taking a moment

Whoa Nelly, I didn't realize the time. Nope. Sure didn't. I didn't realize I've been staring at this screen for at least 30 minutes, trying to grab hold of some outlandish or even slightly interesting way to open up the Amazon Basin chapter, but alas I am stumped. Shake it as I might, this tiny noggin has nothing to contribute, I think it's tired, me old tete. Poor creature, always having to carry the rest of me with it's thoughts and analysis and direction and such. Perhaps this is why I spent the final hour of work walking back and forth from computer to printer, back to computer to press print, back to printer to refill paper... and on and on until I just stood still. Stopped. Dead. And person behind me plowed into my rear but it didn't really matter. I needed a moment. So I took it, at the expense of some poor random boy who was looking a bit sheepish for smashing into me. Sigh, poor thing.

But then I suppose I did the same in Tambopata National Park. I took a moment at the expense of possibly experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity. I skipped out, which as you know, I am most wonderfully good at, and I do not apologize for having this talent. Aux contraire, petits amis... I adore it. (please don't tell my Dad)

the lodge

You see our little eco-lodge, Posada Amazonas, was bustling with jungle activities and walks and talks and such. Three- days and two nights of activities. And as much as it was great for the busy bodied and insanely inquisitive minded beings in our foursome (momma, long-legs) a little quiet time spent swinging in a hammock and not having to discuss this or that, or meet anyone new, or discuss where we were from and where we were going, well it was far too mischievous to pass up.

no more monkeys jumping on the bed

I did walk up the enormous flight of stairs in the middle of the jungle, through three levels of vegetation, to sit on top of the world gazing out at an ocean of treetops. Through the jungle we marched, sighting monkeys and leaf cutting ants, and soldier ants, and hearing the cries of forlorn jungle animals, out there, somewhere. But mostly I liked listening from my hammock, marinating in the sounds of the jungle, and the smell of torrential rains hitting giant leaves, and dirt, making thick stewy mud that sucked off your rubber boots.

Canopy Tower

But there was pirahna fishing, and I couldn't miss out on that. I was anticipating blood thirsty creatures and being able to use a leg of lamb to hook them. I pictured accidently cutting my finger and the little devils eagerly chomping after me. But that's what hollywood will do to your imagination... screws with you.

Cheating Pirahna fisherwoman

As you will see from the photo, these were not something one needed to fear. They couldn't smell our blood, or our fear. They were only interested in tiny bits of meat attached to the hook. And just for the record Long Legs didn't catch that little guy. Jesus did. Jesus our guide, not the biblical fellow. This one's name rhymed with, bay juice, pronounced "HEY ZEUS"-- more greek than biblical really.

Anyway, he baited the bloodsucker and once it was hooked slyly passed the rod to the Blond so she could have all the glory. Why reveal the truth behind the photo? Because anything she can do, I can do too, and I couldn't hook a fish. Boo. Which in reality is probably a good thing, as I don't think catch and release is very nice... I wouldn't like it if someone enticed me with juicy piece of chocolate, only to jab a hook in my mouth and then shove me underwater (the reverse of a fish out of water) then take a photo with me and just when I'm starting to see my doom, throw me back to life. It's a bit rude, really.

The many types of greenery in the jungle

The final activity I joined was a visit with a local shaman. I know what you're thinking... half-naked brown guy wearing beads and speaking in tongues... damn hollywood again- this guy was wearing a "te Quiero Peru" (I love peru) tee shirt with jeans and dirty runners. He was short and older, with a crooked grin and a tendency to hunch his shoulders. If you saw him on the street you might think he was a farmer, not a medicine man. He was very matter of fact in the way he walked us through his garden-an overrun jungle with a strangled path running through it. He pointed out plants and explained how & what they cured. Impotency, heartache, aging, cancer-- the big four, so the next time you're feeling heartbroken, flacid, old or sick, hop a plane to the Amazon, it's much nicer than the pharmacy. Warmer and far more relaxing.

Our rooms before bed