Ups and downs

By Joe 

Having claimed to be a bit sanguine with hummingbirds in a previous entry I should explain Hester's note: in the cloud forest I had seen a beautiful view of the final ascent to the plateau, up a steep rocky slope covered in flowers and beneath a waterfall. Before I could get my camera out we were enveloped in cloud, so I hung back, alone, to wait for it to pass. Moments  later, in the eerie white silence, a loud 'brrrrrrrrr' as a hummingbird appeared, in front of my face, hovered, looked one way, the other, and another still, then disappeared. I felt he wished to commune with me. I must have picked up something of their essence in Trinidad.

Top 5 things about the boat down the amazon:

5. The doors. The doors were a beautiful, Art Deco design and made of some no-doubt-unsustainable non-FSC hardwood.

4. Seeing the carefree jettisoning of all manner of stuff into the amazon. I shall not stress about a yoghurt lid in the regular non-recycling bin again (- fellow Brit passenger fastidiously stubbed out his fag and dropped it in the bin, only to see the whole bin liner thrown overboard minutes later).

3. The inflatable toilet seat- which gave a nice little *pffff* when you sat on it, which happened a lot.

2. The location of the sink close to the bog, as a convenient and cool headrest.

1. We got off. Albeit at 3 in the morning in a dodgy dockside after a sleepless and worrying night* on the high sea outside the estuary, but we got off.

* so much was the boat struggling, Hes had decided on what she would save in the event of our sinking. Her fevered choice was the sleeping tablets, on the basis that they would provide an easier death than being eaten by sharks.

But on the upside, last night we got utterly pished on delicious, knockout 60p caipirinhas and watched some Latino guitar twiddling at a warm and breezy open air concert in Fortaleza. So it's swings and roundabouts really.

Amazon hell

The following entry may have suffered from festering in s small dark cabin. Our journey up the amazon can best be described as hellish, think shades of Heart Of Darkness. I've had the worst flu I can ever remember, and now on day five seem to have passed it on to Joe with an added gift of diarrhoea. Mind you, that may be down to the on-board catering: beef (I think) rice and noodles,  the same chunks of grey meat reheated for five days in different combinations and served in an enthusiastically air conditioned dining room that our new French friends call the 'frigidaire'. The boat is very cramped and the staff could win awards for rudeness. But even though our cabin: a windowless metal box with peeling paint, a bunk bed and a small space to land, offers few comforts, I'm eternally glad we spent an arm and a leg on it, because of the small air conditioning  unit. Have spent much of the last five days gazing at it in various feverish states, watching drips of water run over the fly dirts on the wall and praying it won't pack up. What's been more disappointing is what we've seen of the mighty river itself. I know Manaus is one of Brazil's biggest cities, and I was hardly likely to see river dolphins frolicking in the harbour, but the banks are absolutely covered with rubbish. I learn now that the river fish I had to eat before we boarded is all but extinct, and it makes me feel sick to see the other passengers just chucking their plastic wrappers and cups overboard. There was beauty in Manaus: the bustle of the electronic shops downtown, surrounded by every kind of juice and fried food seller, the square with marbled pavements and theatre that looked straight out of Lisbon, but the place is full of people trying to sell 'genuine' jungle tours, with leaflets full of guides holding a poor sloth aloft by its front legs. Perhaps I'll find the amazon of my teenage wildlife posters and the Manaus of the Lost World when we try again in Peru.

And I'll try not to end on a sour note, because before getting on the boat the six days we spent climbing mount roraima were just amazing. We crossed open savannah with bush fires, then climbed up through cloud forest, and on the top was a wilderness of rock, silence and sweeping views over virgin forest and huge waterfalls. And the top was full of microscopic alpine gardens: the closer you looked the more tiny orchids and carnivorous sundew plants you could see. Joe had a spiritual moment with a hummingbird, and was so excited he couldnt poo for four days. But enough: it was a truly amazing, beautiful place.

