The Jungle – 27th July 2010
Up at 4.30, we were rushed into two cosy vans and driven in the empty, dark streets of Lima towards the airport to wait for our flight out to Puerto Maldonado; today we travel to the jungle.
The steamy green expanse that covers over two thirds of Peru is home to an exquisite collection of exotic creatures, plants and landscape. Strings of rivers meander their lazy way through the canvas of mottled leaves, providing the docile hide-outs for monkeys, parakeets and jungle cats. Caws and cries tell stories of the jungle life, a wonderful symphony that continues throughout the day before becoming gentler, more sporadic and altogether more eerie as the night crawls in. But enough of forgotten tales, it was out turn to write our own…
The flight to Puerto Maldonado took us via Cusco, a town we would be coming back to after our excursion to the jungle, and was perhaps the best flight I’ve ever been on. The ascent was incredibly rapid and we went straight above a soft blanket of fine white cotton. It took a long while before a few deep brown peaks broke through the soft sea of white. As the islands rose, more was revealed and civilisation became apparent far below. The terrain was crumpled like an old brown paper bag. The plane dipped closer and the once soft and fuzzy ground became craggy and sharp. High mountain peaks surrounded us, dwarfing the shaking craft as we nose-dived between them. The plane was engulfed in a thick white cloud and we spun like a top before rocketing down to the Urubamba Valley. We dropped out of the cloud and the veil lifted, we turned, swooping low over rows of small, red roofed houses. We had made it to Cusco, nestled high in the Andean mountains. Our stay was momentary, picking up a few extra passengers, and within half an hour the plane was filled once more and we were on our way to Puerto Maldonado.
Our first glimpse of the Amazon we had from the air. A vast field of flat broccoli interlaced with thin slithers of silk, the intense terracotta colour tearing out from behind the shield of green, like a butterfly splitting its cocoon. The mountains were left behind us and we were stranded, drifting like a feather on the wind over the moss covered ground. The landscape transformed as we descended, details unfolding and opening up before our eyes. Threads became rivers, moss became shrubs and then trees, more silk peeled out of the distance like ledger lines being penciled in. Roads formed, stretching between clumps of square huts, and leading us towards the port of the jungle.
At Puerto Maldonado we were allowed out into the sticky heat of the jungle and I was reminded of the small airport at Alice Springs in Central Australia which was also made up of one building housing the departure and arrivals lounge, one runway and a small parking lot out the front. Surrounding us was a wall of fig trees, palms, Brazil nut and cercropia so thick that within meters it became an opaque barrier of trunks and leaves.
There had been some mix up with the next transport and so we were left to wait outside the airport where the stagnant heat was too much to bear, forcing us into the shade, flopped across our luggage. From the top of my suitcase I watched a tuctuc being overloaded with bags, straining and rocking with each addition. The three passengers squeezed themselves in and the motorbike engine received an unforgiving tug before spluttering to life. As the tuctuc rattled away a plume of ochre dust danced in its wake. That explained the taste in the air. After twenty minutes turning to soft butter in the shade of the palm trees our van arrived and we hurled our luggage on to the roof. Tom had warned us of falling luggage and so, although we knew they were roped on, we spent the journey turning to the back window at every pothole, checking for fallen bags.
Bumbling along a dirt road into a sprawling community of houses constructed from scraps of timber and tin, I noticed a contrast between the slow moving pedestrians on the pavement, not daring to exert themselves too much in the stifling heat, and the speeding vehicles, most of them tuctucs and motorbikes zipping along the rough surface.
As we pulled up at a travelers lodge set back from the road with a cobbled path leading up to the entrance we were greeted with a cool breeze and a bubbly personality called Víctor, who had organised a trip in the jungle for tomorrow. On the plain, plastered walls hung various posters promoting the many adventure holidays to be had in the jungle around Puerto Maldonado.
The few bits of paper work were filled out and we were given a tour of the lodge. Directly off the reception were two small rooms. Four beds tucked in the corners with a magnificent drapery of mosquito nets hanging over each. Light from the small dirty window shafted in, illuminating the cool, dusty air in beams reaching to our feet as we peered in from the doorway. The air had a musty taste and I imagined explorers of the past preparing themselves for exciting and dangerous expeditions in that very room. Víctor led us back through the reception area and out into the back garden. Directly ahead was a rough patch of bushes and trees creating cover over the wooden walkway surrounding it. Following the path to the left we passed another dorm. This one would house the six boys and was far more spacious than our previous lodgings in Lima, much to our delight. We ferried our many bags inside, glad to be free of the Sun’s harsh rays. There were a few minutes of excitement exploring the building and the rooms, but I was drawn straight to the five hammocks and was glad to be swinging gently in the cooling shade.
Later in the day, we grew restless and headed out into the town to explore. Lining the Plaza de Armas were an assortment of shops, cafes and restaurants as well as many street vendors wandering around the square. A few hours later, after meandering through the slowly moving streets, we were all shattered.
Before we left England, Tom had said that by the end of the expedition we should be completely exhausted, hungry and out of money. There I was after day three and already drained.
