July 1999- My trip to the Amazon was not as spectacular as visiting Canaima and Angel Falls, but it was far more remote. I feel that this factor was both a blessing and a curse. While our group was far off the normal tourist track, much of the five-day trip was spent en route to and from our destination. I left on a Saturday morning from Caracas for Puerto Ordaz with Tom, Jo, Britt, Michelle, and Rebecca. Three Americans and three Belgians, three boys and three girls. Britt had suggested that we take Lariam for two weeks prior to our trip in order to keep the malaria outbreaks to a minimum, but I had trouble located the drug. I am happy to report that no outbreaks of malaria occurred on this trip despite our recklessness. At the Puerto Ordaz airport we were met by Julio, who was transporting us to our destination. From the airport we drove southeast for three hours. We stopped for lunch at a dingy roadside diner. I ordered the chicken, but once seeing the boiled mess I was presented my appetite faded so I just sat in the warm, humid air and took in the surroundings. Britt mentioned that the landscape reminded her of the Congo, and I could see the resemblance to Africa. The rolling hills were lush green and spotted with strange rock formations and small clusters of trees. From our lunch stop we had another two hours along a dirt road to the village of Jabillal at the edge of the Rio Caura. There were banana plantations along the road and a small Indian village. I found the mix of traditional Indian culture and modern conveniences quite awkward and a bit disturbing. From the village we took a boat for twenty minutes up the river and stayed on an island in the camp of Yokore the first night. The boat that was to be our primary transportation for the trip was a curiara. It was made from a hallowed out tree trunk and was about 4 meters long with an outboard motor on the back to propel the boat upstream. The only people who lived in the camp were Philippe (our guide), the Indian who piloted our boat, a woman who prepared the food, and a young girl whom I believe was the daughter of the cook. We spent the first evening just relaxing and enjoying the wildlife on the island. Philippe had created a mini-sanctuary with two parrots, a rodent that looked like a big hamster (lapa), a couple of tarantulas, a small cayman, and some deadly centipede-like creature. Philippe also told us about the "twenty four hour ant", which allegedly leaves its victims in excruciating pain for 24 hours following its bite. We headed his words and carefully set out for the rocky shore of the island to take in the view. The sunset that evening was incredible, something that would be repeated each night of our adventure.

We slept in hammocks with mosquito nets and awoke in the morning to the sounds of howler monkeys in the distance. After breakfast on the island our group headed farther up the Caura River. I was completely prepared for the worst (with regard to the climate) and had ziplocked everything in addition to bringing rain gear. Despite this (or perhaps because of) the weather turned out to be fantastic for the whole trip. It rained a couple of times in the middle of the night, however that was all. The beautiful weather made relaxing in the boat an enjoyable endeavor. Most of the time on the river I just spent staring at the magnificent clouds. I can't completely explain how the sky appeared, but I have never seen such beautiful clouds before. On the second afternoon we stopped in the Ye'kuana Indian village of La Poncha where the kids ran around naked and everyone spoke their native dialect (in other words not Spanish). It was at this point that you could tell that we were off the normal tourist route. The tribe was not completely oblivious to outsiders however, as they were selling handmade jewelry, baskets, and ceremonial weapons, in addition to live turtles. Apparently whatever turtles they don't sell that day end up as dinner. I had brought along some pens, pencils, and candy to use for bartering but I didn't have the heart for it. I ended up paying in Bolivars for the items I purchased and just giving the things I had brought to the kids in the village. As a result the others jokingly coined me "the patron saint of the Ye'kuana". As the day progressed we went farther up the river to La Fortuna, a larger settlement of the same tribe. It was here that we ate lunch. Pictures of the village and its residents were kept to a minimum in order to respected the local customs.

