The cabins were air-conditioned, en suite and the windows consisted of mosquito screens with
shutters.
However there were gaps between the floorboards and, the hut being on stilts, if you looked down between the floorboards there were pairs of inquisitive eyes staring back. They were staring back either out of curiosity or pleadingly, hoping that the air-conditioning would be turned off. This was not because of the temperature as even nocturnal creatures would appreciate a reduction from the stifling 85 degrees. Their plight was a result of the noise made by the air-conditioning unit. The forest surrounding the cabin was loud but the unit was like having a a small US attack helicopter pinned to the wall. It roared, it wailed but at least it kept the temperature below 70.
However there were gaps between the floorboards and, the hut being on stilts, if you looked down between the floorboards there were pairs of inquisitive eyes staring back. They were staring back either out of curiosity or pleadingly, hoping that the air-conditioning would be turned off. This was not because of the temperature as even nocturnal creatures would appreciate a reduction from the stifling 85 degrees. Their plight was a result of the noise made by the air-conditioning unit. The forest surrounding the cabin was loud but the unit was like having a a small US attack helicopter pinned to the wall. It roared, it wailed but at least it kept the temperature below 70.
---OOO---
Twenty people had assured Anselmo that they would report at 5:30 for the pre-dawn excursion - enough to need two canoes and two boatmen. The Yorkshire Farmer had, after the third very large Scotch mentioned that he had no alarm clock and might not make it but as he was in the neighbouring cabin an early morning call was agreed.
Knock, knock, knock.
"What in t'eaven's name is all that row?"
"It's 5am - you wanted a call."
"Go away, I'm not milking any more."
It went quiet.
"Oh 'ell - sorry didn't know where t'was. Thank you. See you on't landing stage."
Ten people arrived and one very disconsolate boatman went back to bed without a tip. The rain forest was still calling loudly but a different tune: variations on the theme of a neotropical dawn chorus. The canoe was being driven by a fellow who clearly yearned to be on a motorcycle, blipping the accelerator and then roaring at full revs for a minute, careering into the dark.
The slightest blush in the east across the high cloud and the rainforest chorus changed key. Engines off now, water lapping against the canoe sides and the occasional stifled yawn. Nearby another canoe arrived with the young couple from the lodge. They sat together staring at the eastern sky. A shot of crimson now ran under the high cloud and the low bank of cloud was edged in the subtlest peach. It would be after dawn before the sun rose above that bank of cloud but the birds called across the creek, challenging the sun. An Ibis landed and a pair of kingfishers took up there stations, eyes piercing the water in their search for fish. An Osprey made the first catch of the day as light was reflected from the high cloud and the uppermost arc of the sun hovered above the banked cloud. A splash and then a flurry of feathers, tight gripped talons and the flash of a doomed fish: life and death. The motor was re-started and the canoe moved on into the next creek abandoning the river to the lovers and their boatman whose hand hovered above the pull cord.
Several creeks and nameless birds later Anselmo announced that it was time for breakfast. The boatman accepted his tips with a nodding head and the passengers made for the dining room.
The next day's walk through there rainforest involved long, hot sleeves and trousers tucked into socks. The former to offer protection against things that bite, sting and, in the case of the plants, scratch and the latter, after socks had been treated with DEET, against ticks.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, before we set out I must tell you about the safety arrangements on this walk." Anselmo went on to explain that passengers were not to pick anything up from the forest floor neither should they grab hold of stems and plants to steady themselves. "The thorns on palm trees are very, very sharp and wounds are often infected." Two other guides were to accompany the group, one at the back to ensure that no one lagged so far behind that they became lost and the other to look after anyone who became too tired to go on. While the forest is potentially a lethal place, there was a sense of theatre about the thoroughness of the preparations when compared to the slightly cavalier attitude to the life jackets.
Twenty people had assured Anselmo that they would report at 5:30 for the pre-dawn excursion - enough to need two canoes and two boatmen. The Yorkshire Farmer had, after the third very large Scotch mentioned that he had no alarm clock and might not make it but as he was in the neighbouring cabin an early morning call was agreed.
Knock, knock, knock.
"What in t'eaven's name is all that row?"
"It's 5am - you wanted a call."
"Go away, I'm not milking any more."
It went quiet.
