Sao Luis and trying to leave Brazil, Grenada and the journey home

We arrived at the airport in Salvador da Bahia bright and early, and as always, the first order of business is to pay the fees. We located the operations office, and requested our invoices. Once again, we watched as the young fellow working the computer plunged into the deep mysteries of the program that was to produce the information. Again, he was on the phone for the better part of an hour as he tried to put the correct information in the blanks. He was in and out of the program, generally looked puzzled, and after about an hour and a half, he produced an invoice almost three times as much as we'd paid at any other airport in Brazil. We of course questioned this, without result for a long time, until finally someone was called in to translate, and explained that we'd parked on a very expensive area of the field. Never mind that it was where we were directed by ATC, with a marshall in place to wave us in. When asked where on the field one might have found less expensive accomodation, he pointed first on the airport diagram I gave him to the car parks, then the runways. It was obvious that his qualifications didn't include any actual knowledge of the airport layout. Finally a passing airline employee was able to tell us where the less expensive tarmac was located, but the issue was not negotiable, so we reluctantly paid up. About double what one would pay for overnight hangarage at a big city airport. Once again, the flight to Sao Luis, named after Louis XIII of France, by the French naval officer who founded the place in 1612, and is located on an island. On landing and being directed first to a parking spot quite near the terminal building I questioned the ground controller about less expensive alternatives. His command of English didn't include any understanding of my querie, so I shut down and talked to an employee of the fuel company who told me parking where I'd been sent wasn't allowed, and he volunteered to lead me to what I figured was the cheap seats. Fired up and was directed to another site, closer to the terminal on the other side, which I again questioned. A passing airliner was able to translate my concern to the controller, and I was told that the price was the same. Our accompanying aircraft, on landing was directed to the more modest accomodations.  We arrived too late to see much of the place other than our drive to our hotel, which was a resort type place situated across from the beach.

Yet another hotel window

And lest there be any confusion

We did manage to squeeze in a bit of pool time and a walk on the beach, and in the morning, it was off to the airport to clear outgoing customs and do the invoice dance again.

We were not disappointed on the invoicing front, as it was again a two hour exercise. The invoice for the first aircraft was generated in about an hour, but the second proved impossible, and finally the operator, apparently getting tired of me breathing down his neck and tapping my watch, wrote it up manually. The parking price was about the same as preivious airports other than Salvador.

Back to clear customs and immigration, and we were now informed that this airport did not offer the service due to terminal renovations taking place. She gave us an alternative, Belem, which was on our desired route to Cayenne in French Guiana. Before departing, we were informed by the tour company back in Florida that clearance at Belem was a nightmare that typically took 5 hours, and that Macapa was a better choice if it was open on weekends. The local immigration lady was asked to confirm, and after a phone call she said no problem.

Off to Macapa on the Amazon delta, about 2 miles north of the equator. A few thunderstorms and rain showers, and as luck would have it we arrived in the middle of a pretty good shower, did our instrument approach (a full VOR procedure), minimums 640 feet, stayed in the clag until right over the runway, which we picked up too late to land, so execute the missed approach and back into it for another try. The showers had moved by this time so we got in, followed shortly by the other aircraft. First significant weather in over a month.

Next surprise - we could do part of the exit process, but not the immigration release handled by the Federal Police, as they didn't work weekends at that airport. We begged and pleaded, but nothing could be done. Our only alternative was again Belem, which we'd flown over on the way, about 200 miles back. Belem, however, required 4 hours notice of international departure. By this time we were far too late in the day to make our destination, and with the thunderstorms having increased on our route back to Belem, we chose to try again in the morning. We found a very helpful English speaking person in the flight planning office, and he phoned his contacts at Belem so as to expedite our departure the next day.

We booked into a local "Hotel de Charme" the Poussad Ekinox, owned by a French expat. Interesting place, somewhat rustic in a local fashion, but very clean. We went for a stroll a kilometer or so to the bank of the Amazon. At this point, where it meets the sea, it is very wide, with the distance to the mid channel island about 10km. Lots of bulk carriers in ballast offshore. There was a nice seaside walk, with lots of food stands and families enjoying the Saturday.

Kite boarders on the Amazon at Macapa

Macapa is a city of about 400,000, and services a large agricultural and mining area. We were told by different people that it had a slower pace and less crime than Belem, on the other side of the delta. There is a fort on the bank, built in the 17th century to protect the access to the river.

We had dinner at a very good seafood restaurant, and invited our helpful friend from the airport and his wife to be our guests. Besides his day job, he teaches English at a public school and he and his wire operate a franchise language school in a nearby town. After dinner they drove us to a favourite ice crean parlour that specialized in concoctions using the native fruits. They were generous with their samples, and I think we probably consumed at least a full scoop before purchasing our choices.Altogether an enjoyable evening.

In the morning, it was off to the airport for the now daily dance. We had been assured that the invoicing would be quick, and other than a problem with the actual printing it was pretty good, taking only about 30 minutes. The flight to Belem was uneventful, and things went reasonably well there, other than the refueler charging aobut $10/US gallon. A little over two hours and we were on our way to Rochabeau, the airport at Cayenne, for a fuel stop. A sea change in the process after what we'd been through in Brazil, with fees (only $20), customs, and flight planning completed, refueled, and on our way in a little over an hour.

