Although we were not heading for deep jungle like we had wanted, the morning tour was interesting enough. The only wildlife we saw was parrots, other birds, butterflys, bats, ants, termites and a tarantula. There was also one other amusing sighting. Hitalo and Carlos pointed up and said, "Look, a monkey!". We all looked up.... and saw a squirrel, which they continued to claim was a monkey, even after a X16 telephoto shot of it revealed it as a squirrel, although they then modified their story, saying it was in the same family as a monkey. Maybe it was, but then again maybe it was just more Carlos bull, to get a sighting of a monkey "ticked off".
Other aspects of the morning tour were interesting. We started to get some kind of appreciation for how to survive in the jungle. The first rule is: carry a machete. It is pretty essential, and without it you would get into serious trouble as some basic techniques would be closed to you, principal of which is opening paths into the jungle. I, of course, could not wait to have a go at this. The golden rule is to hack at a 45 degree angle away from your body, on both sides, as if cutting an "A" into the jungle. You also need to maintain a strong arm and follow through so it does not deflect and injure you. It is great fun and remarkably quick. A machete can hack straight through really thick branches and vines. An important tip when opening paths is, if you come across another path and you intend to retrace your steps along the path you are making, you need to close the other path with a big leaf or something so that you dont inadvertently take it when you retrace your steps.
A machete is also important for drinking water as it can be used to slice through lianas which are plentiful in the jungle. You can then just up end the liana and drink the water that flows from it, which we did several times. You definitely would not die of thirst in the jungle.
A third, and much less obvious use for a machete is to use the back of it to bang on a certain type of tree which has good reverberation properties, making a loud banging sound which is detectable from a long way away. You can use this if you are lost to send messages.
A final, and very important use of the machete is to obtain food. On one of the later days Andrea was weak with hunger because we had gone out before breakfast and she asked Hitalo if there was any berries or fruit to eat. Berries and fruit can be found but were not plentiful. Instead Hitalo began hacking down a massive palm tree (and of course I got in on that action :) This was not a small tree, but eventually it was felled. He then went to the top end and hacked out a chunk of trunk about a metre long, which he then peeled down until it consisted of a whitish baton about two inches in diameter. This was then divided into several chunks along its length and passed out to the hungry travellers - palm heart salad! It was really tasty and easy to eat, although we did question the ethics of felling such a large tree for a little snack, although Hitalo assured us that it had "gone on his account" and that four more would be planted in a field near his village to make up for it. So not only were we snacking, we were saving the world - yay!
Another aspect of jungle bushcraft that we learned about was medicinal trees and plants, of which there was quite a few, all seemingly for stomach ache and rheumatism. The only one I remember properly is the "chuchuasi" tree. You get some bark and add a load of cane sugar spirit. It cures rheumatism, and gets you fucking pissed (I know - on a previous tour I drank a fair bit, while chewing prodigious quantities of coca leaves - an overrated experience, believe me). Other trees of interest included rubber trees, the resin of this really does have the quality of a pencil eraser, a cocoa tree, and the very rare and protected cedar tree. We also saw one hell of a large tree, the biggest I had ever seen. Before I leave the world of flora and fungi I need to mention a certain type of large mushroom which you can turn upside down and write messages on like paper. I wrote "James and Andrea woz ere", which I felt was vital information which needed imparting to future journeyers.
So what does it feel like to be in the jungle? The word that describes it best is probably "uncomfortable". There are two main reasons for this. Firstly you are assailed by permanent heat and humidity which makes you drip with sweat. You never get a chance to get dry so you spend your entire time feeling dirty, sticky and sweaty. The second major source of irritation are the mosquitoes and sandflys which are ever present. They snack on you all day and can bite through shirts and trousers. Despite finishing an entire bottle of "Jungle Formula" (50% DEET), which is grim in itself, we were flayed alive with bites which, at times, itch intolerably. It has also become apparent that both Andrea and I have contracted a tropical skin disease called Leishmaniasis via the bites from sandflys. It is not too serious at the moment but we definitely need to get that sorted ASAP. The third reason for discomfort is the lethargic torpor you find yourself in. Personally the heat and humidity really sapped my energy and everything felt like a real effort. Maybe that is why some of the locals are content to live in shacks surrounded by rubbish (trust me, living in the jungle close to nature has nothing necessarily to do with being at one with).
Another form of irritation for me was sleeping in a hammock. Normally hammocks are nice and pleasant to lie and sleep in. We slept in one for a couple of days on the boat ride from Yurimaguas to Iquitos and it was great. Not these hammocks though. Once these things had been stretched out between to trees (probably too widely) it felt like being trapped in a tube. Totally uncomfortable. Each hammock comes with a little tent which keeps the flies out. This is good, except that the zip often got stuck which meant that sometimes it was open long enough to let a few mozzies and sandflys in. I lay there all night (12 hours on the equator) in that damned tube, sweating and stinking, constantly shifting in the pointless search for comfort, tormented by biting insects, sleeping but fitfully (if I was lucky).
