Amazonias - Leticia and Puerto Narino

Landing in Leticia offers a spectacular view of the sheer size of the Amazon rain forest. It is almost like going to a different planet when you compare the view from Bogotá airport. A sea of green forest met the horizon in every direction, it felt like we were literally landing in the middle of the whole jungle. This of course was not the case as it is vast and its centre probably lies a lot further south in Bolivia or Brazil. Another sad truth hit me with regard to just how big it must have been originally, I could actually see a flattened area that had obviously been recently cut down.

Leticia itself was not that much of a spectacle but there were signs that we were close to something very special; The 100's of Parakeets that flocked to the park every evening, the turtles in the river, the Jaguar skins on the hostel wall.

The hostel owner was worth meeting though, he speaks 5 languages for a start. For the most part he was very nice but did have some paranoid tendencies and was partial to some very funny five minutes. After assuring us that his room was a safe place to put the bags while we were there, he changed his mind completely after requesting a place to leave some of our unnecessary belongings before our journey to Puerto Narino. Apparently someone had tried to break in the night before and he was now building a mirador (watch tower) for the night guard and going to operate a shoot on site policy which may be of some concern to travellers returning from a late night that take a wrong turn. He also kicked a couple of lads out before they had checked in because they had bad auras. Like I said definitely worth meeting.

Apart from access to the real Amazon Leticia is notable for being in the corner of 3 countries; Colombia, Peru, and Brazil. You can actually walk between Brazil and Colombia without showing your passport. Peru is only a very short boat ride away. We also found one of the finest pastries we have encountered this whole trip; an extremely fine example of the raspberry Danish.

After rain stopped play for a whole day we finally left on the boat to Puerto Narino. After all the nonsense of packing smaller bags and then having to take our big ones anyway we were not amused by all of the usual realities of moving locations in South America; The delays, the uncertainties about price, not being sure whether the people helping you actually are, more delays, carrying bags, trying to avoid confrontation or theft....... We were really tired any way but for the first time I felt like I was tried of all the rigmarole and was quite looking forward to some home comforts. Maybe I was ready to go home in 4 weeks.

Puerto Narino was an instant reminder of why you put yourself through all of the discomfort of the road and 10 minutes after arrival all I did was wish that I could spend more time there. After getting a free (it really was) boat from the centre to our hostel we were greeted by excellently loud, eccentric and benevolent owner Hector and 2 of the cutest monkeys I have ever seen. They climbed all over you (especially if you were a girl), let you stroke them and would even sleep in you lap. They were adorable like spoilt children until you had a conflict of interests e.g. you did not want them to; drink your coffee, eat your lunch, rummage through your belongings, wake you up in the morning. Hector was not unlike Dr Doolittle in his affinity for animals as he had won the affection of a dog, 1 cat, 4 kittens, 2 monkeys, 1 Macaw and an incredible little owl. All were free to come and go at will. His communication style differed somewhat from the Dr though as he was definitely more of a monkey shouter than a horse whisperer. The comical chants of “Monkey NO!” never get tired and the thought of hearing it is making me smile right now. You can even induce the chant by calling “Monkey NO!” yourself and then in a fantastic and predictable echo you get Hector version right back. I am quite tempted to call it out right now, although it is rather unfair on the monkeys when they are behaving and relaxing.

The range, scope and value of activities at Puerto Narino is staggering. During our 5 days here we have; seen and swam with pink and grey fresh water dolphins, fished for and eaten piranhas, gone on an amazing 5 hour trek to a local village and back (after watching a local game of football and grabbing a locally grown pineapple for refreshment), finding a cocoa farm and a man who processed and sold balonitas (little balls) of pure cocoa, hammocking, relaxing, and cooking. We also located the pineapple bush which you have to see to believe, much like the cashew tree. The amount of effort the plant puts in to producing the fruit or nut and then one tropical salad later (I do love a cashew nut sprinkling) and it is all gone.

