by Jane | Mar 24, 2015 | Europe, My travels |
My next adventure is underway. The starting point is Helsinki – the end point…who knows!
And from the very beginning it appeared that things were going to be a bit challenging.
Drama #1 occured as soon as I arrived at the airport. I was met by my fellow traveller who handed me the keys to his large (left-hand drive) transit van and he announced that, due to certain circumstances I had to drive.
Out of Helsinki during the rush hour. Along the motorway which was being dug up and like a slalom course. And directly into the low setting sun and with the sand which had been laid on the icy roads during the winter whipped up into a swirling sandstorm.
The only thing that I can say about that white knuckle ride was that the sky ahead of us resembled nothing that I had seen before – it was pure molten gold and more beautiful than any sky that I had ever seen.
I had been in Finland during winter once before when I had visited Tampere – you can read about that experience here
The frozen fjord at Espoo, Finland
But we survived the journey and the next day we spent a half a day walking around Helsinki which is an OK sort of a city, but it is very spread out. The highlights are the Uspenski Cathedral with its red brick and green onion dome roofs and the fantastic-from-the-outside-but-plain-inside white Cathedral.
Helsinki Cathedral
Drama #2 began after we had booked a night in an apart-hotel in the dormitory town of Espoo over the internet. The hotel had no receptionist present at any time. When you are sitting in your vehicle and you have very intermittent internet access and no Finnish SIM card and you have paid for the night over the internet but cannot open the email which contains details of your room and the key code, you cannot even begin to express your frustration. But eventually we sorted that problem out and got into the hotel.
On day 3 we were back in the van for another white knuckle ride back into Helsinki for the ferry port. Dodging the trams I was quite proud that I only managed to jump one red light – I didn’t notice the junction let alone the traffic lights – but I was just relieved to reach the terminal in one piece.
And then there was drama #3. Two very large border guards were cruising around the queue of cars when they pulled up alongside us and studied us intently. We KNEW that they would be interested in us and then they were asking for our papers. While everything was in order things were not straightforward (but not my story to tell at this stage here) and then I was being asked to blow into a breathalyser and I had the cells from my tongue scraped for a roadside drug test.
When everything came back negative (alcohol, marihuana, opiates and amphetamines) the border guards lost interest in us, allowed me to take a photo of the drug test and decided that they didn’t need to pull everything out of the van. And so I drove us onto the MS Finlandia for the 2.5 hour trip across the Gulf of Bothnia to Estonia.
Beach huts on one of the islands as we leave Finland
Estonia
If driving in Helsinki was nerve wracking I almost had a complete meltdown in Tallinn. Driving off the ferry I was horrified to discover that here there were trolley buses, which instilled fear into me as unlike trams they were perfectly capable of veering off their tracks and EVERYBODY was driving at twice the speed limit (at least) and they are, I think, probably the second most aggressive, fast drivers in the world – after those in Bahrain.
We tracked down our hotel for the night which was in an old stone building that was once a sauna complex for the town, and from which we could see the large castle which dominates Tallinn.
Part of the castle at Tallinn, Estonia
On Sunday morning we set off on foot to explore, wandering around the little winding streets although it was next to impossible to get lost as the tall spires of the various churches which rose above the walled city acted as good orientation points. Tallinn has an incredibly well preserved wall surrounding much of it and little streets which are a charming mix of the traditional wooden houses and the modern. The old town square was picture postcard perfect in the warm winter sun and we were lucky enough to bag a table outside one of the little bars and rest for a while.
The town hall in the Old Town Square, Tallinn, Estonia
We visited the Orthodox cathedral which is up near the castle complex. The inside was atmospheric with the smokey haze and scent from the candles and the incense rising high up into the onion dome. Pillars were painted with flowers and swirls and there was constant movement as people flowed between the various icons and altars, many stooping to touch the floor and some even kneeling to kiss the floor in front of some of the relics.
The Orthodox Cathedral, Tallinn, Estonia
I had really enjoyed learning Spanish when I was travelling in South America and now on this trip I want to learn a musical instrument. Many travellers have guitars or drums but as I desperately need to reduce the weight that I carry, I opted for the harmonica. Back at the hotel that evening S, my fellow traveller who can play many instruments very well gave me my first harmonica lesson. I thought that it went rather well, and rather easier to learn that Spanish but some of the other hotel guests may argue otherwise.