But at least the food was good [stifles a cynical laugh]. Breakfast consisted, daily, of two cold super greasy fried eggs and a piece of nasty bread. This was followed by a nutritious lunch of very overcooked spaghetti mixed with tomato sauce. Dinner consisted of a cold version of the leftover spaghetti, or a packet of super noodles if Carlos was feeling in a generous mood. Also, once, Carlos tried to give us river water to drink, making out that it was pure, clean water, which it obviously wasn´t – when you held the two side by side one was literally green and the other was clear, yet he still tried to claim it was good, clean drinking water!
To keep costs down Carlos also sanctioned fishing, which seemed a strange practice in a nature reserve. The treatment of the fish was, however, unpalatable to us namby pamby westerners. Catching them was fairly easy – just dangle a bit of bait on a nylon line – first fish usually caught within seconds. After the first couple it became much harder though. Once caught they were chucked on the floor and left to asphyxiate (which is probably the same with most fish the world over). Sometimes they would atttempt to wriggle to freedom, at which point they were kicked up the bank unceremoniously, like they were a slithery football. Andrea decided to end their suffering by bashing them over the head with a stick, which worked well, until a bigger fish was caught. Hitalo strung it up, still on its hook and left it to asphyxiate. You would not believe how long that can take. We thought we would end its misery.
Boy did we screw up (and we are ashamed of this bit).
It is hard to bash a fish when its dangling on a string so I held it (still wriggling) against a tree why Andrea tried to bash it. The stick was not that robust so a single coup de grâce became impossible. I had a go, again without success. I smacked it really hard, but missed the head by an inch and it started bleeding, and it wriggled even more. I smacked it again – same thing. We were just torturing the poor thing more. Finally it seemed to stop moving and Hitalo assured us it was dead, but we could still see a bit of movement – it was still alive. We unhooked it and put it on the floor ready to give it an almighty blow that would definitely finish it. I am embarassed to say that I jumped and screamed like a little girl when the fish unexpectedly vaulted a few inches off the ground. I really wasn´t expecting that and it really startled me. In the end Andrea dealt the final decisive blow. We really bungled it. For me, the moral of the story is not “don´t fish” (although the jury is always out for me on matters such as this), rather it is “know how to fish humanely”. The fish should be dispatched immediately and as painlessly as possible. Another unpalatable aspect was that later on we found the fish in the dirt covered in leaves with several wasps feasting on it. That was dinner (it was fried first...). Andrea refused to eat it, although I tucked in. I´ve got to say, even after all of that it was absolutely delicious. I don´t like the idea of creatures dying for me, but have not taken the leap to vegetarianism because it still seems like eating other creatures is the natural order that has existed since the dawn of life. I am loath to do without the pleasures of meat and fish, but am wholeheartedly against the grim exploitation of horrible farming practices and pointless cruelty to animals.
We still hadn´t seen many animals, so Hitalo took us out at night in a little dugout canoe, in pairs, to try and see some caiman which are a type of alligator. Andrea and I went out at about 10pm when it was very dark. The dugout was very basic and I had to constantly bail water out as it slowly leaked, and there was only about an inch above the water line. It was very quiet and still as we slowly paddled along.The stars were amazing. We were literally both expecting two large eyes to pop up out of the water right next to us, attached to a massive aligator, and we were tense with trepidation. Actually I was more tense about how Andrea would react when it appeared than I was about it appearing (which didn´t overly concern me). Andrea was very frightened by the experience. We also thought there could have been snakes, and other creatures. We really didn´t know what to expect. I loved it! In the end we didn´t see any caiman or snakes, having to settle for a large bullfrog. The experience of boating up the Amazon in the dead of night was amazing though. Andrea also calmed down and really enjoyed it too.
The memory of this trip is now receding into long term memory so all the rankling with Carlos and all the paranoia and suspicion, and huddled talks with Gerard and Laetitia (which turned into out-and-out unashamed hoots of laughter by the end of the trip) are beginning to fade and don´t seem worth reporting in detail now. In the end, after much hell, Gerard and Laetitia did succeed in photographing a single monkey, a sloth and a caiman (we only saw the sloth), and they did succeed in getting $100 back (we backed them up for solidarity and liberté, égalité, fraternité). Moooochos animales we did not see, but we made some damn good friends (we will see them again in September in France), had some big laughs at the absurdity of the situation and did get a very good idea of life in the jungle (and we´ve got the scars to prove it). We will never forget it.
