It's the coolest temperature I have been all week. But that's because we are zooming down the river at 60 miles an hour in an open sided boat. It is a welcome relief from the constant close, sticky environs we have become used to. But the blast of air through us, which clears away the clammy, insect repellant greasiness, also marks the end of our time staying on the Amazon. We are on our way back to Tefe.
(DISCLAIMER - All fishing related bragging rights are reserved for the person writing the blog, Aka Ellen. All boasting of ability and mocking of other's luck should be taken totally at face value and as unquestionably and undoubtably true)
The Lodge has been all that we hoped for and more. Since we last posted, for example, George and I went Piranha fishing. Our guide, Biji, paddled us up the river and moored us in a patch of reeds, where about 6 large spiders decided it was the perfect opportunity to come on board. Biji handed us simple sticks with hook and line. Almost as soon as my bait touched the water, I hooked a large red bellied piranha, which snapped it's formidable jaws and flexed it's muscled body in Biji's hands and he held it still so that we could look at it. Casually he pulls a length of thick reed/cane from beside the boat and offers it to the disgruntled fish, who proceeds to happily snap it's way through the fibrous tissue. George and I are suddenly much more conscious of how tender the flesh of our hands are. Biji un-hooks the fish and after asking 'come?' (Pronounced 'Coh-meh') - do we want to keep and eat the guy (we answer no, thank you), he releases it gently back into the water. But after that initial success, George and I prove ourselves to be expert Piranha feeders. Every baited hook that goes in comes out seconds later, empty. There is definitely a knack to this, we think, as we watch Biji hook whopper after whopper. 'He seems to jerk the rod out of the water the same second he feels a bite' says George, who proceeds to try and emulate him. In the next half an hour George catches two adorably small piranha. But also, and more interestingly, two small fish which our guide tells us are called Tambicu. Only about 10cm long, but with tiny little sharp teeth, two spines running the muscle of it's fins and one 'do not mess with me' spine out of it's back. George tentatively hands over this dangerous looking fish for Biji to safely unhook. Biji, however, sacrifices the little dude for bait, as George and I have depleted the stocks somewhat. A couple of little piranha later and Biji decides to move us on down the bank a little. At this point the big spiders get a little too close to me, and despite having resolutely put up with them up until that point, I can't help but squeal a little and profess to our guide that I do not like the 8 legged beasties. So he humours me and gathers them up, tossing them out onto the bank, leaving me hoping for a snake or rat or something to appear, or any opportunity to prove that I am not a total loser. Where we stop next there is at first no apparent fish activity, until we are shown that the bigger fish are deeper, so you have to drop the tip of your rod down right to touch the surface of the water. And when that doesn't work, hitting the water with your rod to simulate an injured fish gets the piranhas' attention. And suddenly I am an expert, and hook one, two, three great big red bellies. I decide to try and unhook them myself, and quickly learn that a firm grip is the only way to deal with them, as they are STRONG and slimy to the touch. And also bitey. Very very bitey. When I finally get the hook out, I am stopped from removing it by the fish, who bites down and will not let go. A bit of tug of war later and I get it free. Getting increasingly unsure of my grip on the scaley body, I end up throwing the poor thing into the river, releasing it alive and well, but with far less ceremony than Biji's gentle lowering into the water. George had started to look embarrassed by the bitty little fish he had been pulling out, one of which slipped under the foot boards of the canoe and flopped about pathetically until our guide rescued it. Just as I was about to proclaim my obvious poise and prowess as a fisherman, I manage to drop two fairly large fish in a row, off the hook and into the bowl of the boat. The first of which landed at the feet of Biji, who, wearing flip flops, was made to dance on the spot to avoid loosing a toe. Many Obrigadas from me and luckily he was laughing! George mocked me and said that though he was hooking less than me, at least he hadn't endangered anyone. George also then caught a couple of very large ones, including a white-bellied piranha, and we were pretty equal in numbers. All competition was put to an end, however, when I caught a fish so big I struggled to get it out of the water. Thick muscled and about 25cm long, we later read that this is the biggest they grow to! With that, we headed back to the lodge for lunch, considering ourselves very successful.
A quick mention has to go here for the food at the Lodge. All of it fresh and delicious, cooked by two local brothers, whose mother was the cook before them. Highlights include freshly caught fish twice a day, rice balls, chicken stroganoff, vegetable pancakes and oh my god, so many desserts, all made with copious amounts of condensed milk. Brazil has stollen (ha! Unintentional cake pun!) my pudding heart. I will be making so many brigadera when I am home. Little condensed-milk/based fudge balls. NOM.
Other highlights of our last few days have to include the enormous thunderstorm one night. It has rained and thundered a little earlier that day and we had enjoyed lying, slightly uncomfortably, in one hammock as the wind whipped us and the skies churned. Until a load of biting ants decided to escape the rain into the hammock with us and our bare vulnerable legs! But the storm that night was unbelievable. I was woken by the shutters on our netted windows being blown open by a tremendous, Hollywood style gust of wind. At first I was sure a caiman had burst into the room. But then the lightning lit up the space and I realised it was a storm. And not just one flash of lightning, but so many and so frequent it was like a strobe being hit again and again. I have never been scared by storms, but the thunder crack when it hit was like nothing I have ever experienced - so loud and close and long that it had we clinging to George like a small frightened animal! It was one of the most dramatic and atmospheric experiences of my life to lie there, floating in a hut on the Amazon river, while the gale blew the mosquito netting on the four-poster bed around me and the silhouette of the jungle across the river was thrown into relief over and over again by the sheet lightning. The rain a deafening roar overhead and on the surface of the water outside, and the thunder so powerful it shook your ribs. Incredible.
