From ‘Into the Wild’ by Jon Krakauer

Dark spruce forest frowned on either side the frozen waterway. The trees had been stripped by a recent wind of their white covering of frost, and they seemed to lean toward each other, black and ominous, in the fading light. A vast silence reigned over the land. The land itself was a desolation, lifeless, without movement, so lone and cold that the spirit of it was not even that of sadness. There was a hint in it of laughter, but of a laughter more terrible than any sadness – a laughter that was mirthless as the smile of the Sphinx, a laughter cold as the frost and partaking of the grimness of infallibility. It was the masterful and incommunicable wisdom of eternity laughing at the futility of life and the effort of life. It was the Wild, the savage, frozen-hearted Northland Wild.

JACK LONDON,

WHITE FANG

I wanted movement and not a calm course of existence. I wanted excitement and danger and the chance to sacrifice myself for my love. I felt in myself a superabundance of energy which found no outlet in our quiet life.

LEO TOLSTOY,

“FAMILY HAPPINESS”

Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth. I sat at a table where were rich food and wine in abundance, an obsequious attendance, but sincerity and truth were not; and I went away hungry from the inhospitable board. The hospitality was so cold as the ices.

HENRY DAVID THOREAU,

WALDEN, OR LIFE IN THE WOODS

The physical domain of the country had its counterpart in me. The trails I made led outward into the hills and swamps, but they led inward also. And from the study of things underfoot, and from reading and thinking, came a kind of exploration, myself and the land. In time the two became one in my mind. With the gathering force of an essential thing realizing itself out of early ground, I faced in myself a passionate and tenacious longing – to put away thought forever, and all the trouble it brings, all but the nearest desire, direct and searching. To take the trail and not look back. Whether on foot, on snowshoes or by sled, into the summer hills and their late freezing shadows – a high blaze, a runner track in the snow would show where I had gone. Let the rest of mankind find me if it could

JOHN HAINES,

THE STARS, THE SNOW, THE FIRE:

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN THE NORTHERN WILDERNESS

But have you noticed the slight curl at the end of Sam II’s mouth when he looks at you? It means that he didn’t want you to name him Sam II, for one thing, and for two other things it means that he has a sawed-off in his left pant leg, and a baling hook in his right pant leg, and is ready to kil you with either one of them, given the opportunity. The father is taken aback. What he usually says, in such a confrontation, is “I changed your diapers for you, little snot.” This is not the right thing to say. First, it is not true (mothers change nine diapers out of ten), and second, it instantly reminds Sam II of what he is mad about. He is mad about being small when you were big, but no, that’s not it, he is mad about being helpless when you were powerful, but no, not that either, he is mad about being contingent when you were necessary, not quite it, he is insane because when he loved you, you didn’t notice.

DONALD BARTHELME

THE DEAD FATHER

My father was a volatile, extremely complicated person, possessed of a brash demeanour that masked deep insecurities. If he ever in his entire life admitted to being wrong, I wasn’t there to witness it.

At that stage of my youth, death remained as abstract a concept as non-Euclidean geometry or marriage. I didn’t yet appreciate its terrible finality or the havoc it could wreck on those who’d entrusted the deceased with their hearts. I was stirred by the dark mystery of mortality. I couldn’t resist stealing up to the edge of doom and peering over the brink. The hint of what was concealed in those shadows terrified me, but I caught sight of something in the glimpse, some forbidden and elemental riddle that was no less compelling than the sweet, hidden petals of a woman’s sex.

I wished to acquire the simplicity, native feelings, and virtues of savage life; to divest myself of the facticious habits, prejudices and imperfections of civilization; …..and to find, amidst the solitude and grandeur of the western wilds, more correct views of human nature and of the true interests of man. The season of snows was preferred, that I might experience the pleasure of suffering, and the novelty of danger.

ESTWICK EVANS,

A PEDESTRIOUS TOUR, OF FOUR THOUSAND MILES,

THROUGH THE WESTERN STATES AND TERRITORIES,

DURING THE WINTER AND SPRING OF 1818

Starvation is not a pleasant way to expire. In advanced stages of famine, as the body begins to consume itself, the victim suffers muscle pain, heart disturbances, loss of hair, dizziness, shortness of breath, extreme sensitivity to cold, physical and mental exhaustion. The skin becomes discolored. In the absence of key nutrients, a severe chemical imbalance develops in the brain, inducing convulsions and hallucinations. Some people who have been brought back from the far edge of starvation, though, report that near the end the hunger vanishes, the terrible pain dissolves, and the suffering is replaced by a sublime euphoria, a sense of calm accompanied by transcendent mental clarity…..