The following day I went out alone to explore Tallinn. I found the ‘Knit Market’ where rows of stalls are set into arches underneath the town walls and ladies sit knitting and selling their woollen socks and jumpers. I found the ‘Cat Well’ where in the olden times people would throw the stray cats (dead and often alive) as a sacrifice to ensure that the water to the town wouldn’t run dry – never mind about the risk to the public health from the decomposing bodies.
And I saw St Olaf’s Church with its slender spire and which was once the tallest building in the world, although it and all of the other museums were closed, either because it was Monday or the ‘wintry season’ or both so I was unable to climb the tower and look out over the red roofs of Tallinn.
Castle and town walls in Tallinn, Estonia
I was stood in the street studying a map when two young men approached me and asked if I needed any help. Forty five minutes later we were still chatting by the side of the road. Andri, smart as a pin in his blue suit and Gunner a teacher, both spoke excellent English and had a cracking repartee of anecdotes and observations on life. They were hilarious and I was sorry to have to move on and to say goodbye to them. And a little later in the day they emailed me to tell me that just after we had separated they had been fined for jay-walking!
Andri and Gunner
Estonia, like many places that I visit, has surprised me. I try to travel without any pre-conceptions and always with an open mind, but you can’t help but absorb information which the media decide should shape your view of the world. I have always thought that it is so important to watch the news and to be aware of what is going on in the world, but as I travel, I am more and more disillusioned, not by the news itself, but by the spin which is placed on the stories and which distances us from other people, countries and cultures.
Estonia is spotlessly clean – from the streets without litter to the clarity of the air. For all of my first week I was blessed with brilliant blue, cloudless skies, crisp cold mornings at freezing point, but with temperatures rising rapidly in the sun during the daytime. Most people can speak many languages – English, Russian, Finnish and Swedish seemed to predominate and they are friendly and keen to chat.
The cat well
I love to travel and to see things. Old buildings, modern towns, forests or beaches are all fantastic but for me, it is the connection with people who make my travel so special. Andri and Gunner were a chance meeting by the side of the road but they made my day in Tallinn, so for this journey as I travel down through the Baltic States I intend to delve a little bit deeper into the lives of the people that I meet and bring you some of their stories.
I hope that you will follow me and accompany me on my adventures as I head south.
by Jane | Mar 17, 2015 | Brazil, Destinations |
A birthday to remember: with waterfalls, idylic beaches and jungle treks
somewhere near Paraty
I am often asked – Is Rio dangerous? – so I thought that I would remind you of my time there.
It was my birthday and at ten in the morning I was travelling in a car with a woman who I had only met half an hour before (Click here to remind yourself how this happened). Her native language was Portuguese and mine English. I had no idea where I would be spending the night or even where I was going, but over the course of the next two days I saw things that I would never have seen if I had not been with Tathy.
First up, we drove to a beach. Swathes of white sand shimmered with mirages in the heat and emerald green jungle sprawled down from the mountains behind. The trees crept right up to the sand at the back of the beach while humps of islands, clothed in glossy green trees were dotted around in the horseshoe shaped bay of the bluest sea.
another tropical beach paradise
And there was hardly anybody there. Just a couple of guys digging for shellfish at the water’s edge and a family splashing around in the sea, the dad reading in the shade of their bright red parasol.
We drove inland and in the hills we found crystal clear rivers babbling along beds of copper coloured pebbles and which were criss-crossed with rope and plank bridges and we watched children playing, slippery and glossy as eels in the water, shrieking in their own indigenous language. We met and chatted to some ladies in a traditional Indian community who were bouncing the most beautiful babies in their arms and we bought some of their handcrafts from them.
Brazil and another (almost) deserted tropical paradise
We had lunch at a restaurant in the jungle and then we trekked to a waterfall and another deserted beach before ending up in the cute little village of Trindade. Here we found a tiny little hostel for the night and I ended my birthday sat on the sand and looking out to sea with my new friend who I had only met earlier that day.
The following day we went for a hike along the beach from Trindade. This has to be one of the most beautiful stretches of coastline on the planet with its powder white sands, green jungle and the blue sea, but there was another surprise further along the beach. A natural swimming arena had been formed from the most gigantic rocks which had fallen at the water’s edge and which now enclose a seawater pool. And while people splashed and played, thousands of colourful fish swam around us nibbling legs and toes and children clambered high up onto the rocks and tiny motor boats inched in to collect passengers who didn’t want to walk back along the hot sand.
