Communing with nature in the valley of the ancients

After two days of cooling our heels in Yurimaguas due to an anti-logging strike that closed down the whole town, we were very keen to get on our way to Ecuador. Not wanting to take a detour back to the coast to cross into Ecuador at the main border check-point, we decided to take the path less travelled via Jaén, San Ignacio and La Balsa. It turned out to be a great decision because, even though the trip was not necessarily faster, it was certainly extremely scenic and just a bit adventurous. Following our escape from Yuri in a packed mini-bus to Tarapoto (everyone wanted to get out and was NOT prepared to wait for the next bus, so it got very cosy..) we took a ‘real’ bus to Jaén, before changing into a series of small ‘carros’ (communal cars) in varying stages of (dis)repair (tire tread and working door-handles are not to be expected) to leapfrog from Jaén to San Ignacio,  then from there to La Balsa on the border. The decrepit old two-wheel drive carros churned their way along roads transformed into mires of clinging red mud, scraped through cavernous washouts and overtook heavily laden tip-trucks ponderously inching their way up the winding mountain roads. We were constantly amazed at the feats the drivers managed to pull off in ancient cars very obviously not built for off-road driving. Despite some slipping, sliding and wheel-spinning in the often seemingly bottomless mud, the drivers always managed to coax their old sedans through. We only had one very hairy incident on the way, and even that was averted by a skilled, quick thinking driver: We were sitting in our carro waiting at one of the numerous road blocks (the road is under constant ‘repair’ due to landslides etc) when all of a sudden we noticed a huge truck laden with crushed rock approaching from behind us very, very fast. Much too fast for a truck of that weight to be able to stop in time, especially given that he was racing downhill on a track slick with mud. It immediately became clear that the truck’s brakes had failed, and with roadworkers running and jumping to get out of the way, the quick thinking driver swerved around the line of waiting cars, crashed through the road block and plowed his runaway truck at full speed into a pile of soil next to the cliff, finally coming to a grinding halt a few meters from several other waiting trucks. It all happened so fast that it took everyone a while to work out what had happened. But when we did we realized that if it wasn’t for the truck-driver’s quick thinking, our carro (with us in it) would have ended up looking like a crumpled tin can, squashed from behind by the truck into the cliff in front. The driver, when he stumbled dazed but otherwise unhurt from his soil-covered cabin, received many hearty pats on the back! J  

Close call with a big truck - good on the driver for thinking and acting fast!

Lucky the pile of dirt was there to act as a brake!

Lovely little girls don't seem to mind that their main street is a construction site

Energised by this narrow escape, the rest of the drive flew by, and we soon arrived in the ‘thriving metropolis’ of La Balsa. The tiny little town is one of the most chilled border posts I have ever seen: Three or four houses, more chickens than human inhabitants, and border officials sitting around in their singlets, only moving to scratch themselves or swat at a particularly persistent insect. We managed to drag a Peruvian policeman away from his scratching long enough to get our exit papers stamped and then walked across the river to rouse his Ecuadorian counterpart from an extended afternoon siesta. After stamping our passports and welcoming us to Ecuador, he told us that the only bus to the next town wasn’t leaving for another three hours, but that we could buy beer at the little shop across the street J Liking Ecuador immediately, we followed his advice and bought a couple of ice-cold Pilsner from a jovial shop-keeper with an impressive handlebar moustache (a big change from the very hairless Peruvian’s we had become used to!).

We spent a very pleasant hour sitting on the porch of the little shop and watching the chickens forage for whatever chickens forage for in the middle of the road, sipping our beer and reminiscing about our 7 weeks in Perù. Then, very unexpectedly, a young man in a pickup truck leaned out of his window to offer us a ride to Zumba. After such a long time among the very reserved Peruvians, we were very pleasantly surprised to find that Ecuadorians are more than willing to give ‘gringos’ a lift! The four-wheel-drive ute mastered the rough and tumble ride to Zumba much faster than the bus would have, and the good Samaritan was even nice enough to drop us off at the only hotel in the picturesque little mountain town. Although quite old and less-than-pristine, it did offer balconied rooms with spectacular views of the surrounding lush hills for only 15 Euro. And so our first night on Ecuadorian soil was spent sipping a cool drink and watching the vibrant sunset from our private second storey balcony. We had the feeling we were going to like Ecuador a lot J

The sleepy little border crossing at La Balsa - more chickens than humans :)

The tiny little outpost town of Zumba

The view we were treated to on our first night in Ecuador - not bad hey? :) 