"Oh 'ell - sorry didn't know where t'was. Thank you. See you on't landing stage."
Ten people arrived and one very disconsolate boatman went back to bed without a tip. The rain forest was still calling loudly but a different tune: variations on the theme of a neotropical dawn chorus. The canoe was being driven by a fellow who clearly yearned to be on a motorcycle, blipping the accelerator and then roaring at full revs for a minute, careering into the dark.
The slightest blush in the east across the high cloud and the rainforest chorus changed key. Engines off now, water lapping against the canoe sides and the occasional stifled yawn. Nearby another canoe arrived with the young couple from the lodge. They sat together staring at the eastern sky. A shot of crimson now ran under the high cloud and the low bank of cloud was edged in the subtlest peach. It would be after dawn before the sun rose above that bank of cloud but the birds called across the creek, challenging the sun. An Ibis landed and a pair of kingfishers took up there stations, eyes piercing the water in their search for fish. An Osprey made the first catch of the day as light was reflected from the high cloud and the uppermost arc of the sun hovered above the banked cloud. A splash and then a flurry of feathers, tight gripped talons and the flash of a doomed fish: life and death. The motor was re-started and the canoe moved on into the next creek abandoning the river to the lovers and their boatman whose hand hovered above the pull cord.
Several creeks and nameless birds later Anselmo announced that it was time for breakfast. The boatman accepted his tips with a nodding head and the passengers made for the dining room.
---OOO---
The next day's walk through there rainforest involved long, hot sleeves and trousers tucked into socks. The former to offer protection against things that bite, sting and, in the case of the plants, scratch and the latter, after socks had been treated with DEET, against ticks.
"Good morning ladies and gentlemen, before we set out I must tell you about the safety arrangements on this walk." Anselmo went on to explain that passengers were not to pick anything up from the forest floor neither should they grab hold of stems and plants to steady themselves. "The thorns on palm trees are very, very sharp and wounds are often infected." Two other guides were to accompany the group, one at the back to ensure that no one lagged so far behind that they became lost and the other to look after anyone who became too tired to go on. While the forest is potentially a lethal place, there was a sense of theatre about the thoroughness of the preparations when compared to the slightly cavalier attitude to the life jackets.
The path was narrow and in places required walkers to scramble over or crawl under fallen trees.
Anselmo stopped regularly and thwarted the jostlers by waiting until everyone had caught up before
starting his commentary. Rubber trees, water vines, medicinal plants, hardwoods and fruits were all
carefully explained in language that was not too technical and, equally, not patronising. There were
glimpses of monkeys, birds and butterflies as well as the constant accompaniment of the rainforest
daytime chorus, more subdued than it's nocturnal counterpart but enough to remind the walker that
you were always far from alone.
Leafcutter ants formed a trail along a fallen tree, each carrying a portion of the material that they would use, back at their nest, as a substrate upon which would grow the fungus that they eat. Another beautiful piece of symbiotic evolution.
After an hour the line had resolved itself into a functioning order: the jostlers, as ever, to the fore then in descending order of fitness or ascending order of disability came the main body and lastly the very polite who could not avoid saying 'after you'. The snake wound its way through the forest under the watchful eye of a large, black iguana which lay along an overhanging branch.. From the back of the line it was perfectly visible if impossible to photograph. The human anaconda wove between, over and under trees dragging its tail which cast a little from side to side, searching, watching, observing without haste.
"Please to hurry, catch up please," Anselmo's rearguard chivvied when the tail became detached from the snake. Eventually the line coiled its way around a Telegraph Tree. Anselmo demonstrated how the back of a machete could tap the tree and the sound, reverberated and amplified could carry for two miles of so through the forest.
"If you were lost you could hit the tree like this:" Bang Bang Bang. "And rescuers would hear where you are and locate you." He repeated the demonstration three of four times.
"Isn't that a bit stupid, I mean they'll send out a search party now won't they?"
Anselmo looked bemused.
"Yes. She's right. It's likes the little boy calling wolf," added a crisp little man with a face like a cardboard mask.
"It will be a terrible waste of resources," said the original Mrs Indignant.
"They will send no one because the people at the Lodge know that we are out here learning about the forest," responded Anselmo but Mr Mask and Mrs Indignant did not look convinced.
