Travel Diary: The Peruvian Amazon -Part Four

We managed to do a bit of monkeying around before we left the jungle for good.

The rain stopped just minutes after I awoke just after 6:00 on our last day in the jungle. Heading to the porch, I continued to devour the collection of James Baldwin essays I had been reading. Just before 7:00 I walked down to the lodge to see if there might be any coffee. No one was up yet working in the kitchen, but a man was tending to the grounds raking dried leaves near the footpath.

On the other side of the courtyard, I spied a young boy wandering aimlessly. I noticed a small piece of fruit about the size of a lemon covered in a tough light green rind. I tossed it in the air like a ball to make sure it would be suitable for a game of catch. I introduced myself to the young man in my very poor Spanish and asked his name. He responded with a big smile and told me his name was Michael.

I used body language and motions to convey the idea of playing catch. I knew that I could ask if he wanted to play with the ball, but I had no idea what the word for catch might be in Spanish. Regardless, he picked up on my meaning and we began to toss the piece of fruit back and forth. Slowly, we backed up further and further until we found just the right amount of space for catch with this makeshift baseball. I threw the fruit high in the sky to imitate a pop up. The vast majority of the time Michael would snag the fruit from the air with a proud smile.

We continued our catch until the fruit became ragged and unusable after twenty or thirty minutes. Michael shook my hand and thanked me for the catch. I thanked him back and told him how much I had enjoyed it. Before he ran off to amuse himself again on his own, I asked if I could take his photograph. He gave a happy yes and I snapped a couple of pictures of my new buddy in the Amazon.

caption...

I sat on one of the chaise lounges in the common area of the lodge and read some more of my Baldwin. While I read, Michael’s father finished his work on the grounds and members of the small staff began to show up for another day of work. As I stood up to get a glass of water, Michael and his father motioned me over to the other section of the lodge near the kitchen. Michael’s father introduced himself and thanked me for playing his son. With limited Spanish I gleaned that he greatly appreciated it, and so did his son. I was genuinely touched. They needn't have thanked me at all. I got just as much enjoyment out of that moment as Michael did.

At breakfast I guzzled coffee while savoring my egg and biscuits. The sky hung heavy with thick cloud cover and the hangover of a twelve hour Amazonian rain the night before. As we continued to chat over coffee, we talked with the staff at length and thanked them profusely for their food, service, and kindness during our stay before heading back to the cabana one final time to pack our things for the trip back to Iquitos and onward to home.

To make the most of our remaining time in the jungle, we would be making one last stop on the way back to civilization. Meeting back at the boat with all of our luggage, we each slipped on a pair of rubber boots that the Brits in our traveling party referred to as Wellingtons or “Wellies”. Where I grew up, we just called them shit kickers. Either way, after a day and night of rain, our day’s excursion would be a muddy one to be sure.

We arrived at Isla de los Monos, or Island of the Monkeys in the mid-morning. The sky began to lighten ever so slightly as me made the fifteen minute walk along a jungle trail to the conservatory on the island. Even before arriving at the conservatory, we began to see activity in the trees and we started to hear the sounds of the creatures from whom the island gets its name.

In a small welcome center we were introduced to our guide for the morning. He explained that the monkeys on the island were being nursed back to full health after being illegally trafficked or kept as pets. There are something like 35 monkeys on the grounds, and all but a scant few are allowed to roam freely.

As we toured the open area around the welcome center, curious creatures began to peer at us from nearby trees. A few adventuresome monkeys even walked right over to play. One furry friend even climbed right up my leg up scooted to the top of my head. I wandered around with him up there for at least ten minutes as I took in the grounds.

Wandering around the paths near the center we saw a wide range of species and sizes of monkeys. Two larger, and more aggressive males were in a cage for fear of their violently dominating the rest of the monkeys on the island. Another handful of monkeys were also in cages while nursing back to full health. Along the trails and in the trees, monkeys followed with curiosity and hunger pangs as we explored the grounds in full.

At last, we bade adieu to the monkeys and sadly to the jungle as we headed back for one last boat ride to Iquitos. The midday sun poked through the hazy clouds as we cruised the great river back to “civilization”. Docking back in Iquitos, we picked up some luggage we had left behind to make our trip to the Amazon a bit easier. With several hours to kill before our flights, our guide Guido asked if we might like a drink and a bite to eat. Obviously, we opted for the drink.

Our driver dropped us on to the promenade near a modern, multi level hotel. As exited the van, I smirked at Ama and knew exactly what she was thinking. Our English friends Mick and Caroline who we’d met on the train to Machu Picchu had implored us to go to a lovely rooftop bar in Iquitos. They said it was on the promenade atop a nicer, new hotel. Looking down the street in both directions, I thought with some certainty we were in the very spot they had mentioned without even asking to go there.

Sure enough, as soon as we got to the bar, it was clear that this was the place they had shown us in their photographs. We’d met these folks by chance on the train, then ran into them days later in Cusco, and now we were being delivered to their recommended rooftop bar without so much as lifting a finger. I sure wish we had thought to get their contact information. Hell, we didn't even exchange last names.

I slugged down a pair of ice cold Cusqueñas and watched the promenade below and the marsh beyond that rolls to the edges of the Amazon. We chatted with Guido and our traveling companions catching a ride to the airport. I marveled at the reality that we had really been up that gargantuan river, that I had splashed its water on my face and pulled a piranha from its depths.

It had been a true adventure, but the time had come to begin the journey homeward.

Cheers,
Matty C