One More from the Bush // 2nd Feb 2005

Hi all

Yes, I'm still here in the Amazon. And yes, it's fantastic.

Apologies for not keeping you all up to date more often - the internet connection here is about as reliable as you can get when you're in the middle of nowhere. Which isn't very. Plus I'm always off doing things (namely sleeping).

What should I start with? Quite a lot of stuff has happened since I last wrote. Went camping the other day in the deepest depths of the forest, which was spectacular. The sky and the moon have different colours here, and the stars appear a lot closer. Being able to see their reflections on the pure, clear water gently trickling through the forest was somkething quite special. And on the trip across I had a go at spear fishing. By the time I leave I'll be a real Mowgli-type character, able to survive for months in the forest armed with nothing more than a knife and dental floss, whilst dancing and singing songs with a large talking panther. But in the meantime I was crap at spear fishing, with a total of zero fish after quite a few attempts.

Wildlife section... In the past few days I've seen giant otter, caymen, river eagles, loads of fish (some quite tasty), heard howler monkeys, and too many other species to mention. I would send pictures, but the digital camera has taken to not working how it's supposed to. Well, what can you expect for fifteen quid? There'll be a batch of good old fashioned films finding its way back to the UK with Dave soon, the outcome of which I can't wait to see (but I have to wait about 8 months before I can take a peek).

We also saw a five metre (that's about fifteen feet ish) anaconda from the boat. He was just relaxing in the water after having quite a large lunch (we guessed this from the cartoon-style animal shape halfway down his body). One of the guides we were with made him swim away by splashing a bit of water at this little red head, and he just sped across the water (the snake, not the guide. Or he would have been an ex-guide).

There's a new pack of tourists here, mostly Danish, partly American. I think there's 14 altogether, so the place is at maximum capacity. The Danes sure like their alkeehol; some of them have beer at breakfast, and then don't stop all day. Pretty hardcore, might even rival Tim. But they're all fun to be around, with lots of jollity and jokes going on all the time. When this group leaves, along with Mark and Dave, I'll be the only 'tourist' here. Which should be cool, because I'll get to know the local guys a bit better, and improve my grasp on the Portuguese language.

Having such a laid back lifestyle here has worked wonders for my guitaring. I find it hard not to wake up with an idea in my head (although it's harder still to remember it after breakfast). Dave and I are going to have a jam soon too; he's been trying (quite successfully) to pick up some samba beats to give his percussion a Latino feel, while I've been twiddling away to my heart's content.

Insects...Fun...Not... We counted the other day and reckon that I'm approaching 200 bites (I think the figure was around 180). The mozzies love my pale skin. I also picked up a little parasitic thing in the water a few days ago, which was about the size of a cigarette head and sucked on my leg for a bit. It came off with a single pull, and one of the guys showed me that if you set fire to them, they make a satisfying pop sound. There's nothing quite as satisfying as getting revenge on all the things that are using you as dinner. The only problem is that you can be sure that the blood that comes from squashing a mosquito is yours anyway.

I've been planning my itinerary for the next part of the trip, getting to Santiago. It's about 2000 miles, and I've got the best part of two months to make it. I'll be heading down on a series of boats and long bus rides, plus an internal flight within Bolivia. There's a pretty cool train journey as well, with scenery to write home about which I probably will). I get to cross the Bolivian salt plains - vast expanses of nothingness, very similar to Salvador Dali paintings but lacking the fantastical elephants and melting clocks - in a jeep. I'm not sure, but I think it's going to be the rainy season when I'm there, during which time the ground becomes a giant reflective surface, and you can't see where the horizon is. It's a photographer's paradise.

Anyway, must go - deadlines to keep etc.

Ollie