"For the next part of the walk I would like the people who were at the front to go to the back and the people who were at the back to come to the front so that they have a chance to see things first," Anselmo announced to the irritation of the jostlers. The snake unwound itself tail first and set off along the path. While, at the back it had been possible to see things that others had missed there were certainly tantalising glimpses available to those at the front. Things retreating into the forest or up into the canopy that would be out of sight by the time the rear portion passed.
"Ow," a booted toe had caught a booted ankle. The most determined jostler had, within a few minutes moved up to second place like a racing driver moving up through the pack after a lengthy pit stop. Anselmo stopped and held up a hand to halt the line. The track was very narrow and he pointed forward, up and slightly to the right. A bird teased in the foliage while a the person behind came so close that their breath was felt behind an ear and their stomach brushed against the camera bag. Even this small reserve is large enough that you could walk for five days before you came to the edge and even then there is more rainforest after, what is effectively an arbitrary boundary. All that space and this person wanted to tread on the same piece of forest as the person in front. Silence was the rule on the walk so a word was not an option but the bird came to the rescue. It flew back over the line. Now a large telephoto lens is nothing if not long. Fully zoomed it forms a formidable weapon. It had been pointing slightly right of centre at the leaves behind which the bird was flitting. It was perfectly reasonable to turn and track the bird although this did mean that the Jostler had to step back pretty smartly to avoid being struck across the top of the head. Of course, behind the Senior Jostler were all the little jostlers so close they were like siamese sextuplets. A wonderful domino effect ensued with the jostlers cannoning into each other and in some cases into the thick vegetation to the side. This was not a quiet event.
"Sh," very quietly from the ten behind.
"Please be quiet," ordered Anselmo.
Leafcutter ants formed a trail along a fallen tree, each carrying a portion of the material that they would use, back at their nest, as a substrate upon which would grow the fungus that they eat. Another beautiful piece of symbiotic evolution.
After an hour the line had resolved itself into a functioning order: the jostlers, as ever, to the fore then in descending order of fitness or ascending order of disability came the main body and lastly the very polite who could not avoid saying 'after you'. The snake wound its way through the forest under the watchful eye of a large, black iguana which lay along an overhanging branch.. From the back of the line it was perfectly visible if impossible to photograph. The human anaconda wove between, over and under trees dragging its tail which cast a little from side to side, searching, watching, observing without haste.
"Please to hurry, catch up please," Anselmo's rearguard chivvied when the tail became detached from the snake. Eventually the line coiled its way around a Telegraph Tree. Anselmo demonstrated how the back of a machete could tap the tree and the sound, reverberated and amplified could carry for two miles of so through the forest.
"If you were lost you could hit the tree like this:" Bang Bang Bang. "And rescuers would hear where you are and locate you." He repeated the demonstration three of four times.
"Isn't that a bit stupid, I mean they'll send out a search party now won't they?"
Anselmo looked bemused.
"Yes. She's right. It's likes the little boy calling wolf," added a crisp little man with a face like a cardboard mask.
"It will be a terrible waste of resources," said the original Mrs Indignant.
"They will send no one because the people at the Lodge know that we are out here learning about the forest," responded Anselmo but Mr Mask and Mrs Indignant did not look convinced.
"For the next part of the walk I would like the people who were at the front to go to the back and the people who were at the back to come to the front so that they have a chance to see things first," Anselmo announced to the irritation of the jostlers. The snake unwound itself tail first and set off along the path. While, at the back it had been possible to see things that others had missed there were certainly tantalising glimpses available to those at the front. Things retreating into the forest or up into the canopy that would be out of sight by the time the rear portion passed.
"Ow," a booted toe had caught a booted ankle. The most determined jostler had, within a few minutes moved up to second place like a racing driver moving up through the pack after a lengthy pit stop. Anselmo stopped and held up a hand to halt the line. The track was very narrow and he pointed forward, up and slightly to the right. A bird teased in the foliage while a the person behind came so close that their breath was felt behind an ear and their stomach brushed against the camera bag. Even this small reserve is large enough that you could walk for five days before you came to the edge and even then there is more rainforest after, what is effectively an arbitrary boundary. All that space and this person wanted to tread on the same piece of forest as the person in front. Silence was the rule on the walk so a word was not an option but the bird came to the rescue. It flew back over the line. Now a large telephoto lens is nothing if not long. Fully zoomed it forms a formidable weapon. It had been pointing slightly right of centre at the leaves behind which the bird was flitting. It was perfectly reasonable to turn and track the bird although this did mean that the Jostler had to step back pretty smartly to avoid being struck across the top of the head. Of course, behind the Senior Jostler were all the little jostlers so close they were like siamese sextuplets. A wonderful domino effect ensued with the jostlers cannoning into each other and in some cases into the thick vegetation to the side. This was not a quiet event.
