The FT Expedition
Field notes, photographs & musings from our exclusive 14-day expedition across the Serra do Espinhaço with author & journalist Paul Richardson of the Financial Times.
The Road Home. Day 13
I.
Sign of an epic Time
It’s been nearly a month since Elisa & I got back from our expedition with Paul, and not a day goes by that we don’t think about him or our time on the trail together.
My experience tells me this will probably be the case for a long time to come.
Unforgettable. Day 11
Racing sunset #1. Day 6
Racing Sunset #2. Day 8
The Fellowship. Day 12
Aquele Abraço. Day 13
Tractor/Bean Field/sky. Day 6
II.
Numeros
Over the course of 14 days, Paul & our crew traveled 1,066 kilometers, including 509 km of little-known trails, backroads, and rivers. We trekked for 9 days of the expedition, covering 224 km and gaining & losing 13,711 meters of elevation in the process. We traversed 8 conservation units in 2 biomes (the Cerrado & the Atlantic Rainforest); visited 16 communities & 14 waterfalls; and climbed 2 peaks (we were forced to abandon a 3rd due to weather). We forded dozens of creeks, streams, and rivers; crossed paths with 4 deadly snakes (2 pit vipers, 1 coral, and the largest rattler that any of us had ever seen); and got stuck in the mud twice while overlanding.
We saw one other person on the trail during the expedition: a local horseman, on Day 4.
Man on horse. Day 4
Rio Preto Crossing #1. Day 10
Stuck (again). Day 8
Cachoeira da Sempre Viva. Day 5
“Gift of go Face”. Day 12
III. 1
Fellowship: The Owls
Paul was the protagonist of our Story; our guest in the Espinhaço and our brother on the trail. The journey was his, but dozens of individuals, from cooks & hosts, to guides, horsemen, boatmen, drivers, porters, and support personnel participated in our quest to bring him into the Story of Brazil.
Four of us (the “Owls”) accompanied him full-time. There isn’t a crew on earth I’d rather bushwhack, off-road, or party on the trail with. #hoothoot
The Naturalist. Day 4
The Driver. Day 6
The Producer. Day 6
The Narrator. Day 8
The PRotagonist. Day 7
Dorico & Zekinho. Day 12
III. 2
Fellowship: The MESTRES
Far from being props or even professional tour guides, the men & women who aided us during our crossing are real people, as well as our friends, mentors, and heroes. Masters of the backcountry and gatekeepers of the region’s forgotten ways of life, they were our expedition’s keys into the history & culture around us.
We Owls can navigate the surface of the Espinhaço all we want, but we can only go so deep into the Story of Brazil without the Mestres.
João. Day 12
Zekinho. Day 12
Noêmia. Day 3
Dorico. Day 7
Santo. Day 4
Barbosa. Day 7
Maria. Day 3
Gomercindo. Day 7
Zé. Day 4
Halfway to Macacos. Day 12
IV.
Trust, alignment & delivery
Paul had come to write a story for the FT, but he was here by his own accord. In fact, another well-known travel writer who had requested to join us—and who had secured commissions from prominent publications in Europe & the UK—backed out less than two weeks prior to our Expedition, citing apprehensions about the ruggedness of our itinerary and the remoteness of the region as the reasons for her last-minute cancellation. Unlike that journalist, who is specialized specifically in adventure travel, Paul had never taken part in an expedition of this duration or scale.
Standing outside of the airport, just moments after he’d arrived, I asked him why he’d come. “Honestly,” he began before pausing thoughtfully, as if to make sure the feeling he was about to express was real. “I think I’m hoping for something cathartic.” He could have picked any of a million words; sincere or not, none would have been more perfect.
We ask a lot from the travelers who come with us. Without time, resources, and a certain level of fitness, our expeditions could never leave the page. Without trust, our explorations would be confined to a single comfort zone. Without open-mindedness, we’d never truly be able to immerse in the world around us.
When all are given, we can do anything, because we’re in this Story together.
Paul, Seeker. Day 3
“Let’s get in this.” Day 8
V.
All Hail April
Prior to this Expedition, Elisa & I had never attempted a multi-week crossing in April before—the thought of late spring storms had kept us home for 3 years straight. While we did catch a few brief showers on the trail, the rewards were absolutely spectacular: glowing green vegetation, flowers in full bloom, gushing waterfalls, starry skies, and deliciously cool high savanna evenings.
We came away so inspired that our 2025 season is now 30 days longer.
Evening colors. Day 6
Capão de mata. Day 8
Paepalanthus. Day 2
Santa Rita. Day 11
Daybreak. Day 7
Feijão + cast iron. Day 5
VI.
