Week 18: I'm On A Boat

After an extremely good night of sleep to recover from our jungle experience, we treated ourselves to a good breakfast on our last morning in Iquitos. The Australian couple who has been with us in the jungle, Jourdan and Darcy, joined Elisabeth and I before they headed off to the airport for their flight back to Lima.

Our journey wasn't going to be anywhere near as quick or conventional. The boats leaving from Iquitos to Yurimaguas, further west, leave daily, so we decided to just turn up at the dock in the afternoon armed with our hammocks and hope that it would all pan out.
As we still had some time to kill we went to the Butterfly Farm on the outskirts of Iquitos - unsurprisingly we had to take a boat to get there. We passed a pleasant afternoon and I was actually very interested to find out about the life cycle of butterflies and moths, and to see some of nature's most impressive camouflage. I also found out that once a moth has turned into a moth it never actually eats - just drinks, sleeps and does the dirty.

The site was also an animal sanctuary with many different specimens who had sort of ended up there by accident. There is a jaguar which is housed here and although the owner of the sanctuary applied to move him to a more suitable home in the jungle in Brazil, the Peruvian government denied her application and she had very little choice but to look after him.

Inadequate roofing

After buying a few essentials for the boat we headed down to the dock and were shown on to a relatively nice boat with 2 proper decks for hanging hammocks. Here I must admit we were a little lazy (also I didn't want to plummet to the floor during the night) so we asked some Americans who were with Peruvian friends to help us hang our hammocks. A wasted effort on all parts it transpired, as after moving berth we were told we needed to change to another boat as that one wasn't leaving that day. It was a serious downgrade. There was only one proper covered deck and the top deck had a tarp over it for about a third as the only protection from the elements. Very little protection I must say. All the same Elisabeth and I hung our hammocks on the top deck with the American/Peruvian group.

Jay and I just before he got off the boat

We set off at about 2130 after a couple of false starts.
I have noticed since travelling that when it comes to meeting people and making friends it is almost like being back on holiday as a child, before you got too cool to make friends on holiday. Jay from Nevada was the perfect example. Some friendships are only meant for a day or two and you wouldn't want to spoil them by making them more than they are. I spent most of the first evening and next day talking to Jay about all sorts. He was about to go and live with Luis and his family in a small village in the Amazon for several months as part of their family. I found it really interesting.

The first night it absolutely peed it down and our flimsy tarp proved to be insufficient. I woke up a few times. The first time I put my waterproof on against the wind and then again at about 0500, to find that almost the whole deck had cleared and many people had moved below to the horribly crowded deck. I decided to stick it out, despite the fact that my hammock was soaked through. It was more appealing than the claustrophobic conditions below. It paid off in the end.

Hammock selfie...

The first whole day was passed pretty pleasantly as nobody really ventured up to the top deck despite the sunshine and fresh air. It was also on this day that we met two Peruvian children who thought it was hilarious to mock us. In the evening Elisabeth, Jay and I played cards with the children, although as none of our Spanish is amazing it was pretty difficult to explain the rules - so we mostly played Go Fish (or Vamos a Pescar). At about 2300 Jay and his family alighted with their Peruvian friends in a tiny village, and I slept pretty soundly in my hammock, wrapped up well in warm clothes. I was beginningto get used to sleeping in a hammock and was becoming very attached to my colourful new home.

We awoke on the final morning to realise that was precisely what it wasn't: the final morning. In true Peruvian style everyone had been particularly vague about when we would arrive in Yurimaguas, but we managed to establish at the very least that it wouldn't be until the following day. I can't say I minded too much. I passed a blissful day in my hammock reading The Hunchback of Notredame and chatting with my new neighbours. As well as a Spanish couple, I was befriended by many many Peruvian men who were all giving me tips on where to go in Peru, as well as complimenting me on my Spanish (not necessary - I know it's pants). Before they left they insisted I had a picture with them all, so it would be rude not to publish it for the world to see. It was also sadly the end of one journey for my Baby-G watch which was unwillingly rehomed at some time between 0107 and 0450. Probably by a member of the crew on the prowl for easily stealable items. My only consolation is that if he tries to turn the alarm off he will probably just set a new one (which is what I did) and I hope that he will be perpetually confused as to why day of the week it is, as in 5 or so years of having the watch it was always two days out and I never managed to change it.

My new fan group

The third and final night was much clearer than the first two so I lay by myself on the deck for a while and watched the sky - it was only just past full moon so still quite bright - and I was richly rewarded with two shooting stars. The view of the sky was similar to how it had been in the salt flats - virtually no light pollution and therefore more stars than a person could ever even hope to count.


The food on the boat had been a double edged sword - naturally we were served chicken and rice for every meal, but in almost every tiny village people came rushing on board with fresh fruit and other culinary delights. I tried grubs for the first time (no idea how Pumba does it - I reckon they would be just about palatable if you BBQd the life out of them), ate at least 2 fresh mangos every day, tried fresh coconut - I'm a fan of the flesh but not the milk, devoured a shameful amount of popcorn and tried other fruits too and ate too many churros (a bit like doughnuts). I also tried yucca beer. Without disgusting you it is basically other peoples saliva containing alcohol from three times chewed Yuca. Whilst on this topic I need to tell you a little anecdote which helps demonstrate very clearly how things are in Peru. People will always tell you what you want to hear. Without exception. So I had been craving an empanada for a few days (an empanada is a bit like a pastie - the best ones are really in Argentina but I really wanted one) and when a guy came on with a basket of empanadas we had the following conversation:

Me "empanadas?"
Him "si" (yes) - so far so good
Me "pollo?" (Chicken?) - I didn't want chicken obviously, as I had been overloaded with chicken, I was only asking out of interest
Him "si pollo!" (Yes chicken!) - he obviously thought I wanted chicken
Me "Caliente?" (Hot?)
Him "si caliente"
I agreed to buy an empanada and after I had paid I put my hand down to take it. Here is where he said "cuidad! Caliente!" (Careful! It's hot!).

