english translation after the picsAprès Rio la merveilleuse, direction les montagnes de mantiqueira à environ 2000m d´altitude le village de Marumba entouré de magnifiques cascades et habité par une poignée de montagnards et de hippys rescapés des 70´s.
Sur la place du village: la modeste église, le bar "jamaica"(ça ne s´invente pas...)et une petite boutique où on trouve à peu pres tout ce qu´on veut du moment qu´on est pas trop difficile; les enfants jouent au Taco, variante Brésilienne du cricket aux règles tout aussi incompréhensibles, un vieux hippy joue de la flute, les chiens font la sieste à l'ombre, il y a comme une ambiance de Western Spaghetti...
On habite dans une magnifique cabane en bois à deux pas d'une cascade, toboggan naturel cadre d'un concours annuel où les participants surfent la cascade en essayant de rester debout jusqu'en bas et avec le plus de style possible...
Les nuits sont fraiches mais on fait un feu dans la cheminée.
La végétation est vraiment magnifique et on croise Toucans et Colibris mais surtout le Tico-Tico (prononcez tchikou-tchikou) et le chupin (tchoupine) protagonistes d'une des plus cruelles histoire de la nature, sournoisement, le chupin substitue ses oeufs à ceux du tico tico, et laissera ce dernier s'occupera des petits toute sa vie en croyant qu'il s'agit de ses propres enfants...a noter que le chupin fait deux fois la taille du tico tico et est constamment affamé...
La spécialité locale est la truite, ce qui me permettra d'exercer mon aptitude naturelle au barbecue. Sinon il y a aussi des Onca espèce de Leopards locaux mais on ne les a malheureusement pas vu.
La rencontre la plus signifiante est sans doute Devarty, un Hippy, la 50aine passée, champion de VTT de descente, il tient une pizzeria qu'il n'ouvre que 3 jours par semaine pour avoir plus de temps pour se baigner et s'occuper de son jardin, et il construit des maisons incroyables dans la montagne (c'est lui qui a construit la notre!!!).
Lors de notre première rencontre, intrigué, il m'invite à le suivre dans la pizzeria pour me faire gouter aux plantes de son jardin, puis enchanté par les gigabits de reggae que je lui ai laissé sur son disque dur, il nous invite le soir même à une "pizza fiesta"nous assurant que ses pizzas sont les meilleures du monde...Il nous installe donc en cuisine pour le voir préparer en dansant sur ma selection reggae des pizzas hallucinantes au brie et à la mangue, à la goyave et crème glacée...
Il prévient les clients qui s'installent: "la pizza sera differente ce soir, car quand vous êtes venus la semaine dernière il y' avait du Jazz, et maintenant le dimanche, c'est reggae!" puis on prend place a table et je dois dire qu'après ce festin c'est bien possible qu'il ait dit vrai et qu'on trouve les meilleures pizzas du monde quelques part dans les montagnes Brésiliennes...
Dés le lendemain, on prend le petit déjeuner dans sa maison, incroyable et magnifique au sommet de la montagne et on ne le quittera pratiquement plus pendant tout le reste du sejour même si les autres hippys du coin, apiculteurs, fromagers,musiciens, fabriquants de bonbons au lait, illustrateurs ou artisans valaient eux aussi le détour....
Après une semaine dans ce paradis, retour au rush de la ville, Sao Paulo et ses 20 000 000 d'habitants, mais ça c'est une autre histoire.....
désolé pour la mauvaise qualité des images mais un autre appareil a rendu l'ame et j'ai du faire avec les moyens du bord...
After Rio the marvellous, the Mantiqueira mountains at approximately 2000m high the village of Maromba surrounded by beautiful waterfalls and inhabited by a handfull of mountain peoples and hippys survivors of the 70'S.
On the village square, the humble church next to the "Jamaica" bar (couldn't make this up...) and a little shop where you can find approximately everything you want as long as you don't ask too much; the children are playing Taco, a brazilian variant of the cricket with as much obscure rules as in the british game, an old hippy is playing his flute, the dogs are taking a nap in the shadow, there is something like a western spaghetti mood...
We are living in a wonderfull wooden chalet next to a waterfall, natural toboggan where an annual contest takes part; the participants must surf the waterfall trying to stand till the end with the best style as possible...
The nights are cool but we're making fire in the chimney.