MEal of a Lifetime
I took nearly 2,700 photos during our Expedition, but somehow managed to miss arguably the most memorable moment of the trip: Paul, renown luxury travel writer (& noted author of multiple gastronomic titles), sitting in the front seat of our 1989 Toyota Bandeirante, nervously scarfing down a lukewarm, homemade to-go plate of rice & beans with a camp spoon in between swigs of a plastic jug of fresh mango juice, as we bounced violently in unison along the rocky, vista-blessed trails of Sempre Vivas National Park, laughing at the absurd beauty (and beautiful absurdity) of it all.
Relatedly, if that sounds like the meal of a lifetime for all of the wrong reasons, you’re normal, and our trips aren’t for you. If it sounds perfect, well, you’re perfect, and you should contact us soon to apply (really—our trips are limited).
Feijão #2. Day 6
Queijo Caseiro + blue bench. Day 4
Pão de queijo com requeijão de barra. Day 9
“Carne de Lata”. Day 13
Doces! Day 9
Frango caipira. Day 5
New Luxury / true luxury. Day 10
VII.
What is luxurY, Anyway?
It was both a recurring topic (and fruitful inside joke) during our expedition and a discourse destined to take place within the travel industry in the near future as terms like “adventure of a lifetime” and “once-in-a-lifetime journey” (among many others) continue to lose their meaning.
Elisa & I have spent a lot of time over the years ruminating on luxury: its societal meaning, its existential meaning, and its meaning within the context of our own lives. Paul’s thoughts on the matter may vary, of course, but after 14 days alongside of us deep within the Story of Brazil, I think he would at least agree that our philosophy on the subject shines through in every single thing we do.
Namely: when it comes to travel, nothing—nothing—is more compelling, more precious, or enriching than being able to experience a Place the way it is even when we’re not around to witness it.
private pool. Day 5
Private Sunset. Day 8
Private falls. Day 8
Private beach. Day 5
All To ourselves. Day 5
Alone but not lonely. Day 5
Amongst the Palms / but Who would pay. Day 7
Cotton Sunrise. Day 7
Hidden Valley. Day 3
Our own little universe. Day 7
Safe & Sound. DAy 4
Dinner for 3. Day 12
Waterfall Day. Day 9
Old Friends #1. Day 7
VIII.
Rediscoverys, ReUnions, reconstructions, Realizations
One of the most profoundly gratifying products of our Expeditions—and one that we’ve only recently begun to identify & understand—is how they connect people in the Places where we work in meaningful & sustainable ways.
A century ago, the communities of the Espinhaço were connected economically (through mining, the flower trade, and agriculture), logistically (via a vast network of trails between Diamantina, its districts, and the surrounding agricultural communities), and culturally. In recent decades, however, the end of the diamond-mining boom, the proliferation of roads & automobiles, and the systemic creation of conservation units has caused those communities to drift increasingly far apart—to the point that today Elisa & I often refer to the Espinhaço Meridional (the geomorphological name for the mountainous area within an approximately 50-km radius of Diamantina) as not a single region, but 7 microregions, each with its own distinct economic & cultural traits.
Our guides on Days 6 - 8, Gomercindo & Barbosa, have been friends for 40 years, having been born & raised on adjacent ranches along the Inhacicão River, north of Diamantina. Today, their homes sit just 20 km apart. Even the shortest distances can be challenging in the Espinhaço, though, and prior to our final research trip in preparation for this Expedition, Barbosa hadn’t visited Gomercindo for 30 years. Meanwhile, Gomercindo hadn’t visited his family’s old ranch in the flowery fields atop Sempre Vivas National Park (where we slept on Day 7) since his son Esdrah (a porter for us on Days 6-8) was born, despite being located just 12 km away from his front door. One of our guides on Days 11-12, Dorico, hadn’t been able to his friends Pê & Nica (our hosts on Days 10-11) in Santa Rita in 4 years prior to our Expedition. The list of these small—but meaningful—reunions go on & on…
There’s a balance to be stuck between the work we do with travelers and the people & Places who we visit. Elisa & my bandwidth, while significant, is limited. We want to build a better Espinhaço—especially if it involves reconnecting the region with itself—and it needs to be done like this, naturally and in harmony with our trips. Because it’s not that we’d be ashamed if our trips weren’t every bit as good for the communities & individuals who work alongside us as they are for the travelers who make the journey with us; we simply wouldn’t do them at all.
All of us, including Paul, Elisa, and myself, were there because of Gift of Go. Being thanked by an emotional Gomercindo on Day 8 was one of the most rewarding moments of my professional life.