The natural swimming pool
We hiked inland following a river uphill through the trees, stopping every so often to swim in the pools at the base of the little waterfalls. We came to a place where the waterfall dropped down into a small hole underneath a huge boulder and splashed out several yards away at the bottom. Known as ‘the rock that swallows’ we watched as people squeezed into the hole and were swept underneath to be spat out the other side. I have pushed many boundaries on this trip but this was one which was not going to be attempted.
The ‘rock that swallows’
This was certainly a birthday to remember. I made a new friend and I saw places that I would never have gone to alone, and then just 48 hours after meeting Tathy she dropped me off at the bus station and I was on the final leg of my adventure. I was off to Rio de Janeiro for my flight back to the UK.
But first I had a few days in Rio and my journey had almost come full circle. I checked into my hostel – the Samba Green Hostel which is co-owned by Carlos. I had met Carlos three months previously in Cartagena (read about our visit to the fort in Cartagena here) when he was taking a well earned holiday and I had promised him that I would stay at his place when I finally made it to Rio.
The little yellow Samba Green hostel in Rio
You can’t fail to like Carlos. His spirited, friendly and exuberant character is reflected in his hostel. As usual I checked into the cheapest, largest dormitory and this one had TRIPLE height bunk beds accessed by steep ladders and a mezanine layer with two more double bunks – so five layers of beds! I was lucky and I bagged the top of one of the triples. It shouldn’t make a difference but I felt like a child again in this fun room. There is also a female only dorm, a computer room and a tiny little kitchen for guests to use.
triple bunk beds
The hostel had idiot-proof directions from the airport and bus station on its website – even I managed not to get lost for once and it was situated in a leafy suburban street in the Botofogo district. The main beach of Copacabana was an easy twenty five minute walk away and the main metro station was close too.
Even the toilets were fun with brightly painted doors and large shower cubicles and the staff were all brilliant fun and friendly.
The view from the cable car at Sugar Loaf mountain
A very generous breakfast was included in the price and it was here that I met Winnie and then together we visited Sugar Loaf mountain. Winnie is Brazilian and spoke really excellent English but it was only after we had bought our tickets for the cable car that we confessed to each other that we were both very scared of heights. I have got better since cable cars are a relatively common form of public transport in South America but these looked daunting. In fact you take two separate cars. The first takes you up a very steep cliff where you change to the other which suspends and dangles over the ocean, as it rises steeply to the plug of rock which is Sugarloaf.
high rises and favelas
But we made it and despite the fog and the wind the views were good. I never realised quite how the city of Rio wraps itself around the mountains, that the Sugar Loaf rises out of the sea or how far back and in the distance the famous statue of Christ the Redeemer is.
Some of the travellers that I had met in Sao Paulo had also come into Rio and had booked into the Samba Green on my recommendation. Together some of us went to Copacabana beach – in the rain – and then later when the sun was out and it looked like it was supposed to and one evening, five of us – an English man, a Dutch man, a Danish-Ugandan, a French lady and myself all went along to the Maracana stadium to watch a football match. That was quite an evening. The World Cup final had been held here and we watched a local derby between two of the major teams from Rio. There was a lot of passion and rivalry between the fans with some fierce drumming and massive banners and flags and a heavy police presence.
The Maracana stadium is filling up
The hostel staff took us all off on a pub crawl one evening after plying us with caiparinhas. It wasn’t so much of a pub crawl as a stop in a club but it was ok – until I did my usual party trick of falling asleep in the toilets and I managed to lose everyone. I had kept myself more or less safe during my whole solo trip around South America and it looked like things could get dodgy, but as I was wandering up and down the street with all the clubs and bars I bumped into Ben from the hostel and we shared a cab back together.
The Lapa distric of Rio
The Lapa district which is where a lot of the bars are situated has an impressive aquaduct crossing the street and rather bizarrely partygoers meet on the forecourt of a petrol station, smoking and drinking among the petrol pumps.
