Driving north from Brasilia, you pass
through endless fields of grain until you see some remarkable hills.
Climbing into these as the afternoon wanes, you get a sense of the
vastness of the South American continent. Except for the road, the
landscape is practically empty, and yet you’re still only a hop and a
skip from the coast. At the same time, the hand of man was very obvious,
in the form of smoke from wildfires. After dark we could see lines of
flame licking the distant hills.
Tucked into the hills is Alto Paraiso, a combination hippy enclave and
tourist trap. The forest here is thicker and a bit wetter than in
Pirinopolis – mosquito nets advised, even in the dry season.
In Alto Paraiso you can find a stupa, murals of Ganesh, Om signs, and people tattooed with chakras and mandalas. The main strip was a little crowded and noisy for my taste. Our first dinner was at a creperie where the crepes tasted of olive oil, and the bar across the street was hosting a terrible live cover of “wonder wall”.
We found Sao Jorge a lot more congenial – a smaller town, closer to natural attractions. Had a delicious buffet lunch that was recommended. Got lost trying to find the restaurant suggested for dinner, stopped at a quiet joint at the edge of town and had a delicious meal – filet mignon!
fork-tailed flycatcher 
blue-and-gold macaw