From ‘Don't Ask Any old bloke for directions. A Biker's whimsical journey across India’ by P G Tenzing

That was my life. Spent in groping around areas I didn’t know or care about. And having to deal with the vicious in-fighting that goes on inside every government I have ever served.

Dechen went out yesterday to a celebration of the Gurung New Year, and met a clouded leopard on the way. The way to greet a leopard around here is to scream bloody murder and run like hell. The cat eschews the screaming part but runs like hell in the other direction.

The number of accidents on Kerala’s roads is one of the highest per capita in India. The obvious reasons are narrow roads, habitation throughout the road length, too many vehicles, over-speeding and drunken driving. Over-speeding is the crux of the matter, and here the typical Malayali ego trip comes into play: I can drive faster and better than any fucker on the road.

The traffic eases as I reach the district of Palghat. I see a man pee on the side of the road. This is the rarest of rare sights in Kerala because of the density of population – and the general absence of the penile exhibitionism rampant everywhere in the country. I stop the bike and pee in joyful brotherhood with him.

Food. Food in Kerala is to die for. Fish, chicken, pork, beef, whatever, all cooked in delectable coconut oil. Except putte – a rice-based cylindrical piece of poison which can choke you during breakfast. I suspect this dish was created to get rid of guests who overstay.

Tamils are extremely courteous, Everybody is a Sir. A young woman on a scooter told me that my side-stand was up. The only unknown woman to engage with me on her own initiative throughout the journey – if you discount the obscene gesture made to me by a prostitute somewhere in north India.

Tai Chi has always fascinated me. ….Looks easier than it is. Much easier. The system is very hard on the hips and the balance required is phenomenal.

I’d replaced the jeans I’d worn earlier with baggy cotton pants. Jockeys, I found, were the best undergarments, because even a minor crease around the posterior can play havoc after a few hours. At times I’ve had to raise myself from the bike to give air and solace to the weeping twins.

The government services are generally reviled by the chattering classes and, at times, rightly so. However, in defence of the services, I have to say that many officers work hard and honestly under extremely adverse conditions and still make a difference in the lives of some of the poor of our land. That is the gospel truth. I swear I have seen saints at work who could make you feel worthless. On the flipside, there are also those ghouls who enter into a macabre dance with pot-bellied netas.

I was to live in a village with the Santhal and Kolha tribes……The staple diet is mostly watery rice with salt. A special occasion is marked with a feast of boiled edible leaves from the forest along with raw onion and chilly. And most of the work is done by women, while the men drink the blues away. …..The strange thing about this village is the cleanliness. No garbage. They have nothing to buy from the markets, so there is no refuse. There are no cats and dogs in the village, because there is no food for them. They would be competition, in fact, for a source of protein: field mice. This is a part of India we rarely see or hear about. There are millions of such people without hope. I sense a great betrayal from our side. ……An enduring image of my visit to Bhalupani was that of an old lady leaning on a walking stick, carrying water to her hut from a well. Back and forth. Again and again. She had no relatives and survived on handouts from the villagers.

Kolkata is a crazy place. Its premier football clubs have different fish as mascots, and the price of these in the market shoots up or falls with a thud depending on which team is the winner of the match on a given day.

The guy has spent his life in the pursuit of sex and the conclusions he’s drawn from his experiences. ….his theories….having sex with your wife daily ensures her fidelity to you; the act of sex is the best exercise because every part of the body is involved (including yanking at your partner’s hair, which constitutes a scalp massage); the trick to finding out if a woman is faking an orgasm is to look for a faint flush on her chest; women are horniest after eleven in the night; the way to delay ejaculation is to press the depression between the asshole and the balls.

A Buddhist funeral in Sikkim is one messy and long affair. The mourning period is a full forty-nine days. In between, we had to take Dad’s ashes to Bodhgaya …..the holiest place for Buddhists. I felt a blast of energy pass through me inside the main temple. I have never been the same since. Don’t ask me what happened that day. I don’t know, except that it was Dad’s parting gift to me……

Stay in the smaller hotels outside town because you will always get a room. It will be cheaper than the central places, and you will be treated well by the staff.

