And now, the 1 week Amazon epic. With a couple of friends I journeyed east of Quito into the "oriental", starting with Tena, the capital of Napo province.
As is classic with epic journeys of old we started at the crack of dawn, in fact in that darkest hour just before dawn. We scrambled into the taxi bound for the station in pitch black. The bus tickets to Tena, which my German friends, Ushi & Marlein bought were for a 6.10am departure!! Despite our vigilance with the early start, the Quito bus station was was congested and it took us a while to leave the taxi. The "hijo de p**a" driver charged us an extortionate $5 for a journey that is normally worth $3. (Our host family normally book trustworthy "co-operativos" or taxi companies who charge fair but somebody provided me with a compelling theory that other co-operativos listen in on radio calls and steal business!).
Spider monkey in a tree near Liana Lodge
My Argentinian bus station experience reminded me about the unpredictability of bus platforms and timings. Amidst the confusion of finding the damn bus I realised that I needed a leak ( because I chugged down papaya, yogurt and coffee an hour before....easily 1 litre worth of water!). I rushed back, 1 litre lighter, and brandishing a packet of crackers to cure the journey munchies, to find that the ladies weren't at the platform. I then saw Ushi coming to meet me and directing me to the bus that was dangerously parked along the exit road. Marlien was already inside and thus began 2o minutes of confusion, paranoia and disbelief.
On the way to Liana Lodge on the River Arajuno
Some dude was blocking the way into the bus talking incomprehensibly to Ushi. He then turned to me and asked me if I spoke Spanish (no idea why....he was asking me in Spanish....it was too early for sarcasm). On my response, yes, he let us in. Inside we met a distraught Marlien. She announced that her bag had gone missing! It seemed absurd considering that she had just got in. As the story goes, someone had helped her put it on the overhead rack but some others pushed in, separating her from the bag. A couple of minutes after she saw that the bag was not on the rack anymore, I must have been talking to blabbermouth at the bus entrance. I tried to raise the alarm with the bus driver but he was unsympathetic. In fact he started driving the bus, and the conductor was equally apathetic though he promised to check the underside storage to see if the bag had been shifted there. You see, we were still at the stage of denial having searched the bus up and down! The bag wasn't underneath and the making of the cunning theft job became more and more apparent to me. Blabbermouth, aka "Ladron #1" (ladron = thief), was buying time as his no doubt lovely assistant, Ladron #2, made a run for it with the loot. This prevented Marlien from alerting us on the outside and perhaps apprehending Ladron #2 and, who knows, possibly a Ladron #3. There was no time for any Sherlock Holmes sh*t, but I had initially suspected that the driver and conductor must have been in on the job because they wouldn't have otherwise let ticketless people in ( and for that matter let them block the entrance!) and they usually have a passenger manifest. In the end I conceded that they just are plain indifferent and don't care about the image of their bus company. Their heartless behaviour seemed to show, in my mind, that this was a routine operation on gullible passengers, without much commitment by the authorities to protect passengers, and that if a "gringeño" (slang for european/north american foreigner plus a couple of aussies and kiwis in the mix) is mugged then, hey, its a victory for the poor (just an inconvenience for the gringeño) in this vicious capitalist cycle.
"Puerto" Rio Barantilla and the river island
Marlein, obviously shocked, calmed down after reassurances and suggestions from us. It's amazing how, after mental stock checking ones stolen stuff, one realises how worthless material goods really are in the bigger scheme of things. The only thing she needed to do was to cancel her bank card using Ushi's phone. So the adventure into the "selva" (jungle) had truly began! Quito was foggy and chilly as we left but the lack of cloud the night before promised a shift in our weather fortune. The road to Tena is very interesting. The bus had to climb further up the Andes (up to 4800m!!) past the snowy Mt. Antisan (standing at about 5700m) before descending into the steamy, tree congested river valleys that feed the great Amazon river through Ecuador and Peru then Brazil. From ear popping, desert dry, cactus ridden highlands to the moist, leafy valley bottom, we wound round hills and passes in 6 hours. All manner of foods and snacks were sold on the bus by hop-on hop-off vendors including one afro-Ecuadorian dude who instantly started talking to me (he was impressed that I came so far, as a tourist, and I equally joked with him - what the hell are you doing in this bug infested hell hole, my brother??).
