I don't think that Tefe or Manaus as cities are going to be especial highlights of our trip. I think we are both glad that we visited them, and pleasant things happened while we were in both places. But neither of us felt particularly relaxed or welcome as we passed through. Tefe especially was very dirty. A lot of smells assaulting you from every corner, litter an accepted and ignored presence everywhere. Stray dogs looking sad, scabby and dusty. But our meal with Jessica and Lucas from the lodge was wonderful, and the town came alive at night, with stalls on the river-side square selling ice cream and snacks. We were happy to leave in the end though. And that meant getting up at 4:30 am to catch a 12 hour boat to Manaus. We were both expecting it to be an 'experience' - uncomfortable, long and possibly a little scary. What it was instead was incredibly pleasant. With views of the rainforest and Amazon river on both sides and incredibly comfy seats, the hours flew by. I was particularly pleased with the free coffee on board, even if it was saturated with sugar as standard.
Twelve hours and much knitting on pencils, reading on kindle, napping and confused watching of Portuguese-dubbed Hollywood B-movies, the port of Manaus loomed out of the rainforest. This stretch of river is characterised by a massive industrial dock, stacked high with shipping containers and with crane topped loading pontoons sticking out into the river. This gives way to a conglomeration of boats in every style, shape, colour and use. It being the dry season, all are moored at the base of a sheer cement-covered cliff, with large metal staircases rigged from the floating docks below up to the river edge of the city above. Everything is built to float, so in the wet season the docks rise to near the edge. After the tranquility (if you ignore the throbbing of the engine) of our boat ride, we emerged dazed and blinking and instantly wary. What with the men standing by offering to collect and carry your bags up the steps for you, and the crowds of drivers once you reach the top, all barking "Taxi? Taxi!" at us, like a crowd of hungry seagulls, we felt vulnerable to con men and thieves. Weather or not this initial impression is fair to Manaus, it is hard to tell, as during our couple of days there we discovered very pleasant and safe feeling pockets of the city, as well as moments of uncertainty. That said, the docks area has a reputation of being dodgy, especially in the evenings, much like any poor industrial city. Our hotel was clean and the staff helpful, though our room had no natural light, which made me feel a little claustrophobic. Since then we have stayed in hostels rather than hotels and for less money the atmosphere and their ability to help the humble backpacker has been better by far.
That evening we were relieved to find that we were staying just one road away from the theatre and main square. As the guidebook foretold, this area of Manaus is noticeably western and colonial in style, with arched windows and pillars everywhere. The square was lined with trees and nicely lit. We had a very pleasant meal sitting outside, the pitiful meowing of stray cats and the occasional street performer or vendor paying a visit.
Daylight does Manaus a lot of favours. Stepping out into the sweltering combination of still, dusty city air and the heat and humidity of still being IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RAINFOREST, we were immediately sweaty but pleased to find that streets, which at night were littered and seemingly unwelcoming, had been swept clear and were now seen to be wide, bright and busy. We were setting out early, in hopes of getting a boat to see the meeting of the waters - where the Solimoes river and the River Negro meet and do not mix for 16km, due to change in chemistry and temperature, causing a very obvious line of colour change. We had managed to miss this spectacle on our boat ride the day before and were determined not to leave Manaus before seeing it. Our hotel receptionist called a "boy she knows", who, when he arrived, turned out to be a likely lad of at least 40, wearing baggy shorts, gold chain and baseball cap. He proceeded to lead us at a hell of a pace through the streets, on his phone the whole time, with George and I panting to keep up, at one point unwittingly following him as he walked straight down the centre of the road in two-way traffic. We had enough time however to notice that whereas Tefe was stuffed full of pharmacies, Manaus on the other hand has shoe shop upon shoe shop. Every other shop you pass is a shoe shop. Selling the same shoes as the shoe shop before it and the shoe shop after it. We arrived back at the domestic dock at which we had disembarked the evening before. Also waiting for the boat trip were two young German guys, one of which was half brazillian and fluent in Portuguese. Thank the heavens, because I don't know how we would have felt about the trip that was to come if we hadn't had a translator with us. Firstly there was some confusion about the price and who exactly we were to give the money to - it seemed at one point as if we might be made to pay the wrong guy and then have to pay again, and something about lunch being included if you pay 100 Real more... but we managed to frown and shake our heads through this, then we were away. We introduced ourselves to the guys and chatted a little about travels as we sped out to the meeting point, which when we arrived, was bizarre and awesome. The colour change is incredibly defined and, dipping our hands in the water as we crossed the change, we could even feel the temperature change. We stayed there for ten minutes or so, and then the driver sped off. We were unsure exactly where else we were meant to be going, as all we asked for was the meeting of the waters, but we had been given some vague idea of animals from a flip book of photos the 'boy' had shown us. We motored through a local floating community, which appeared at first to be simple and rustic, until you notice the sky TV dishes on the outside of every hut. Back out on to the main river and the next stop is a floating veranda of decking with a shelter at one end. We are ushered off the boat, and are met by three men, two of which hold an enormous anaconda between them and the other, a small sloth. Before we have time to adjust to what we are looking at, someone puts a sloth on me. The experience is not initially pleasant. I am surprised, not just by the unexpected nature of said sloth cuddle, but also by the slightly damp, greasy feel of the body which is pressing it's self to my front like a needy toddler. Next comes the pain. The sloth has long, curved claws and one hell of a strong grip - the better for staying in trees - and this grip is wrapping around the back of my neck and into the soft flesh on the back of my upper arm. The pictures of this moment are as hilarious as they are unflattering. Someone please remove the sloth. Please remove the sloth. Ow. Please move the sloth. The sloth does his rounds and on his return to me I am prepared. I position his claws in the most comfortable position I can, and cradle his body using the least unpleasant feeling bit of him. And after a bit, I get used to it. I can feel his little puffing breaths and the slow thump of his heart through my tummy and his sleepy, seemingly smiling face blinks gently up at me. I start to take in where we are and hope that the little guy has a happy life. Marcella, our Portuguese speaking German friend is told by the boat driver that these animals are found in the nearby stretch of jungle by the men here, who keep them for a week or so, then release them back into the jungle and wait for other animals to wander by. None of us are very convinced by this claim. We are told to tip the men a few real and are shipped back in to the boat. I ride away feeling like I wanted to wash my hands, and also like I have unwittingly and involuntarily paid into the mistreatment of animals and have no way of making it better.
