe a great concentration of Araucaria, gigantic trees that used to feed tall dinosaurs in the Cretaceous area, and that today is close to extinction (97%), feeding the human need for lumber.

Before we head out, we take the time to recenter ourselves. We hadn’t really taken the time to be with just the two of us over these past few weeks, and the moments of reconnection that we give each other fill my soul with a renewed energy for the rest of the day. Before we left, Leonie and I had taken a course on “Metta” (loving kindness) meditation. During this course we learnt the power of a simple meditation technique, one where the essence is wishing well on others, and from that simple instruction flowers a whole world of mindfulness. We have practiced it again many time since, and it became a habit for us more and more. With a better grip on reality we start heading out to the hike.

We take an Uber on our way to the Parque Estadual, the expectation being one of visiting a park run by the local government. Upon arriving though we realize we are stepping into a very manufactured park, set up with huge lawns, ornaments and shops, copying what you would expect Disney would do if they were given the keys. Somewhat surprised we pay the 50 Real entry fee and make our way inside. The park is well maintained by any standard. The large alleys respect the towering pines that flank them, the carefully manufactured lawns are traversed by water features, giving the park a verdant atmosphere. On a small lake you can rent swan-shaped boats for a romantic ride, and restaurants and cage provide all sorts of refreshment and food.

We hadn’t expected the manufactured dimension of it, yet, thinking that our experience would be of more of one wilderness, the untouched kind. Making our way hapzardly around we do find the beginning of a trail, tucked in between a food hut and a small shop, jumping over a small stream and into the towering habitat of pines. The trail is marked but clearly indication for it ranked lower than the open air rotisserie that stands in front of it. Still it instills in me a feeling of finding something outside the expected , of defying the expectations set off by the well tucked shirts and the green lawns, of venturing into the wilder nature outside.

The steep path comforts the towering shape of the Araucarias, they only reveal themselves when allowing us to take our eyes off the ground. In the thick vegetation their roots grab a strong hold on the ground and their bark is reminiscent of snake skin, creating scales that spiral high above. The environment offers a stack contrast that projects my mind into deep reflexion. In this Cretaceous forest I feel the smallness of the human time on earth, and the fragility of the earth itself. These trees provided sustenance for the very tallest of dinosaurs, and humans almost brought them into extinction with logging in only a few decades. We reach a plateau above and see the perfect spectacle of the forest, creating platforms, like Lilly pads, high up in the air.

The altitude of the forest allows pines to thrive here, and the Araucarias are neighbours with all kinds of beautiful trees. We take some time to sit under a long-needled pine, with subtle and soft needles that blanket the ground. Here we come to a familiar feeling, the smell of pines reminiscent of Sardinia, and the yellow carpet a soft mat for our slowdown. We sit against the trunk; long enough for the stingless bees to come take an interest in us.

We pick back up the hike and head back down into the lush forest below. The canopy becomes charged by the impossibly complex shape of the mangueiras. And light now has a more difficult path to reach us, bouncing over leaves and through the humid mist. The winding path takes us up and down steps, and hides it’s complexity from us. The little brooks and streams being the only landmark we can keep track of. It’s only when we stumble onto an old logging track that we manage to make our way back. Still on the prowl for more natural exploration we decide to head to a nearby waterfall, pushing us further outside the walled garden.

We make our way up the hill, crossing lush fields of golden herbs, and the incredible menagerie of bumblebees that care for it. Here in this unkept part butterflies, mosquitoes, bees and their companion thrive and multiply without limits. They lead us further on through the path, allowing us for a moment into their world without retenue.

The contrast between the lawn and the grass is stark in that regard; this environment being much more hospitable to support insect life. And despite the fact that we have to cover ourselves in insect repellent again I feel sadness at the fact that this biodiversity is struggling so much to come to the surface in Europe. That even the bees themselves, so essential to our survival are barely holding on to their numbers and are disappearing.

We slowly make our way to the waterfall, guided by the passing butterflies showing us the way along. As we sit down I keep thinking of how to preserve all this beauty, how to help give it forward a generation or more from now. For now it seems only my memories and my accounts will do.