The next day when we arrived in the perfect little village of Vilcabamba, the feeling was only intensified. Nestled among rolling green hills topped with ochre-red cliffs, Vilca is a perfect mixture of colonial past and eco-hippy present. White-washed, red-roofed houses, a leafy main square and a healthy seasoning of alternative, environmentally minded ex-pats make it a perfect place to sit and watch the world go by. On top of this, the valley of Vilcabamba is renowned for its ancient inhabitants. For some reason (perhaps the water, perhaps the weather, perhaps the healthy lifestyle), people just refuse to die in Vilca! The whole valley is full of tottering old toothless ancients, most of whom have perpetual smiles on their faces. Many people say the place is just so peaceful, relaxed and friendly that no-one in their right mind would want to throw in the towel: If you have found paradise on earth, who wants to find out if the heavenly version exists? J

We found ourselves a little piece of this paradise – a wonderfully rustic adobe hut on the Rumi Wilco Eco-Reserve - a great concept implemented by two biologists from Argentina, Orlando and Alicia Falco. Many years ago, with money saved up from working as guides on the Galapagos Islands, they bought a little patch of jungle bushland on the banks of the Río Champa and settled down to have a family. After a few years, they began to become worried about the effects un-sustainable farming and land clearance were having on the area’s fragile eco-system, and came up with an innovate concept to do their little bit to help. They decided to declare their own hilly hectares a nature reserve, and after a lot of fast-talking, managed to convince several of their neighbours to add sections of their wooded land too. By providing eco-friendly, self contained huts, shade-grown coffee, home-made marmalade and granola to environmentally aware tourists, the Falco family pays for the protection and upkeep of the reserve, which includes several wonderful walking tails. Alicia even goes to the effort of hanging up hand-painted signs (made of recycled venetian blinds J ) throughout the reserve indicating the English, Latin and local names of more than 200 plant species! Not only did we find the concept great and the hosts extremely friendly, we also fell in love with our little hut on sight. After weeks of hostel-hopping, we were so happy to have a little patch of privacy all to ourselves. A mud-brick hut decorated with homely touches, an extremely comfy bed and best of all – a fully-equipped kitchen!!! J We revelled in being able to cook for ourselves again, and splurged on real coffee, yogurt, granola, fresh rolls, cheese and boiled eggs for breakfast, tapas and red wine, fresh salads, vegetables and meat dishes with rich sauces for dinner. We spent our days sleeping in, soaking up the peaceful atmosphere of the jungle around us, walking in the hills, sitting on the leafy main plaza, watching the slow pace of Vilcabamba life and trying to decide what to cook for dinner. To add to our enjoyment of the sleepy little town, we also managed to catch up with some good friends we have been bumping into since we first met them in southern Bolivia. In return for volunteer work at a small organic nursery, they had been given a small house to live in, a perfect little hideaway on the edge of the river, surrounded by lush jungle. We spent a lovely evening with them, sitting on their veranda, lulled by the sound of the stream, feeling the heartbeat of the jungle, getting to know the bugs (see below) and trying (once again!) to find solutions to the world’s problems. J As much as we need solitude at times, good company is also a must when travelling!

Río Champa running through the Rumi Wilco Eco-Reserve

Our little piece of paradise - our jungle hut

Interesting art in our little adobe hut

Our own kitchen!!! Oh joy of joys! :)

Fresh salad!!!!!! 

Tapas and wine evening for two in our little hideaway

Getting up close and personal with some of the wildlife in Vilca

Good morning to you too! 

 After a week of forgetting time in the valley of the ancients, we knew it was time to tear ourselves away from Vilca. But unable to bring ourselves to leave the area completely, we compromised by travelling only a few hours north to the equally sleepy (if not quite as pretty) town of Zamora. Here we were treated to more of the region’s spectacular biodiversity in the Podocarpus National Park. Wrapped in the prolific foliage of the montane rainforest, we explored countless winding paths leading along roaring rivers, to the feet of tumbling cascades and over the crests of cloud-shrouded hills. We might have gone a little overboard with photographs (see below J), but the multitude of amazing plant-life really blew us away – it is like walking through an endless botanic garden. Although we have been in Ecuador for almost two weeks and haven’t really progressed very far, we feel we have a good reason for having got ‘stuck’ in the south – there is something very special about this little patch of the Earth, something that makes it extremely hard to leave.....

Wonderfully colourful plant life...makes you go crazy with a camera

The temperate climate means that moss and fungi go wild

This fungus looks a little like ears to me...

