From Lago Agrio to Cuyabeno

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After killing time Saturday night in phone booths and internet cafés we finally boarded our 10 pm bus bound for Lago Agrio. The bus itself was cleaner than most Ecuadorian buses, but the ride was long. Distracted by the landscape shrouded in darkness beyond my window, I slept poorly, and thus -- at 5:45 this morning -- it was through sleep-deprived eyes that I first viewed the flat, dusty, industrial town that is Lago Agrio. Along with Lisa, a British woman also signed up for the Dracaena tour, we made our way from the bus stop to the hotel D'Mario, where we were to meet our jungle guide at 10:30 am. I'm still not sure how we managed to pass the time without losing our minds, but somehow -- between breakfast, wandering around the local market, chatting with Lisa and hitting up an internet café -- we did. (While talking with Lisa we learned that that she was originally signed up with a different tour agency, but due to a river robbery that had occured on Friday her tour was cancelled. Apparently the robbery was peaceful -- your standard hand-over-the-cameras-and-money gig -- but most of the jungle agencies cancelled their Monday tours anyway. Brenna and I were a bit alarmed to hear this news, and were irked that Dracaena failed to inform us of the robbery. We probably would not have cancelled our trip, but it still would have been nice to know ahead of time.)

Shortly after 10 am Diego, our jungle guide, arrived. To be honest, I didn't think he was our guide when he first approached us. He seemed so young and his English so awkward that I thought he was a kid trying to sell us something. Nope. He introduced himself, checked our names off his list, learned that Brenna and Ami are vegetarians (which Dracaena should have told him) and informed us that at 10:30 we would leave for the airport to pick up two more members of our group (the other two would be arriving Tuesday afternoon) and from there we would head to the Cuyabeno Reserve. By this point I was so warm and sticky from the humidity and tired of hanging around Lago Agrio that even a three hour van ride sounded like a pleasant change of pace. Although the pavement ran out about fifteen minutes after we left the airport (and thus the road was bumpy and dusty), the ride itself wasn't too horrible. Periodically Diego would share tidbits of information about the towns we were passing -- who lived there, how they made their livelihood, etc. -- which livened the journey up a bit.

Once at the entrance of the Cuyabeno Reserve we abandoned our lovely van for a large motorized canoe. There were aplethera of people wandering around, most of whom stepped in to help us load our gear into the canoe. Then it was on with the lifejackets, and we were off.

Traveling down the river was amazing. It's nearing the end of the rainy season here in the jungle, so the water level is still high enough that the banks of the river stretch into the surrounding vegetation. Peering through the trees, it was impossible to tell where the water stopped and the land began. There were moments when the water was so still that reflection and reality merged into one and I could hardly distinguish between water and sky. The vegetation along the river was so diverse -- plants grew on plants growing on other plants, vines draped overhead, thick roots held up massive trees and palms of varying sizes were scattered among the thick foliage. I decided that it didn't matter if I went the entire week without seeing a single bird or monkey -- the plant life was enough for me.

Shortly after that, however, Diego called our attention to the trees on the right -- monkeys! A troop of squirrel monkeys went crashing from tree to tree as our canoe driver brought us a little closer to the edge of the river. Spotting them was tricky; they moved quickly and vanished easily into the shadows. They were more graceless than I expected, though; whenever they leapt from one branch to another they sounded like small elephants. I was completely entranced.

After about two hours on the river we arrived at the Dracaena dock. We hauled our stuff down a wooden plankway (between 1-2 feet off the ground), around the corner and to the lodges: large, wall-less buildings built about four feet off the ground and with high, thatched roofs. Walking along the plankway from the river the kitchen/dining lodge was on the left, and a little further on our snoozing lodge was on the right. Our snoozing lodge was equipped with four hammocks and an assortment of rectangular "tents" made of mosquito netting, barely tall enough to stand in and wide enough for a single or double mattress. Under the guidance of Juan Carlos, a do-everything man at the Dracaena lodge, we staked out our claims. By this point it was nearly nightfall, so all that remained of the day's adventures was dinner. According to Diego, dinner would be served every night at 8 pm, breakfast at 8 am and lunch around 1 or 2 pm. He didn't disclose any tips on the next day's exploits, nor would he say what noises we could expect to hear in the night and early morning (although he did mention the possiblity of howler monkeys in the morning and fireflies during the night). After some post-dinner chatting, we all headed for bed. It had been a long day of traveling for all of us and we were exhausted. And as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out like a light until the morning jungle noises awoke me.

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My deepest apologies for the delayed blog update. We're currently on the move right now -- heading south down the coast -- and thus internet isn't always reliable. That, plus my slackerness, means that it's going to awhile until I'm completely caught up -- sorry! I also, as you can see, don't have any pictures posted, either, but if you head to Ami's webpage he has all his and Brenna's jungle pictures posted. Hope all is well with y'all! Keep those lovely emails comin'! 😊

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