Amazin' Amazon Day 1

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Nick: At the time of writing, I am sat cross-legged on the front veranda of our lodge in the sub-tropical Amazon, within Manu National Park, Peru. It is a little while before lunch on the third day of our trip into the Amazon and we have already seen far too many incredible things to list here (although I intend to try). We've been keeping a few notes over the last few days so that we don't lose track of all the wonderful things, and I suspect that this cornucopia of natural wonders will translate into another rather verbose blog entry! So for those who are keen on simply 'getting the headlines', suffice to say we are having a superb time and our trip into the Amazon has been utterly fascinating, if somewhat challenging in terms of the climate. For anyone interested in the nitty gritty - read on!

First and foremost, however, I am pleased to report that both of us have shaken off the hideous tummy bug that we picked up (presumably) in La Paz and which knocked us both for six during our brief stay in Cusco. After spending almost all of the previous Tuesday in bed, venturing out only to sort out a few arrangements that could not be deferred, we managed to get a bit of food down in the evening, before getting back to bed at around eight p.m. The upside to all of this time asleep was that the 5 a.m start the following day was that much easier.

We were picked up at our hostel by the two gents that were to be our guides in the Amazon over the coming days: Jose and Darwin. Both were instantly likeable, speaking excellent English and bubbling with enthusiasm and good humour. Soon enough, we were aboard our bus alongside eight fellow tourists (although I prefer 'adventurers') and leaving Cusco behind us - for now, at least. After a little while we pulled over in a small, neighbouring town which was apparently famous for the bread that they produced, and our guides were collecting a seemingly endless supply of the stuff. We had a quick taste, to keep us going until breakfast-proper a bit later on; it certainly was good. Over the next hour or so, the bus continued to ascend into the surrounding mountains, the ever-present Andes, and the scenery was simply superb. After the barren, dusty brownness of Bolivia, it was something of a relief to be surround by thick green foliage once again. We did notice that there was an abundance of pine and eucalyptus, not quite what we were expecting on a trip to the Amazon; apparently these introduced species were the legacy of former colonial times.

Although we were technically within the Amazon river basin at this point, the rainforest to which we were headed was a few hours drive further away, within the confines of Manu National Park.

Our first 'proper' stop of the trip was at an archaeological site, which included a number of strange stone-built caverns with a small opening at the front. These were historic tombs used for the deceased higher-ups off semi-nomadic Indian society in the past. From what I gather they would keep the mummified remains of their deceased in these tombs until they upped sticks and moved on to their next destination, at which time they would bring said mummies with them. Interesting stuff. Shortly thereafter, we were delivered to a nearby town - Paucartambo - for a spot of brekkie (standard issue eggs and bread) and a wander around. It was a pretty enough little town, and peaceful too. Sticking with the bread-theme, we popped into a local bakery and saw an enormous communal oven (made of clay, glass and - yummy - human and horse hair) being used to churn out masses of bread rolls; reportedly, people make their own dough and bring it here to have it cooked. It doubles up as a barbecue too, which would explain the tray of skinned guinea pigs sitting to one side waiting to be cooked! Our guide told us that this seemingly anonymous town was the site of an annual religious festival which attracted tens of thousands from across South America to come and celebrate the 'Virgin Carmen', quite a big deal apparently. Indeed, a visit to the local museum showed photographs and video clips of the festival and it certainly looked quite full-on. Assorted groups of dancers all dress up in (quite sinister-looking) fancy dress to parody anyone and everyone relevant to local life, including the Indians, Spanish conquistadors, Chilean invaders, even the local bakers themselves. It certainly looked like quite a spectacle.

With a bit of good ol' culture under our belts we were once again back on the bus and pushing on towards our destination. The road continued to climb, and our driver deserves considerable credit for his handling skills; narrow in places and with a sheer drop to one side, it sometimes looked as if the bus was actually hanging over the cliff-side, which kept the journey interesting. En-route, we reached our journeys highest point, 4000 or so metres above sea-level; a little higher even than La Paz, so not for the faint-hearted, although by this stage we had thankfully adjusted properly to the extreme altitude and so experienced no ill effects. After this stage, it was all downhill, in the literal sense, and in due course we entered the National Park. Whilst we were not in the sub-tropical or tropical rainforest as yet, gone were the familiar trees we'd seen on our journey, replaced by other, unfamiliar species. This ecosystem was the Cloud Forest, and was where we would be staying for our first night. Still relatively high up in the mountains, it is easy enough to see where the name comes from, surrounded as we were by thick banks of fog, although the weather itself was relatively warm and a little humid. At last, we were in the thick of things, this was what we had come to see!