There was one very memorable moment on the return trip from the village. On the way out we had past a little house and they had a very yappy little dog. On the way back we saw that same dog with his 3 big brothers running towards us barking quite aggressively. We had a minute or so before they arrived so I thought it would be best to grab a nearby stick, the girls did the same. Unfortunately the nearby sticks we all rotten and on the first practice swing my diminished from 5 ft to 1 and a half. I stood my ground with the girls as the dogs approached. They attacked the girls first and Chantelle retreated a couple of steps quickly with a little scream, Ngaire stood her ground but more in fear than in courage as the dogs were biting at the stick and her legs. She was moving slowly towards me and I was bracing myself for the confrontation with the 4 dogs and me when something amazing happened. That something had a name. It was our French friend Jonathan who I had completely forgotten about. Luckily he had not forgotten about us. He charged in with nothing but his t-shirt and saved the day. The girls were calling him a hero and I was inclined to agree. It got us thinking about a certain song by Mariah Carey which we rewrote in his honour;

There’s a hero

When you’re lost inside the woods

You don’t have to be afraid

Of rabid dogs

There's no answer

If the dogs can smell your fear

And then Jonathan appears

And scares them away

And then a hero comes along

And his name was Jonathan

And he cast the dogs aside

And we knew we would survive

So when you feel like life is gone

He's beside you

And he's strong

And we finally saw the truth

He's pure hero we've got proof

Its a slow death when you face the pack alone

And the end is getting near

You hold your breath

He will save you

Armed only with his shirt

And the terror that you felt

Will melt away

And then a hero comes along

And his name was Jonathan

And he cast the dogs aside

And we knew we would survive

So when you feel like life is gone

He's beside you

And he's strong

And we finally saw the truth

He's pure hero we've got proof

And we finally saw the truth

He's pure hero we've got proof

It really is a place beyond words and although we were sad to leave we hope that we will return. I would recommend it but hope it does not become too popular and ruin something very special.

Joseph Davies 16/11/2010

Back to Bogota

Just before the quest into the Amazon we had an opportunity to meet back up with our Galapagos friends Edward and Tara. They had offered us a room to stay in their lovely flat and an opportunity for some overdue home comforts. They were extremely generous . They cooked us a steak and ale pie with Jaime Oliver lime chips on our first night. It felt like we were dreaming. As we sipped wine and reminisced about the Archipelago we thought that maybe going home would not be so bad after all.

Tara is a wild life photographer and was always wielding her massive lens during our time on the islands. The fruits of her labour had been blow up big and where displayed on canvas mounted on huge Easels around the flat. They truly were stunning and it was great to be transported back to that magical place.

Other weekend activities included cruising round another artisan market, eating lunch out in restaurants, eating dark chocolate, catching up on washing, sleeping in an incredibly comfy bed, taking hot showers and watching a 40 minute HD video of our time in Galapagos. The actual sound track had been largely dubbed and replaced by orchestral music except a guest vocal from yours truly when I proclaim “look how many see lions there are!”.

They are hoping to start a family and Tara is entering the photos in Wildlife photographer of the year and we wish them luck in both. Thanks again guys.

Facing your fears

Self Contained Underwater Breathing Apparatus

5 years ago I exposed myself to excessively loud dance music in Ibiza. I had been there for 3 months and only had 1 week to go. I was dancing inside a famous nightclub called Space. There were clearly no noise restrictions and all of a sudden something went horribly wrong with my hearing. A disturbing and painful ringing started in my left ear and all though it has subsided my hearing has never been the same since. Apart from the devastating implications with regard to my DJ and live music based lifestyle the other problem is that I was more sensitive to pressure on planes and underwater. I tried to equalise several years later and it resulted in significant pain and discomfort for weeks. I thought that my long harboured dreams of scuba diving were now never to be realised.

