Posts Tagged ‘jungle’

These guys can make fire in the rain! (A jungle camp 200 miles north of Manaus)

Monday, March 22nd, 2010

And this was no European rain. This was proper Amazonian rain forest rain. Heavy bombs of water, drenching anything they came into contact with. Thankfully we only had to witness this miraculous incendiary feat on the final morning of our jungle trek. Those that were awake had been enjoying the electric light show above from the comfort of their hammocks as thunder and lightning rolled past our jungle camp. After about an hour into the show our head guide shouted for everyone to pack up and huddle under the palm leaf shelter because it was going to rain. Apparently he could hear it approaching. (It all sounded the same to me. I guess that’s why he’s a guide.) Sure enough, within 10 minutes the rain arrived; soaking anything/anyone that hadn’t made it under the shelter in time. The downpour started to ease after another 20 minutes and just as we [tourists] had resigned ourselves to no breakfast before the 3 hour hike and 1 hour boat ride back to the jungle lodge the guides darted out, cut palm branches (to shelter the fire place), cut the wet layers off the logs and started a roaring fire… in the rain. Breakfast was served. Amazing!

At the risk of sounding like an ungrateful tourist, watching our guides make fire in the rain was probably the most spectacular thing I experienced in the Amazon. The problem is on my part. I’ve had my expectations skewed by nature programs and films. It wasn’t the wildlife. I knew that we might not see many animals. The jungle is vast and they have better places to be than hanging around paths cut by humans. It was the vegetation that let me down. I had visions of thick, impenetrable jungle and vines, all shrouded in mist. (Perhaps with the odd monkey or parrot occasionally swinging/flying into view.) In reality, the canopy (60 metres above) starves the rest of the jungle of sunlight. So in the desperate race upwards many plants don’t waste energy producing lots of leaves and fruits at our level. It all happens in the canopy above. My deflated expectations aside, it was still a hugely enjoyable experience; spotting monkeys and birds (albeit in the canopy 60 metres above), catching piranhas and caymans, learning about the medicinal properties of plants and trees, making blowpipes, canoeing through flooded forest channels, watching sunrise and sunset from the river, etc. It’s worth going, just don’t expect many David Attenborough moments.

After being shown this extremely large and well camouflaged tarantula every nature poo thereafter was a rather tense affair.

Large spider in the Amazon rain forest

Our guide holding a rather large taranchula

I also have a vague recollection of buying (perhaps sponsoring) a couple of Amazon rain forest tress for 50 pence each when I was in junior school. I’ve half a mind to try and claim a couple of the mahogany trees I saw. At 6 metres circumference and 60 metres tall they must be worth a fortune now. Not a bad little investment… I wonder if I still have the certificate somewhere.

Paddling on the Rio Negra Amazon

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Brazil smells good (Sao Paulo – 25,648 miles)

Saturday, February 27th, 2010

Southern Brazil is thick, green jungle. In fact anything that isn’t a mammal or man-made is green. I also get the feeling that if the constant maintenance was stopped the tarmac would very quickly be reclaimed by the vegetation. And the smells seem to be much stronger here: cut grass, cut wood, burning wood, baking cereals, processing meats, new tarmac, etc. I’m even starting to like the sickly sweet smell of the burnt ethanol they use for motor fuel. Oh, and the roads have curves in them. Long, sweeping bends. Tight hairpins. On-camber. Off-camber. Rising. Falling. The lot. Made all the more interesting by the presence of numerous lorries. I know in my previous post I said the bike and I would limp to Sao Paulo but after 20 minutes on the BR-116 from Curitiba I couldn’t help myself. I think the technical term my brother-in-law uses is “progressing”. Others may know it as “thrashing the sh*t out of it”. Whatever you want to call it, I’ve had an awesome day. I’d forgotten how much fun it is to ride a motorbike. So much so that I’m even toying with the idea of replacing my chain and sprockets (again) to continue on the bike for the next couple of weeks. Or should I finish riding the bike on a high note? I’ll sleep on it and decided in the morning.

This chain should be nice and snug to the sprocket… Unfortunately, it ain’t!

