welcome to the jungle
after almost a month at altitude we were both extremely keen to swap our existences as asthmatic old ladies in la paz for a few days as fleet footed oxygen fuelled youngsters in the madidi national park, bolivia´s slice of the amazon. we had opted to fly to rurrenbaque, the gateway to the park, as opposed to braving the 16-20 hour bus journey, largely to save time and also because vicki was struggling to recover from a stomach illness which had kept her in the toilet for the couple of days after our death road exertions. i have a history of bus journey masochism and, to be honest, there was quite a large part of me which would have felt more secure trundling up cliff faces in a rust bucket then flying in the small twin prop plane which awaited us on the tarmac in la paz military airport. i know where i am with crap third world buses: my one experience of these small overgrown meccano set planes was a particulary hairy journey from goa to mumbai which i was not overly eager to repeat.still, the flight was fine and spectacular, as we traversed the massive peaks of the cordillera real. a quick word on this: i´ve flown over mountains before, but this was the first time i´ve actually had to fly through them. amazing views but which imbued me with a sense of glorious dread that didn´t alleviate until we rose above the clouds. after only ten minutes away from the snowcaps we descended again to what seemed like a different country, a different world, as the winding amazon meandered its way through postcard green jungle between us. the greenery didn´t stop as we pulled into land, however, as we touched down in a cloud of dust on what looked like a threadbare elongated football field. definitely not heathrow is rurrenbaque airport, more a hut and a patch of grass serviced by toy planes.
rurre is a nice (and flat) place, although our enjoyment of the village was initially hindered by the fact that vicki´s stomach bug simply would not lift, and she was feeling rougher and rougher and looking pastier and pastier all the time. and then we had one of those rare strokes of luck which reinforce all belief in karma, destiny and the like as, completely at random, we ran into a scottish chap who took one look at vicki, diagnosed her and prescribed her antibiotics for what he felt was a gut infection as opposed to the food poisoning which we had presumed it was, and had presumed would simply work its way through her system. we unfortunately never ran into this doctor in disguise again but he was an absolute lifesaver, and probably fixed vicki for good from an ailment which in varying degrees had been afflicting her for almost a month.
the following day we set off into the pampas: the jungle tours were meant to be more of the treehugging variety, whereas the pampas was apparently the place to view wildlife. one quick, but longrunning beef: on our day of departure there were ten travellers and, somewhat randomly, an affluent bolivian family (complete with a distressingly large matriarch complete with cowboy hat and ever present umbrella). our tour company had decided to put the two of us with the family leaving the other travellers to bond and revel in a camaraderie that we were excluded from until, with vicki´s ire having reached volcanic proportions over the course of the first day, she exploded when they suggested we share a room with the family. cue toys out of pram, justifiably so, and the start of a few days where we straddled the group we were supposed to be in and the one which we wanted to be, and should have been, in, a rather lovely selection of motley dutch, german, irish and english folk who were solid entertainment throughout.
the initial boat journey to our camp was actually where we would see the most wildlife, largely caimans and alligators sunning themselves on the banks, but also toucans, capybara, herons, anacondas, dophins, turtles and monkeys. we actually got a bit closer to the action then i, sitting at the front of the boat, would have liked as our guide insisted on driving right up to the banks where the caimans were resting. normally they would look up warily and slope into the water before we got too close, but a few times they left it late before suddenly rousing themselves and scuttling into the water when i was inches away. they were, of course, heading to the water but from where i was sitting it looked like they were rushing, teeth bared, right at me and i am not ashamed to say i had a few minor heart attacks as the glint of their ostensibly malicious eyes got closer and closer before disappearing underwater. i also had some extremely cute monkeys clamber over my head although more to reach the banana which had been rested there as opposed to any real affection for me: i bet they´ll never call, the users.
the three day tour was, bolivian family dramas aside, excellent as we stomped through the pampas looking for snakes and getting knee deep in and wellyfull of mud in the process and caught beautiful sunrises and sunsets over the murky but glittering river, with all activities interspersed with surprisingly good food, great chat and prodiguous hammock lazing. we saw plenty of fabulous beasties (although sadly for vicki no sloths) and generally enjoyed everything laid on. back in la paz now for a few days of tat shopping and i already miss the feeling of being able to walk for more than ten metres without having to stop for a wheeze.
posted by bicrom @ 3:12 pm
