This was originally published on my old blog BackpackBook (Livro de Mochila), a project that blended literature and travel, sometimes just traveling in my lucid dreams. It ran as âCidade perdida na AmazĂ´nia invisĂvelâ on July 11, 2007.
I’ll confess that my first reaction to Dieter Schiller’s Cidade Perdida na AmazĂ´nia was disappointment, and that it was a false disappointment, generated by my own expectation of detailed information about the mystery of Colonel Fawcett’s disappearance, the English explorer fascinated by the possibility of finding Atlantis in the Amazon.
Part of that false disappointment came from the risk of buying books online and from the impulsiveness of not looking for more information first, since in a virtual purchase it’s hard to do the pre-purchase page flipping. In the end I was grateful for it.
Past a certain point I began to see its value, especially for anyone who spent history and geography class “traveling” somewhere else. As well as giving an overview of the mystery around Colonel Fawcett, Dieter manages to highlight important information about our invisible Amazon.
(Parentheses)
That invisibility describes the current, and eternal, state of disrespect for nature very well. It’s visible only to the people who see figures where the leaves are.
It was in that forest that the Colonel disappeared, or turned invisible, on a real expedition motivated by statuettes, myths and legends. His story became curious and mystical, and the most well traveled version of the disappearance has him joining the inhabitants of the lost city. Several rescue missions tried to disprove it without success.
One of the later myths is that Fawcett was the inspiration for Steven Spielberg to create Indiana Jones. Could Fawcett get a few more minutes of fame with the archaeologist’s adventures continuing in 2008?
Although the book doesn’t say much about Colonel Fawcett, a curiosity woken up by a street corner conversation with the triathlete and traveler (or traveling triathlete?) Cristian Mendes, I was satisfied with the result. It woke up more real and more current curiosities.
The post also carried a short biography of Schiller, a history graduate who wrote the book driven by his interest in human mysteries, and who reads widely and independently across philosophy, sociology, psychology and the more esoteric shelves.
The landscape of the trip
These new curiosities met the moment we’re living in, where ecological coverage is very strong, generating a discussion about technological evolution and emotional involution. Does technological “evolution” represent our cultural and intellectual evolution? Which would matter more?
So what could we do to travel while respecting the planet that allows us these trips? The people at ViajeAqui put together five suggestions for sustainable travel, and you’ll also find Claudia Carmello’s blog, Viajante Consciente, over there. Her ideas are well worth getting to know.
Traveling with the book in your backpack
Dieter Schiller would like to travel with you and Cidade Perdida na AmazĂ´nia through:
- The mysterious city of Machu Picchu, a little before the sun goes down.
- A conscious trip, enjoying the sounds of nature deep in the Amazon rainforest.
- A square in CuiabĂĄ, accompanied by the warmth of the climate and of the people.
If we want responsibility, let’s do our part. I found an article by Guiliana Bergamo with ten commandments for the responsible tourist. Small things that can bring big results for us and for tomorrow’s travelers.
What would the trip be without the landscape?