Where do we start? Journey was as expected. Hell. 8 hours on coach at night with Spanish dubbed film blaring out of every speaker, followed by 3 hour wait in hotel lobby (nap on a marble floor, anyone?), followed by another 2 hours on a bus, followed by 2 hours on a motorised canoe. But when we reached our destination... Woweee.
On journey to our lodge we spotted (we are having a breakdown writing this because there´s just so much to say!) Sloth, Toucans, Macaws and... Monkeys!!!!
Our eco lodge (Samona Lodge) was great. No electricity of course, but we are so at one with nature that we lapped it up. Literally. Candle light romantic evenings anyone? Yes please. Open flame dangerously close to fabric curtain anyone? Mmmmm. One night we had several guests in our room which we enjoyed. We entertained a tree frog (corner of room above Amy´s head), 2 cockroaches (one in Amy´s bed, one in Hannah´s washbag) and an arrogant MASSIVE grasshopper style beast. We hate arrogance, especially in insects.
On the first night we went in our motorised canoe to the Laguna Grande, to see the Sunset. Bootiful….
We were on the Equator line. It was pretty emotional. So much so that we stopped talking for once. Back at the lodge we went searching for bugs with our lovely guide, Marie-Anna. And we found loads of beasties, including…
Tarrantula! We both held her and she was oh so soft and light.
Ate dinner (3 courses, mind you) and straight to bed.
On the second day we visited a local native village. They showed us how to make Yuka bread we learnt about their cultures. However, most importantly, they had a PET MONKEY! His name was Nacho and he climbed all over us.
Swam in the river, Piranha es no problem para us. Then off to see the Shaman. Using hallucinogenic vines, he can see inside people and heal them. His head-dress was made of toucan and macaw feathers. After he had given us a demonstration and told us about his life and work (in beautiful, dulcet tones), he invited anyone with an ailment to step up and be cured. Great! A chance for Amy to fix her clicky knee before the Inca trail.
Ouch.
We walked (Amy limped) into the forest and tried Cacao fruit and Guava. We thanked the Shaman (Amy less so) and went on our jolly way.
We went on a night walk through the forest and saw some x-rated insect action. WHAT is the white stuff??
Amy's knee feels pretty much the same, only a bit more stingy.
In the evening we got a bit tipsy with our group, and we became LIBRO … Liberated or free in Spanish. Heronimo told us so. Heronimo (Jeronimo!- Very funny joke when drunk) worked at the camp and spoke about as much English as we do Spanish so communication was hard, but we had a good crack. Sat out late on the jetty, listening to the sounds of the rainforest and looking at the stars. Magic. Heronimo tried to feed us a potent drink which we think was red wine and rum. Fave. We went to bed.
Unfortunately Hannah was attacked during the night by a hoard of mosquitoes. Bitten about 100 times. Not an exaggeration. Winner.
Amy´s knee does not seem to feel any better.
In the morning we walked through the rainforest and stalked a deer with our trusty canoe driver Caramello. We had to navigate through bogs and test our balance ability. We did not fall in, which was excellent. In the afternoon swam in the river some more and then we went Piranha fishing (Amy pretended to fish a bit but did not put on any bait) and Hannah got silently furious and competitive when she was not being successful. Thank God (for Amy´s sake) that she caught one in the end. They were released back into the river with a story to tell (“You will NEVER guess what just happened to me!” “Don´t make things up, Pete- you lying Piranha Prat” “I did!” “Just ignore him, he only wants attention”).
We feel like we have not mentioned animals enough, but trust us they were everywhere. Lots of crazy birds, including the Hoatzin which was Amy´s fave…
Some ants taste like lemon. We know that now. This is because Marie-Anna made us pick some off a tree and lick them. Which we did with gusto (Mucho Gusto?).
That evening we went searching for Caiman. And we found them. Lots of them. Their beedy little red eyes poking out of the water all around our boat. Scary biscuits! At one point we were surrounded by 7 of the blighters.
That night we were told that we should go dancing with Heronimo. He was rather excited about the prospect. We slipped off to bed to avoid said encounter, and promptly learnt the phrase “Tengo Novio” (I have a boyfriend).
The next morning, we saw The Biggie… Caiman Negro. Grande.
