Swollen Posterior

Our computer is checking out, check back for pics, sorry.

Armed with our backpacks and a wad of local bills we headed out into the jungle seeking adventure. It wasn´t long before we were fishing for peranas and stringing up our hamocks for the night. After a restfull slumber in the swing my itching backside roused me from the dark side and into the light. It was a bum full of bites (incidentially only the left side) not to mention my back, one or two on each finger, my elbows suffered the same fate, it was grand. Six days later and my back side still yearns for a good scratch but to no avail, it is insatiable, the bugs have won this battle.

Heidi and I landed in Manaus in the Amazon startled at the amount of concrete stranded in the jungle. Accesable mainly by boat and plane the explosion of a city hemmed in only by the water itself barely holding back the burgeoning metropolis, docks and boats spilling out from every inch of shore line and buildings claiming endless acres of virgin forest. Fortunately for us a pleasantly long boat ride stole us away from the ruccus and lights of a restless city to the apparent tranquility of Amazonia. We found a local boy to show us the ropes and in three days time he turned us raw Alaska kids into jungle rats. After his school of jungle medicine, gator snatching and snake charming along with erecting an efficient shelter in 37 seconds flat we fealt ready to shed the trappings of normal life and try our hand on the other side. . . but alas it was time to return to the city, I guess it just wasn´t our shot.

With a day to kill in Manaus waiting for our flight, Heidi and I set out with our rafts to ply the waters of the mighty Amazon, to find the very birth place of that goliath river. The Negro River runs black with the acids of decaying leaves and debris tumbeling downstream and the Solimoes River is tinted white with silt and clear water running off the Andes mountians far to the West. The point where they meet just below Manaus, the meeting of the waters as it were, there is a veritable line in the sand, a very distinct diliniation where the rivers greet each other and not for another fifty miles down stream do the waters fully integrate into each other morphing into a milky brown color. It was this line, this meeting point, that we sought. Setting out from the shore in a light headwind feeling strong we urgently paddled for the middle. After being pummled by the wind we pressed on and a full two hours later we revled in our presence floating above this line, albeit uncerimoniously and a little anticlimatic. Thankful for even the diminishing breeze at our backs we paddled on for the shore that we had left hours before. As expected the wind shifted before too much progress was made and we fealt a strong cross wind pushing us downstream. By the time we fought our way to a decent take out point we were thankful to be free of the wind and water and the sore bottoms that the boats were forcing apon us. We did not feel victory over the mighty river but it had not beaten us either.

A red eye flight wisked us back to Sao Paulo and shortly after an over night bus helped us on our way to Iguazu Falls. Wandering the streets at six in the morning we settled on a quaint little joint and promptly fell asleep. Not wishing to waist the day we soon ran off to visit the Brazilian side of the rushing waters and Heidi and I both came away in awe of Gods creation and the amazing beauty He has made! The following day Argentina side fealt our presence as we wistled our way around the grandure of the Big Water, as the natives call it. Not to be missed was the boat trip to the very base of the falls and a little pummeling by the falling water. On one of the train rides in the Iguazu park we fell in step with a New Yorker and enjoyed the evening with her learning about her life and sharing a great Argentinian steak only to find out that the last bus to Brazil left an hour and a half before dinner was over. Most of our belongings in Brazil and us trapped in Argentina didn´t feel so good, fortunately a cheeper than expected taxi ride brought us home safe and sound.

So this brings us to today, this morning we fought our way into Argentina to purchase a birth on a bus heading for Salta, Argentina and the adventures we may find on the altiplano of central South America.

Deep in the Amazon jungle
¨This is just like Disney Land only real!!!¨

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous4/20/2010

    From bush rats to jungle rats!