"Sh," very quietly from the ten behind.
"Please be quiet," ordered Anselmo.
The Chief Jostler's lips moved ready to say 'but'. Anselmo glared, the Jostler thought better of a spoken
protest and pointed at the camera.
In a whisper,
"Do have this piece of the trail, I'm happier at the back. It's less crowded."
There were two or three hours of free time around the lodge. Many sought shade, some sought shade in the bar and one walked down to the shore of the creek, along the jetty, back to the shore and then up into the edges of the forest. At the water's edge dragonflies razored the air settling briefly, taunting the lens and then cutting through the humid air, filigree blades holding colours aloft. A log stirred and slipped into the weeded water only to clamber onto the far beach, its glistening carapace glinting in the sun. A second turtle beached itself and rested alongside the first then both returned to the water and disappeared from sight. Small fish shoaled along the shore, catching rays as they moved and disappearing as they came to rest. The snake necked Great Egret poised on the other shore must have been watching those same rays and puzzling at the disappearances.
On a hand rail the primal green of an iguana basked, the whip of a tail stretching back further than its body stretched forward. The last few inches so thin it was hard to imagine that vertebrae could be so small: bony beads diminishing to nothing. Further down the rail two brilliant and oversized grasshoppers faced each other in a duel of nerves. One edged forward on its front four feet, the hind legs poised to make a sudden leap. Mirrored perfection brought the other closer still, a final dash a moment's strangely leggy embrace and they passed each other by, stood still and then went on their ways. The iguana looked on, too hot to hunt but if the creature were to come too close . . . it was gone into a gulping void, a once elegant leg sticking out from the corner of the mouth like a matchstick in that Italian way.
On returning to the ship, there was unpacking to do, photographs to download and then a trip to
library to update the journal. Every surface was covered with puzzles, most of them completed. People
had spent time in the centre of one of the greatest ecosystems in the world, at the heart of a fascinating
city and spent their time doing jigsaw puzzles.
Well at least they had not been jostlers in the jungle.
In a whisper,
"Do have this piece of the trail, I'm happier at the back. It's less crowded."
---OOO---
There were two or three hours of free time around the lodge. Many sought shade, some sought shade in the bar and one walked down to the shore of the creek, along the jetty, back to the shore and then up into the edges of the forest. At the water's edge dragonflies razored the air settling briefly, taunting the lens and then cutting through the humid air, filigree blades holding colours aloft. A log stirred and slipped into the weeded water only to clamber onto the far beach, its glistening carapace glinting in the sun. A second turtle beached itself and rested alongside the first then both returned to the water and disappeared from sight. Small fish shoaled along the shore, catching rays as they moved and disappearing as they came to rest. The snake necked Great Egret poised on the other shore must have been watching those same rays and puzzling at the disappearances.
On a hand rail the primal green of an iguana basked, the whip of a tail stretching back further than its body stretched forward. The last few inches so thin it was hard to imagine that vertebrae could be so small: bony beads diminishing to nothing. Further down the rail two brilliant and oversized grasshoppers faced each other in a duel of nerves. One edged forward on its front four feet, the hind legs poised to make a sudden leap. Mirrored perfection brought the other closer still, a final dash a moment's strangely leggy embrace and they passed each other by, stood still and then went on their ways. The iguana looked on, too hot to hunt but if the creature were to come too close . . . it was gone into a gulping void, a once elegant leg sticking out from the corner of the mouth like a matchstick in that Italian way.
---OOO---
Quicksilver hours, flowing past, like time spent with one you love: an all too brief encounter - Celia
Johnson or Trevor Howard?
---OOO---
Well at least they had not been jostlers in the jungle.
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