Roraima and brazil

So here we are in Brazil. It already seems to be a nice friendly place and we are happy. Except that I now think my nice camera was completely wrecked by Angel Effing Falls (not just the battery). Oh, and my legs are still incredibly stiff from the descent from Roraima. Roraima was beautiful- 6 days of trekking through savannahs, clambering through a cloud forest and onto the table mountain. Hes loved the flora and fauna, she'll explain more. The food was very good and the guides very friendly (no fruity body-shape-comparisons of rock formations but nor was there much scientific insight). Also met some very nice people, proper team spirit-like. And a bed and shower have never felt so good as when we arrived back in civilisation. Will put some photos up soon.

The trip into brazil was pretty easy. The Venezuelan border guards were more interested in talking about the Beatles than looking in our bags. In fact it occurs to me that at no point at all have our bags been searched- not getting on or off the boat or at all since. I could quite easily have brought a big bag of something illegal with me this whole way. I shall keep tabs on how far I could have brought this imaginary bag.

Hes has finally proved to be a worthwhile companion now we are in brazil. She speaks a smidgen of Portuguese. I only know 'obrigado' (or 'obrigada' when I am not concentrating and just copying hes). I keep saying it at people, sometimes twice in a row. I must be getting good at it, I said it at a man on the bus and he asked if I spoke Portuguese.

We went to the opera house in Manaus tonight to see a production of 'the picture of Dorian grey'. Travelling does indeed change you. I can only apologise to those who thought they knew me. Tomorrow we are getting on a(nother) boat, this time up the amazon. I hope that the local spiders' leaping abilities are less than half the width of the amazon and that we sail up the dead-centre. Otherwise this could be a pretty gruesome experience.

Pre-mountain

By hes

Sat in a guesthouse and forced to choose between a Venezuelan cooking programme and a soap opera, I have decided to update you on Joe's antics. The national park surrounding angel falls was so beautiful, an idyllic little village with lagoon, beach and waterfall backdrop. Our guide, a Pemon Indian, was explaining to us about the trip upriver and how we'd be alone in the jungle. Joe, who sometimes switches off when the Spanish gets heavy going, counters with 'Hay un bar?' Actually, beer consumption has been pitifully low. Hoping that will change in brazil. This not going out in the evening lark is no way to live.

the camera was an unfortunate casualty of the waterfalls, but I got to feed a baby tapir with carrots, which was possibly my favourite part of the holiday so far (except for setting an oilbird free). Having a well-deserved pre-hike pizza this evening, and a night of scratching our bites. Wa-hey! then off up the Lost World mountain tomorrow.Not as apprehensive of spiders and hardcore climbers as I was- the only thing is that our supplies are entirely composed of brightly coloured sweets and luminous raspberry biscuits. Venezuela seems to be the land of food colourings. Anyway, internet is a bit of a struggle here so will sign off. Late-afternoon dip in the pool perhaps.

Venezuela

Venezuela (by Joe)

There are a lot of very upset people here. I'm talking about the election result of course. It isn't just the security issues, which affect us most. It is difficult to tell how much of the fear we have come across is founded and how much is the sort of daily-mail-fuelled stuff we get in the uk, but I suspect it is the former. People are genuinely afraid to be out on the streets at night.

That is in the cities- we were just in canaima to see angel falls, and in the countryside it seems very safe. It made a pleasant change. Also, having heard pretty average reports we were actually pretty pleased with the whole trip- river boat trip, walking under waterfalls and all. Maybe we are yet to be spoiled by the rest of the continent.

Off next up roraima, sans nice-camera which got wasted in the monsoon-like rains over the last two days. iPhone photos will do of the 'wind-sculpted moonscape' at the top. I am hoping that the guide will be more informed than the guy in the largest-cave-in-Venezuela we visited, home to (more) oilbirds. Whilst hes was hoping for working knowledge of the reclusive beast, we instead got descriptions of the stalact(gm)ites a la 'this one looks like boobs/a penis/a bum.

