I am writing this from one of the hammocks swinging on the veranda of our floating lodge hut, looking out over the Amazon river. The not-so distant sounds of arapaima splashing out of the water and the belching roar of a gang of howler monkeys somewhere not too far off the shore. It's our second full day here, and we have just returned from our morning trek through the jungle. Highlights include a tiny TINY frog, many tree creeper birds, a mass of black and white stripes caterpillars and about 10 huge caimen - the biggest we have seen so far - just in the shallows by where we got back into the canoe. Oh yes, also visiting the hut, high on stilts in the tree campy where George and I will be staying the night. This is not something offered to everyone, but only if you are staying a full week do you get the option. I am incredibly excited and more than a little nervous. You have to climb a steep, rickety staircase/ladder to get to it, and once up there it is simply mosquito net stretched over framework to create a space about 5 meters squared and 3 meters high. One layer of floorboards under your feet, two hammocks strung from the beams and a candle with some matches. It's going to be incredible.

The Uacari lodge in general is an amazing place. It sits on a stretch of the Solimoes River, which is a 'white' section of the river. This normally means that the water looks milky white in colour, as it comes from the ice melt off the mountains in Boliva and is therefore rich in nutrients, giving the water it's colour and rich biodiversity. The water here doesn't actually look that light, but we are told that this is because the sediment has sunk to the bottom and in terms of PH and chemistry, it is 'white'. The alternative, the river Negro, is black and originates inside the forest. The rotting leaves make the water acidic and for this reason there is far less wildlife in the areas around the black river sections. The lodge was created to try and save this area of the national reserve from distraction by overfishing, deforestation, pollution, hunting etc. It has helped to set up regulations on fishing and provides other ways for the local communities to earn money other than hunting and selling of wood etc. So money from visitors like us hoes straight back into the conservation and into the hands of the local people. Other than the two biologists - our English speaking guides, all other staff here are indigenous, local people, born in this area. They are experts at spotting wildlife (the tiny leaf coloured frog half hidden in a pile of frog coloured leaves being an example), incredibly friendly, smiley and helpful. They work on month long rotas, meaning more people can be employed, but also so that they spend a good amount of time still in their original way of life.

George and I have the room at the end of the line of huts, meaning there is an added sense of peace and connection to the environment we are in. The room is far better than I for one expected! Four poster bed with mosquito net surround, bathroom with hot water shower and netted windows all around, looking out at the river. You feel surrounded by the noises of this place, and yet safe from biting bugs and wandering caiman! Though we are taking our anti-malarial tablets and covering ourselves in deet, we are told that happily, the mosquitos here carry neither malaria, yellow fever nor dengue fever. So, you know, that's nice. Far more threat from the likes of the bat that SOMEHOW got into our room last night. A room that is capable of keeping out tiny bugs. Magic bat. I was woken at about 5 am  (not too awful as we are up every day at 6) by loud fluttering, flapping noises. I lay there for a good while trying to figure out if it was as close as it sounded or actually just outside the window. There is so much animal noise here, especially at night, that it was hard to tell. And then I heard flutter flutter -CLUNK- as whatever it was flew into one of the posts of our bed. Immediately I started to think maybe somehow it was INSIDE our bed netting, so, obviously, woke George up. With the a head torch, we peered nervously around the inside of our - we had assumed - safe little cube. Just as we had confirmed that there was nothing inside the bed, and as George was opening his mouth to say I was imagining it, SPLAT! It landed on the outside of the curtain again, just above George's head. We could faintly see it's dark shadow and then the indentations in the fabric and it hooked it's self upwards. George, being ever the hero, persuaded me to climb out of our safe haven and open the door to the veranda so that it had somewhere to escape to, never mind what else might be waiting for me on the other side! It didn't work. We just let bugs in. And in the end we headed out on our morning trek with the little guy tucked up in the corner! He is gone now and I suspect one of the staff has quietly moved him along. Lunch is soon and it has to be mentioned that the food has been wonderful! The rice and beans that I expected, but also freshly caught fish and a jungle type chicken (which is the closest bird alive to the dinosaurs), stuffed tomato-like vegetables, potato fritters, fresh fruit from the jungle too! Though I discovered in Rio, when I was super excited that there was papaya and guava on the breakfast buffet, that they taste of nothing and weird, respectively. George really does NOT like the juice they serve with dinner though. I can see why, though I quite enjoy it. The fruit is sour, but not citrusy like a lemon, and has a strong melon-like aftertaste, with something earthy thrown in.

There is so much already to tell, but I don't have time to say everything! Rio was stunning and alive with party life, but this place is far more up my street. Even with the cockroach type beetle that tried to run up my leg to safety during my shower last night. That kind of thing is quickly cancelled out by our stunning evening boat trip, with the powerful torch beams bouncing off the water surface, or picking out a caimen resting on the bank, and the dancing lights of the fireflies in the pitch darkness when the boat lights were turned off. Or even the three hour long silent canoe trip, to people to a boat, with a native, spotting capuchin and squirrel monkeys in the trees. Or, even, visiting the local community of people living in a village of hits on stilts. This part of the forest is flooded half of the year and all footpaths become channels for canoes. It's a hard life for them as they cannot predict how high the water will come year to year. They can loose crops, animals and even have to move entire villages. Or, as they apparently did last year, build a second floor to their huts and move everything up. The local was telling us that they often have to build platforms in the trees and move their animals up there - cows, chickens and dogs. I was ecstatic to be met off the boat yesterday by a very friendly little dog. And even more so to discover, as we walked up the path, a clutch of round bellied, fluffy, dusty puppies, which the locals were very happy to let us all cuddle to our hearts' content. At this village we were also able to buy a few small handicrafts from the shop they have set up specifically for visitors from the lodge. Each item had the name of the person who had made it written on the price tag, which was then noted in a book by the lady who took the money, so it was apparent that the money was going straight into their hands, which is so much better than buying tourist tat from street venders!

Anyway, that is a lot of writing for this heat and humidity, so I will say love from both of us too all, and an apology that any photos we do put up with not be our best or most varied, as they will be whatever we have thought to take on our phones - the charging port on George's laptop has broken so all our beautiful snaps on the posh cameras will have to stay on the SD cards until we are home! 

Love!

E and G

Xxx