This may not seem a problem to anyone, but this was a massive problem for^41
Amanda, who had aquaphobia. A man offered to paddle us across, but a more
significant issue was getting Amanda onto the boat and across the river. It took a
considerable time to locate a life jacket. Still, it didn’t do much to ease her fear.
Scared to death, she eventually got onto the tiny wooden boat containing our bikes
and panniers and arrived alive on the other side. I felt sorry for her, but what else
was there to do? Regrettably, no card was delivered, and the inn had no internet
connection to find where the card could be. Nevertheless, Amanda swallowed a
beer in about two seconds and looked more like her old self.
If anyone wanted to disappear off the face of the planet, this would be the place to
do it. The inn was on a river and had beautiful, comfortable rooms, a lovely
restaurant and a bar, all set in a lush garden sporting palm trees and
hummingbirds. There wasn’t anything more to the settlement than the inn, a few
houses, and a pub or two. Staff doted over us like we were the Queens of England.
This was well-deserved treatment after Amanda’s ordeal of the past two days.
Barra Nova
The following morning, a costly taxi ride via a sandy track took us to a nearby
village. Amanda clung onto the door frame for all she was worth as we sped along
the potholed, sandy path. All in search of an internet connection and a bank (both
found). In the process, she learned the bank hadn’t even posted the card and we
retreated along the sandy track to Aratu Pousada.
Staff informed us a twenty-five-kilometre sandy path ran to the main road and onto
the bigger town of Sao Mateus. By evening, Amanda was already stressing about
the sandy path. She feared she would’ve to walk her bike all the way, mumbling
her, by then, trademark phrase: “I’m never going to make it.”