And this one is like delicate flowers

Such a huge variety of plants wherever you look...

Enormous tree-ferns

Cascada Poderosa

Cascada La Chismosa

More wonderfully colourful plantlife - and a little fern unfurling

The view down the valley, with mist rising from the river..

Just beautiful....

Going with the flow on the Amazon

When our ever-friendly hosts at ‘The Backpackers’ in Chachapoyas rang to check the availability of seats on the bus to Yurimaguas for us, they told us with worried faces that the only free seats for the following morning were right at the back of the bus. We, not understanding their trepidation, said we didn’t mind in the least and would take the seats, happy that any were available at all. The next morning when we arrived at the bus terminal before sunrise, we understood the reason for their long faces – the seats at the back of the mini-bus were not only extremely hard and narrow (even short people like us didn’t even have space for our knees), they also didn’t have access to a window, and getting in or out involved asking at least 4 people to move. That would have been bearable, but add to that the fact that Peruvians seem even more afraid of a draft than Germans and thus refuse to open windows even if the 20+ people squashed inside the bus are melting in the stifling heat and almost choking on the resulting noxious cocktail of body odors, and things start getting pretty uncomfortable. If, on top of that, your driver seems to think he has to set a new land-speed record on an extremely winding road and there are a couple of people with weak stomachs in your bus who end up vomiting repeatedly into plastic bags (remember the windows are still closed), the bus ride pretty soon turns into the trip from hell. Oh, and did I mention this went on for over 12 hours? With only ONE toilet stop. Actually, on second thoughts, Hell is perhaps nicer than that :P

Squashed in the stinky, hot mini-bus to Yuri

Anyway, we arrived in the end, and we finally escaped from our tiny hell-hole to find ourselves in the tropics. Gone the cool, dry, clear air of the mountains; we now breathed in that unique tropical scent - warm, damp and laden with a mixture of fertility and rot. And as if to commemorate our arrival, Yurimaguas treated us to a good ol’ tropical downpour – the kind where the rain falls in rivers, not drops. Racing through the streets, our tuk-tuk (called moto-taxis here) barely made it to our hotel before the heavens opened. Hot and sticking to our own skins, we immediately decided to jump into the inviting hotel pool despite the rain – heaven J

After scrubbing the smell of the trip off and having a great night’s sleep listening to the incessant rain, we set off the next day to find a boat to take us to Iquitos. The harbor was an experience in itself – a mire of mud, rubbish and fetid water, full of moto-taxis, trucks, touts and shirtless men heaving seemingly impossibly heavy sacks around.  The cargo boats (lanchas) were lined up along the river bank, each with a chalkboard advertising their destination and departure dates and times (to be taken with a grain of salt, as we were soon to discover). After fighting off the advances of numerous touts, navigating our way around putrid puddles (last time I will ever wear flip-flops to a harbor!) and balancing over several narrow boarding ‘planks’, we finally found the captain of a lancha scheduled to leave for Iquitos that night. 

The harbor in Yuri - beware of the touts waiting to jump you!

Our trusty (and slightly rusty) ride to Iquitos

We secured a camarote (cabin) with a berth each for 150 soles (pretty good deal – a hammock space on deck costs 100pp) and headed back to our hotel to collect our luggage. The lancha was scheduled to leave at 18:00 that night, so we were back in plenty of time (around 15.00) to secure a good hammock space (as we had been advised to do) and wait for departure. And wait we did – and wait, and wait. The boat ended up leaving almost two days later J We have since worked out that this is common practice – the lanchas simply leave whenever the captain thinks there is enough cargo on board to justify the journey. It is actually not much of a problem, because you pay the same price no matter how long you are on the boat – so you essentially save on accommodation while you are waiting. The only down side is that the cooks refuse to serve meals until the boat has actually set sail, so it is essential to bring enough of your own food for the indeterminable time you will spend waiting to depart. And enough books and rum to keep you entertained. And maybe a nose-peg to help put up with the rancid smell of the harbor J

