Day 9

Day 9, Back to Manaus
Gino was in a typically brisk mood today, skimming round the camp sorting everyone's breakfast out and singing. Leo and Emma were a bit peaky so the four of us finished it off. Slowly dawned on me that this was our last day in the jungle. Had to look around and soak it all up, but I'm sure none of us will ever forget the great times we have had here and the sensation of being in the Amazon rainforest.

And these great times would have been nowhere near as good without the people we were with; the guides, and Phil and Emma. I can't believe we've only known Phil + Emma for four days. From the first moment they went out of their way to accomadate us and, as a couple, didn't seem to mind us being around constantly. They were fantastic all through the tour, from lending me money half an hour after meeting them to Phil going on trips for popcorn on the coach back. I guess they won't read this but every one of their gestures really meant a lot and we'll both miss being with them. I suppose this abrupt way of meeting people is the nature of travelling but I'm sure we'll stay in touch.

The rain fell again on our return trek, less spectacularly than before but steady nonetheless. The rain kept the monkeys away but it was the intricacies of the jungle which interested me most all the way through; the small sounds and movements bouncing off each other in every area. I saw a butterfly at one point that looked like it was made of black wire mesh, the odd gap filled with a yellow or red spot. As it twisted and flipped in the rain I recalled N Hawthorne's perpetually moving butterfly which couldn't have been more beautiful than this one. A few months back I was amazed to read of scientists translating monkey speech and working out what they were saying. Of course the indigenous people here have known how to communicate with them for centuries at least, and Leo and Gino tried to get us a glimpse of one by calling "I'm over here and I'm alone". Any animal that whistles and calls they can imitate.

The return to camp was dampened, both literally by the rain and figuratively by the unavoidable finality of our stay. Still we had a fair few hours to pass and started chatting to the new arrivals over a fittingly delicious lunch, topped by mash potato which the Irish loved. Met two Danish guys who'd been eating in McDonalds in Rio (this saddened me), and one guy frmo NYC who was doing a circle of South America - cool guy, and our hostel owner's family. Before lunch we managed to fit in one last Amazon swim, jumping in off various trees and huts.

In the afternoon we were again shown the artisanship of our hosts, though what they have shown us probably barely scratches the surface of what they are actually capable of. With Leo starting us off we hollowed out bamboo. He then made mouthpieces whilst Gino made some darts, finished into arrows by Leo. Suddenly we had our own blow-pipes. I'm proud of mine even though I did virtually nothing to make it. There was just enough time before we left for me to whip out with Francisco and catch a piranha, finally. Then as we packed Antonio bought us a couple of beers each, one to sip as we clambered onto the big canoe and sped off. The journey was fairly non-descript other then just savouring the river and surroundings for the last time at close quarters, and seeing a tiny nightclub with only a woman and (presumably) her baby inside in a small riverside village.

In wildlife watch today I saw a wild chicked, tiny frogs, loads of butterflies, two vultures, more lizards, massive birds, a giant cricket and a big bold eagle getting beat up by swallows. Also a giant wasp flew past my head, and Antonio tells me they make grown men cry.

Having left I'll try and surmise what was great about the camp and jungle. First Antonio, he is just a brilliant man who's heart is with people and the jungle. I was tempted to ask for another week but I know I'll be back here to see him soon. The people here have a brilliant, and effective, simplicity and affinity with nature that shines through in so many ways; the swift and precise flat-hand slap to deal with any thing that lands on them, imitating all the wild sounds almost intrinsically, silently powering a full canoe and propelling it in whatever direction, whipping fish out of the river at will, weaving a vine into a fire-fan/roof/origami cicada with the hands of a quilter, singing the first words that come to mind in random, linear songs (ok this was just Gino).

There is a prosaic, earthly goodness which runs through everything, and also a clear enjoyment of it all. Why should they leave the jungle to go anywhere else? This assured character comes from the jungle itself. Its variance, its suprises and ragged splendour. As we only saw the tip of their skill, we only ventured into the very start of the Amazon. Now we've left I'm already planning my way back. Brilliant times, beautiful memories.