The vegetation is really splendid and we can see Toucans and Hummingbirds but especially Tico-Tico (pronounce tchikoo-tchikoo) and the chupin (tchoupeen) protagonists of one of the cruelest story of nature: sneakily, the chupin substitutes his eggs for those of the tico tico, and will leave him taking care of the babys all his life believing they are his own children (the chupin is twice as big as the tico tico and is always hungry...)
The local speciality is the trout, which allowed me to use my natural ability for BBQ. There is also the Onças sort of local Leopards but unfortunately we didn't see any of them...
The more meaningfull meeting was undoubtedly Devarty, Hippy, between 50 and 60, champion of downhill moutain bike, he holds a pizzeria that he only opens 3 days a week to keep more time to bathe and take care of its garden, and he builds incredible houses in the mountain (he's the one who built our!!!). At the time of our first meeting, intrigued, he invinted me to follow him in the pizzeria to give me a taste of the plants from his garden, then enchanted by the gigabits of reggae that I left on his hard drive, he invited us to stay for the evening with a "pizza fiesta" ensuring us that his pizza are the best of the world... he settled us confortably in the kitchen to see him preparing while dancing on my reggae selection, some of the incredible pizzas of his menu with Brie and mango, guava and dairy ice cream... he warned the customers who got in: "the pizza will be different this evening, because when you came last week there was Jazz , and now the Sunday, there is reggae!" then we took seat at the table and after this feast, I must say that it's really possible that he was saying the truth and that we can find the best pizzas of the world somewhere in the Brazilian mountains (sorry Brunella, Napoli is defeated ;D )...
The next morning, we had breakfast in his incredible and splendid house on the top of the mountain and we practically didn't leave him during the rest of the stay even if the others hippys, bee-keepers, cheesemongers, musicians, candy makers, illustrators or craftsmen were also worthy to be known....
After one week spent in this paradise, back to the rush of the city, Sao Paulo and its 20 000 000 inhabitant, but that's another story...
sorry for the bad quality of the pics but another camera died on us so i had to do with what was left (thanks Jam...)
On the village square, the humble church next to the "Jamaica" bar (couldn't make this up...) and a little shop where you can find approximately everything you want as long as you don't ask too much; the children are playing Taco, a brazilian variant of the cricket with as much obscure rules as in the british game, an old hippy is playing his flute, the dogs are taking a nap in the shadow, there is something like a western spaghetti mood...
We are living in a wonderfull wooden chalet next to a waterfall, natural toboggan where an annual contest takes part; the participants must surf the waterfall trying to stand till the end with the best style as possible...
The nights are cool but we're making fire in the chimney.
The vegetation is really splendid and we can see Toucans and Hummingbirds but especially Tico-Tico (pronounce tchikoo-tchikoo) and the chupin (tchoupeen) protagonists of one of the cruelest story of nature: sneakily, the chupin substitutes his eggs for those of the tico tico, and will leave him taking care of the babys all his life believing they are his own children (the chupin is twice as big as the tico tico and is always hungry...)
The local speciality is the trout, which allowed me to use my natural ability for BBQ. There is also the Onças sort of local Leopards but unfortunately we didn't see any of them...
The more meaningfull meeting was undoubtedly Devarty, Hippy, between 50 and 60, champion of downhill moutain bike, he holds a pizzeria that he only opens 3 days a week to keep more time to bathe and take care of its garden, and he builds incredible houses in the mountain (he's the one who built our!!!). At the time of our first meeting, intrigued, he invinted me to follow him in the pizzeria to give me a taste of the plants from his garden, then enchanted by the gigabits of reggae that I left on his hard drive, he invited us to stay for the evening with a "pizza fiesta" ensuring us that his pizza are the best of the world... he settled us confortably in the kitchen to see him preparing while dancing on my reggae selection, some of the incredible pizzas of his menu with Brie and mango, guava and dairy ice cream... he warned the customers who got in: "the pizza will be different this evening, because when you came last week there was Jazz , and now the Sunday, there is reggae!" then we took seat at the table and after this feast, I must say that it's really possible that he was saying the truth and that we can find the best pizzas of the world somewhere in the Brazilian mountains (sorry Brunella, Napoli is defeated ;D )...
The next morning, we had breakfast in his incredible and splendid house on the top of the mountain and we practically didn't leave him during the rest of the stay even if the others hippys, bee-keepers, cheesemongers, musicians, candy makers, illustrators or craftsmen were also worthy to be known....
After one week spent in this paradise, back to the rush of the city, Sao Paulo and its 20 000 000 inhabitant, but that's another story...
sorry for the bad quality of the pics but another camera died on us so i had to do with what was left (thanks Jam...)