This bad boy can grow up to 8 metres and he had no trouble with us driving the canoe right up in his grill. He could take us. He knew it. We knew it.
Up at 5.30 that morning, looking for dolphins in the mist. Sadly, no joy BUT we did see some more monkeys! Yay! Capuchin this time and an active little troop, swinging from tree to tree.
Back to the camp to pack. Heronimo (Jeronimo!) ignored us all morning which was rather amusing. When we said goodbye he turned the other cheek. I think he hoped we might settle with him in the rainforest. A nice idea mate.
Hasta luego buddies.
We must finish now for fear of rambling. We had such an amazing time here and we hope we got across the general wonderfulness! Hopefully more photos to come...So much more to tell but we are spent.
Hasta luego buddies.
H & A xx
PS. How was Chesney? Mole report required.
PPS Happy Birthday Uncle Rob.
Thanks for keeping us so well entertained with your very funny and interesting blogs. What an amazing adventure you are having. I don't think you will want to come home. We are all fine here, plodding on with our daily (but not so interesting) adventures, but as always, looking forward to the next blog from you two.
ReplyDeleteAll our love, Mum xx
Oh I LOVE it! Sounds amazingly amazing. Not so keen on the knee treatment though Aim! Ming. SO pleased you saw so many monkeys and other genius wildlife. I would have been less than keen with the cockroaches in bed and wash-bag incidents though. Bleugh. And lemon ants? Who would have thought it.
ReplyDeleteSO loving your blog and delighted you are having such a fantastic time. I am officially an egg on legs now with 4 weeks to go tomorrow. Come on baby! I'm so bored of being pregnant!
Please do keep up the blog when you can. Absolutely adore it's work.
Keep safe girls and always remember that Tengo Novio line. VERY useful.
Louise
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I am in danger of internal injury caused by excessive laughter! Great report, Girls. Loved reading it.
ReplyDeleteThat Shaman deserves to be awarded nought out of a possible one hundred, methinks. I trust you didn’t leave him smiling in a self-congratulatory manner, after he had sold you some dock-leaves, baking powder and calamine lotion at vastly inflated prices...? We’re on to HIS little game. Neat little racket he’s running, there. Or perhaps he was working on the basis that the nettle-stings would cause so much discomfort to my poor Amy that she would instantly forget about the pain associated with her “clicky knee”!
Magical pics, and the wildlife is amazing. Not quite so enamoured of the insect tales (or even tails: especially those with a sting in them), since the little critters seem utterly incapable of politely sticking to their own territory; preferring to settle down cosily in your beds and wash-bags. Must say that the copulating couple who seem to be involved, at the same time, in what looks like a cross between pass-the-parcel and an egg-and-spoon race are rather fascinating, though; not to mention extremely dexterous.
You found Rotor! But would he come home to his mother, Maidey...? I assume not, as you have given us no such glad tidings. Never mind: Maidey seems to have entirely forgotten him; it’s really only the rest of us - and chiefly Kaley – who miss him desperately.
Scary old Croc. Was he ticking, or saying “Haaaaaa!” (a la Johnny Morris) a lot...? Not the sort of creature you see every day; certainly not in the villages of the Home Counties, such as Hogsnorton-in-the-Wold or Shivering-under-Wychwood.
I take it your oversexed Geronimo isn’t a descendant of the Chief of the Apache tribe...? I looked up the meaning of the name: “one who yawns”. Not enough, in his case, obviously; except, perhaps, after copious rum and red wine concoctions. Now I see why it was necessary to get him drunk, on a regular basis.
You don’t mention the plumbing arrangements...and probably best if you keep them under wraps, or canvas, or summat. One can only imagine...and would rather not, thank you very much. Suffice it to say that I doubt old Thomas Crapper sold many of his wares up the jungle.
That’s more than enough nonsensical waffling from me. I now drift off to stare, spellbound, at my just-delivered new dishwasher, for which I have been waiting since the old one packed-up when the house was heaving with folk at Christmas. Not only is it new, but it is also FREE, since The Parj and I discovered a long-forgotten insurance policy we had taken out on the old one. Whether it actually WORKS or not, is another matter entirely, of course, and perhaps too much to expect. (Nail-biting stuff around here, Girls.)
Look forward to your next, action-packed, hilarious report.
Ooooodles.
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