I know that there is a divide between the honest and dishonest officers in all the states. The honest ones are losing the battle on a daily basis. Some stay and fight every single day. Others look away and manage to keep their own noses clean. Some are looking for a way of moving out of the system somehow.

There is a serious lack of policy-makers in this country, a paucity of long-term thinking, and of think-tanks…..somehow, the country stumbles along.

He was the type of singer who looked deep into your eyes, probing for signs of adulation.

At an accident site near Purnea town, hundreds of people had gathered on the national highway. They had burnt a truck that had mowed down three pedestrians, and were throwing rocks at the policemen at duty. India at work. I quietly slipped away.

Two other sights on that stretch stayed etched in my mind. One was the lines of bare, shitting asses all along the highway…. What with the floodwaters raging below them, there was nowhere else for these poor people to go. The other was scores of dogs run over by trucks on the road, both in Bihar and Bengal.

A study of the bureaucracy would reveal a surprising number of clinically depressed people – roughly 25 per cent, I’d say. All of them square pegs hammered into round holes.

The chicken-neck to Assam was a long and ….wet ride. Passing through the tribal countryside was interesting. Women looked you in the eye boldly. This was a change for me.

I meet Keralites all over the country at the oddest places.

I got talking to the waiter with the grand name of Morning Star. One of the attractive things about people in Meghalaya is that you never know what sort of name will next be sprung at you. From Evening Star, Hopping Stone, General and Captain to Oneboxstar and Cabinet.

Contrary to popular belief, mindless violence does not happen all the time in Bihar. I was greeted and treated well in that state of earthy people. You just didn’t act funny with them – or you lay yourself open to losing a limb or two.

The roads in south India are far better than those in most of the rest of the country.

I wonder why nuns have to look so serious. Loving Jesus should make them smile.

Today, on the west coast road, was a day without public transport and I was happy to give lifts to people who asked. Unlike some other states, Kerala provides a safe community and there was no hesitation on my part.

Goa is very different to the rest of India. The religion, dress, the emancipation of women, its architecture and its ocean of bars, all set it apart. The roads are narrower but well kept.

…Rajasthan…I landed in Beawar. I found the people of the region simple, with an innate sense of hospitality.

From ‘The Psychic Touristg. A voyage intot he curious world of predicting the future’ by William Little

I’m from England – we don’t talk to strangers because they might do something embarrassing like talk back.

This is the home of Darwin’s Rottweiler, otherwise known as Richard Dawkins, the evolutionary biologist and geneticist, and I’m worried that I’m about to get bitten.

Suddenly a man, who I really hope is the gardener, starts up a chainsaw in Dawkins’ front-garden.

From ‘Driving me Crazy about it. Reflections of an American in Japan’ by Anne Crescini

The onsen, or hot spring, is one of the most popular ways for Japanese people to relax, and an integral part of Japanese culture….They are usually separated into male and female areas, but in some cases you can reserve a private family onsen. One thing that makes Japanese hot springs stick out from the hot springs in other countries is that you must bathe naked with strangers, family, and friends ….Swimsuits are not allowed…..My friends tried to assure me that Japanese people don’t pay much attention to others in the onsen, that they are shy themselves ….

About being meiwaku, sometimes I think the Japanese spend their entire lives trying to avoid being a bother to others. Because this is such a group-oriented society, all individual actions are expected to be undertaken while considering the impact your actions will have on others. ….the number one rule of Japanese culture is this: don’t bother or cause trouble to other people.

Most Japanese bathe at night, not in the mornings, like Americans. It is not for them solely a way to clean the body, but to refresh the soul ….While many Americans feel cruddy waking up and going out without showering, most Japanese think it is disgusting to go to bed dirty…. Bathing in Japan is a national obsession. It begins shortly after birth, with the newborn baby scrubbed clean of the afterbirth just hours after arriving, continuing with a daily scouring until mother and child are discharged.

The Japanese love lotteries…

Nose washing is one of the weirdest, but strangely most refreshing medical treatments in Japan. This treatment is common for a variety of ENT ailments from sinus infections to colds, to allergies. The nurse squirts water up one nostril while holding the other one shut, and you snort it out like blowing your nose….after you are finished, it feels great!

