My last moments in Peru however, began with one of the best days of my trip so far. Sadly for me, Kristi and Hannah, our tour of the jungle near Iquitos would not be run by Lito and Marlon as promised, as the unreliable Lito was too hungover from drinking the night before. Instead, we were met in the plaza by the very pleasant Pablo.
Soon we were aboard a motorboat chugging down the Amazon to our first port of call. There, in the middle of nowhere, we dropped by a small village to pick up our fishing rods, nibble on starfruit and refresh ourselves with a spit-fermented drink. Half an hours fishing later resulted in me catching one baby piranha and then a few mosquito bites as swarms of them attacked us possibly because they were insulted as to how useless we were.
After a good stroll through the jungle we docked beside an animal refuge where for the first time in South America, I was able to hang out with some monkeys. I was in my element especially as me and a wooly monkey called Julian got on extremely well. Also on site was a lazy sloth, a silky anaconda, parrots, tucans, a pre-historic turtle and a few shots of Siete Raices (a liquor containing extracts from seven plants).
Our next stop was at a lovely riverside lodge, where we snacked on sugar cane before enjoying a delicious combination of tuna, onions and yuca. With our stomachs filled and the rain beating down on us, we climbed aboard another boat and downstream were soon greeted by some local native Indians called the Yaguas. On arrival we were treated to some traditional dancing/walking and then we had a go on the blowgun whch involved blowing a thin spear down a huge pipe. I was pretty good at it and was tempted to buy one, but instead settled on a sloth made of balsa wood.
On the way back to the mothership, I disrupted things by going to take a penalty against one of the locals and instead of us continuing on our way, a full on game of five-a-side insued. Playing on slippery grass in wellies was hardly the perfect scenario for my return to the game after two years out with a knee injury but I walked away unscathed and managed to bag a lovely goal. Although there was nobody in net at the time, it was still a header Wayne Rooney would have been proud of, as I arched my back and planted it mercilessly in the top corner. I then fell over backwards.
With my return to the beatiful game a success, what better way to celebrate than with a dip in the Amazon at sunset. Me and the ladies showed no hestitation when the oportunity arose and with Pablo joining us, we threw ourselves into the gloriously refreshing water. On the way back to Iquitos, guided by Pablo´s wind-up torch, we wrote glowing references in his comments book, dried off and reflected on a magical day. I even got to spoon Kristi on the front of the boat.
On the following Friday morning, I was up early to stick my hammock up on a boat heading to Pantoja on the Ecuadorian border. My energy was quelled when the captain told me it wouldn´t be sailing until tomorrow. The rest of the day was spent wandering through the Belen markets once more and things finished off with a football match at the local stadium. The home team, C.N.I. were beaten comfortably by Universitario of Lima, 2-0, in a game seriously lacking in quality. The stadium was pretty good though with around eighteen thousand in attendance, of which many seemed happy to support both teams. Bit odd.
Saturday morning went the same as the day before. I arrived early at the port to throw my hammock aboard the San Martin, only to find that now it had been delayed until Tuesday. With no other options really available, I consulted my Footprints guide book and mapped out a different route which would enable me to leave later that day.
With my ticket sorted and my hammock hung serenely on the Eduardo V, me, Kristi and Hannah chose to visit one more labyrinth of nature in form of the Palpintuwasi animal refuge. On display were many butterflies, monkeys and a hot-looking Jaguar. It didn´t compare to our previous refuge visit though as most of the animals were caged.
At 6.22PM that evening, I finally left vibrant Iquitos and my lovely lady friends behind to start a new adventure, sailing for three days up the Amazon to the town of Yurimaguas.
That night I revelled in the space and tranquility offered by Eduardo V, a stark contrast from the claustrophobia and mayhem aboard the Henry II a few days earlier. With plenty of room to swing in my hammock on an open-sided deck, this was to be the Amazon boat trip I´d dreamed of. Adding to my delerium were the larger toilet/shower cubicles and my new 'Pert' shampoo and conditioner; a deviation from the bog standard soap I usually lather up in and great for the health of my much neglected hair.
On the Sunday, I was woken at 6AM by the most irritating baby I´ve ever known. Cries of ´Papi!´ will haunt me forever as will the beggars ability to turn his crying on and off like a tap. Throughout the day, I chatted with my hammock-homie, Carlos, a Peruvian very eager to learn English and in the evening I shared an Amazonian cigar or two with him. Amongst the international chit-chat, I managed to think plenty, write some creative notes and get deeply intimate with the odd book.
