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
This erotic zine dismantles LGBTQ+ respectability politics
Zine Scene — Created by Megan Wallace and Jack Rowe, PULP is a new print publication that embraces the diverse and messy, yet pleasurable multitudes that sex and desire can take.
Written by: Isaac Muk
As Tbilisi’s famed nightclubs reawaken, a murky future awaits
Spaces Between the Beats — Since Georgia’s ruling party suspended plans for EU accession, protests have continued in the capital, with nightclubs shutting in solidarity. Victor Swezey reported on their New Year’s Eve reopening, finding a mix of anxiety, catharsis and defiance.
Written by: Victor Swezey
Los Angeles is burning: Rick Castro on fleeing his home once again
Braver New World — In 2020, the photographer fled the Bobcat Fire in San Bernardino to his East Hollywood home, sparking the inspiration for an unsettling photo series. Now, while preparing for its exhibition, he has had to leave once again, returning to the mountains.
Written by: Miss Rosen
Ghais Guevara: “Rap is a pinnacle of our culture”
What Made Me — In our new series, we ask artists and rebels about the forces and experiences that have shaped who they are. First up, Philadelphian rap experimentalist Ghais Guevara.
Written by: Ghais Guevara
Gaza Biennale comes to London in ICA protest
Art and action — The global project, which presents the work of over 60 Palestinian artists, will be on view outside the art institution in protest of an exhibition funded by Bloomberg Philanthropies.
Written by: Cyna Mirzai
Ragnar Axelsson’s thawing vision of Arctic life
At the Edge of the World — For over four decades, the Icelandic photographer has been journeying to the tip of the earth and documenting its communities. A new exhibition dives into his archive.
Written by: Cyna Mirzai