A lodge hidden away in the vegetation around River Arajuno
For some 1 or 2 hours my now famous bladder was in agony until a routine checkpoint allowed me to rush to the loo! Change of conditions, lack of sleep and crowding made it hard to catch up on my 3hours of sleep last night. I stripped down my layers and I was on t-shirt mode when got to Tena.
Lush and green....
The Tena bus station was a mess of a place. In fact the main street looked like a past gold rush town with all manner of buildings at different stages of construction and already in use. A quick background: Tena sprouted after a boom in the minerals, petroleum and logging businesses many decades ago. We just had enough time to get Marlein some new clothes and catch a bus to Puerto Rio Barantilla within 45 minutes. I have no idea what happened when I bought the ticket that was good for 3 people. I had just one seat reserved and ended up standing for most of the journey! Even when I did sit down (after a few passengers jumped off), my eyes were tired, the sweeping view of endless forest made me drowsy and they were playing an awful teen movie, Nancy Drew. The carnival was starting so the fun part of the journey was seeing people getting pelted with water. Actually it was a relief as it was pretty hot in the bus (I was "annihilated" by super-soaker water jet fire on the way back to Tena when I foolishly left the door - I was near the entrance - wide open near a village).
Our humble abode at Liana....
We were dropped off at our "destination" and we had to find the "Port" Rio Barantilla where the lodge boat transport would "pick us up". We had told the lodge we would be there by 4pm but we were 1 and a half hours early. We reached the bank of the River Arajuno, which feeds the River Napo, one of the main tributaries of the Amazon river basin. A little Quechua girl with small surf board greeted us at the bank and continued into the forest. Caramba! It was modest port indeed! We chilled at the bank observing some people in a dug-out canoe transporting plantain. Also, on a river island we saw some girls washing clothes and it was interesting seeing them thumping fabric on some smooth rocks. I tried to take a photo but they were playfully and shyly looking away.
The bank of the River Aranjuno: Plantain transport
Our boat arrived early and down river we went towards Liana ("liana" means vine) Lodge. Liana Lodge turned out to be Germania Zentrum. Most of the guests booked in for the weekend were German, plus most of the staff (majority of which are Quechua) could speak some German! From Majorca to Mombasa to Napo you will find German tourist outposts......my friends were excited by this little luxury but I was appalled by the brash imposition of German as the lingua franca and lack of effort to communicate with non-German speaking guests aka myself (I'm speaking of the German tourists only here, and to some respect the Swiss customer relations girl). The lodge itself is a gem as I will soon describe. For now I napped for 2 continuous hours before dinner.
To save me from other nasty insects.......it's supafly!! (can u diggit?!)
K.
On the way to Liana Lodge on the River Arajuno
Some dude was blocking the way into the bus talking incomprehensibly to Ushi. He then turned to me and asked me if I spoke Spanish (no idea why....he was asking me in Spanish....it was too early for sarcasm). On my response, yes, he let us in. Inside we met a distraught Marlien. She announced that her bag had gone missing! It seemed absurd considering that she had just got in. As the story goes, someone had helped her put it on the overhead rack but some others pushed in, separating her from the bag. A couple of minutes after she saw that the bag was not on the rack anymore, I must have been talking to blabbermouth at the bus entrance. I tried to raise the alarm with the bus driver but he was unsympathetic. In fact he started driving the bus, and the conductor was equally apathetic though he promised to check the underside storage to see if the bag had been shifted there. You see, we were still at the stage of denial having searched the bus up and down! The bag wasn't underneath and the making of the cunning theft job became more and more apparent to me. Blabbermouth, aka "Ladron #1" (ladron = thief), was buying time as his no doubt lovely assistant, Ladron #2, made a run for it with the loot. This prevented Marlien from alerting us on the outside and perhaps apprehending Ladron #2 and, who knows, possibly a Ladron #3. There was no time for any Sherlock Holmes sh*t, but I had initially suspected that the driver and conductor must have been in on the job because they wouldn't have otherwise let ticketless people in ( and for that matter let them block the entrance!) and they usually have a passenger manifest. In the end I conceded that they just are plain indifferent and don't care about the image of their bus company. Their heartless behaviour seemed to show, in my mind, that this was a routine operation on gullible passengers, without much commitment by the authorities to protect passengers, and that if a "gringeño" (slang for european/north american foreigner plus a couple of aussies and kiwis in the mix) is mugged then, hey, its a victory for the poor (just an inconvenience for the gringeño) in this vicious capitalist cycle.
