pampas

August 5, 2009

The first day of my wildlife excursion had arrived. I checked out of my hostel and bumped into a Belgian couple I’d met on the plane the day before. They’d also booked a pampas (wetland savannah) tour with Indigena Tours. I joined them for breakfast and we excitedly anticipated the day to come. We headed over to the Indigena office and it was completely packed with people ready to begin their tours. I guess that’s what a Lonely Planet recommendation can do for a business.

A caravan of dirt-covered jeeps arrived and we loaded our stuff onto them. In my group were three Danish guys I’d met on the plane, two Danish girls, an Israeli guy, and an English guy. I wasn’t too sure about being in a predominantly Danish group, but it was much better than being with the young Chilean girls they originally put me with. I don’t have anything against Chileans, but I didn’t want to be stuck with a group of seven chatty girls who already knew each other and would be speaking another language nonstop.

Our first wildlife sighting, a snake on the side of the road

We met our guide, Juan Carlos, and crammed into our well-worn jeep to begin our journey. A few minutes outside of Rurrenabaque, we drove over a bumpy stretch of broken cobblestone road. I asked Juan Carlos if it would be like that the whole way. He said it wouldn’t. He failed to mention that it would be worse. We spent hours on a dirt road trying to dodge potholes and the occasional snake. There were plenty unavoidable dips in the road that sent us flying out of our seats. There were definitely no seat belts; you were lucky just to have a seat that wasn’t broken.

By the time we reached our lunch stop by the river, our bottoms were numb and those of us seated in the front were covered with a layer of dust. My hair had been given dirt brown highlights. The people in the back were not as dusty, but their legs got a mud bath when a drive through a puddle revealed a hole in the floor of the Jeep. We had been treated to an Amazonian spa package.

But the rough part of the day was the drive, now it was time to sit back and enjoy the rest of it. When we arrived at our lunch spot, the cooks explained in Spanish if that we had a choice of chicken or fish and asked us what we wanted to drink. I got the gist of it and responded, “pollo, por favor.” Somehow, this led to me being seen as the Spanish speaker of the group. Suddenly, I was in charge of ordering for everyone with the few words and phrases I knew. Something to be said for traveling solo is that it forces you to learn how to communicate in whatever way possible. You have only yourself to get your point across.

Pampas - Two Alligators After lunch, we went down by the river where we loaded our boats and went off to see the animals. There were caymans lurking in the river, keeping an eye on us. Other alligators stood on the shore with sinister eyes and wide-open mouths that looked ready to chomp on anything that came near. We saw one cute little squirrel monkey, and before long, several mischievous monkeys jumped on the boat and then onto us. Families of capybara, the world’s largest rodents, looked blankly into the distance as they chomped on dirt. Turtles were piled onto branches and then dropped into the water as we went by. There were birds in their nests high up in barren tree branches. Egrets perched on the riverbank and spread their graceful wings to fly away when we got close.

Squirrel Monkey

Several more monkeys emerge from the tree and hop onto our boat

Pampas - Birds in Nest

Capybara

Pampas - Our Boat

Pampas - Turtles

This boat ride definitely did not disappoint. One of the Danish guys asked me, “Do they put a fence around this place to keep the animals in?” We were in awe of the amount of animals we’d seen in their natural habitat. I felt like I had spent the afternoon in a PBS documentary.

We arrived at our camp in the early evening. It was far from “eco-luxe” and consisted of bare wooden structures on stilts with walkways to get from one building to the next. Inside our cabin were beds about a foot apart with mosquito nets hanging over them. There were two bathrooms for 24 travelers, 3 guides, and the family who ran and lived at the camp. The best part of the camp was the hammock room. It overlooked the river and was surround by netting to allow for a nice breeze while keeping the pesky mosquitoes out.

Pampas - Sunset After settling in, we went off to the Sunset Bar where there was something for everyone– playing volleyball or soccer, sipping a cold cerveza, and/or watching the sunset. The sunset started off ordinarily enough, but soon after the sun disappeared, the dark blue sky was filled with extraordinary rays of peach light.

We went back to our camp to have dinner and then went off in the boat again. With a flashlight, you can see the little dots which are the eyes of caymans. But it’s so dark that you don’t see much, so I found it much more interesting to look up at the luminous starry sky.

