The Travel Diary: Adventures in the untouched wilderness of Brazil
- Text by Eren Saracevic
- Photography by Eren Saracevic
Vale do Pati, in Brazil’s Chapada Diamantina National Park, is not easy to reach. From Salvador de Bahía airport, it’s an eight-hour, 284-mile bus ride to get to Palmeiras. From there, it’s a one-hour rocky road (one hour being lucky and with a failure-proof Volkswagen van) to cover another 13 miles to Caeté-Açu.
The closer you get to the valley, the slower transportation is – and even though the distances are getting shorter, the time it takes to travel them seems to expand. For the final 12 miles, you have to go on foot and, even at a quick pace, it will take no less than eight hours to reach the Vale do Pati.
Once there, the distance from Europe is not only physical. There’s no wi-fi. There’s no hot water. There’s no meat, and no fridge to keep it in. There’s no base for your bed and no memory foam pillow. There’s no traffic, no amber lights, no horns. There’s no fear of being assaulted, robbed, beaten or shot. There are no cameras, microphones, screens, and no big brother watching you. Nobody asks what your job is, how much you make, what neighbourhood you live in, or who you hang out with. The stock exchange doesn’t rise or fall, and nobody begs on the streets. There’s no news. There are no clocks.
After a few days, you come to learn how our surroundings have shaped both our values, and the way we behave. I don’t think every person can live in Pati – I don’t even think I can live there. The people who live there have had to adapt their characters to their environment. Shopping for food, let’s say, is methodical – you know that four hours on a donkey separate you from your purchases. If it’s the wet season, you can spend days caught up in the valley, just waiting for the rain to stop. And it’s best not to think about the closest hospital.
Little by little, you realise how our development has twisted our relationship with nature. In the city, nature is present only as an ornament or an attraction. But here, nature surrounds you – you become the ornament.
Eren Saracevic is an art director, designer and visual essayist. This photo story is taken from the first issue of his magazine Souvenir.
Enjoyed this article? Like Huck on Facebook or follow us on Twitter.
Latest on Huck
How trans rights activism and sex workers’ solidarity emerged in the ’70s and ’80s
Shoulder to Shoulder — In this extract from writer Jake Hall’s new book, which deep dives into the history of queer activism and coalition, they explore how anti-TERF and anti-SWERF campaigning developed from the same cloth.
Written by: Jake Hall
A behind the scenes look at the atomic wedgie community
Stretched out — Benjamin Fredrickson’s new project and photobook ‘Wedgies’ queers a time-old bullying act by exploring its erotic, extreme potential.
Written by: Isaac Muk
“Welcome to the Useless Class”: Ewan Morrison in conversation with Irvine Welsh
For Emma — Ahead of the Scottish author’s new novel, he sat down with Irvine Welsh for an in-depth discussion of its dystopic themes, and the upcoming AI “tsunami”.
Written by: Irvine Welsh
“Struggle helps people come together”: Sharon Van Etten & The Attachment Theory
Huck’s February interview — To hear more about the release of the indie darling’s first collaborative album, we caught up with her and Devra Hoff to hear about the record, motherhood in music and why the ’80s are back,
Written by: Isaac Muk
Nxdia: “Poems became an escape for me”
What Made Me — In this series, we ask artists and rebels about the forces and experiences that shaped who they are. Today, it’s Egyptian-British alt-pop shapeshifter Nxdia.
Written by: Nxdia
Kathy Shorr’s splashy portraits inside limousines
The Ride of a Lifetime — Wanting to marry a love of cars and photography, Kathy Shorr worked as a limousine driver in the ’80s to use as a studio on wheels. Her new photobook explores her archive.
Written by: Miss Rosen