The 3 day ride down river to Iquitos was great – it rained almost every day, keeping the temperatures down and the air fresh, and the food on board was surprisingly good – rolls and a sort of thin porridge for breakfast, rice, cooked banana and meat for lunch and dinner. We were also surprised that the cost of the camarote includes delivery of your food to your door – so we sat waiting for our food like royalty while the rest of the passengers took their plates and bowls down to be filled in the mess. J The river was wide and fast-flowing, making for easy sailing (apparently in the dry season boats often get stuck as the water level drops). We spent our days hanging around in our hammocks, watching the endless green of the jungle slip by, and keeping an eye out for dolphins. There are so many of them in the water here – both the pink and grey kinds, and they seem to enjoy playing around the boat, often following us for more than an hour at a time. Our evenings were spent sharing rum and coke with our fellow passengers. Both decks of the huge lancha were packed full – mostly with local families, but there were also a few other ‘gringos’ on board and we met several interesting people from both camps. Our days and nights were livened up by a constant assortment of music being blasted out of radios, mobile phones and MP3 players from all corners of the boat – at any one time you could hear samba, salsa, reggae and rock and roll from different quarters. Although it was good fun during the day, ear-plugs were essential at night (unless you felt like partying at 2am). I would also not recommend the trip to anyone who has a problem with bugs J They roar in as soon as the sun sets, targeting any source of light they can find, flying and scrabbling and crawling over anything and anyone in their way (luckily not all of them bite) J. And spiders! Hundreds of them live in the life jackets which hang from the roofs, and they come out to set up shop as soon as the insects arrive –it is amazing how many bugs one tiny spider can liquefy in a night J 

Laoding the boat - it is amazing how many sacks these little guys can carry!

The baby brother of our lancha

The upper hammock deck - before it got too full

Sunset over the Yurimaguas harbor 

The attack of the bugs!

Spiders having a field day

All in all, the trip went smoothly – (apart from one hairy incident when the captain obviously misjudged the distance between his ship and a rather large tree, resulting in significant damage on both sides  - see below) and we arrived in Iquitos already lulled into the relaxed jungle attitude.  

Little river-side villages on the way to Iquitos

Boat vs. tree damage

Lovely sunsets on the water

Our cosy cabin

Dophins!

And relaxing is what Iquitos is good for - a super laid-back city full of roaring moto-taxis, flip-flop-wearing locals, good food, cold beer and a sprinkling of ‘interesting’ expats. J It is the perfect place to take some time out, and that is what we did – we spent a lovely few days sauntering along the promenade (a series of wonderful white-stone terraces reminiscent of the city’s rich rubber exporting past), sitting on breezy balconies sipping icy pisco sours and watching the Amazon River meander on by. The waterfront promenade is a wonderfully vibrant place, especially at night, when it is filled with a mixture of street performers, young families, drug dealers, ice-cream vendors, little kids selling popcorn and lollies and old ladies hawking handicrafts. We spent many evenings sitting on the verandah of the Arandú Bar, just watching the colorful goings-on and enjoying the (usually very warm) evening breeze and celebrating the final acceptance of one of the papers Mic co-authored (yay!).

Graceful terraces on the banks of the Amazon in Iquitos

Lovely promenade in Iquitos

The pretty church on Plaza de Armas in Iquitos

Girls dancing to the rhythm of drums and flutes

Snake-swallowing jungle dancers on the promenade in Iquitos - just one of the many evening entertainment programmes

The bustling nightlife on the promenade as viewed from Arandú, our favorite watering hole

When we were feeling more motivated, we spent some time exploring the Belèn markets – the most amazing, disgusting, mesmerizing and horrifying markets I have ever seen. As the Lonely Planet writes – if it ever moved or breathed, it’s for sale in Belén. You can find caiman, monkey, turtle, snake and many other un-identifiable jungle meats, dissected and ready for the pot. In addition to the gruesome carne section, the sprawling markets offer everything you could ever want or need, from hand-rolled cigarettes to prescription drugs, from freshly pressed jungle juices to new jeans, from a fried chicken lunch to a dried monkey paw on a chain or an armband made of ocelot fur. If you can put up with the smell, you can spend hours or even days delving into the dodgy depths of Belén, as we did, constantly alternating between fascination and revulsion.

Weird and wonderful (and many endangered) things for sale at the Belén markets

Witchcraft section of the markets, with all sorts of powders,  potions and dried animal parts for sale

A necklace made of a dried monkey paw by any chance?

Remember the cute little animal (pacarana) we liked so much on our hike to Machu Picchu?  This is what it looks like dead and gutted...

Turtles and their eggs, ready for the pot

Or perhaps you would prefer scarily human looking monkey limbs for dinner?

I know animals are animals, and we eat them all the time, but this is just a little too freaky for me...

