The next morning, someone was calling “Choro!” at the indecent hour of 5 o’clock. I grumpily grunted some indistinguishable words of recognition and rolled over. Before I knew it, it was nearly time for breakfast and I had to throw on my incredibly unsuitable black joggers, a vest-top and my thick grey Aeropostal hoody and run to the dining room.
After breakfast, I was the first one ready out of the group of eleven, giving me a chance to chat with the new guide, Alex. On finding out that my name was Georgina, he insisted on calling me the Spanish version, which is incredibly ugly and pronounced Hey-or-hee-na. I protested but it was no use; it wasn’t long before he was calling me Jorge (Hor-hey).
The first part of our tour consisted of a short boat ride along Madre de Dios to a point further along the bank. From there, we were led on foot through the jungle to a smaller river, where we boarded a long wooden canoe. Alex immediately called me to the front and told me to get onto the boat first, which wasn’t ideal as I’m sure it was less balanced with no people in it, and I’m not exactly renowned for my elegance. When the rest of the group had got on in their twos, the people in the middle were handed oars and Alex skillfully walked along the edge of the canoe to get to the back, from where he would row to navigate us along the channel.
It was quite nice being at the back at first, as I got to chat in Spanish with Alex and he pointed out all the different species of animals and plants to me on the way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t long before he started asking me awkward questions like if I had a boyfriend and if I was staying alone. When he started telling me I was beautiful, I got even more suspicious. Being the object of the guides’ obsessions can have its advantages and he did pick me a beautiful waterlily from the river. He also made me a much-needed sun-hat from the leaves of the elephant plant on the banks. It was at this point that I realised I needed to put some repellent on, and, try as I might, I couldn’t hide the fact that I was struggling to apply it to my back. At first I declined his offer of help, but then conceded that I didn’t really have much choice; it was that, or get bitten to death. This might have actually been the better option.
On the plus side, I did get to see a lot more wildlife than the rest of the group; although apparently I had very good eyes myself (which he also described as very beautiful - not a cliche at all...) I saw some beautiful birds, caimans, monkeys and butterflies, and we even heard a huge roar, which Alex identified as a jaguar.
I was somewhat relieved to get out of the conversation with Alex when Olga started to speak to me in German. We were chatting for ages and I was glad that I was still able to converse easily enough. I decided to stay closer to her and the rest of the group and further from Alex when we got to the shore.
What I hadn’t accounted for was the fact that, being at the back of the boat, I would automatically be the last one to get off, and before I knew it, the rest of the group had gone ahead, leaving me with jungle man. He randomly asked me if anyone else in the group spoke Spanish; in hindsight, I should definitely have lied and said they did, because that would have stopped him from saying what he said next. I won’t repeat it, but it was a pretty inappropriate suggestion on any level, let alone considering he was a member of staff...
When we all re-grouped on the other side of the swamp, I managed to escape Alex and fall in at the back. We now had a 5km hike back to the main river, looking out for wildlife and plants on the way. Amongst other things, we saw some more incredible trees; I had a photo taken of me hugging one which was about twenty times the width of me. We also stopped to observe the strangest tree I’ve ever seen; it’s called a Cashapona, or Walking Palm, and its roots stand on the surface of the soil. Apparently, this is so it can literally walk to follow the sunlight (several centimetres each year). However, my brief Internet research has revealed a lot of theories in opposition of this. I’m not sure whether to trust the scientists or the people who actually live there; either way, they’re pretty weird trees.
The most amazing thing we saw on the walk was something I’d been hoping to see - but from a very safe distance. We’d seen several tarantula nests over the previous few days, but this time, the guide was able to tempt one to come out. I nearly had a heart attack; it was huge, black and hairy, just as I’d feared. I was glad I’d seen one, but I never wanted to see one again.
After a couple of hours’ walk in the close heat of the afternoon, we were all tired and overheated, so it was a relief when we arrived at the river bank. A short boat ride later, we arrived back at the lodge, giving me time to shower and jump in the pool before lunch. I found Emma and Luis at the poolside so was able to catch up with them. After lunch, I lay in one of the hammocks overlooking the river and napped in the shade.
When my alarm went off a couple of hours later, I was in a daze and almost didn’t recognise the tone; it took me a good few minutes for me to identify it as my alarm, figure out where I was and eventually come round. I made my way to the main reception, where we were meant to be meeting to go on a tour of the lodge gardens. Unfortunately, when I arrived, there was only one other person there out of the entire group; everyone else was obviously too tired and had decided to sleep through the afternoon instead.
The Swedish woman who had turned up was busy talking to one of the guys on reception about ayahuasca, a powerful hallucinogen that our lodge was well-known for. Word had already got round that her husband (or partner, I’m not sure which) was here especially to do the drug, and came several times a year for a few days for the same purpose. I was surprised to find out that his calm and gentile-looking partner was going to try it out too. It’s a natural hallucinogen found in the Amazon rainforest; nevertheless, it’s dangerous to consume it without the help of a shaman. At EcoAmazonia lodge, a skilled shaman comes to hold the ayahuasca ceremony in a special ceremonial room slightly outside the complex.