As I touched it I thought it wasn't very hot and then I bit into it. It wasn't a hot chicken empanada. It was a cold vegetable empanada. Which was fine, because I would have bought it anyway, and in fact preferred it to chicken, but it does demonstrate in the simplest form how they will simply tell you what they think you want to hear.


All in all I had loved my experience on the boat (although I suppose that shouldn't come as a surprise to anybody) and when we alighted at half 7 on the third morning I was ready to move onto new things, and to shower.
Elisabeth and I took the bus with David, a Portuguese guy, to Tarapoto, a few hours from Yurimaguas. However after half an hour or so David and I decided to go straight on to Chachapoyas, 7 hours away. Sometimes it is easier to just get all the travelling over with in a big chunk.

The view from Kuelap

The bus journey was beautiful and contained more culinary delights (and some awful bits) as it turned into a massive food swap. I only brought popcorn and pineapple to the table but I got to try yuccabiscuits (smelt and tasted horribly fishy) and a strange sort of pod thing which was a seed encased in sweet edible fluff. I also had chufles for the first time - dried plantain chips. Trust me when I say this is the only good thing you can do with plantain.

We arrived in the evening and went to Chachapoyas Backpackers, a hostel which had been recommended by the spanish couple from the boat. It is one of the nicest hostels I think I have stayed in on my whole trip. Jose and Donna were the most welcoming hosts and there were brilliant facilities and hot(ish) showers which was all very welcome after the sparse facilities on the boat.

Staying in the dormitory was also Joe from Colorado. He invited me to join him and an English couple Andy and Kate, to go for a drink in a rum bar nearby. This hostel also had an abundance of British people in it. I feel guilty saying this made me very happy - sometimes you just need someone to talk to about home and roast dinners.  Anyway we had lovely couple of drinks. And a few horrible ones. One was made out of 7 roots and another one was supposed to be an aphrodisiac - but if you got a whole glass down you I think you would be too ill to have any sexy time anyway.

Beautiful scenery on the drive to Kuelap

The following day I decided at about 0815 to go on the day trip to Kuelap, which left at 0830. Kuelap was a fortress built by the Chachapoyans starting in about 6 century AD and is still quite overgrown, which gives it more of an authentic feel than Machu Picchu.
The tour was almost entirely spanish speaking, I think Peruvians on holiday. Evidently the majority of them had never seen a Westerner, or at least nobody blonde, as I was in quite a lot of pictures both with and without being asked.
In the evening I went out for dinner with another English guy which was enjoyable although I think I blabbered on quite a bit.

The next day I had a day to myself to back up my pictures, relax, write my blog, explore the town, wash 80% of my belongings and fix the other 20%.
That day as I was walking through the town I passed a woman with her son of roughly 4 or 5 years. Just after I had passed them I heard "mama mama mira! Mira mama!" (Mummy mummy look! Look mummy!). I turned around and the little boy was pointing straight at me. I smiled and waved at him, he waved back - I was starting to feel like a celebrity.

Joe told me that the following day he was going to do a walk on an Inca Trail from a nearby village returning to Chachapoyas, so I decided I would go with him, despite the 5am start.
In the morning Joe and I took a collectivo (shared taxi) to a nearby town. Originally there was going to be a third member of our party - an elderly American gentleman named Rick, however despite his best intentions he accepted the fact that the walk was going to be too challenging for him and he returned to the hostel before we took the collectivo.

The ruins of Kuelap

After getting some stuff for lunch in the village we started off on the Inca Trail, which Jose, the owner of the hostel, had assured us was extremely easy to navigate and that it was very obvious which path to take. It was. For the first half an hour. We took one wrong turn and realised after a few minutes that it was the wrong way, so we returned to the main path. Five or ten minutes later it happened again, but this time there was no turning back, the path was just made up of incredibly thick yellow clay like mud. To start with I was quite good at picking my way through the mud. The problem with this - I told Joe - was that pretty soon you get a bit cocky and end up knee deep in mud. Do I need to tell you what happened a few minutes later? It wasn't quite knee deep but it was close enough. Originally my foot stayed completely dry but after trying to pull myself out (with very little help from Joe who was laughing too much) I realised I was going to have to physically dig myself out, and all the water flooded into my shoe. When I was eventually out, and covered almost head to toe in mud, we continued on the path until we reached the road. We realised we were either going to have to back track (not a chance) or walk back on the road. Thankfully it was a quiet road and we got to see some ancient ruins casually sprawled metres from the road.

In the end we did have an enjoyable walk although about 20 of the total 22km home were downhill, which made us both surprisingly sore. We got back about lunchtime and I had to explain to Jose and Donna why I was such a mess. After a nap we headed out for lunch at what had become our local - "cafe fusiones". Naturally I ordered a hot chocolate, although when I asked him to make it a bit more chocolatey he went a bit overboard and I ended up practically drinking liquid chocolate. Not a bad result but not quite what I was after.

The view of the town of Chachapoyas from afar

In the evening I saw Elisabeth again as she had caught up to Chachapoyas from Tarapoto and we managed to swap some pictures from the previous few weeks.  Joe and I went for a few drinks again in the evening, this time with a guy from NZ called Phil who was slightly crazy and a British guy whose name unfortunately escapes me (it was a very sociable week).

Jose, who was particularly talented at convincing people to part with their money, had told us about a trek to "Gran Vilaya" - a more remote area near Chachapoyas with more ruins. There were already a British couple going so Joe and I decided it would be fun to go too. We were all ready to don our Indiana Jones hats the following day...