People in this country love talking about bowel movements maybe because it is a sign of good health…. Bowel movements tend to be more of a private matter in the U.S.

The doctors, nurses, midwives – everyone was wonderful and contributed to my amazing childbirth experiences in Japan. I received unbelievable compassion and care from these people.

….gaijin (foreigner)…. Japansese spirit of hospitality, the willingness to go out of their way to help others ….for every nice lady to help the gaijin, there is another Japanese who will run screaming in the other direction, “I don’t speak English!!” (even if you ask in Japanese)…. That being said, most Japanese people will go out of their way time and time again to help others. I have experienced their kindness more times than I can count.

…the Japanese custom of buying souvenirs, or omiyage. Every time someone goes anywhere, there is a cultural obligation to buy omiyage of that place (most commonly a snack or some kind of sweets) for everybody from your boss to your friends to your fourth cousin twice removed…. When this gift-giving obsession meets the Japanese concept of duty the result is the okaeshi. This is a complicated beast, but as I understand it, when someone gives you a gift, you are obligated to return the favor…. The most common okaeshi for baby gifts is some kind of food or drink with the child’s name written elaborately in Japanese calligraphy on a paper attached to the gift. The return gift must be between one-third and one-half of the value of the original gift……

There is a concept in Japan called uchi (inside) and soto (outside). The uchi is the group of friends and family around a person. The soto is everybody else. Japanese people will do anything for the people in their uchi, but tend to often be a little more distant to people in the soto. Of course, Japanese are always courteous, and try to avoid bad manners and rudeness at all costs….. But more often than not, they will try to avoid interaction with the soto. This can be seen on trains. Very rarely will people start up conversations with strangers, and eye contact is rare. Most people listen to music, or read comics or newspapers….most Japanese just don’t make it a habit to talk to strangers. ….I was separate, set apart, not allowed into the uchi. I don’t think the Japanese are being spiteful or trying to discriminate. I just think they do not have a lot of experience with foreigners and are not quite sure yet just what to do with us. There is not even a uniform system in the country for writing our names. There are four alphabets used in Japan – Chinese kanji characters are used for Japanese names; katakana is used for foreign names; hiragana, a phonetic alphabet, is sometimes used for Japanese names, especially by children who cannot yet read kanji; and the Roman alphabet. Most of my credit cards, IDs, bankbooks, bills and official documents in Japan have my name written in different ways.

…..in Japan, where conformity to the norm is one of the most important concepts in the culture.

There is a Japanese proverb that says, “Deru kugi wa utareru” (The nail that sticks out will be hammered down.)

The one aspect that bothers me most is the unforgiving spirit I see in the hearts of many Japanese people…..in Japan, I find that one often vows to never forgive a wrong, even if done unintentionally by someone considered a good friend.

…..Japanese adults, especially men, almost never wear shorts. No matter how hot it is, they don’t wear shorts because shorts are considered childish…

….Japanese preschool system ….quality of care, education and nutrition are top notch, and the love the teacchers have for the children is unquestioned…. The Japanese preschool system is the best…..

The Japanese think letting your tummy get cold causes every sickness known to man…….

….seeing new parents drive their precious little bundle of joy home with no car seat, either holding the baby or even worse, placing him or her in a little, cushioned Moses basket on the floor…. I am amazed that a country so careful about protecting pregnant women, and so zealous about the health and education of their children, can be so reckless when it comes to automobile safety and children.

Japanese children are very rarely properly restrained…..

In any country, a law that is not enforced will not be followed. Japan is not any different. Japanese people routinely park in handicapped parking spaces; Americans don’t.

…Japanese houses, with the exception of those on the northern island of Hokkaido, are not equipped with central heating….Why would you spend money and natural resources heating rooms that you are not using?  …..Houses are cold. Schools are cold. Supermarkets, trains, post offices, gyms. Cold. Cold. Cold.

Japanese people don’t adopt. They don’t think about adoption. They don’t talk about adoption….. Much more than in America, blood connection is crucial in Japan. The Japanese feel a strong connection and loyalty to family, and while they may be the most courteous, polite people in the world, love and loyalty is restricted to family. What is family? Although changing recently, family has always been defined in Japan by bloodlines.