Less dramatic, but still exciting was spying a sloth! Our last trek and we had told Biji we would like to see one. Over three hours of careful creeping through the sauna of the forest, at one point both of us going knee-deep into the mud caused by the storm the night before. On our quest we managed to be surrounded by a gang of red faced Uacari monkeys and spot a tiny but very loud hummingbird. Just as we were nearing the bank and the return to our boat, Biji suddenly stops and pumps both fists into the air. Sloth! Looking at first just like a greasy, shaggy ball, he slowly uncurls and we spot first one long clawed foot, then, deep in shadow, his strange E.T- like face on the oddly long neck. Such a strange, fascinating animal.
Our night canoe trips and treks through the jungle are also something I will remember forever. The beams of the high power torches skimming and reflecting off the river surface and the red gleam of caiman eyes, sometimes far on the opposite bank, sometimes alarmingly close as our boat whips by. The eerie feeling of following the guides down the trodden paths, surrounded by deep, layered darkness on either side, into which my puny head torch cannot penetrate. The image of Jaguars lurking, stalking, creeping into our minds. But also the discovery of pale and lovely creatures that we didn't see in daylight. A huge moth drinking tree sap, a little white tree frog, a blind, huge snail and many, many spiders...
The night George and I stayed in the jungle hut was blessedly uninterrupted by visiting Jaguars. But it was LOUD. The amount of noise at night is far far more than during the day. Especially of note was one particular monkey with a very impressive set of lungs which sat in a nearby tree and called all. night. long. It was beautiful though, with the moon shining through the trees and in to our shell of netting. A small framework clad in mosquito net, atop a platform, reached by a rickety set of wooden steps, it felt wonderfully isolated and secluded. Wonderful that is, until you have to creep down those steps with a torch between your teeth, to go for a very hurried wee in the underbrush. Staying there the night was an amazing thing to have done, but also uncomfortable. There is a definite skill to sleeping in a hammock and it is one that I have not quite mastered. The trick apparently is to lie diagonally so that your back can be straight, and not bent like a banana!
Our last evening in the lodge was spent with George teaching the old 'balance the cutlery and toothpick on the glass' routine to the small group of us left (us, our guide Jessica, a Brazilian tax man whose name I repeatedly missed and Vanessa, a brazillian fashion designer). And also teaching Jessica to play Texas hold 'em poker using a mysterious bowl of already bunt matches from the kitchen, whilst simultaneously watching the cute little lizards run up and down the netting windows, catching bugs for us.
After a mid-river boat swap when our engine failed and a drop of and stumbled Portuguese/English conversation, we are now in a small hostel in Tefe. It is basic, but clean and with stunning views of the river-side from both the floor to ceiling windows in our room and the concrete but pleasant rooftop terrace upstairs. We are spending a short time enjoying the air-con before venturing out to buy ourselves boat tickets for tomorrow morning. We will leave at 6am and travel 14 hours by boat to Manaus. That should be an experience. From our viewpoint Tefe looks - there is a vulture on the palm tree outside our window. Sorry. Distracted - Tefe looks ramshackle and poor, but not in a depressing way. There is a cheerful, proud hustle and bustle to the place, which lends charm to the tin roofed huts and barefoot children playing in the debris-strewn shore. As George puts it, it doesn't look like a place that has become run down, but more like somewhere that has never been built up - never been better than it is now. From the window I can see kids playing football in the dusty sand (this is Brazil after all) and flying small, simple kites up to the height of the buildings. A large industrial boat, but also small fishing canoes and hammock boats. And in the background, the horizon-filling rainforest, stretching along the far coast in both directions beyond the curve of the headland. The sound of monkeys, gurgling caiman and belly-flopping arapaima have been replaced by the thrum of boat motors, half-heard Brazilian radio, the calls of people selling their wares and somewhere, a mallet hitting something metal.
Tefe update: Pleasingly, I have learnt and said the Portuguese for screwdriver. As a result, I am attempting to fix George's laptop.
We are going to meet Jessica, our guide from the lodge for dinner as it her day off. Lovely to be seeing her outside of her work, and useful too, to help us choose somewhere to eat. We have discovered Tefe to be grubby. A trip through the market showed us stalls and stalls of brightly coloured skimpy outfits for sale and hundreds of flip flips. Also a tunnel of doom through the centre - a white tiled, dome ceilinged corridor lined with stalls selling fresh fish (OK) and piles of in-refrigerated, in-covered meat. In 35 degree heat. With flies landing all over them. And heaps of offal and tripe. Yes. We are glad Jessica will be picking the restraint!
It's been a whirlwind of a visit to this small Amazon town, which has included annoying but not actually damaging bank troubles and the discovery that Brazillian towns have SO MANY CHEMISTS AND DRUG STORES. Seriously, about 4 per street. We struggled to find food and water but we could have had more shampoo than one could use in a lifetime. Tefe is not somewhere I would want to stay any longer, but we are both glad to have stopped here for a day. It gives more context to our journey than airport to airport. And this, along with our boat trip tomorrow, feels more like proper backpacking than anything else so far. Not glamorous, but with more details. Tomorrow to Manaus for a couple of days, then on to Igazu!
Much love to all
E and G
Xxx
(P.s. Yeah I totally fixed George's laptop. With my new 'Chave de fenda' set. Whoop!)
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