After travelling up river further still, we stayed the night in a village called El Playon at the mouth of the Rio Caura. Just above this village the water is rushing down over rocks from two different sources. We swam at a small beach in front of the village and luckily did not encounter any piranhas or stingrays, which are said to be worse than the piranhas in this area. The watercolor is brownish from the sediment of the river, so you never really know what is swimming around you. Tom mixed the drinks later that night and was making them very strong (Note: Never trust a bartender who won't drink what he makes for others). After tying on a few too many Britt agreed to go silent from sun up to sun down the next day, a feat we all knew she could not accomplish. She just likes talking way too much. The deal was if Britt went all day without talking we would all chip in to buy her the basket of her choice. If she spoke one word before sundown though she would have to put Philippe's tarantula on her arm for photo opportunities when we returned to the base camp.

Monday we went on a hike to Salta Para, which consists of approximately half a dozen waterfalls that are each 50 meters high. It was a grueling hike through the humid rainforest and I was concerned about Michelle and Britt getting dehydrated after all the alcohol they had drunk the night before. Britt ended up making it two hours before talking, longer than I expected but nowhere near the entire day (Much to Tom's remorse, she was not forced to hold up her end of the deal and hold the tarantula). During the hike I witness several exotic bugs but no other animals save for some small frogs. The falls were spectacular! They weren't anywhere near as tall as Angel Falls, but all of these waterfalls streaming off of a long, crescent-shaped cliff made for a spectacular sight. We took some pictures here and ate lunch at an abandoned research facility. Most of us took a nap on a picnic table and awoke to find some sort of grub lurching towards us. Apparently Philippe's idea of humor and the locals' idea of a delicacy. After returning to the village in the afternoon we all went swimming to wash off the day's sweat and just relaxed for the evening. It was pretty easy to forget all the worries of the world in the El Playon. The local activities seemed to center around the construction of a new hut. The women collected leaves to be used for the roof and the men constructed the structure. The weaving of the leaves was quite intricate and impressive. At one point during the evening while Rebecca was in the "bathroom", Jo stuck his camera through the door and took a picture. Rebecca completely freaked out, storming out of the bathroom after Jo and snatching away the camera. She removed the roll of film was bound for destruction when Jo convinced her to get the pictures developed herself and just destroy the photo in question instead of ruining all of his pictures from the day.

Tuesday we went back down the river and did some hiking on our way to the base camp at Yokore. We went to the top of a mountain to overlook the rainforest and rivers. The uninterrupted expanse of vegetation seen from the mountaintop was breathtaking. At one point along the hike I encountered a snake. It was a boa constrictor about two feet long. Early in the trip we were all a bit timid about touching anything because all the vines look like venomous reptiles. By the third day though we fancied ourselves true jungle explorers. I was third or fourth in line walking along the trail and when I looked down between the leaves of a palm branch below me I saw the head of the boa. I immediately yelled "snake" and everyone came to a stop. Philippe started asking me what color it was and what is was doing as he approached. Michelle was behind me and wasn't going a step further, despite Jo's insistence that everything was fine. The snake ended up being harmless though and Philippe caught it and took it back to the camp to live with the other animals. After our hike we took the boat the rest of the way down to the base camp on the island and had dinner. After nightfall we embarked on a search for caymans. Unfortunately due to the high water none were found, however we did see several tarantulas and other big spiders, as well as a possum. The area we hiked in was crawling with ants and Rebecca threw a mild fit when she claimed to be "covered" with ants. This amounted to one dozen or so ants crawling on her pants.

Wednesday we slept in and then started our long journey home. It was terribly hot in the back of the Land Cruiser, but we made it to Puerto Ordaz without incident. Our lunch stop was interesting though, in-between mouthfuls of pasta and ketchup Britt claimed she was eating "the best spaghetti I have ever tasted". I disagreed but at least we were getting back towards the civilization of Caracas and a comfortable bed. (Note: This trip was taken during the high water level of the rainy season. Tom returned months later in the dry season to find an entirely different landscape and a larger variety of wildlife. Take this into consideration if you are planning a trip to the Amazon.)

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