With a strong SE wind it was a little easier to leave Pesqueira after all. Had the weather been good, we would only have packed our parachute gear and taken off up the hill on motorcycles. Our stay and flying here was surprisingly inexpensive in comparison with other flying locations. Getting over the hill to the village of Santa Terzinha, approximately 200km west of Salvador was not at all easy. But God's paths are unpredictable, and so by various means of transport we end up, after all, in front of the house of an old resident that has been flying gliders here for twenty years. When someone in Brazil flies, it is almost always on a glider. Here, in this country that is several times the size of the Czech Republic, there is only one parachute flier. That means we have more than tripled the club membership here by our arrival. And as usual, the old glider pilot has a place to accommodate us gringos, and a good cook, so we're well set up.



    The conditions and the landscape here are quite different from Ceara. The wind is weaker and more reasonable, but unfortunately so are the thermals and the updrafts. It is clearly greener here, with the air of a milder latitude, but the cactus plants that are large as fruit trees are ever present.



    After flying around the area on the day of our arrival, (our o sense of scale has changed, because I believe that the all of the winter flying back home would equal one day here), we start the next day after 13:00 and the weather is excellent. At the 40th kilometer I can no longer stand the snail pace and leave Silver, who lands 5 km outside of the town of Itaberaba, which lies on the 90th kilometer of the route. So that we can find each other again and for our return, I head back a ways and land in the town. This city is actually the first point of civilization, and the start of the road back - otherwise the entire time you fly over a barren landscape. All we passed along the way were the occasional farm connected by a dirt road, which we couldn't tell where it come from or went. Simply put, I turned the risers with more precision than usual.



    Landing in Itaberaba was, however, amazing. Getting used to being mobbed upon landing by several tens of happy black people who don't care about the cords all around was one thing. But when you land on a playing field on the edge of town and a few minutes later crowds of yelling children come swarming in, you begin to feel like a rock star. Many bands would envy me this crowd. The problem was the crowd began pushing and shoving, and children began falling over each other, and I was supposed to pack up my chute in the middle of this. When I let down my hair and took off my shirt, the sound of girls whistling echoed across the field and I must have started blushing.

    I leave the field in a pick-up truck onto which I was lifted. "This is the guy that was flying over the city!", yells one of the men on the hood and I wave to the city. And now I'm at the city hall on my way to visit the mayor, where I have to write my message in the chronicle. Then it's off to the photographer for a commemorative photo, to the foreign language school, so that they can find out how I like their city and the ceremonials are mainly over. The city allegedly came to a stop because of me, but I don't understand it at all, because I just can't imagine something like that. In the Czech highlands I just land, bundle up my chute and head for a beer in the closest village, without anyone bothering about me, let alone panicking a town with a population of 60,000.




    The next day again, - "every day good weather", but in the flight direction there are only drifts and breakups. But even so it's alright for a few hours of flying around the area. Only Silver almost ended up in the tangled cords of the rotor after landing, but it ended well. To show the locals that we're tough, he dropped 150m in various figures before starting off, and then decided he'd better land instead.




    Waking up into nice weather becomes the standard. A SE wind greets us at the start, and so we choose a different route, this time along the road over beautiful cliff formations. On the 50th km near the town of Milagres, we are stopped by cloudiness, so a great scenic trip ends by 14:00.




    I land under the cloudy sky of the upper plain above the city, outside of civilization. Children from a house by which I've touched down were afraid of me at first in contrast to the city children, and on my way down into town, I meet only several dogs similar to hyenas. A local resident popped out of a hut with a rifle and leather bag full of some game he'd caught. Along with Silver, who comes across as a pop star, we get back at night, using various means of transport. Everything turns out well and we're hanging in the hammock on the veranda letting the slow Brazilian time slip by.