This had been my reality for that whole time until this trip where I met and spoke to a lot of divers and diving instructors. I built up the courage to try to equalise again when snorkelling and it went really well. Although very anxious I realised I had to try and go further into the depths. The opportunity came when on the Caribbean coast of Colombia in a place called Taganga. I found a dive school and was reassured by someone who had learned to dive there of their professionalism. I was to dive tomorrow.

First however I was to watch a 180 minute PADI open water video. It started out well with the all the science and theory involved and I was really enjoying learning about buoyancy and pressure changes in your body. It did however drag when it became all self serving and basically a promotional video for diving. My time was done and I was to return mañana.

I slept well in my newly purchased hammock and got up with enough time to grab a flavour packed fresh tropical smoothly before dive school. Chan also came along for the ride to conquer her own fear of the deep sea. I met my dive instructor and he was calm and cool. He talked me through the equipment and the hand signals required for underwater communication. I strapped on the equipment and it felt cumbersome and awkward. Everyone talks about the first time they breathed underwater and it was cool but not something I felt apprehensive about. I was more concerned about the increasing pressure as we got deeper and my hyper sensitive hearing. Everything however turned out to be very sweet and I sailed through the required tests; taking out the respirator, filling and clearing your goggles with water, assuming the Zen Buddha position to prove you had mastered neutral buoyancy. It is really hard to express real emotion with just a few basic hand signals but my instructor was a pro and gave me an Oscar winning performance of a proud and pleased teacher. I was ecstatic. I had another dive in the afternoon and was treated to bright and brilliant coral and fish. Apparently you can see more wildlife in 10 minutes diving than you can in 10 days in the forest. Whether that is true or not the density and variety of life is incredible. 

I instantly extended my 2 trial dives to the full open water course of six and the next days 2 days were a unique and rewarding experience. Looking up at the vast blue expanse and watching your exhaled bubbles rise until they disappear is like being in a dream. A happiness over came me as I had overcome 5 years of doubt and finally witnessed what it is like down on a coral reef. There were fish of all colours and sizes, squid, lion fish and much more. The word coral does not really do any justice to the massive living, life giving entity that it is. It would have been breath taking but holding your breath is not advised underwater.

Like when learning any new skill there is a lot to think about and the equipment is the thing on your mind as it is all completely new to you. Whether it is equalising your goggles, reading your air gauge or managing your buoyancy there is a lot on your mind. The most important rule is to breath the whole time as static air in your lungs can expand and cause serious lung damage and possible death. I did not find this a hard rule to follow and I follow the same rule above the sea. The other rule is to equalise early and often one which I obsessed about the first day and was probably why I had no problems. The second day I was concerned with all the other stuff and my goggle were moving all over my head and ears. I got distracted and had to equalise rather hard which was fine at the time but resulted in nearly a weeks worth of pain and discomfort. I did not come on straight away and after my 4th dive in two days I worked hard to complete all the theory and pass the exam so all that would be left was 2 fun dives. I tried to dive over the next 3 days but my ears never felt right. I decided to go to Venezuela for 10 days and then come back.

My ears settled and I was able to finish the dive and get my open water. The relief was tangible and although diving is not something I can do a lot of it will always be something that I have done. Chantelle jumped in and swam on that first day and we were both elated to have overcome our fears. To face a fear whether physical or psychological is to feel alive. So if you want to do something but are not sure you can or have the courage, do it soon and then the fear will be faced and gone. 

Joseph Davies 12/11/10 

Back to Colombia

We arrive before 7am after another nights sleep on the bus. We are very short on money so take a shared bus. We were assured that no matter how many people turned up we would be leaving within 30 minutes. 3Hrs, 15 people, 10 suitcases, a flat screen TV, and some powdered milk later we were off.

Even saints and mothers patience wear out eventually and ours was in tatters after a week of intense travel and broken sleep. I brought up the fact that we were deceived with regard to the leaving time. This was not well received. After some aggressive dialogue in Spanish in what was a rather unpleasant exchange they talked about us amongst themselves. I could make out a few words; 4am (potential arrival time?), falta con pasaporte (passport problems), gringos (even though we are not American), negrita (referring to Chan 'little black' which acts as a cultural commentary as they just call things as they see them). We were slightly apprehensive as you often need information and directions from the bus workers. It turns out that rocking the boat that your are about to sail in for the next few hours is ill advised no matter how true your point was. The drivers rage was reflected in his erratic and often uncomfortable driving but at least we were on the move.