….tanshin funin would be “for the primary breadwinner in a family, almost always the father, to live away from his family for an extended period of time for work.”…transfer is inevitable for the Japanese public servant ….Many times, the length of the transfer is unknown, which may be one reason the father goes off by himself…

….children are the center of the family, and education is at the center of a child’s life. When a father is transferred for work, for a child to be uprooted from his school and friends, perhaps disrupting test studies and causing emotional distress, is not an option. In most cases, the mother will stay behind in the family’s home with the children. The father will rent an apartment or stay in company housing during his time of transfer; which is sometimes indefinite.

The societal expectations about work dictate his behavior. Many Japanese businessmen work late into the night, and on the weekends. In addition to regular work duties, they also have regular drinking parties that keep them away from dinnertime with family.

Many Japanese students are good test takers, but have not learned adequately how to express creativity, original thinking, or their opinions on a variety of subjects. Of course, I do not blame the students, but the system that created them…. The inability to express an opinion is one of my biggest problems with education in Japan …. Most Japanese classes are lecture-based, so students just take in information, and have little opportunity to express their opinions or question what they learn ….Many times, because teachers are so respected in Japan, they will just take what the teacher says as truth and not really question it…

Bullying is a big problem in Japanese schools…..

Japanese teachers do not just teach. They morally guide the students…. There is not really a summer vacation, as teachers are expected at school everyday to prepare for the new term, attend meetings…..Many Japanese public school teachers work hours comparable to Japanese businessmen, coming home late every night.

Nervous breakdowns are not uncommon.

Work in Japan can be so stressful that they even have a word for working themselves to death, karoshi

Japanese teachers pour their hearts into their students, but sometimes I wonder if this commitment comes at the cost of their own families.

One of my biggest criticisms of Japan is the lack of moderation I see in everything. They study too much. They work too hard. Sometimes, they even play too hard.

The math education system is also years ahead of the U.S.

The school meals are healthy, cheap and required: students are not allowed to bring their own lunches….students are also responsible for serving them, and cleaning up afterwards. In addition, they must clean their classroom at the end of everyday…

Japanese people in general are crazy about paperwork….

From ‘Jungle Child’ by Sabine Kuegler

[Sabine lived in a remote jungle area of West Papua, Indonesia amongst a tribe untouched by modern civilization]

Life in the Western world seems like a tornado to me. An irresistible force that sucks me into its whirling vortex and spins me around at a hectic pace, till I get the feeling that time is moving more quickly than I can keep up with….One fights with family over money, loyalty, and love’s disappointments, and with neighbours over irrelevancies. And there is never enough time. Above all else, never enough time.

……life in the jungle is more challenging physically, but psychologically much easier. Life in the Western world, on the other hand, is physically easier, but much more complicated for the soul.e

One of the acknowledged signs that a people or culture is on the verge of extinction is that knowledge no longer gets transmitted from generation to generation…… no Fayu [tribe] remembered the white visitors they received in the 1940s. The memory of the Dutchmen had apparently been lost within a generation.

Their user of songs to express themselves may be one of the reasons that the Fayu do not seem to suffer from depression or other psychological disorders. Feelings are immediately externalized. There are even times set aside for the release of emotions: for example, the mourning song. When the song of mourning runs its course, the grieving truly is finished and life resumes as normal.

When a person experiences a traumatic event, he might lie for weeks in his hut not saying a word but singing for hours at a time. During this period, other clan members provide him with food. Then one day he simply gets up with the trauma behind him. Cleansed of pain, he smilingly resumes his everyday tasks.

Irian Jaya contains one quarter of the world’s known language (800) as well as numerous dialects. ….It has the only permanent glacier of any tropical island. Its ‘wintry’ heritage also includes snow-capped mountain peaks that tower 5,000 metres over glacial lakes. Irian Jaya boasts the largest single tract of rain forest in the world (excluding the Amazon). Its jungles are some of the most impenetrable anywhere.

From ‘mad dogs and an Englishwoman’ by Crystal Rogers

A number of youngsters…would approach me for guidance on how to conduct themselves abroad …..I …put together an informal presentation on general etiquette… Out of this last chapter I will quote:

Perhaps one of the most important things at any social function in the West is to show yourself to be a good and attentive listener.

I hope I may be forgiven for saying that up to this point I have not found this quality in most of the Indians whom I have had dealings with……

The cruelties of the West are different from the cruelties of the East.