Father & Son #1. Day 8
Husband & Wife. Day 4
Old Friends. Day 12
Sisters. Day 6
Father & Son #2. Day 8
Legs (aka No one would pay for this). Day 8
IX.
Day 8 was… everything.
Day 8 was always going to be the most challenging day of the expedition. Even on paper, the logistics were daunting (no one ever accused us of being unambitious), and the reality on the ground was sure to present even more challenges.
Júlio and I had scouted the most difficult portion of the route—and cleared some of the thickest stretches of bush—just a few weeks prior to our expedition, but we’d agreed afterwards that it would still be too difficult to attempt with Paul. At some point, though, I changed my mind. The logistics were intense, but they made sense, and the alternatives were nowhere near as glorious.
With 9 km of bushwhacking, 6 km of hard-fought trekking, 25 km of precarious off-roading, and a 20-km golden hour descent on horseback, it was the kind of day where everything would need to go right in order for us to make it to our destination that evening—and for the first half of the day, it did. Then reality hit and our support vehicle got lost, then stuck in the mud, then stuck (even deeper) in the mud again, all in the remote high campos of Sempre Vivas.
Xaxau took it particularly hard, blaming himself for the events, but there’s literally no one on earth we’d have rather had behind the wheel. In the end, it was his incredible heroics under pressure that allowed us to continue our epic journey westward, culminating in a thrilling, once-in-a-lifetime ride down the western escarpment of the Espinhaço beneath the stars.
Day 8 was always destined to be the climax of our Expedition. It ended up being one of the most epic days of our lives.
Inspecting the road. Day 8
Quick Thinking. Day 8
A Legend is born. Day 8
Victory! Day 4
X.
What remains
There were hours of arduous bushwhacking, long days of hard riding, tense stretches of off-roading, and exhilarating, unplanned night treks. All of that action & motion is fleeting, though. Even now, just a month removed from Day 14, the things we’re left with are the relationships, lessons, and stories; the happy memories of camaraderie & triumph; and the profound satisfaction that comes with having done exactly what we set out to do.
welcoming party. Day 5
“Holiday!” Day 8
Waiting out the rain. Day 3
“gregos”. Day 10
Kindred spirits. Day 5
Home-cooked. Day 2
LOL! DAy 13
What a crew! Day 12
XI.
Indescribable.
Paul had come to write an article for the FT, and I had agreed to provide the photography (I also had a hunch that I would end up writing this long-form personal journal entry that you’re reading now). At some point during the Expedition, though, we both dutifully acknowledged the limits of our respective mediums in conveying, with any real semblance, the experience we were having. If the trip had been about a destination, we agreed, the assignment would be much easier—both for us to portray, and for others to digest. Conveying such an eventful, layered, and emotional experience through words & photos, though, is a daunting task...
I’d like to tell you how the warm wind feels against your wet skin at 2 pm on Day 8 as you ascend into the flowery high campos where our rescue vehicle awaits, having finally emerged from the dark & daunting forests of Taquaral; the feelings of relief, triumph, safety, exhaustion, pride, excitement, apprehension, and duty converging & coursing through you in waves, set to an endless tickle of high grass, an itch around the waistline here & there, the faint pain of hunger (or is it thirst?), and the constant, comforting tug of 15 kilograms against your back. A new, dull ache at the palm of your foot; the burn of the boot rubbing the patch of skin just below your ankle; the stench of sweat (old & new) emanating from your baseball cap or shoulder straps or somewhere else you can’t quite pinpoint; the high savannah sun peering through the space around your lenses, warming your head & neck & arms. The rhythmic thump of your well-tread soles striking the rich red soil underfoot at approximately 4.5 kph, causing white quartzite pebbles to shoot up here & there and leading you to stumble briefly forward towards the next firm step. Now, a high-pitched chirp of a small white songbird; a murmured shout from one guide to another; the thought of ice-cold beer in tiny drinking glasses awaiting us at Gilma’s house tonight (it’s going to be an epic evening…). The feeling of your tongue clicking nervously against the back of your teeth as you recall the anaconda-sized rattlesnake you nearly stepped on just 10 minutes before. All backdropped by 1,000 unnamed shades of green, the lazy, poetic half-circles of a large brown hawk overhead, and the weary smiles of these friendly faces around you, who were but strangers days before but who you now engage with as siblings, and whose emotions, ambitions, and decisions you are depending on even at this very moment…
This was never supposed to be a vacation, you remind yourself, smiling. It’s a journey; a privilege. The road is long, but it is glorious, and my god it’s all so beautiful.
New Body. Day 12
Table Wine + Good Times. Day 11
Abençoada. Day 2
The Best is yet to come. Day 8
Happy Place. Day 5
A Galera. Day 4
Moment in time. Day 12