5 minutes later we stop for petrol. One last look at the pricing meter that defies belief at the price of less than1 Bolivar (12 cents) for 10 litres. After filling up we hit the road again.

20 minutes later at 9:30 we stopped for almuezo (lunch). We were now actually laughing about the absurdity of it all. The empanadas were delicious and it would have hardly been right to leave Venezuela without one last deep fried supper.

We stopped a further 7 times to show our passports. There was a lot of talk about and handing over of money which was used to bribe the police checking our identification. Every time they refused the bribe and then the driver would complain, leave the bus and return 10 minutes later. These bribes must have cost all of them as much as the ticket itself. Although we will never know for sure what illegal things they had we think that it had something to do with powdered milk. There is a shortage at the moment all over Venezuela. We we asked why and they told us that the cows had gone dry much to their and our amusement. The real reasons were then given but sadly lost in translation.

We paid our 65 Bolivars to leave the country, had our passports stamped, spent our last Bolivars on some extortionate cold beverage and finally arrived 6 hours after arriving in what should have been a 2 and a half hour trip. We changed buses for the last four hour trip of the Venezuelan tour and were glad of the air conditioning and to be free of our sweaty and stressful incarceration.

Joseph Davies 30/10/10

Los Relampagos de lago de Maracaibo or The Lightening of lake Maracaibo

`

Stream of consciousness;

Dazzling stars start the show, Venus is a beacon of brilliant white, waves splash against our remote shack on the lake, the lightening arrives timidly offering sporadic flashes of orange against the black.

We embark on a night safari; the engine is the only sound, the guides eagle like vision is staggering, red eyes reflect back the flash light, our guide pulls out a meter long Cayman, I tentatively hold the tail and brace myself for the struggle, I master the firm but gentle pressure required to keep its mouth closed tight without hurting it and set it free, it gyrates its limbs in a kind of liberation dance before re-entering the water, we joke about the story it tells its friends about the human abduction. The captain mentions rain although this seems unlikely as there is not a cloud in the sky.

The electric light orchestra has begun by the time we return; waves of light and colour illuminate the clouds and the blackness, the forks streak sideways as they prance across the darkness, tiredness gets the better of us, we retire to our hammocks.

Deafening thunder, wind and the rain interrupt our slumber, the sound of the water hitting the metal roof could wake the dead, we relocate to a more secluded and dryer place, it turns out that of course the local was right about the rain.

The return trip begins with with a mangrove adventure; local crab fishing techniques observed, endemic night screamer spotted, it turns out the rain has disturbed the wildlife and our chances of seeing fresh water dolphins and turtles is gone.

We stop of for a shower in a waterfall, grab a cocoa pod souvenir, and get slightly freaked out by the perpetual darkness of a cave. We arrive back in Merida with enough time to replace flip flops, grab some local music, and buy food before our night bus back to Maracaibo.

Joseph Davies 30/10/10

Chuao

Jesus literally shows us the way. As we approach the beach a man asks us where we are going, after informing him we were off to Chuao (pronounced sh-wow) he told us how much the boat would be. We needed some supplies first as it is only accessible by boat and Jesus was very happy to indulge our desires for sun screen, ice for our picnic, and a cool box. We were ready to leave, so bid Jesus farewell and got in our lancha (small speed boat) and headed out of the clear turquoise Caribbean sea.

The bay of Chuao is definitely some thing to see, it is a stunning quaint little cove with palms and pelicans. It is split into two distinct parts;the beach which is beautiful but uneventful and the pueblo which had a little bit more life and more importantly a lot more chocolate. The first sign of cocoa was a little picture on the welcome sign and it was great to see. There was however no real option of buying any chocolate that was not Nestle by the beach so we took a walk the pueblo.