Our next stop is a collection of huts, which we are lead through and to a steep wooden bridge up over the muddy bank, leading to a raised walkway through the trees. Our guide stomps off up this bridge, followed by the Germans, followed by us, shrugging at each other and looking around with bemused intrigue. The walk through the trees is short but very pleasant, and has much more of the traditional jungle feel to it than the wild solitude of the flooded forest around the lodge. It feels strangely commercial in comparison. Which is ridiculous of course, as it's all natural and as wild as you can get. The walkway opens out on to a roofed platform, overlooking a still inlet pool from the river and a clutch of the giant lily pads for which, we are told, Manaus is famous. All very scenic but god it's hot. We are lead back to the collection of huts and buffet lunch and there is a fair bit of confusion. Apparently the Germans have lunch included but we do not, despite having paid more for the tour than they have. The guide eventually caves and we have a "free" passable lunch. Then the Germans end up having to pay again, bringing their total to more than ours and it's all very confusing, even for the one of us speaking Portuguese. On the way back we agree to stick with the guys to share taxi costs etc. This is fine by us, as Marcello has proved invaluable, at least in terms of putting us at ease with an ability to communicate, even if he was just as unable to figure out what the hell was going on as we were. We split up to look around the market - a collection of stalls stuffed to bursting with tourist fodder. There is also a fresh food and medicine section, where one could buy all kinds of herbal remedies and big bags full of tiny chilli peppers or net bags of small speckled eggs. All under an ornate metal frame structure. I can't help it, I buy a key ring, because I am a tourist and unashamed. It's not like either of us could ever pass for locals. Me with my bleached hair and SLR camera around my neck and George in full hiking gear and crag-hoppers hat. Not to mention our matching Osprey day backpacks.
We had been recommended an animal research park a bit out of town by Jessica and the guys were interested too, so we shared a taxi over to the Bosque de la sciencia. Please forgive the spelling. It is not quite a zoo, mainly consisting of jungle forest park-land inhabited with free roaming squirrel monkeys and capybara, with pleasant meandering paths. However, there were three pools in one section, containing manatees. I have never seen a manatee in the flesh before. After watching them twirl their great bodies as they swam, lifting their giant seal-like snouts above the water to take a deep flared-nostriled breaths and finally, looking one in its tiny stoopid eyes and have it smoosh it's soft, whiskered nose against the glass, I fell in love. And proceeded to buy a little carved wooden manatee with googly eyes. Don't look at me like that. George is worse, he bought something far more ridiculous.
After taking the wrong, long way back to the exit, which entailed a long walk up hill in direct sunlight, we all headed back to the city in the taxi. It is the moment to note that no-one in Brazil can drive and as a consequence we arrived back in Manaus slightly queasy, and made our farewells. The next morning we had a further wander around the town and took a closer look at the theatre. It has a beautiful tiled dome on top and the exterior is attractive. Admittedly we did not get to see the auditorium (apart from a peak through the curtains which revealed Sonic being played via projection screen, which I am positive was s techie on break), but the foyer was less notable. To be fair to it, we have been spoilt with our experience of theatres. From Glyndebourne to the opera house in Oslo, Manaus theatre had a lot to live up to. We then headed to the airport, and on to Argentina!
Unfortunately for Brazil, we arrived with the idea that we would have to be on guard, and despite that feeling retreating at times, it is still the lasting impression I have taken with me. Especially once we arrived at Puerto Iguassu in Argentina, which was just lovely, and the Iguassu falls themselves, which was like nothing I have ever experienced before, and beat Noraway's waterfalls by a mile, sorry Norway! But that is for a different post, hopefully not too long away.
Much love to all!
E and G
Xxxxxxx
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