Is Rio dangerous? Possibly at this meeting place – the petrol station
On my final day three of us decided to get up to the Christ the Redeemer statue. What an epic attempt because we failed to remember that it was a Sunday AND a national holiday so half the population of Rio was queuing to get up the mountain. And we did queue. We took a taxi and then a series of mini buses which shuttled us up the mountain to join more queues.
The iconic Christ the Redemeer statue in the fog
I spoke to some of the marshals who told me that I would have to do the same in reverse to get down again so I had to give up. The two lads decided that they had also had enough of waiting around so we gave our tickets away to some people in the queue and we returned to the hostel so that I could leave for the airport, when the adorable Carlos took my rucksack off to the bus stop for me on the back of his motorbike
Copacabana beach in the sun
And then, 364 days after I left the UK I was back in a plane, flying first to Madrid and then to Heathrow to visit my friends and my family.
Writing this article has been incredibly hard because it heralds my departure from South America and it marks my final few days on that magnificent, frustrating, drop-dead beautiful, diverse continent.
I lost my heart to the people and the mountains, the jungle, the beaches and the deserts of Colombia, Brazil, Ecuador, Peru and Bolivia. I am itching to return.
Thank you South America and to everybody who I met for helping me to rediscover myself and to find the strength to finally believe in myself again.
…..to be continued!
Staircase at the Samba Green
by Jane | Mar 12, 2015 | Europe, My travels |
I have a plan of sorts.
Today I will be flying from Barcelona to Helsinki where I will begin a road trip south.
I plan to travel through Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania learning about the culture and history of these countries as I go, and I will try to get a little side trip into Russia – did you know that there is a little area called Kaliningrad marrooned off to the west and sandwiched in between Lithuania and Poland?
The idea is to continue through Poland and Germany – and see where I end up, depending on what takes my fancy.
So sign up to follow me and see where I end up
by Jane | Jan 6, 2015 | Colombia, Destinations |
OK – let’s backtrack in my story.
After Emy, Lio and I finally ran out of time cavorting on the Caribbean coast of Colombia and I survived my attempted mugging unscathed, I returned to Cartagena. Originally I intended to just stay a couple of nights as I had already spent almost a week there previously.
The old town, Cartagena
My hostel of choice (the Mamallena) was full so we found another in the same street. This one had a totally different vibe to the Mamallena – it was small and charming and run by a lovely family. I opted for the cheapest dorm without air con, but it comprised just one set (or should that be pile) of bunk beds and I ended up having it all to myself for the majority of my stay.
It seemed that the French were in town that week andwhilst it was very sad to finally say goodbye to Lio after some big adventures I was still surrounded by those wicked French accents and gallic humour.
Backstreets of Cartagena
So why did I linger so long in Cartagena?
For the same reason that I lingered in Medellin and Amaga, Cuenca and Santa Marianita. The people that I met. And in Cartagena I got my mojo back.
The place has a laid back Caribbean vibe and it was too hot to go charging about. The food is a bit different, the rum flows freely and the architecture is stunning. The buildings and the people and the lifestyle reminded me very much of Cuba – hot steamy nights and life lived to thumping beats of salsa and rum.
A local fiesta
As I was working at my laptop in the tiny little common area of the hostel a traveller from Poland (Luna) arrived one morning following her five day sail boat from Panama. I greeted her and as I told her that the hostel was like a little family home there was one of those moments when you just know that you will click with someone. And in Cartagena we all just kept clicking.
A couple from South Africa were travelling and were one reason that I didn’t move on – Dirk was an inspiration as he worked away on his laptop and I would often emulate him and work on mine. Many times I wanted to give up and get out in the sunshine but it is a lot easier to work in an ‘office’ environment with others – even if that office constitutes a bean bag or the local coffee shop. Sune, Dirk’s wife also worked too – she was volunteering in the hostel and when she wasn’t cleaning or cooking she was sketching or writing a book.
There was Don Pedro and his wife Celis, Quitto who had hidden talents as a tailor and a frazzled Fin who was sick and was holed up in one of the rooms. There were the guys from Mexico and Argentina and as I have already mentioned, a steady stream of French men, some amazing local dancers and the dashing Danny. I met up again with another incredible Dani – we had originally been friends in Medellin. She and her partner were Argentinian and were heading steadily north, he playing his drums and she making and selling beautiful sandals and bracelets. Another beautiful couple, full of strength, love and generosity I was so happy sat on the street just being with them, doing my best to chat as they plied their wares or jammed with other musicians on a street corner or in a square.