Monday was pretty similar to Sunday. Again the sunset was divine and I exerted myself very little. Though there were moments where I briefly arrived at something resembling boredom, the site of seeing the Amazon jungle pass before my eyes never grew tiresome. On this famous river, my mind unravelled and my thoughts turned to home. Meditation doesn´t get any better than this. In addition to the wonderful scenery, the in-journey snacks were second to none. As we stopped at riverside villages and hamlets, the locals brought aboard their produce ranging from coconuts, zapotes, manogoes, oranges and papaya to fresh fish and ready-cooked meat dishes.
We arrived in Yurimaguas the following morning at 6AM and along with Carlos and a Frenchman, we dropped by the local market to try and find me some authentic local cigars which I may use as a self-promotional design weapon when I arrive home. We found none and after some papaya juice, we climbed into a taxi and embarked on the windiest journey of my life. (Windy in terms of bends not air blowing in my face) In total, I calculated that between Yurimaguas and Tarapoto, some two and a half hours away, we took on something like eleven hundred bends. At peak time, we were hitting one bend every seven seconds. The driver didn´t make things easier either as he appeared to get a great thrill out of taking the corners at speed and hearing his tyres squeal.
Once in Tarapoto, me and Carlos gave Cyril a French sendoff then enjoyed the town to it´s fullest. In this I mean we went on the internet, had a few beers and visited a cigar factory. They were expensive so the big haul had to wait. Later I got my boots polished by a boy.
At 6.15PM, we snuggled up on a coach and fifteen hours later we were in Chiclayo, somewhere near the Peruvian coast. Thankfully there were no sexual advances from Carlos en route.
After a shower, Carlos took me to a cafe to try out the local speciality, ´conchas negras´, a black shellfish of sorts which was delicious and great to enjoy it with such a nowledgable (thats a joke) chap.
Fed and watered, we walked to the local market where I finally found a stall selling cheap cigars and in the end I finished up with 14 of the throat ticklers. Now they're safe in my water canister where they'll remain until I arrive back in Dolphinholme.
With the sun beaming down on us, Carlos suggested a visit to the seaside and after an ice lolly and a thirty minute minibus ride, we arrived on the shores of the Pacific. First to dazzle me were some reed boats called 'caballido tortoras' and then a slightly eccentric man approached us while we were sat drinking a beer on the beach. I called his bluff though as I bought some cookies off him then demanded a suggestive photo, much to the joy of the onlooking locals.
Amongst the misty seafront we wandered for some time before heading back for a shower and later a burger with fruit juice.
Thursday arrived and Carlos departed. I was off to Tumbes near the Ecuadorian border while he headed home to the town of Cajamarca. A wonderful bloke he was, who often marvelled at my apparent popularity amongst the local chicas who enjoyed giving me the odd smile and whistle.
That evening I landed on schedule, slightly shattered and spluttering with a cough. My hostel was overpriced but I had no energy to look elsewhere.
In the morning I finally left Peru, making the six hour journey to Guayaquil, Ecuador's biggest city. The bus journey istelf was bananas. For almost the entire route from the border (where we had to go through five checkpoints in total) to the city, the road was lined with millions upon millions of the curly yellow things.
After laying down my belongings in the hostel, I went for a walk to the very alien surroundings of a shopping centre where I enjoyed a fastfood meal and chuckled at the shop called 'PayLess ShoeSource'.
Tonight I'm off to see the local football team, Barcelona SC, take on Manta at the Estadio Monumental. If like me, you'd only ever heard of the Spanish equivalent of this team, then you'll also be surprised to hear that their stadium holds ninety thousand supporters, they're the best supported and most successful team in Ecuador, and are currently top of the league. They also have a near identical crest to the Catalan giants although the kit is a little different, what with it being bright yellow.
Tomorrow it's destination Baños, a little more further north where the possibility of a bridge bungee awaits. Having already done one at the university ball in Stoke, it will not be a new thing for me but it might be quite refreshing. I'm tempted to do it backwards.
Sunday will also mark my six month anniversary out here in the Americas, with only one month ahead before I make my flight home from Caracas. Right now, I feel my landing gear is on; still flying high but preparing to land. I loved Peru but then again, I've loved everywhere else as well.
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