Extremely worn chain and sprocket on a Honda XL650 Transalp

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A house in the jungle

Monday, August 17th, 2009

I´ve come to realise that this trip is more about the people I meet than the places I visit. Whilst I´ve seen some amazing sites it´s the friends I´ve made that will probably remain with me longer. I say probably because I think my already bad memory may have deteriorated slightly since the tumble.  Perhaps I´m just being paranoid. Anyway…

Ingrid´s sisters paid a surprise visit to her parents´ house this weekend and she invited me to meet them all. After a quick check that I wasn´t inadvertently getting married I jumped at the chance. It´s not everyday that as  tourist you have the privilege of being invited to stay at someone´s home. The home in question is part of a small village cut into the jungle, accessed by a single dirt road. I don´t think they have many outsiders visiting so the sight of us on my motorbike drew quite a bit of attention from onlookers. We left the bike at a friends house because the only access to Ingrid´s is a narrow, sloping path past large banana and coconut trees and  an enormous bamboo. (I´ve never seen bamboo that big – it must have been 40 metres or so.) The main house is a single storey, two roomed concrete building with a wooden kitchen and bedroom (for the parents) annexed to the side. All surrounded by jungle and various domesticated and wild animals.

Fortunately one of Ingrid´s sisters speaks english, which took the pressure off introductions slightly. I needn´t have been worried though because her whole family were so welcoming that they immediately made me feel at ease. I will always have fond memories of laughing our way through dinner. Crowded into a wooden hut with uneven dirt floor, eating chicken that had been running around just hours before. My inability to understand everything didn´t seem to matter as I have a feeling that much of it was Ingrid regaling my various mistakes in the restaurant. My only slightly tense moment was wondering what the sleeping arrangements were going to be as there seemed to be lots of men, women and children and only two rooms in the building. This was short-lived however when Ingrid told me that men sleep in one room and women and children in the other. Despite my protests, I was lucky enough to be given a bed and after a good nights sleep Ingrid and I said our goodbyes to the family and set off for work at Hotel Backpackers early the next morning.

Much as I´m enjoying myself here I´m starting to get itchy feet and feel I need to get back on the road. Following the advice of all the doctors I know I´ve given my brain the recommended 4-5 weeks to recover, reducing the chances of serious problems if I have another knock. So I´ll be heading off at the end of the week.

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I’ve found a paradise in the jungle (El Pachan – 7,285 miles)

Saturday, July 11th, 2009

I won’t lie to you. Juchitan is a dump. Its only redeeming feature is an event that happens at dusk each day. For a few minutes the sky over the plaza darkens as 100s if not 1000s of birds descend on the trees to roost. The screeching of these birds builds from a distance to an almost deafening racket as they all pick a spot to sleep for the night. A rather surreal experience.

My guidebook says that San Cristobal de Las Casas is one of the most beautiful towns in Mexico. I’d say that it’s not a patch on Durango or Puebla. However, El Pachan (near Palenque) is a paradise built in the jungle. Building holiday villages in jungles is not a new concept but I like the fact that one man started the community here and all the businesses that have built up are owned and run by his offspring and their families. A private, family village as it were. The huts, laundry, travel agent, 3 bars and restaurant are built into the jungle. Lots of strange noises at night but a great setting and always busy. I highly recommend it. I have a feelling that a few of the bands and fire dancers that perform every night are travellers that arrived for a couple of days and never managed to leave. Apparently it’s not uncommon for people to overstay by a few weeks or in some cases settle here. An American called Steve has been here for 9 years! However, I will be leaving tomorrow, to cover the 300 odd miles to the Belize border. Time to change countries.

can you see my hut

Before I sign off though I’d like to mention a fellow motorcycle traveller I met here yesterday. Sean is an Australian and his world tour makes my little adventure look like a walk in the park. Although he’s stopped to work for periods of of time between trips he will have effectively been on the road for 5 years. The 1st leg from India to the UK. The 2nd from Spain to Capetown and this final leg from Toronto to Santiago. His 1986 BMW R65 (a road bike -  with road tyres) has taken him all the way and it sounds like they have ridden through everything. Sheet ice in Russia. Desert roads to Timbuktu. Sand, rivers, mountains. You name it and he’s done it. Inspiring stuff.

seans bike

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