We arrived at São Luiz do Puruná mid-afternoon and decided to camp at the foot of an abandoned tourist statue of Cristo Redentor in somewhat worse condition than the one in Rio, pitching our tents around its foot like so many penitients at His feet. This metaphor proved to be most unsuitable as, unsurprisingly given the levelness and remoteness of the site, the ease of road access, and the impressive outlook across the plain to the city of Curitiba, it is a favourite locale for local types to hold all-night raves using what was for me quite the loudest car sound systems I have ever heard. Good tunes though. As we had been warned by the police about such 'wild camping', there being (not unexpectedly, to my mind) some baddies about who wouldn't think twice about stealing everything - except (perhaps) our underwear from us - we all hid in our tents expecting the worst but thankfully nothing untoward happened. This experience gave Roger (our Glorious leader) such concern that he determined only to use either private land or official campsites in future for the remainder of our time in Brazil.
We spent two days climbing at Sector 1, an excellent steep sandstone venue with good bolting and some hard routes. One of these stands out - steep but juggy moves to a bulge, then a really bad sloper for the right hand, feet high, dropped left knee and a long reach to a poor and therefore fierce side-pull crimp, pop for a flat and shallow 'chicken head' hold, re-arrange the feet and another pop for the jug at the top. Fewer attempts (4) to success than our even best climber Swiss Rolf, so really pleased. About F6c+ I'd say; Naomi the strong Aussie climber reckoned F7a - but only because she couldn't do it!
Day 3 - Hot sunny day and an abortive search for sector 3. I think motivation levels were low in general as it didn't take much to persuade everybody it wasn't worth carrying on when we were (very slightly) lost.
Day 4 - Rain. Heavy rain. Walked in the heay rain until couldn't be arsed any more, went to the motorway service station to dry out and, together with Welsh Chris and Swiss Didier ate my own weight in Brazilian snacks, something everybody should try at least once in their life. Especially the Cuxina de Frango. Weather improved but by this time I was too heavy to anything but eat yet more food. Which I did. And it was only the reticence of Chris and Didier that stopped me going to the all-you-can-eat buffet. Bastards. Pumpkin and chicken soup for dinner, delivered up by Martin and Marese.