I was interested to know the effects of taking it - if it wasn’t dangerous, I’d be tempted to take it myself, to get the full jungle experience. The Swedish woman and the guys on reception started telling me about the spiritual revelations brought about by taking the drug - about finding deep insights into life and the universe, and even spiritual enlightenment. There have even been cases of contact with the dead, which I shuddered at - but the Swedish told me she had already had contact with dead relatives and that it was something truly beautiful. I’m not sure the spirit world is something I want to mess with, and I’m fairly convinced that seeing any of my recently-deceased relatives would bring me the opposite of inner peace.
The most disturbing part for me was hearing about the fact that, particularly on the first consumption of ayahuasca, drinkers are forced to confront their fears, which appear vividly before them. I asked lightly if this would mean confronting a giant spider, and the Swedish lady nodded solemnly. I wasn’t sure this was my idea of fun. I’d also heard around the lodge that it is recommended to take the drug for at least three consecutive days in order to feel the full benefits, and wanted to know what would happen if you took it for just one night (since I only had one night left). I was told that the first experience is very often an unpleasant one and can leave the drinker with feelings of temporary emotional and psychological distress, which didn’t sound fun at all. Not only that, but most people experience nausea, diarrhea and cold flashes, and vomit violently one hour after consumption. Alex told me that if I was going back into civilization the next day, it wasn’t ideal. I decided I’d leave my spiritual enlightenment for another time.
When it became clear that no one else was coming, the three of us set off on our little tour. On our way, I was shocked to see three gorgeous baby monkeys playing in one of the nearby trees; one of them came right down to the ground and let Alex stroke him. Alex told me to go closer, and before I knew it, I was sitting on the floor playing with the adorable baby red capuchin monkey. Alex told us that the lodge had started feeding the monkeys when their mother had died and the poor things had been left orphaned. I could barely tear myself away when it was time to move on.
We’d only walked a few strides when I realised that the baby monkey, whose name was Miguel, was following us. Before I knew what was happening, Miguel was climbing up my leg and sitting on my shoulder, his tail wrapped closely around my neck for balance. He stayed like that for the whole tour, his little furry hands snatching playfully towards all the fruits and flowers that Alex picked to show us, particularly a beautiful fuchsia-coloured flower that Alex gave me to match my pink top.
Now I had my pet monkey, the garden tour seemed fairly dull in comparison, especially when we came across more animals tamed by the lodge - three different types of brightly-coloured parrots, which allowed me to touch them gently on the head. Nevertheless, it was interesting to discover all the different varieties of tree and plant that grew right within the complex - red bananas, pineapples, turmeric, basil, papaya, mandarin, and trees with all kinds of purposes, from the Muira Puama herb, which acts as a natural viagra, to a Dragon Blood Tree, so-called because of its thick, red sap which has healing properties.
When we’d toured the entire premises, it was time to say goodbye to my monkey friend - but every time I put him on the ground, he followed me again. Eventually, a man had to come out with a bunch of bananas to tempt him away.
On the way back up to the reception, Alex switched to Spanish again and tried to convince me to meet him at the hammocks after dinner that night. Turning people down is uncomfortable enough on a night out, let alone in broad daylight without the chance of a quick escape. I muttered something about it not being a good idea and tried to get away, but he said he would wait for me. As mean as I’d feel, I’d just have to stand him up.
I was writing my diary this evening, lying face-down on the bed next to mine, when the worst thing happened. I’d been lying there for about an hour and had just written the word ‘tarantula’ when I happened to look up; there, on my bed, less than a metre away from me, was a brown, hairy, hideous tarantula.
I tried to stay calm enough to ease myself away from it without making it jump, and even managed to think sensibly enough to remember to put on some insect repellent (and some clothes) before leaving the room. I attempted to take a photo, but not wanting to get very close or use flash in case I shocked it into scuttling out of sight, the picture just turned out a brown blur. I think I was shaking too much to make it come out well, and after one failed attempt decided I’d been in close proximity for far too long, and ran to reception.
Arriving at reception, I did my best not to sound hysterical as I told one of the guys about my unwelcome intruder. He looked slightly amused, and when one of the other guys shouted over about my phobia, they all had a good chuckle at my expense. Luckily, on seeing that I was genuinely quite distressed, one of the guys asked me to lead him to my bungalow, spider-catching equipment in hand (a plastic bag).
When we arrived, I told him where it was and said, “You first”. I panicked when he said he couldn’t see anything, worrying it had scuttled away somewhere out of sight. There was no choice but to go in - and, sure enough, it was still lurking on the corner of the bed, camouflaged in the shadows of the bed sheet. I told the guy where it was and vacated the area.
A good few minutes later, he reemerged and emptied the bag into the bushes. I hoped to God he had actually caught the horrible monster and wasn’t just pretending. When I asked him if he could make sure there was nothing else hiding in the darkness, he made a vague notion of looking around the room before saying nonchalantly that everything was fine. Considering I had previously been assured nothing could possibly get into my room, this did not fill me with confidence.
At dinner, I told everyone about my ordeal and word soon got round to Alex, who said he would protect me if I came and stayed in his room - how reassuring. After I’d eaten, I went over to Luis and Emma, who’d been put on the other side of the room this time, and tried to make it obvious I’d be spending the evening with them. We had a quiet evening chatting and drinking cocktails before lights out at 10pm, when we all rushed back to our rooms to get into bed before the electricity cut out and we were left in complete darkness.
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