For far too many years, I have seen the barbarous methods by which animals are slaughtered in the reeking abattoirs and alleys of Indian cities. The cruelty involved in the transport of domestic animals, the terrible distress and terror of monkeys exported for medical research. The hunger, misery and bewilderment of animals turned adrift because they no longer serve any useful purpose. The agony of sick and lame draft animals who are still made to work, beaten and over-loaded…. But do not imagine that the West is any less cruel. It is equally so. While putting up a show of being humane, behind closed doors, where none may see, the blackest and most unforgivable crimes are committed.

The West must bear the burden of guilt for the inexpressible horror of, amongst other things, killing animals for the sake of vanity. A whole fashion industry grew and flourished around the slaughter of small, defenceless animals like minks, rabbits and the red fox…..

….The testing of many cosmetic products is performed on unsuspecting animals …..The exploitation of animals for amusement is yet another nightmare …circus …What the spectator does not see….is how that training has been done.

How the whip has been cracked with lethal force on a lion’s back.

How a heavy stick has been smashed on a baby elephant’s rump.

How the seal plucked out of the vast, cold waters of the Pacific has been shoved into a pool the size of a child’s playpen.

How the chimpanzee has been smacked mercilessly when it has shown reluctance to conform to the rules of the house.

How the spirit of each animal has been crushed and squeezed out till all that is left are the hollowed bodies of furry puppets.

….. vivisection laboratory ……what I did see was a gathering of abject, miserable animals who had lost their freedom for ever and knew deep within their frightened little hearts that they were on death row….

…..Ella Wheeler Wilcox….

So many faiths, so many creeds,

So many paths that twist and wind,

When just the art of being kind

Is all this sad world really needs.

The climate of Bangalore was pleasant and I found the people friendly. But the plight of animals remained uniformly pathetic across the length and breadth of India.

Some friends had advised that I return to England. I couldn’t even think of it. India is a strange phenomenon. It settles over one as soundlessly as mountain mists, as invisible as evening dust. The joy of India is in a bite of a firm, green guava sprinkled with rock salt. The unintelligible cries of the sabziwala as he trundles his cart over potholed streets. The chaos of babblers and sparrows as they wake up entire colonies on sweaty mornings. The sight of shiny, brown-skinned boys jumping into a canal for an afternoon swim. The pungent smell of fires burning on street corners on cold evenings, where men gather round and gossip about the day’s happenings.

I could not and would not leave India. I have loved it with all my heart. I have been welcomed by the country and its people without hesitation. Yes, of course, there is much to criticize and condemn, but there is much more to appreciate and treasure.

From ‘Brazil’ by Michael Palin

Twice the size of India….home of the greatest rainforest in the world, as well as the greatest river system in the world, and the biggest waterfalls, by volume….extraordinary diversity and richness of its inhabitants…..descendants of those millions of slaves brought to Brazil from Africa, and of the Portugese landowners who enslaved them. Then there are those who have come to Brazil voluntarily, and in huge numbers, from the late nineteenth century to the present day. Italians, Poles, Lebanese, Germans, Japanese, Koreans and many more…..fostered one of Brazil’s most marked characteristics, tolerance…..

The Yanomami are one of two hundred or so indigenous tribes still left from the days when the first Europeans set foot in the country. There were estimated to be some five million Indians in Brazil when the Portugese began to settle here early in the sixteenth century. Today, after the depredations of slavery, disease and loss of land to loggers, farmers and miners, they number no more than 300,000

Manioc, or cassava, is one of the oldest cultivated foods known to man, but it requires careful preparation as it contains toxic elements. Rendering it safely edible is a laborious and time-consuming process involving peeling, grating, grinding and boiling.

….the Yanomami…. The bond between mothers and children seems particularly strong. Small babies spend most of their time in flesh-to-flesh contact with their mothers, and I have hardly heard any of the crying or scolding that we in our enlightened world might take for granted.

Brazil is the largest exporter of beef on the planet, and seventy-five percent of the deforestation has been to clear the ground for cattle.

…..twenty percent of all the world’s fresh water is contained within the Amazon Basin.

Stained and grimy from the heavy rainfall, they make Belem look less like Lisbon and more like Calcutta. Both are at the heart of big river deltas, and concrete and high humidity don’t mix well, creating the impression of cities going mouldy.

