Manu: Noel vs. the Jungle, Round 2

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Okay so let's call it a draw.

Granted, I landed some great punches. I saw dozens of spiders, Caimans (alligators), Jungle life, and some amazing scenery. But the jungle hit back hard with rain, strong rivers, and, a painful uppercut, a bridge collapsing out from underneath my above Peru-average weight. Let me break the trip down.

Day 1: Bus ride into the Jungle

Arriving at the tour agency at 7:00 am I was happy to see everythign was well underway for our trip. In front of me was our private van that was to take us ten hours along a winding dirt road into the launching off point for Manu, Peru's most famous entrance into the Amazon basin. After piling into the van we hit the road by 7:20, excited but tired. Our guide, Rider (named after the TV show Easyrider), who is fluent in English, explained the significance of the various villages we passed through on the way north. One town was known throughout Peru for its bread, so of course we stocked up and carried on. That day we passed through a very interesting pre-Incan cemetary which was amazingly intact. But, eager to get to the jungle, we didn't stay long and again piled back into the pill-shaped van for a few hours more of winding up and down a narrow dirt road often on the edge of a very steep, very imposing cliff.

The latter part of the ride was absolutely amazing. Dropping from something like 3500 meters to 200 meters above sea level in a matter of hours, you - amazingly quickly - go from dust, rock, and various knee-high shrubs to, within ONE kilometer, cloud forest consisting of somewhat high trees which evolved in a desperate struggle for light. Only minutes later the trees become bigger and bigger and the vegetation thicker and thicker. The rapid heightening of the trees gave the distinct impression that the bus and road were shrinking like the magic schoolbus. The leaves and shrubs quickly become exaggerated in size, with leaves spanning a couple feet and vegetation squeezing into evey nook and cranny. If the jungle were a haircut it was definetely in a need for a trim.

That night we arrived at a small village at 300 meters and I immediately noticed the abundance of oxygen. After settling into a nice lodge and taking some beer we called it an early night and hit the hay. After seeing the awesomeness of the plant life this day we knew we were in for some tiring days to come.

Day 2: Boat ride into the heart of...lightness?

Waking early, Rider surprised Joe with a birthday cake (he turned 24) which set the tone for a great day. Leaving at 7 am we hopped aboard a rubber raft, after 2 minutes of instruction (in broken english, to boot), for some whitewater rafting. Although the river was a little disappointing (only two short spurts of rapids) we enjoyed a relaxing swim in the wide, brown, jungle surrounded river. Usually I am turned off by brown rivers but after hearing about the variety of things swimming below that could kill me I was glad for its opaqueness. The funniest part of the rafting was hearing our rafting guide say "Danger, please." while trying to say "be careful, this is dangerous". After finishing the rafting maybe half an hour later we took a short bus ride to our boat which was to take us deep into the Manu jungle.

The boat was a little too small for our purposes but we all got over it quickly when looking around at the amazing jungle surroundings. Sounds of dozens of different birds tickled the ears while a thick fog lay 10 meters above the water, making the picturesque surroundings look like an unfinished picture. What continually amazes the senses is just how thick the jungle is: every inch is packed with life, ranging from hundreds of species of ants (many poisonous) to hundreds of species of spiders (many, many poisonous). Our boat driver was something strait from a well written novel. Boris (yes, Boris... a guy from the jungle of Peru named Boris... Don't ask cus I dunno) was a small, quiet man (man/boy, I should say, because he always sported a boyish smirk) who had a genius for navigating the flooded river. With remarkable talent he weaved us around rocks and choppy water to our first stop, a totally natural hotsprings just off the river. The owner of the springs had done a great job building pipes to carry the water over a small ledge to give you a beautiful spot to have a hot, thick shower. Afterwards we retreated to the jungle equivalent of a hottub and had lunch while soaking our worries of poisonous snakes away. After a couple hours we were back on the boat and our lives back in the capable hands of Mr. Yeltsin.

That night we arrived at the deepest point of the jungle, a beautiful handmade jungle lodge consisting of seperate huts connected by wood platforms (to keep the feet away from snakes, of course) and surrounded by fruit and medicinal plants. We enjoyed a healthy dinner, prepared by the cook Lourdes with which I flirted constantly, before setting out on our nighttime jungle adventure. Before setting out Rider gathered us all in the eating hut, a 5 meter square open walled hut with bamboo structure and a leaf roof, for a talk about the seriousness of the jungle. With the sun settling our giggling was not enough to drown out the hum of thousands of insects, birds, and noises I will just have the classify as mysterious (Frogs? Monkeys? Man eating snakes? All of the above?). But, as Rider began to speak our banter was completely hushed by the look on his face. It said only one thing, and it said it loud and clear: I am NOT fucking around. The words, carefully chosen, only added to the scene. Sparing the details, the words "poisonous", "dangerous", "fast moving", and "hours from a doctor" kept us silent and motionless in the darkenning night. Between warnings our silence allowed us to better hear the background noise (noise we now understood as coming from serious business) and the message was clear. We are in the jungle, folks. This is not disneyland.