It was an incredible walk on a road that cuts right through the middle of a cocoa forest. We stood in the shade to escape the blistering heat, the cocoa have had the same ides their whole lives as they thrive only in the shade of taller canopy trees. These are affectionately known as the madres de cocoa (mothers of cocoa). Although the walk was beautiful we were all very tired from over 20 hours of travel and after walking for 30min we started to wonder if we had made a wrong turn. We stopped a motorcycle and inquired about directions and distance. 5Km was beyond our tired bodies and minds so we headed back for a cold beer.

Refreshing as it was the sound of Venezuelan men slamming dominoes on the table somewhat disrupted the view and the serenity. Mind kept drifting back to the chocolate. I could wait no longer so we grabbed our beers and jumped one bus.

If Chuao really did have 2, 500 people then there was not one to be seen on the sleepy dusty streets. The chocolate trail was definitely getting hotter as we saw signs saying se vende cocoa (we sell cocoa - the shop was closed), a 200 year old cocoa bean sorting machine, and the smell of fermenting cocoa filled our nostrils. We finally did find an open shop and to see cocoa beans and chocolate bars on the counter filled me with joy. We grabbed a couple of bars and were told that if we came back tomorrow we could have a demonstration. He pointed us in the way of lunch.

Here we encountered Edi the specialist chocolate chef of Chuao. Her family have been working with cocoa for over 400 years. I asked about life on the cocoa plantation and she told me that the work was hard but the workers were happy. It is owned by a Venezuelan co-operative and now 90% of the chocolate is sold to the Italian chocolate company. It used to go to Valrona the french chocolate pioneers of single origin chocolate bars but the Italians were prepared to pay almost twice as much. Chuao is renowned in the world of fine chocolate and they have a phrase there that encapsulates this “Chuao donde hermina el mejor cocoa del mundo” which means that Chuoa is where the best cocoa in the world was born. The hot chocolate we were served definitely reflected this as it rich and deeps flavours were certainly some of the best I have ever encountered. She also served us a chocolate pancake covered in salty cheese. The sound and the initial taste was bizarre but the more I ate the more sense it made. It was reminiscent of the Asian flavours created but adding sugar and salt.

 We also met Chi Chi here who became our unofficial tour guide for the next three days. He met us every morning without asking for payment and took me to meet all of Chuao's 6 artisans and showed us the other highlights. The best of who and kindest by far was Al (the guy below with the white cloth wrapped around his head). Not only was he the only artisan to have a dark chocolate for sale he was so open and generous it was incredible. He showed me how he prepared the chocolate and taught me one of the chocolate makers greatest principles; Because chocolate is a thing of love, you must make with love, and listen to the music of love whilst making it. Brilliant. He then when on to inform me about more practical theory and cleanliness and temperatures. He let me make chocolate with him and even gave me a traditional recipe. A great and kind man who made our Chuao experience much more rewarding.

He also introduced us to the great Italian couple. Natalino is some what of an anomaly as an Italian that can not eat cheese and loves fishing but not eating fish. He stores all kinds of incredible fish (including the biggest red snapper I have ever seen) until he has 100kg and then he sells it in the local town. We upgraded our room to one with a much nicer bed, a spectacular view of the sea, great Italian home cooked food for less than we were paying before.


We cracked open the Argentinian Malbec right there and so began a night filled with laughter, 80's power ballads, cheese and cracker, papa duro (a lime segment half covered in sugar and half in coffee with a rum chaser), laughter, much merriment and a king fish feast just before bed which was a lot better than a kebab.

The next few days were spent walking through the cocoa forest gorging on the fruit, swimming in the river, learning and eating as much chocolate as possible, and marvelling at the huge circles of cocoa on the church’s specially built piso secando (drying floor).

Chuao really is Wow.

Joseph Davies 28/10/10