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Oct 20th Peru Part 4: Glamping In The Amazon

When people think of The Amazon, they get images of dangerous animals and impenetrable bush. Man eating cats and bold men, like Sasha Siemel. I was surprised to find that some of the nicest accomodation of my trip was in the middle of the jungle just a few miles (as the parrot flies) from where Paul Rosalie makes camp.

We flew from Cusco to Puerto Maldonado, a town on the edge of the Amazon. I had been to the edge of the amazon before. Just rubbing elbows with it had resulted in a hostel robbery, a symphony of puking men, and a bus ride that I consider a brush with death. This time I was much further south, and hoping it would be a little more relaxed. We stepped out of the airport, shocked at how hot it was outside, just a gross, wet heat. The micro van was no less hot as it snaked its way through the city to the hotel. This city was deep inland, nearly in Bolivia, but the flip flop clad motorcycle riders had a real island vibe so did the big palms lining the streets. We got checked into our hotel and explored town a bit. The only notable things from that first day are my big chicken lunch and then going last for a shower and noticing that no one in the group turned on the electric water heater, so I was the only one who got a lukewarm shower instead of a cold one.

Late morning we hauled our gear to Jungle Pros and were told to separate out the essentials, as though my backpack was full of luxuries. We left as much as we could in a storage closet and the rest was tossed onto a long skinny boat. We were introduced to our guide, the boatman, and a lovely swiss couple who would be joining us for the trip. I don’t know if I was ever told their names, but I do know I don’t know their names now. They were friendly people and were making their way all around South America and eventually up to Canada in a Land Rover with a rooftop tent. A brave endeavor if ever there was one. I was, naturally, quite envious of this. But, to be fair, I am envious of anyone doing anything that isn’t working or sitting around… actually sitting around is kind of nice too.

Once we were prepped and loaded, the big outboard motor hummed us upriver. Along the banks we spotted howler monkeys and capybaras and were treated to a delicious lunch of fried rice with tofu and veggies. I’m not usually a fan of tofu, but like any great meal, the atmosphere and company played a role. We passed our intended camp and went ashore where we were handed rubber boots to march into the jungle. It wasn’t a long walk and it ended at a little lake with another boat, a raft with a deck across two hulls, each about the size of a canoe. A bunch of us took turns paddling at the back of the boat until we got to our fishing spot, a task I was eager to volunteer for because I like to feel involved and it distracted me from my upset stomach. We were then handed long branches with about six feet of fishing line, a wire leader and a single hook at the end. A pale piece of beef was pulled from a plastic grocery bag and cubed into small pieces with a dull machete. We put the cubes on the hooks and the hooks in the water. I don’t know who caught the first piranha that day, but it was sure exciting when they did. Its a very human reaction to pull a fishing pole up, see a toothy fish come at you, then swing it away… right at someone else in the boat. For about half an hour we were best described as a flying piranha regatta. Probably not the right use of regatta but exceptions get made when it has a nice ring to it. It is my belief that I caught the largest fish of the day, though, being to gentleman that I am, I didn’t brag about it until now. I also only caught one, they are very much like perch, a surprisingly gentle bite and will steal your bait if you aren’t fast enough. In that same lake we witnessed a family of giant otters playing, we were close enough I could hear one slurping and crunching as it ate a fish. We got to our camp after dark and were shown to our cabins. I thought there had been a mistake, it had a porch, queen sized beds, and a high pressure shower with hot water. Rather uptown for a fellow like me.

Despite our fancy accommodations, I was forced out of bed at 3am for the days events. We loaded back into the boat, like a family into a station wagon on a cold Christmas morning. Tired, wrapped in blankets, excited for what the day held. It was well before daylight and we were warned against using our phones or headlamps as the driver needed to retain his night vision. So, I stared at the stars while the boat hummed us upstream for two hours with little more than moonlight to guide us.

As day was breaking, we unloaded and scrambled across some rocks on a sandbar, the guides set up spotting scopes and chairs. We felt very far from civilization, but there were probably 40 other people there from different tours. We watched the birds come in, land on the cliffs, and lick the clay. The guide had told us they do this for the salt. Once the early morning action died down, we had some breakfast and found our way back to camp.

I had an afternoon nap as best I could, in the evening we climbed a tower of stairs 50m tall to get above the canopy to get another look at the birds and watch the sun set. I actually didn’t like this much, I dont care for heights and that tower was so tall it had a natural sway to it that kept me clutching the hand rail. We worked our way down the tower and were given a night tour of the jungle. Our guide used a UV flashlight to point out all the scorpions and spiders hiding on the trees. Many of us used red light headlamps to navigate. A funny thing happened, when we bumped into another group. Both groups crowded around our guide who was showing a glowing scorpion and asked us to turn our lights off. We all did, except one woman in front of me was having trouble, in a sour huff, she swung her headlamp toward me and said “here, honey, I can’t figure this thing out.” Without much thought I took it, clicked the single button on the top and it turned off. I then realized, she probably meant to hand it to her husband, so I offered it to the man beside me who denied being her husband, which then led to a comical game of “is anyone here this woman’s husband?” sheepishly, a man across the group admitted guilt and accepted the headlamp. This led to a joke that lasted over a week in our friend group, usually along the lines of “he’s our boy, get your own”. That evening, after dinner we stayed late in the dining area with our guide and had a long chat. It was clear that he was passionate about his work and knew a lot about the history of the area. To me, that passion is what makes a guide good, that joy of being there and sharing it with people. This is also when he mentioned that he was friends with Paul Rosalie who lived nearby. For those not in the know, he is a conservationist and author who has a very interesting Instagram and has even been on Joe Rogan’s podcast.

The next morning, we said our goodbyes, loaded up, and headed out. I think a longer trip would have been either exhausting, or require enough downtime to turn boring. Two nights was the right amount. We got lunch in town and then hit the airport again, this time flying to Arequipa via Cusco. The airline lost Renata’s luggage and we got to the apartment late. Her luggage was eventually found and returned, for dinner we went to a sushi restaurant and because I don’t know sushi, I told the waitress to surprise me. It ended up being another amazing meal on this trip.

Technical data

The jungle trip was Natalie’s idea, and it a darn good one at that. We used a company called Jungle Pro they are highly rated on google, trip advisor and every other rating website I can think of. The lovely swiss couple are documenting their trip via Instagram on their account RustyGary (the name of their Land Rover), I’m sure they’d appreciate a follow and are always posting interesting content from their travels.

Posted in Fishing, Photo Drop, Travel and tagged adventure, amazon, backpacking, bird watching, jungle, Outdoors, travelwith 2 comments.