Setting out as the sun was kissing the horizon, flashlights in hand and wearing the longest clothing we had, we nervously but anxiously began a trek deep into the jungle. It is hard to explain just what it is like to be walking through one of the most biodiverse regions on earth. Thick. Exaggerated plantlife: vines, giant leaves, meter thick trees crowded by unyielding plantlife. Monkeys. Spiders as big as my face, including tarantulas. Did I say thick? Birds. Frogs. This is the jungle, baby, and it is wilder than you could imagine.

After a couple hours we were all beat, dirty, but exhilirated. We must have seen three hundred spiders and heard dozens of unnamed, gurgling, hooting, walloping jungle creatures. It was time for bed.

Day 3: A Jungle Wander

This was the day we were all waiting for. After a good, quick breakfast we headed out into the jungle ready for a day of walking about. The Jungle continued to amaze with surreal trees, vines, animals and hidden-away rivers. I felt like I was walking around the movie set for a predator movie but with a lot more bugs. The high/lowlight of the day was me nervously walking across two logs acting as a bridge and, two thirds of the way across, having one log snap in two and have me crash two meters down into a muddy river. "SNNNAAAAP!!!" Silence. One steamboat. Two steamboat. Joe: "YES!!!!" Rider "You alright?!?!?!" Silence.... Three steamboat..... Noel "HAHAHAHAHA". Sound of ice breaking. Roaring, nervous laughter. I was fine.

The day was great, though, with monkeys, spiders galore, and as many wild, surreal plants as you could ever imagine, including one special one called a strangle vine. After being planted on a tree branch from monkey poo, the seed grows a vine which eventually reaches the base of the tree, where the vine slowly grows around and around the tree, effectively strangling it (lack of light and water) and, after about 200 years, killing the tree and reaping the benefits of its nutrients. Joe and Claire, one of the 18 turning 15 year old British girls (I kid, they were great), climbed through the bat infested center of a strangled tree, reaching about 20 meters before bat shit and lack of space turned them back.

That night we went Caiman (alligator) hunting in a utopian-like river surrounded by exotic bird life. Using nothing but a stick to push our handmade log raft along the calm, narrow river, we quickly got our game faces on and did some old fashioned hunting. The plan was to, in the pitch black, spot the Caimans by shining a light on their eyes to stun them (and to spot them: Caiman eyes glow red in the light) and, with me at the stick (haha) slowly and silently get our raft close enough for rider to jump on its back and stab it through the head. We got close a couple times but had no luck, but it was fun none the less. Perhaps the funniest part of the night was having Boris, walking barefoot dressed in shorts and a dirty Adidas shirt, laugh at me, dressed in Gore-Tex everything, wobbling back and forth with far from perfect balance trying to cross the logs he yawned across. Without saying a word he made it clear that, even with (and perhaps despite) the hundreds of dollars worth of gear I was sporting, his flattened feet and jungle sharpened mind were lightyears ahead. That and that Gringos falling off logs into water is quite funny...

Day 4: Boat ride back

Waking early again we were unhappily greeted by pissing rain, although our spirits were high from a great adventure. After seven hours of rain in the boat we were tired, wet, and quite cold. But, still, high spirits all around. The night was spent drinking champaign and laughing until exhaustion set in (aided by stomachs stuffed by delicious fish) and we fell asleep happily in our tents on the second floor of a hand-made jungle home.

Day 5: Bus ride back to Cuzco

We enjoyed our long van ride back to Cuzco with an odd contrast of girly english muisic and a powerful, newly appreciated, jungle exterior. Really we had a riot, enjoying everyone's company and making the best of being crammed into a van for eight hours. We stopped on the way home for some Cuy (Guinea Pig) which Joe and Angie loved and I thought to be very salty and, well, Guinea pig...

The next night we all met up at Rider's house for dinner, which was both a lot of fun and delicious. We said our sad goodbyes and promises to stay in touch, and parted ways.

All in all a fantastic experience with fantastic people. I now know that there are some places on earth more surreal than fantasy.

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