Amazon-scmamazon. That’s what the guidebooks and websites say. If you want the real wildlife action in Brazil – head to the Pantanal! And that is just what Suzie and I did in October ’02. The Pantanal is a vast unpopulated wetland in the Mato Grosso state of central Brazil, somewhat akin to Florida’s everglades during the wet season, and resembling an African savannah during the dry season.

Known for its abundant fauna, the Pantanal is truly a bird watcher’s paradise.  Just between you and me, I much prefer to see the good Lord’s larger and more  elusive  beasts  armed with  bountiful razoresque teeth, unpredictable temperaments, and disquieting dietary habits – but the variety of the Pantanal's birds fluttering about in all shapes, colors, and sizes is also extremely riveting.  I guess.

Our HQ for this voyage was the abundantly comfortable Pousada do Rio Mutum lodge - a mere three bone-jarring hours on un-maintained dirt roads from dusty Cuiaba, Mato Grosso, Brazil. Check the lodge out at:                               http://www.pousadamutum.com.br/

Days at Rio Mutum are spent hiking, fishing, motor boating, horseback riding, relaxing, reading, safari-ing and observing nature.

The food at the lodge is plentiful and quite delicious – and despite its remote locale, the number and variety of activities make boredom nearly impossible.  One highlight of the visit to the lodge was our alliance with Helder – our English-speaking guide.  Helder’s love of the region  was infections, and his tireless efforts to custom tailor our Pantanal experience really made the difference in our journey.   Add in the fact that on our visit (thanks to a strong dollar and weak “real”) beers were only $0.50 a pop – what’s not to like?

Back to the wild life.  Did I mention the birds?  E-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e.  But that’s not all folks!  Fortunately, during one morning’s hike, just when we thought that the highlight of the day was seeing another blue-toed pickle-beaked squeaker fly past our range rover, one of the most ferocious and feared of the jungle beasts flashed out from behind a soggy clump of bushy looking crap.  There it was.  With cold steely eyes like that of, well, cold steel, and flared nostrils this heartless killing machine lurked a mere 50-100 feet away, eyeing us with a most unspeakable bloodlust.  The seconds seemed like very long seconds, or at least longer than normal seconds, as we stood frozen in our tracks.   The rapid-fire neurotransmitters in its diabolical brain sent ripples through the muscles of its chiseled body.  The beast crouched.  Suzie checked her lip liner.  It was up to me – were we going to dash for the security of the nearby jeep and risk being torn to shreds by its stiletto claws as he lunged on our retreat, or should I call on the courage of Hercules and face down this mortal jungle terror?   

With the false sense of security afforded by the camera lens, I chose the latter.  With a click and a buzz (and a winding sound, then another unusual clicking like something might be stuck and the whiiirrr of the auto-focus screwing up again and a few annoying beeps and the clop of the lens cap hitting the mud), I stood my ground and managed to get a couple of quick photos as this terrible killer joined an equally heinous co-conspirator and disappeared into the swampy jungle.

Double Trouble

The instant the dire standoff diffused, the three of us exchanged relieved glances and it was as if we could read minds – we’d like some sandwiches and beer.  So it was back to the Pousada do Rio Mutum, for a hearty lunch, a dip in the balmy swimming pool and a pleasant nap in the ample hammocks under the mango trees.  Thankfully, it didn’t take long before the horror of our encounter with the harrowing Capybara was a distant memory.

Afternoons at Rio Mutum were spend horseback riding through the shallow marshes observing, well, birds. And cows – lots of cows. Alternatively, we would take a small Boston whaler out on the Mutum river – which was literally chocked full of Jacaras (big ol’ South American caimans) and nasty piranha...of the yellow variety – the biggest of all the 30 or so species of the unruly little buggars.

Admittedly, there is a perverse thrill in catching the little guys, knowing that it was either them or you.  Sort of.  Whatever. Anyway - have a look.

So, if you are thinking of heading to Brazil – think about a visit to the Pantanal.  It’s a nice counterbalance to the rigors of Rio.  Suzie and I were surprisingly pleased with the experience.

Psssst!  Yo - wanna see some birds?