Artisan selling Argentinians
Myself, Luna and Canela from the States hit it off and we formed our little gang of three in which we inspired, encouraged and supported each other. We perched high up on the ancient city walls overlooking the sea and chatted long into the night as the warm breeze swept off the sea or we sat in a line on the doorstep of the hostel, emulating the prostitutes who sat on the doorsteps all along the road opposite. We went into the clubs and pubs and danced until four am, taking lessons in reggaeton from local women – grinding and swirling sandwiched between them and then champeta lessons from the men. We felt the rhythm of life swaying and moving with Danny on the roof terrace and another night we went along to Don Pedro’s birthday party where we salsa’d and shook our stuff in his home with his neighbours and family.
Afro Colombian fruit seller
We shared our dreams and worries and told each other that we were beautiful. None of us wanted our time here to end and we would have deep and meaningful conversations or just sit in contented silence happy to just be. We jumped on the local bus and went to a local beach where we were the only non- Colombians around. We sat in Plaza de la Trinidad at two in the morning drinking rum and coke out of the plastic cups so thoughtfully supplied at the corner shop and one day we sat fully clothed in a rainstorm on the roof terrace for an hour not wanting to interrupt our conversation.
Putting the world to rights on the historic city walls
One night we had a cocktail party at the hostel and Dirk spent a couple of hours making coconut milk for the pina coladas from real coconuts which proved to be a lot harder than the recipes on the internet stated and another night we pulled mattresses onto the roof terrace and opened every door and window when the power cut out and the fans and aircon went off whislt the thermometer climbed above thirty four degrees.
Sweltering Cartagena
Thanks to these incredible people that I met in Cartagena I FINALLY began to believe in myself. After ten months on the road I knew that I had been right to give up my apartment and my posessions, my job and my car. I was comfortable living in hostels and sharing dorms and food with strangers. I was no longer afraid of the dark or crowds or twisty mountain roads. I would get up and dance in a restaurant when invited and I could find my way back to my hostel all by myself at four in the morning through streets lined with prostitutes and sleeping drug addicts. I could handle a conversation with a stranger or a bus driver in Spanish, I was more than happy visiting a museum or a restaurant alone and I was finally managing to live with events from my past life that I was unable to change.
Drowsy Cartagena at siesta time
Cartagena the second time around was like living in a surreal bubble. Friendships and conversations had an intensity and an urgency yet life was slow in the heat and humidity. None of us felt any desire to move onwards and out of Cartagena but we knew that our visas wouldn’t last for ever. We vowed to keep in touch and to be there for each other.
Feel life. Understand life through feelings, through touching, biting, smelling, seeing. Freedom and energy, limitless joy. Through dance and the heartbeat. The rhythm of life
Our teacher – he understands life through feelings , through touching, biting, smelling, seeing. He explains the world, the life through the original basic instinct to live…. to survive, to go forward and yet dance.
He cannot be the teacher of words. But he was definitely our teacher of life, of dance, of liberty and acceptance:- Luna
by Jane | Dec 16, 2014 | Destinations, Ecuador |
On my second day in the jungle I woke early as the sun streamed in through my mosquito net. The windows were just open wooden frames and from my bed I could hear strange noises. Getting up to investigate I was enthralled to see a troop of capuchin monkeys playing in the trees outside my window, grooming each other and daring each other to go near the dining area, when there were yells from the kitchen as one of the braver monkeys dashed over the low wall and stole a banana off the table.
early morning visitors at our camp
After a massive cooked breakfast I set off with Javier into the jungle on foot. I had been given welly boots as it was muddy in places and we wandered for miles and for hours. It was everything that I hoped and expected with the sunlight filtering down through the canopy high above and Javier stopping very frequently to explain the medicinal plants and trees. He pointed out insects and birds and then we found some more monkeys just getting on with their lives high above us. We heard howler monkeys and exotic birds and Javier showed me some MASSIVE spiders and creepy crawlies, I licked milk of magnesium from a tree where he had made a small nick in the bark and watched as he found and burnt natural incense and a twig which smelt just like tobacco.