Huge freshly-rolled cigarettes with jungle tobacco and printer paper

On a more picturesque note, one day we took a 30 minute (dusty, but fun) moto-taxi ride out to Lake Quistococha, a lovely little lake with a beautiful swimming beach, surrounded by lush jungle which harbours a surprisingly extensive zoo. We spent several hours exploring the enclosures scattered between the trees, spotting jaguars, caimans, tapirs, capybaras, anacondas, iguanas and numerous different types of birds and monkeys. We were even treated to several tricks performed by a pink dolphin at feeding time, and Mic had great fun photographing the endless trails of leaf-cutter ants which seemed set on carrying off half the rainforest.

Lovely lake Quistocoche

Cheeky parrot

Jaguarundi

Sleepy jaguar

Just hangin' around...

Finally got to see a (live) capybara 

A very cranky pregnant puma 

Mic's favorites - leaf-cutter ants going about their busy business

Clever pink dolphin doing tricks for its fish

Tiny, wobbly-kneed baby tapir

Apart from its relaxed atmosphere and its jungle delights, Iquitos is also famous for its still-present connection to ancient shamanic traditions and rituals – many people come to the city specifically for the purpose of being healed and/or reaching spiritual enlightenment with the help of ceremonies involving traditional jungle medicines. Although we were quite skeptical about trying any of these at first, after having talked to several people who had had good experiences with a particular shaman, we decided to pay him a visit – which turned out to be easier said than done. Finding him involved taking a moto-taxi to a small local harbor, fighting off extremely enthusiastic touts who seemed to think it imperative that we take a visit to a butterfly farm, then taking a 20-minute ride in a small wooden boat across flooded wetlands and an arm of the Amazon to the tiny jungle village of Padrecoche. Once there we had to ask several people before finding someone who knew where the illusive Don Lucho lived, then take a hairy off-road moto-taxi ride through the jungle with a driver who couldn’t have been more than 10 years old – although he certainly knew what he was doing on a motorbike J But finally we found Don Lucho, alias Luis, in his little palm-thatched house in the middle of the steaming jungle, and had a good chat to him about the mysterious magical ways of the shamans. The result was that we decided to take part in an ayahuasca ceremony the following night – a ritual involving drinking a medicine made from a jungle vine meant to release you of negative energy, heal physical and emotional ills and provide you with spiritual insights. It also involves quite a lot of what the shamans prefer to call ‘purging of negative energy’ – which literally translates as vomiting your guts out. J Thus, we arrived for the ceremony the next evening with not a little trepidation. And although we did end up doing quite a bit of ‘purging’ (me more than Mic – I apparently had lots of negative energy to get rid of) and didn’t have any life-changing revelations, we certainly didn’t regret taking part in the ritual. It was a really other-worldly experience, sitting in a dark little hut in the middle of the jungle as the only ‘gringo’ participants (the other two were locals seeking cures, one man who had suffered a stroke and a woman with spinal injuries) with the shaman and his three apprentices smoking,singing, whistling, chanting and shaking bundles of dried leaves, making a sound like 100s of birds wings. The smoke filled hut, the hypnotic noises and the effects of the ayahuasca juice combined to make us almost believe in magic, and we left the little hut several hours later very happy to have experienced the healing ceremony.

Our pint sized expert moto-taxi driver...

And his cheeky little brother along for the bumpy ride

Don Lucho's house in the jungle

So, after almost 2 wonderfully relaxing weeks in Iquitos, we decided it was time to finally tear ourselves away, a feat that many visitors do not master – we met numerous westerners who came to visit and never left this special little spot in the rainforest. But as much as we liked the place, new adventures await, and so we headed to the harbor again in search of a boat that may or may not leave in the near future. We had already found out that getting to Ecuador by boat, as we had originally planned, is quite complicated, with boats only leaving once a month and often only going as far as the border. Getting to Brazil would have been easier, but unfortunately Australians are required to apply for a visa to enter Brazil, which would have been more trouble that it was worth. So our only option was to take a lancha back the way we came, back to Yurimaguas once more. After the expected delay (only one day this time!) our laden boat made its slow but steady way upriver against the current, stopping at numerous tiny river-side villages along the way to drop off passengers and cargo, before finally arriving back in Yuri. A strike that has closed down the town greeted us and slammed us back into the real world – there is nothing like a 3km walk in 38°C heat carrying a 20kg backpack to make you forget about jungle magic J But we certainly hope we will retain a little bit of the unique Iquitos karma as we continue on our way. 

Interesting junction of two different coloured rivers on the way back to Yuri

Another wonderful sunset on board - this time with a rainbow! Love the slow pace of life on the mighty rivers..