Next leg to Grenada, ever more comprehensable controllers on the way, and the weather clear with tropical puffy cumulous over the land masses.

We were cleared to 4000 feet, but still in the broken bases five miles back, so cleared for the VOR approach but picked up the airport in time for a visual.

Landing at Maurice Bishop Airport

The airport is named after its builder, Maurice Bishop, who staged an armed coup in 1979, then was himself deposed and subsequently murdered in 1983. These events triggered the controversial US invasion, one of the pretexts being that the airport was designed to support Cuban-Soviet military activity in the region.

 Nice day, about 27 C. with a good breeze so not too sweaty. We fueled while awaiting the other aircraft, then went in together for customs and immigration, reasonably quick and island friendly, then into taxis and off to our accomodation, La Luna beach resort.

This place was on a sandy beach in a small, shallow bay, mostly individual or semi-detached bungalows up the hillside by the beach. Our stand-alone bungalow had a nice deck with a plunge pool overlooking the water, open-air bathroom, altogether wonderful.

View from the throne

We were situated a bit of a drive from ST. George, and due to the confluence of ideal weather, geography, and amenities, it was popularly decided that we would limit our short experience on the island to the beach, water, and local eateries.

Brenda's natural element

Our travelling companions in the other aircraft left the next morning after breakfast for Costa Rica, on their way home to Los Angeles.

Farewell to our fellow travellers of the last five weeks

We spent the day on the beach, swimming and snorkelling. The bay is quite shallow, mostly under 15 feet deep, with wave action down to the sand and reef bottom. We saw mostly small fish, sea urchins, lots of conch shells.

We had an excellent meal at the adjacent restaurant on our last night, then in the morning, back to the airport and the next leg of our journey back to reality.

Farewell to Grenada

We had a planned fuel stop at Puerto Plata in the Dominican Republic, about 700 nm. away.

Approaching Puerto Plata

Big fuel truck for a little airplane

Typical cumulous buildup over the islands

Reasonable quick and friendly customs clearance and refueling at Puerto Plata, then off to West Palm Beach, Florida.

Our route of flight took us over the Bahamas chain of islands, and as we got closer to Nassau and on to Miami Center's air traffic control frequency it became apparent big things were happening with the weather. Miami was directly under a cold-frontal storm system, and aircraft were being held all over the place. There were four flights from Europe holding over Nassau, and the airspace south of Miami was full of aircraft waiting for things to clear, and the controller was busy with aircraft that having reached their limit of holding fuel were having to divert to alternate airports. We had to penetrate the same line of weather, but farther north it wasn't built up quite so high, and had moved offshore after disippating much of its energy. We stayed high until past the worst of it, then with some creative vectoring on the part of the controllers were able to descend without much excitement for landing at West Palm. Customs clearance and a quick bag check, some fuel and off for a 20 mile hop to Boca Raton airport where we'd made arrangements to get the airconditioner adjusted and have some other minor maintenance performed the next day.

Inland waterway near Palm Beach

One more beach hotel with no snow in sight...

Second last hotel room window

and after freshening the sunburns, shortly after noon the next day we picked up the aircraft and took off on our first leg of the 2200 nm. trip home. We had chosen Clarksville, Tennessee for our overnight stop. It was about 1/3 of the way home, and my preference on cross-country trips is to choose stops at places we'd be unlikely to visit for any other reason. Clarksville turned out to be a good choice. The service at the airport was exceptional, with the loan of a car at no cost, even equipped with a GPS to take us to our hotel where we were given a preferential airport rate. The city has a population of about 125,000, and services an agricultural area and a large military base, Ft. Campbell, home of the 101st. Airborne Regiment. Our hotel overlooked the Cumberland River, a major waterway feeding into the Mississippi. There is a nice walkway along the river, leading up to the junction with the Red River at its northern end and with a statue of Wilma Rudolph at the southern entry. A sprinter, she was the winner of 3 gold medals at the 1960 Olympics in Rome and later became a teacher and civil rights leader.

On the recommendation of a couple we met walking along the river, we headed up to the historic town centre and the Black Horse brew pub for dinner.  The food was good and the atmosphere friendly, with lots of young military families.

Covering all the bases

The last hotel window



In the morning, off to Edmonton, with a fuel stop at Aberdeen, South Dakota, and the end of our journey.

After six weeks, the co-pilot is about tuckered out

Surprisingly, the ground was snow-covered from about the middle of North Dakota, right across Saskatchewan to Edmonton.

Passing Sherwood Park on approach into Edmonton City Centre

.

A little bit disorienting after 40 days of travel, through so much geography, physical and cultural, to be back in the old familiar. We are extremely fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience this, and the trip has given us memories for a lifetime. We'd love to visit some of the places we stopped on this trip, with more time to enjoy them, but for now we'll enjoy the afterglow, and hope that you've enjoyed sharing a bit of our fun.

Brenda and Andy