monster spider webs
I shut my eyes and stuck my tongue out as instructed,expecting Javier to sprinkle some sap or water onto it as he had been fiddling about with a leaf and a tree trunk. Umm – lemon flavour water. Umm fizzy lemon flavour water. Quite tasty. Ummmmmm – something crawling up my nose! Fizzy lemon flavoured ants!!!!!!!!!!!!! While I spat and blew my noise Javier was bend over with laughter, but I do have to confess – until I realised that they were ants they were actually quite tasty.
and monster spiders
At times our walk resembled something out of a Disney film or Avatar with massive orchids bending under their own weight suspended from tree trunks, and clouds – and I do mean clouds of butterflies swooping and hovering around everywhere, some of them as big as my two hands held with fingers outstretched. There were bees, ants and wasps, and a warm humidity muffled the sounds. It felt like we were walking inside a grand hall of tree trunks and leaves.
a clearing in the jungle canopy
Eventually we came out to a little beach on the edge of the lagoon and we sat in complete peace until the canoe with the others came and collected us and took us back to the lodge. After an excellent and huge lunch I dozed off in a hammock for the afternoon, lulled gently to sleep by buzzing insects. After our siesta we went out in the smaller canoe and paddled gently around the lake. We stopped and listened to the cayman gulping and grunting somewhere in the the thick undergrowth and then as the sun launched itself over the horizon of trees we again swam in the warm lagoon.
no need to steal – bananas are left out for the monkeys
After dinner Javier led me deep into the dark of the jungle and with torches flashing on the trees and the ground we discovered a whole different world of insects, frogs and birds. When we had walked for ages we put the torches off and sat in total darkness. The starlight couldn’t penetrate the canopy and we sat like this for about twenty minutes in silence. It was comforting and the dark wrapped around us like a security blanket yet a little disconcerting as I wondered what was out there in the dark watching us. I believed I could see orange and red eyes staring out at us from between the tree trunks.
La Hormiga Lodge
Time was flashing by and on the third day after breakfast with the sun shining and turning the surface of the lake to mercury Javier and I set off on another big adventure. We paddled and we paddled and we paddled. Across the Laguna Cuyabena up the creeks and past the sunken forests, around Cayman Cocha (lake) and then we struggled against a faster current in a a muddy brown river, finally bringing the canoe to rest in a shady spot among some reeds. Looking nervously around for those pesky caymans we got down to fishing with a cane, some twine and a hunk of meat.
patiently fishing in the shade
We didn’t have to wait for long before the cane bent and up came – and an empty hook. Several times we reloaded until eventually Javier hooked a snapping , growling piranha. Yes, it really did snap and clatter its teeth and despite being hauled out of the water it was totally focused on trying to devour the meat and yes it did growl too. It was the rojo (red) variety and it was really quite stunning although we were careful not to get our fingers too close as we posed for photos and then gently released it back into the water.
a red piranha
After a rest and a recovery from our frantic paddling we continued up the river until it opened out into the Laguna Grande. What struck me on this trip was the total peace. Yes there was noise but it was natural. There was total unadulterated by man type of silence. Like at Wadi Rum in Jordan and at the top of Machu Picchu I felt linked to this planet of ours, a spiritual, primeval connection. Connected and a part of the larger global picture; feeling compelled to make my time here in this world count in any small way possible.
simply magical
We ‘parked’ our canoe under another shady tree and after another spot of piranha fishing (we caught a white piranha this time) we just sprawled in the bottom of the boat and rested for a while, Javier listening to his music through his earphones and I counting my blessings for fate/opportunity/my guardian angel which had led me to this little bit of paradise.
breathtaking
We evenually paddled back in silence, back through the eerie trees growing out of the lagoon, parrots in the trees and the endless fluttering butterflies. As we drifted down the muddy brown waters escorted by smudges of insects and with the plops of fish jumping around us I felt my energy levels recharge and my love for life given a new surge.
possibly my most favourite place on the planet
For my last evening at La Hormiga I had a special treat. After dinner, three of us went out in the motor canoe and armed with torches went looking for cayman. I had heard these creatures as we had paddled along the rivers but now was my chance to see them. the lagoon took on a whole new personality in the dark, with shadows and intrigue. I very quickly lost my bearings as we went up and down the channels but Javier skillfully navigated his way. Every so often he would cut the engine and I would hold my breath as the beam of the torches picked out the bright orangey/ yellowy eyes of the stealthy cayman.
paradise
I saw the prehistoric snouts floating around us and once spotted one creature ‘take a ploof’ and with very little noise, push itself off the muddy bank and disappear into a swirl of water in the lagoon. I felt priviledged and humbled to see these ancient creatures and quite a little bit scared to be so close to them.
