On the way to the promised land

A house wall in the middle of nowhere in the Brazilian pampas proclaims: “God has abandoned us”. This irritates me in two ways. Firstly, Brazilians are the Salafists among Christians. Anyone who does not attend at least three of the five weekly masses offered in each village is officially considered a pagan. Secondly, we are on our way to the promised land, and that is not possible without a God.

Our God is the wind. It certainly brings a lot of wealth to Brazil. When a wind farm is built here, a factory, roads and sometimes a whole village are built at the same time. We drive through endless forests of wind turbines. Yes, the sunset would be more beautiful without them. But if I have the choice between forests of rotary blades and sushi glowing in the dark, my choice is clear.

The crusaders were already complaining about high hostel prices 800 years ago. Today we are the knights, we ride the waves, our lances are called kites. As soon as it says “kite” anywhere, the prices are guaranteed to double. We haven’t generally asked for prices at any “kite pousada” for a while now. And even at those without “Kite” in front, our next spot, Icarai de Amontada, remains an expensive place. Only after some searching and thanks to Ian’s negotiating skills do we find a room for 100 R$ a night.

The kite spot Icarazihno is 50 metres from the Pousada Marina Mar. At the western end of the bay of Icarai there are very few waves, at least at low tide, thanks to the cover provided by a headland. Even if it’s a bit bumpy outwards: a speed track several hundred metres long stretches inland. We heat the afternoon to the ground at an extremely stubborn 5 to 25 knots. The spray splashes so violently that the salt seems to eat through the cornea of our eyes.

In the evening, we pray the same old caipi wreath: there’s not really anything going on anywhere. Icarai has just one bar. On a Friday evening, we are glad not to be the only guests at Praiazinho. Ceviche and caipiriha are a hot pairing. I like travelling in silence, and sometimes alone. But Brazil is always just a little too empty for me.

The next day brings epic winds early in the morning. With 25 to 30 knots, we really have to set up the small kites for the first time – and even our small kites are once again the biggest in the sky. My 9 loses air and the tips buckle when jumping. Too dangerous in these conditions. I remove the front tube of a OnePump kite for the first time. After 4 hours I haven’t found a hole but at least I’ve restored the kite. The afternoon session brings high jumps, fat waves and slightly less stubborn wind than the day before. We are ready for the promised land.