"Puerto" Rio Barantilla and the river island
Marlein, obviously shocked, calmed down after reassurances and suggestions from us. It's amazing how, after mental stock checking ones stolen stuff, one realises how worthless material goods really are in the bigger scheme of things. The only thing she needed to do was to cancel her bank card using Ushi's phone. So the adventure into the "selva" (jungle) had truly began! Quito was foggy and chilly as we left but the lack of cloud the night before promised a shift in our weather fortune. The road to Tena is very interesting. The bus had to climb further up the Andes (up to 4800m!!) past the snowy Mt. Antisan (standing at about 5700m) before descending into the steamy, tree congested river valleys that feed the great Amazon river through Ecuador and Peru then Brazil. From ear popping, desert dry, cactus ridden highlands to the moist, leafy valley bottom, we wound round hills and passes in 6 hours. All manner of foods and snacks were sold on the bus by hop-on hop-off vendors including one afro-Ecuadorian dude who instantly started talking to me (he was impressed that I came so far, as a tourist, and I equally joked with him - what the hell are you doing in this bug infested hell hole, my brother??).
A lodge hidden away in the vegetation around River Arajuno
For some 1 or 2 hours my now famous bladder was in agony until a routine checkpoint allowed me to rush to the loo! Change of conditions, lack of sleep and crowding made it hard to catch up on my 3hours of sleep last night. I stripped down my layers and I was on t-shirt mode when got to Tena.
Lush and green....
The Tena bus station was a mess of a place. In fact the main street looked like a past gold rush town with all manner of buildings at different stages of construction and already in use. A quick background: Tena sprouted after a boom in the minerals, petroleum and logging businesses many decades ago. We just had enough time to get Marlein some new clothes and catch a bus to Puerto Rio Barantilla within 45 minutes. I have no idea what happened when I bought the ticket that was good for 3 people. I had just one seat reserved and ended up standing for most of the journey! Even when I did sit down (after a few passengers jumped off), my eyes were tired, the sweeping view of endless forest made me drowsy and they were playing an awful teen movie, Nancy Drew. The carnival was starting so the fun part of the journey was seeing people getting pelted with water. Actually it was a relief as it was pretty hot in the bus (I was "annihilated" by super-soaker water jet fire on the way back to Tena when I foolishly left the door - I was near the entrance - wide open near a village).
Our humble abode at Liana....
We were dropped off at our "destination" and we had to find the "Port" Rio Barantilla where the lodge boat transport would "pick us up". We had told the lodge we would be there by 4pm but we were 1 and a half hours early. We reached the bank of the River Arajuno, which feeds the River Napo, one of the main tributaries of the Amazon river basin. A little Quechua girl with small surf board greeted us at the bank and continued into the forest. Caramba! It was modest port indeed! We chilled at the bank observing some people in a dug-out canoe transporting plantain. Also, on a river island we saw some girls washing clothes and it was interesting seeing them thumping fabric on some smooth rocks. I tried to take a photo but they were playfully and shyly looking away.
The bank of the River Aranjuno: Plantain transport
Our boat arrived early and down river we went towards Liana ("liana" means vine) Lodge. Liana Lodge turned out to be Germania Zentrum. Most of the guests booked in for the weekend were German, plus most of the staff (majority of which are Quechua) could speak some German! From Majorca to Mombasa to Napo you will find German tourist outposts......my friends were excited by this little luxury but I was appalled by the brash imposition of German as the lingua franca and lack of effort to communicate with non-German speaking guests aka myself (I'm speaking of the German tourists only here, and to some respect the Swiss customer relations girl). The lodge itself is a gem as I will soon describe. For now I napped for 2 continuous hours before dinner.
To save me from other nasty insects.......it's supafly!! (can u diggit?!)
K.
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