Manu, Day One
The majority of the tour group had left around 8 hours before I signed up for the trip. Luckily the organizers were willing to arrange for me to catch up. The trip is a grueling two days, on what the Lonely Planet guide calls the worst stretch of road in Peru. I was going to condense that trip to one day.
On Monday about 4, I set out in a tiny Toyota minivan with two German naturalists, a local named Alvin and the driver, Ringo. About 4 hours into the trip, my companions were inexplicably dropped off on the side of the road. A couple of locals appeared out of the dense jungle and began to carry off their mound of equipment. I was left alone with the driver.
The road was all that the guidebook promised. It was very bumpy, with sharp curves, precipitous cliffs and was frequently covered with swiftly moving water. Twice, Ringo had to change a tire. He was dressed like he was about to play a round of golf. I felt sorry he had to lie in very deep mud to do this work.
In a small town called, Pacartambo, we stopped for breakfast. While we ate a small boy removed a wheel from our van and hammered out a very large dent. In no time we were back on our slightly less bumpy way.
Ringo did not speak, but sang quitely to himself for hours. I tried to read, and not pay attention to the speed at which we were taking sharp, muddy curves.
After another few hours we stopped in a small town for lunch. It was one of the restaurants where there is not a menu, you just take what are given. In this case it was a soup with spaghetti and what I hope was a chicken neck. It was topped off with a glass of water that looked like it was taken from a creek in Alabama after a night of rain. The cook looked disappointed that I didn't touch my fine cut of meat or my thick red water.
We picked up a man off the side of the road who said he was another guide. I never caught his name. He was dressed solely in a pair of 70´s track shorts, and had hair reaching almost to his waist. We were guided down to a very large river called the Alto Madre Dios. Here I left Ringo behind and boarded a large motor canoe with a few locals.
The river is amazing. It is dark and muddy with waves like the ocean. The currents are so bad that they turn back on themselves and river seems to completely change direction. Entire trees float next to the boat. Rather than logging many locals just pull trees out of the river and sell them.
Like every other trip locals are deposited in the most inhospitable places and scamper into the woods. I reach my stop after half an hour. It is surprisingly nice cluster of thatched a-frame buildings.
I am shown to a very nice screened in room with a bed an mosquito net. Naturally think this is the end of the day and lie down. Yet another guide appears and tells me I need to meet the rest of the group at the canopy tour.
We head off into the jungle. After about twenty minutes I meet the group of 7. I´m immediately fitted with a harness and ushered high into the trees. This isn't my first time riding zip lines and rappeling, so I volunteer to be first. The canopy tour is enjoyable. It is not quite as exicting as the one Kimberly, Danny and I did in Costa Rica, but it is a lot of fun.
Mercifully, after dinner I´m finally allowed to sleep.
The majority of the tour group had left around 8 hours before I signed up for the trip. Luckily the organizers were willing to arrange for me to catch up. The trip is a grueling two days, on what the Lonely Planet guide calls the worst stretch of road in Peru. I was going to condense that trip to one day.
On Monday about 4, I set out in a tiny Toyota minivan with two German naturalists, a local named Alvin and the driver, Ringo. About 4 hours into the trip, my companions were inexplicably dropped off on the side of the road. A couple of locals appeared out of the dense jungle and began to carry off their mound of equipment. I was left alone with the driver.
The road was all that the guidebook promised. It was very bumpy, with sharp curves, precipitous cliffs and was frequently covered with swiftly moving water. Twice, Ringo had to change a tire. He was dressed like he was about to play a round of golf. I felt sorry he had to lie in very deep mud to do this work.
In a small town called, Pacartambo, we stopped for breakfast. While we ate a small boy removed a wheel from our van and hammered out a very large dent. In no time we were back on our slightly less bumpy way.
Ringo did not speak, but sang quitely to himself for hours. I tried to read, and not pay attention to the speed at which we were taking sharp, muddy curves.
After another few hours we stopped in a small town for lunch. It was one of the restaurants where there is not a menu, you just take what are given. In this case it was a soup with spaghetti and what I hope was a chicken neck. It was topped off with a glass of water that looked like it was taken from a creek in Alabama after a night of rain. The cook looked disappointed that I didn't touch my fine cut of meat or my thick red water.
We picked up a man off the side of the road who said he was another guide. I never caught his name. He was dressed solely in a pair of 70´s track shorts, and had hair reaching almost to his waist. We were guided down to a very large river called the Alto Madre Dios. Here I left Ringo behind and boarded a large motor canoe with a few locals.
The river is amazing. It is dark and muddy with waves like the ocean. The currents are so bad that they turn back on themselves and river seems to completely change direction. Entire trees float next to the boat. Rather than logging many locals just pull trees out of the river and sell them.
Like every other trip locals are deposited in the most inhospitable places and scamper into the woods. I reach my stop after half an hour. It is surprisingly nice cluster of thatched a-frame buildings.
I am shown to a very nice screened in room with a bed an mosquito net. Naturally think this is the end of the day and lie down. Yet another guide appears and tells me I need to meet the rest of the group at the canopy tour.
We head off into the jungle. After about twenty minutes I meet the group of 7. I´m immediately fitted with a harness and ushered high into the trees. This isn't my first time riding zip lines and rappeling, so I volunteer to be first. The canopy tour is enjoyable. It is not quite as exicting as the one Kimberly, Danny and I did in Costa Rica, but it is a lot of fun.
Mercifully, after dinner I´m finally allowed to sleep.
posted by Terrell at 8:31 PM
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