Proper jungly

Our last jungle day started early again, and we headed up river to a local village. Here we met a group of families, OK …OK, a tribe. I hesitate to call them that because, well OK, they do dress up in their traditional clothes and headdresses, show you how they used to hunt 10-20 years ago, paint their faces and yours in welcome, show how they hunt with poison blowdarts and live in the jungle. But they also own a large banana plantation that they live in the middle of, and usually they wear modern clothing. The clothes and the dancing is for the tourists, and it’s a nice sideline, but its not their day job. But for us this made the experience a whole lot more genuine, and it also just made sense. They show how they lived, pretty recently, they make a little money on the side, but they sell their goods in Iquitos and are not isolated from modern life. They barter, they sell, they live, and probably have a much better life as a result.

But it was also incredible to glimpse a part of their tradition, the culture of which they are understandably proud. They speak no Spanish, but welcomed us to the communal area where they hold meetings, aka a clearing in the jungle. We then saw a demonstration of blowdart hunting, using a poor old straw man as target practice. Their accuracy was stunning, but I was still glad the darts had no poison on today, as we then all had a go. Rowan proved herself a pretty adept shot, and I am proud to say I didn’t let the side down, with 3 hits of the man from 3. Joe alas would not be able to get five wives by virtue of being a great hunter, at least not with the darts: they kept giving him more and more goes, until he got two in! This was a pretty big surprise as with a bow and arrow Joe is unstoppable, but secretly I was a bit smug: I’ve never been a better shot or better at ANYTHING with hand to eye coordination involved than my beloved. He did look infinitely better in the headdress than me however.

After a quick communal dance, must to Jenna’s disgust (she screamed blue murder after Joe trotted off, then when I was cordially invited to join in, and I had to drag her around with my free arm while Rowan and Rhys took embarrassing photos!) it was time for the inevitable retail opportunity. As the people brought out their handmade goods, Joe and I groaned that once again we had come unprepared, with hardly any money. And these people with big eyes, having welcomed us and entertained us so well, were now awaiting the pay off. We borrowed all of Rowan’s remaining birthday money, and emptied our pockets, but it felt pretty miserly. Especially when girls who didn’t look any older that thirteen look at you solemnly, hoping for more, whilst showing you the baby in the arms. The meaning is plain. We’ve scratched your backs, now its time for you to help me feed my baby. We scraped enough together to get Rhys a blowpipe complete with non-poison darts (getting THAT through several airport Customs is our new challenge!), necklaces and friendship bracelets.
The children really left an impression on me: naked, beautiful and wide eyed, they shyly peered round beams and giggled at us. One had a pygmy monkey tied to his head: apparently this is traditional. They later came to see us at the jetty, and I showed them my camera. I tried to ask if it was OK to take a photo, but whether they understood the request I don’t know. So I snapped away, and then showed them the result on the camera. They were wide eyed, and then burst into fits of laughter, pointing at themselves on screen.

We spent our remaining few hours sat in a panga with Luis, fishing for lunch. Alas, we caught no piranhas, the true object of desire, but we – especially the Pritchard women – did manage about 10 fish. Alas 8 of them were toxic, but I got a couple of catfish. None were big enough to eat!! The kids were terrified we would get no lunch as a result, but luckily someone had been more lucky than us, and fried catfish was waiting for us. I have loved fishing both times I’ve done it, and this second time was unreal, dropping a line off a stick into the Amazon and wondering what on earth would bite next.

All too soon we were heading back by boat to Iquitos, after just two nights and three full days in the Amazon. I would highly, highly recommend it. And on the journey back, we were spoilt rotten once again. Not only did we meet a pink dolphin, but a group of grey dolphins, a separate species that migrated up all the way from the Atlantic. And let me tell you, they’re much prettier and more frolic-y! It was amazing to watch. But they, too, were very camera shy … hopefully you’ll make out the splash in the pictures.

We left Luis at Iquitos, where he could get back to his wife and 2 year old daughter. He was a fantastic guide for us, laid back, funny, not overwhelming or demanding. It was great to be in Iquitos if only for coffee with milk in and electric light, and the chance to ride the hair-raising taxi chollos again.

And so after the inevitable delays and lovely chats with interesting people you meet at airports (this time, the ex firefighting Texan I mentioned) it was back to Lima, where we finally finished this mammoth trip and mammoth tale. It is quite telling that the same hotel that seemed so ropey to us on our first night felt positively clean, fresh smelling and luxurious with its HOT WATER – OK but still with no coffee and no breakfast if you are twenty minutes EARLIER than breakfast is supposed to end – two weeks to the day after our first experience of it.

But that’s Peru all over. It wears you down, shows you real marvels, makes you feel rather sullied, then exhilarated and just plain exhausted in very quick succession. We would not have missed it for the world, but boy was it hard work, physically, mentally and emotionally. It was time for some serious R&R in Chile.