The 2,500 kilometre long (1,500 miles) Araguaia, a river which all Brazilians regards as especially magical and magically beautiful.

Because of the blessed combination of the Andes and the Amazon Basin, Brazil generates ninety-five percent of its water needs without any recourse to dams or irrigation. This, together with abundant land and a generally benign climate, gives it enviable potential for cultivation on a huge scale.

Brazilians tend not to be prohibitive and proscriptive; their inclination is to accommodate each other….part of the reason might be that, unlike most countries, they don’t seem to have a natural enemy to rally against. Since the end of the devastating Paraguayan War of the 1860s, Brazil has avoided any major conflicts……Their standing army is small. They have a few fighters, a destroyer or two.

Alto Paraaiso de Goias….where a seam of crystals, 200 kilometres (124 miles) long and 30 kilometres (18 miles) deep, creates a force field of energy which is said by those who live there to have powerful effects. UFOs have been sighted there, and on a NASA photo of the earth from space the area was reported as giving off an unmistakable glow.

…I ask Tatiana if its quite acceptable to be a witch in Brazil. She nods briskly. The Brazilians are very tolerant of witchcraft, In fact, they’re tolerant of almost everything. Especially in alto Paraiso……

Brazilian tourists are already out in force. And, being Brazilian, half of them are as close to naked as is permissible. In this land of the uninhibited, the dress code is as elastic as the tiny thongs which cover less than a leaf in the Garden of Eden. Provided nipples (female only) and genitals are concealed, the rest of the body can be joyfully unencumbered.

…..its very rare to see anyone in Brazil being angry.

Fizzy drinks are hugely popular in Brazil…..

Slavery continued in Brazil for much longer than most countries……

On Brazilian beaches the buttocks are the most admired parts of the female form and they’re referred to as melões – melons…….Beauty criteria are always interesting, and I’m fascinated to hear….that it is the strap marks from a bikini that drive Brazilian boys wild..

Brazilians are night people…..The forro dance steps, done well, are amazing to watch. The couples dance close and the movement seems entirely to come from below the waist, feet moving in a rapid pattern, while hips gyrate rhythmically in a loose and sinuous, constantly rolling movement. This is extrovert, sexy stuff and the best dancers are marvelously agile…

…..no event in Brazil is complete without a sound-system…..

….A Portugese expedition….was blown off course while trying to sail round Africa………they stepped ashore on 22 April 1500…..in southern Bahia State……..A later ……Portugese expedition found this to be an abundant source of wood they called pau-brasil, which produced a valuable red dye which glowed like hot coals (brasa in Latin). So the new-found land took its name from its chief product. Brazil

This potent mix of a relatively small number of Portugese, a much greater number of indigenous tribes and a huge number of slaves created modern Brazil…. The city of Salvador ….remains the third-biggest city in Brazil, with a population of over three million, eighty-two percent of whom are black. Salvador is the biggest African city outside Africa.

Do the Brazilians have a word for self-conscious? I cant even think when they’d ever have to use it.

When the slaves were brought over to work on the plantations they were deliberately discouraged from practicing their own religion, in case it became a rallying point for resistance to the landowners. So instead of one all-pervasive belief system, different elements of African tradition became interwoven, both with each other and then with the prevailing Catholicism of the Portugese. Candomble is a syncretic religion, faith-based and animist at the same time, a melding of Europe and Africa, of gods and saints.

In Brazil almost everyone believes in some kind of religion or some kind of superstition. Atheism is considered profoundly weird.

The Candomble ceremony is at times powerful and at times mystifying, but the complexity and richness of quite a commonplace event struck me as another instance of the passion and vitality with which black Brazilians approach their religion. The act of worship has to move and involve the participants in something special. What impresses me is that it also has to be fresh each time. In Candomble no one quite knows exactly what will happen when the drums begin.

……Brazilian means extrovert.

…..my guide Sophia’s observation that in Brazil everyone wants to believe in something.

Hans has lived in Brazil for fifty years, and what he likes about the Brazilians is that they’re flexible; they adapt and move on. What he also admires is their sense of a unifying national identity.