My final morning I was supposed to get out of bed at 5am and go into the jungle and listen to the birdsong of the dawn chorus and watch the sunrise, but I lay awake most of the night listening to the rain hammering on the tin roof above me. It was still tap dancing down at dawn so whilst Javier was more than prepared to lead me, I decided that it would be a soggy damp excursion that I could do without.
muddy waters hiding cayman and piranhas
After breakfast, we all piled back into the canoe which was loaded with trash bound for the town and the empty petrol cans and we began our journey back to civililisation. We broke down at one point but a fortuitous passing canoe transfered some fuel to us and sadly we had to continue our journey. Back at the little bridge I was I then offered a lift back into Lago Agrio by another guest where I jumped on a bus and headed back to Quito
The Amazonian jungle covers a massive swathe of the planet in South America and differs from country to country with different flora and fauna, indigenous people and cultures and customs.
it may be muddy but it is clean
If you want a to immerse yourself in a place where tourism is respectful and gentle, then get yourself to Lago Agrio and jump off into Cuyebena. I stayed at La Hormiga Lodge which is bookable through Marco Polo Tours and who have various offices around Ecuador and I can thoroughly recommend them.
They were recommended to my by Andres the owner of the Mallki Hostel in Cuenca who is a jungle guide in his own right. I had the option to visit an indigenous community within the jungle as part of my journey but I chose not to do this. My trip was tailored to my requirements and those of the other guests and nothing was too much trouble. Lilia worked hard in the kitchen and gave us filling, tasty meals and the guides – especially Javier were the best. Accomodation was comfortable but built sympathetically with the surroundings. Windows were generally open spaces, the water for the bathrooms and showers came from the lagoon and the hammocks in the communal area were perfect for resting up after a hard days paddle.
just hangin’ around
If you speak English and you are in Quito and you want to volunteer for a few months with Marco Polo Tours, do contact Ivan as he would like somebody to help out in the office there, selling the tours to English speaking tourists, and if you fancy exploring the jungle in Cuyabena in Ecuador do give them a ring or pop in to one of the offices.
Note:- Whilst I received discounted accommodation at La Hormiga Lodge with Marco Polo Tours this did not influence my opinion or review in any way. I have portrayed an honest picture of my stay.
If you enjoy my blog, please ‘like’ my Facebook page – www.facebook.com/scarletjones30
by Jane | Dec 9, 2014 | Destinations, Ecuador |
I know that I keep on banging on that I have found the most perfect place on earth, but I honestly do think that I am getting close. Or at least close to the most perfect natural environment on earth. The Jordanian desert at Wadi Rum and the mountains around Amagá in Colombia have now been pipped to the post by Cuyabena which is in the Amazonian jungle in the north of Ecuador.
trees growing in the laguna
Andres, jungle guide and owner of the Mallki Hostel in Cuenca kindly arranged for me to visit La Hormiga Lodge (The Ant Lodge) and to stay for four days with some of his friends.
Whilst excited, I approached this with some trepidation because I knew that the stay would mean travel by canoe – and I have, or rather had, quite an aversion to water and boats.
My trip didnt get off to a good start when my seven hour bus journey to Lago Agrio turned into ten and a half hours of hell. It turned out that earlier that day a bullion van had been hijacked on the mountain road and blown up and it had reduced part of the road to rubble. As well as trying to repair the road the army and police had a heavy presence and basically stopped everything from moving so our bus just sat by the side of the road in the dark with everybody else for ages.
Anyway, I eventually rocked up in the jungle town of Lago Agrio with just half an hour to spare and I found the travel agency of Marco Polo Tours who were organising my adventure and who have the lodge where I was to stay.