Back at the camp, the English guy and the Israeli guy went off to lounge in the hammocks. I joined the Danish people in the dining room to play cards and chat. They tried as much as possible to speak in English, but often relapsed into Danish. But cards and competition are international languages and the game they taught me was really fun. The camp’s power generator went off at 9 or 10pm, but we turned on our flashlights and kept playing. I went to bed fairly early to rest up for the next day’s anaconda search. Little did I know that no amount of rest could prepare me for that adventure.

{ 3 comments }

August 4, 2009

Rurrenabaque is situated in the Amazon Basin along the Beni River. It’s a jumping off point for affordable wildlife and jungle tours that are popular with backpackers. There are three ways to get to Rurrenabaque from La Paz, and none of them are good.

One option is a 20 hour journey along the official “World’s Most Dangerous Road.” While many people now bike down the “World’s Most Dangerous Road” for fun, riding down it in a bus still looks terrifying. Another option is to spend several days floating down the river on a cargo boat. I didn’t see this as a valid choice because I didn’t have many extra days to spare. I chose to fly, even though flights from La Paz to Rurrenabaque are notorious for frequently being canceled.

I was scheduled to fly on August 3rd. That morning, the hostel’s travel agent informed me that my flight was canceled because it had rained the previous day. The Rurrenabaque Airport has a dirt landing strip surrounded by grass. So when it rains, it gets flooded and no flights will leave until they determine that the landing strip is dry enough. Considering it’s in the rain forest, flights are canceled often. The agent told me that I would automatically be put on the same flight the next day.

On August 4th, I excitedly went to check in with travel agent. It didn’t look good– even though it hadn’t rained again, no flights had left yet that day. Since my flight was in the late afternoon, mine would probably be canceled because of the earlier delays. Dejectedly, I went back up to my room. But a few minutes later, the travel agent came running up to my room to tell me that flights had begun to take off and there was one space left on a flight that was leaving in two hours. I rushed to get everything together and headed out.

There were daily parades on my hostel’s street in the days leading up to Bolivian Independence Day. I walked several blocks before I was able to catch a cab that wasn’t stuck in traffic. We had to take a haphazard route to airport to avoid getting caught up in other parades around the city and I nervously hoped I’d make it in time. At the airport I checked in, went through security, and made it to the gate with fifteen minutes to spare.

Rurrenabaque - Plane The Amaszonas plane was the tiniest one I’d ever been on. I’m short, and even I couldn’t stand straight up on the plane without hitting my head. There are two columns of seats, so everyone has an aisle and window seat and a view of the cockpit. There are no overhead bins and definitely no flight attendants with complimentary drinks.

Even through dirty and scratched windows, the views on 40 minute flight are spectacular. First, you get a phenomenal view of La Paz and fly incredibly close to the snowy Mt. Illimani. As you leave the mountains behind, the landscape changes quickly and drastically to thick green blankets of trees with winding brown rivers between.

Reaching the Amazon Basin has been a dream of mine since I was in high school. I felt like a giddy kid as I stepped off the plane into the tropical greenery and humidity. I was so thrilled to be there. I caught a ride on the Amaszonas shuttle which takes you from the airport to the airline’s office in the center of town. Unless you arrange to be picked up by your tour company, this is the only way to get to town.

I found the Indigena Tours office where I checked in and got info for my tour and then went in search of a hostel. The Hostal Turistico Santa Ana drew me in with its brightly painted exterior, plentiful potted plants, and gorgeous mosaic walkways. The room they had available wasn’t ready, so laid in a hammock while they finished cleaning. My room was tiny, very pink, and perfect.

I walked up and down the streets of Rurrenabaque. There is nothing to see there, but it is a very pretty and calming town. It was so nice to be at a lower altitude where I could breathe normally and see and abundance of pretty flowers and vegetation. I had an early dinner and reveled in my last night of solitude before joining a three day tour.

My hostel room didn’t have a bathroom so I used the communal bathrooms and outdoor sinks. I got ready for bed while little beings rustled in nearby plants. Mundane tasks like teeth brushing and face washing are much more enjoyable when done outside in the light of the moon under a sky that’s incredibly full of stars. I was in love with Amazon and couldn’t wait for my adventure to begin the next day.

{ 2 comments }