For 200 years after the first European strayed by chance onto the coast of Brazil, the wealth of the country was largely generated by the world demand for sugar. This was serviced from the huge slave-worked plantations in the North-East of the country. Then, in 1693, something happened to change all that. Reports came in from Sao Paolo of an adventurer who had returned from the mountains with traces of gold……… The gold rush that ensured revealted that the mountains were also rich in diamonds and other precious stones as well as apparently inexhaustible reserves of bauxite, manganese and iron ore. God had rewarded them beyond their wildest dreams. Churches were built and profusely decorated. ………Agriculturally blessed as well as minerally rich, it became the new commercial epicenter of Brazil. The capital moved from Salvador to Rio de Janeiro in 1763. The transfer of power from the North to the South of Brazil was complete. It has never been reversed.

….despite being the fifth-largest country in the world, Brazil has no peaks higher than 3,000 metres

She is from Peru and works in silver. Which is the one thing Brazil has always lacked.

In Brazil everyone has a nickname………

…..one of Brazil’s most delightful characteristics – a complete absence of embarrassment.

……..Portugese expedition…..In early 1502 …..found themselves at the mouth of what they thought was a great river……It was a January …they called their new discovery Rio de Janeiro – ‘January river’…….It turned out not to be a river at all but a deep, wide bay.

And yet sexual display is less overt than in Europe. There’s less nakedness in street adverts, and topless sunbathing is still frowned upon. I see very few couples enmeshed on the beach. There’s plenty of show, but not a lot of action….For all the apparent openness of Brazilian society, sex is still at the heart of one of its most secret, lucrative and – from what I can gather – universal phenomena: the love hotels, or simply, the motels. Dotted all over the city, and indeed the country, are establishments where for anything from thirty minutes to thirty hours rooms can be hired for sex. And not necessarily sex with prostitutes. They’re used by boyfriends and girlfriends seeking privacy….. husbands who fancy other people’s wives….most important thing is that they’re discreet. And discretion is not something I would have put high on my list of Brazilian qualities.

Brazilians are the biggest consumers of poetry in the world…..

The samba rhythm seems hardwired into every Brazilian

….the two great passions of Brazilian life – football and samba. Football started at the top and seeped very quickly down to all levels of society, whereas samba started at the bottom and became the ultimate in sophistication.

….an historian, Sergio Buarque de Holanda, as suggesting that the Brazilian contribution to civilization is ‘cordiality’. The negative side to all this, thinks Tim, is a national inability, or simply disinclination, to deal with anything bad…..the manic depressiveness at the heart of the Brazilian national character. ‘It pats itself on the back effusively with every victory, and torments itself with every defeat.’

….eighty percent of Brazil’s population lives within 400 kilometres ….of the coast

I admire and rather envy the Brazilians’ ability to eat, drink and be merry in public without feeling the need to be in any way aggressive or objectionable.

The Amazon Basin occupies forty-two percent of Brazil’s land area. Yet its combined population is less than that of New York City. The southern and south-eastern states of Brazil comprise only sixteen percent of the land area, but sixty percent of its population.

Brazilian women, he thinks, like to dress more daringly than their European counterparts. If they’ve got it, they like to flaunt it……Cleavage seems almost obligatory in Brazil.

Sao Paolo is a helicopter city. As traffic mires the megapolis in endless congestion, the rich and successful take to the skies. ….In 2009, Time magazine reported a traffic jam 200 miles long.

In Brazil, he says, ‘If you want to be respected, you have to be informal.’… Brazil’s relaxed, less uptight attitude to life…….

Brazil doesn’t have a history of social or political violence.

This southern ‘tail’ of Brazil contains some of the richest land in the country and some of its most prosperous cities. If the North-East can be called African Brazil, then the South is predominantly European Brazil.

Apart from some commuter services in Sao Paolo and Rio, Brazil is a passenger railway wilderness……….Brazil is a country where those who move either fly or drive, or take enormously long bus journeys.

Brazilians love a good hug.

Alex, holding the calf down with his knee, finds claw marks in its side which have been inflicted by a jaguar. ….Alex …sprays it with antiseptic. In the days before chemicals, he tells me, they would have used dried cow dung to protect the wound.

As we’ve travelled round I’ve been struck by how little curiosity the Brazilians seem to have about their own country. Many times in the journey I’ve wanted to share with them the beauties we’ve seen here. The power of the Amazon, the splendor of the rainforest…….And more often than not my Brazilian friends nod their heads politely and ask, ‘What’s it like?’