I was checked in and all of the necessary paperwork was completed and then I was loaded into the backseat of a truck and we went sourcing fuel, oil, food and water for the trip. This was followed by a two hour drive into the jungle – as we bowled along the roads I tried not to dwell too much on the amount of fuel that was strapped in the back of the pick-up in huge plastic drums and which had converted us into a giant moving petrol bomb.
all fuel has to be taken in to the jungle
We safely arrived at the ‘bridge’ – the launching point into the jungle. From here transport was solely by water, but first I was given lunch while everybody sorted themselves and the cargo out. EVERYTHING had to be transported into the jungle by the canoes – the food, bedding, building materials and fuel as well as the staff and the guests, and this bridge area was the main jumping off point for all the lodges in this region so it was quite a hive of activity.
The bridge
I was introduced to an Argentinian couple who were to stay at the same hostel for just one night, and then we settled ourselves into our canoe and we were off down the muddy brown tributory on another two hour leg of the journey. Our powerful motor propelled us along, with the guide Javier pausing every so often and pointing out the birds, trees, flowers and eventually whoop whoop – a monkey in the trees above us. I had seen wild monkeys in India but out there among the temples and buildings they are just a pest – here was a real wild monkey in its proper habitat and we were all so excited as we drifted around below it.
the muddy brown tributory of the river system
Eventually the river emptied out into a large lagoon. This was the bit that I had been dreading, but with submerged forests and trees right down to the water’s edge it was so breathtaking I was not scared. I didn’t want the journey to end. It was magical. The surface of the lake was a mirror reflecting the clouds and the trees and whilst it was certainly not quiet with insects, birds and canoe motors there was no hum of traffic, no drone of distant aeroplanes and no other man-made noise.
blindingly beautiful
The sheer magic of the place brought tears to my eyes and I felt really emotional. We reached our little jetty and we made our way up to the lodge and our accomodation. Here again I was pleasantly surprised. Ivan had built the lodge himself and had opened it just four years previously. It could accomodate up to thirty two guests in a variety of rooms where pretty mosquito nets draped over comfortable beds and showers were fed by lake water and heated by the sun.
my pretty bedroom
After a short rest following our journey our little group of three split up, and after being told that I should wear swimwear, Javier and I set back out in the canoe to see the most stunning sunset. There were some of the canoes from the other lodges scattered about the centre of the lagoon and some people swimming in the water. I had assumed that we would find a nice beach area to swim from, but I tentatively lowered myself into the luke warm water to discover that, even in the centre of the large lagoon I could touch the sludgy muddy bottom in places. The water level was receding because we were in the dry season but I nervously swam around – after all the laguna was filled with pirhana fish and cayman.
evening bathtime
It was then, after I had struggled very inelegantly back into the canoe that Javier told me that the pirhanas and other fish fed at the perimeter of the lake from berries and insects that fell in and the caymen in turn, fed on these fish so we were quite safe out in the middle of the lake. I couldn’t help wondering how long it would take creatures that were crawling about on the planet at the same time as the dinasours were roaming around to work out that most evenings a large banquet gathered in the centre of the laguna at sunset and they should maybe make their way there to feast upon the tourists.
sunset at the most magical place on the planet
As the sun set over the forest, the lagoon turned even more magical and beautiful if that were even possible. The reds and oranges were reflected in the perfect mirror surface of the lake, the trees which were growing up from the water became silouhettes and the insects got louder. The large birds and parrots swooped noisily across the lake to roost in the trees on the islands and then suddenly, dark fell and the frog chorus began. When we paddled silently alongside the edge of the lake we could hear the cayman grunting and rustling eerily in the weeds.
my rustic yet pretty bedroom
After dinner back at La Hormiga we found quite a large snake curled up under the stilts of the building and three giant toads hopped around our feet in the dining room catching some of the insects which were attracted by the lights. A generator powered the electric and I charged my camera (a phone was useless here with no wifi) but it was however ‘lights out’ very early to conserve the generator fuel and then it was just us, the dark and the noises of the jungle.
As I got into my bed and I very carefully made sure that the mosquito nets were pulled completely down around me, I reflected on all of the horror films that I had ever seen, where snakes slither in through open windows and then up and inside something as flimsy as a net. Despite worrying for all of ten minutes I was soon fast asleep.
Find out how I got on in the jungle next week. Make sure that you don’t miss out by following this link and ‘liking’ my Facebook page or submitting your email address in the box at the side of this page.
Note:- Whilst I received discounted accommodation at the La Hormiga Lodge this did not influence my opinion or review in any way. I have portrayed an honest picture of my stay