Throughout this long morning, both Sarah and I had been taking turns to suffer something of a relapse, with a general feeling of nausea coming and going. Whilst we clearly over the worst of our tummy bug, it was by far from a done deal. Fortunately these instances were intermittent, and didn't prevent us from enjoying the day. Lunch was spent by the roadside, overlooking a sharp drop to a river, and consisted of a packed sandwich, fruit and cereal bar; the fruit was the highlight, and included a 'grenadilla', which was a bit like a passion fruit, and some dark-green skinned oranges ('greens'?). After lunch, with the bus continuing to descent the mountain, we screeched to a halt with one of our guides telling us urgently "Monkey! Monkey!". Sure enough, swinging through the branches along the steep mountainside was a small group of grey woolly monkeys, which are very endearing little monkeys with thick, well, woolly grey fur and very cute faces. One of them had a little baby monkey clinging to her back as they negotiated a 'bridge' made from a fallen tree trunk. Absolutely magical stuff. Everyone was suitably fired-up after this, and thankfully our many hours of driving we nearly done. A little further down the mountain and we were off the bus for the day, with an hour's walk to our lodge for the evening. At this yet-lower altitude, the fog had cleared and the temperature, and humidity, had both gone up noticeably, although not unbearably.

For the next hour we ambled along road, surrounded by what I am told is 'Elfin Rainforest' - as the name suggests, not quite as tall and imposing as what may be considered the 'real deal' but dense and green nonetheless. Near the start of this walk we were steered to a bird-hide to watch Peru's national bird, the Cock-of-the-Rock. These birds - the males at least - are truly exotic looking things; bright orangey-red with piercing white eyes and a frankly daft-looking bulbous crest-type thing on the top of their heads. There were a good five or so males all strutting their stuff, trying to impress any potential females in the area, which generally involved puffing out their chests, crashing around the place and generally making a racket (yes, yes, I know, just like men of other species...). Equipped with our handy binoculars, picked up in El Calafate/La Paz respectively, we were privileged to spend a good thirty minutes or so watching this spectacle. An even better view was afforded by a telescope set up by our guide Jose. As an added bonus, Jose managed to spot and train his telescope on another exotic bird, a Golden-Crested Quetzel. It was beautiful, seemingly made out of brightly coloured beaten-metal. What was to become extremely evident over the next few days was that Jose and Darwin had we both extremely experienced guides, and had an incredible talent for spotting wildlife hiding amongst the thick, overgrown vegetation, things that we almost certainly would never have spotted ourselves.

Indeed, leaving the bird-hide behind us and continuing down to the lodge, they spotted various other exotic birds which we took the time to watch for a little while: Yellow-Browed Flycatchers, Cinnamon Flycatchers, another bird whose name eluded me but which had bright yellow tail feathers (Sarah: It's an Ora pendula, we saw loads of these and they have a really pretty song) - even a boisterous group of green parrots, perhaps fifty or sixty in number, wheeling overhead and making a hell of a screeching racket (although these were flying very high indeed and therefore it was difficult to make out much detail). By the by, I appreciate that with all the name-dropping this blog entry may sound like I am a full-time twitcher - as you have no doubt already guessed, I am merely regurgitating these bird names as told to us by our very knowledgable guides! Aside from birds, we also saw a chain of Army Ants - big, angry looking ants that are nomadic, the colony travelling in a 'river' of ants from A to B, devouring any unfortunate insects, chicks etc. that fall in its path! Needless to say we made sure none got into our boots...

By the time that we arrived at our lodge it was early evening and the sun was beginning to set. Considering we were in the Amazon rainforest, our accommodation was, well, fantastic really. We had a twin room to ourselves, beds suitably mosquito-netted, and there were a number of showers available which had hot water! In what would become a running theme, dinner was excellent. The company, about which I cannot sing enough praise, provides not only two guides (to ensure no more than five people on a trek), but also employ a cook who travels with the group and takes care of all meals (his name is Orlando, in case you feel the need for greater character development). A delicious soup starter followed by some river trout, wonderfully cooked. It was honestly one of the best-cooked meals we'd had in a long time and certainly far more than I was expecting to receive in the middle of nowhere (particularly after the culinary, shall we say, 'challenges', of the salt flats). With no electricity on the area, the lodge uses a generator for lighting and this ran until nine p.m. Not a major issue as we had had a long day and faced another early morning. With the lights out, it was absolutely pitch black, and tired as we were, getting to sleep so early was not a problem. that said, under my mosquito-netting, in the pitch black and oppressive humidity making it feel almost hard to breath at times, I woke up shortly afterward feeling horrendously claustrophobic; thankfully, a little while later I managed to settle down a bit and get back to sleep.

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