Ps we feel very safe in spite of it all, following advice etc everything seems fine enough. Don't worry all.
Pps am very proud of hes who has twice boarded a Cessna plane and FLOWN.
Ppps it has occurred to me that rough guides and lonely planet books are sometimes written in the tone of someone who has gone on a rather expensive holiday and is trying to make the sights they have seen sound more than they were (see cave above). I shall try my utmost not to engage in that in this blog.

Laters.

across the atlantic, through trinidad and into venezuela

post by joe...

The boat

Not really knowing what to expect of the next fortnight we were a bit worried as the taxi driver took us through tilbury docks.  we were also a bit nervous that she had sailed (not having a clear leaving time is a vagary of container-ship travel) and we couldn't see any likely looking vessels  between the hangars, containers and  cranes. When we did spot it, and find the right pier, the guy behind the desk at the gate seemed to smirk as if we didn't know quite what we were getting into. But from the moment we stepped aboard things got better.

Our room was high up, just below the bridge, and with windows unobstructed by containers. Already a positive. It had a comfy bed and sofa and our own bathroom. Tick. There were deck chairs scattered around the, er, decks and a swimming pool which would be filled with warm water once we reached the azores ( as it happens we steered a long way north of the islands to avoid hurricane nadine). We met our friendly steward, Arnold, at dinner, and realised we had practically limitless wine-good wine, too (advantage of a French boat). Thus sealed my pro-ship travel evangelism with which I will ever more bore people.

 The crew were mostly filipino and the officers ukrainian, who had apparently been drilled to wish us 'good appetite' whenever they entered or left the mess hall. They delivered it without feeling but were friendly enough. Those who were tasked with looking after us were great. Arnold was Jeeves-like in anticipating our wishes, so much so we thought he may have bugged us. the chief officer, esat, was extremely jovial in that Balkan throw-your-arms-wide 'enjjjooooyyy' kind of way, and even took us on a tour of the ship. our captain was similar, but left the ship at rouen and was replaced by a 'master', who looked like a bond-villain-henchman and wore black leather gloves to pump iron by the pool. but he was nice too.

Our fellow passenger, David, a self-proclaimed grumpy old sod, was anything but. Even though he was taking a 40 day round trip to avoid his own seventieth birthday party, he turned out to be a very friendly and funny man, with some nicely entrenched opinions (much like other old sods I know and will probably become). Here is his website: http://www.grumpyoldsod.com/

We titted around in northern France for longer than was surely necessary (though it was quite good fun steaming down the seine to Rouen, dwarfing pretty villages and their car-ferries by the riverside). And it turns out we were loading high explosives and other hazardous materials. we worked out that these were for shipment to the french space launch site in guyana. 

The crossing itself took  seven incredible days. Every day we had a 360 degree flat horizon and could see far enough to discern completely different weather systems in every direction. The sea was pretty much a millpond the whole way, yet i couldn't have imagined the variety of land(sea)scape provided by just water and sky. We saw whales blowing and dolphins jumping in the wake (so high they seemed in danger of flopping onto the deck). and from the bow (the best place on the ship) thousands of flying fish trying to escape us. All this made us feel more remote than ever, right in the middle of (and at the same time outside) a completely alien ecosystem. Honestly. Something else.

After a brief and boozy stop in st Maarten we we eventually arrived into port of Spain, at the start of a bank holiday.

Trinidad

My memories of trinidad will pretty much fall into two categories: food and birds. This is perhaps a little unfair to the incredibly friendly people and beautiful landscapes, but that's just how it was.  The food is of a rich ethnic mix, Indian and creole. So I'm not going to describe all these as you can just google them if you are interested, but here are my top 5 in reverse order:

5. Corn soup

4. Roti

3. Callaloo

2. Doubles

1. Bake and shark

As for the birds, that's obviously her field. That said, i'm not sure i ever thought i would see a hummingbird. i have now seen about ten species of the things (male and female). they are pretty cool you know. they move like little sci-fi hoverbikes and you can see them stick their tongues out, and see their little necks bulge as they gulp down the nectar. Happily, a very annoying and geeky Yorkshire couple with their high-tech 'bins' and birder talk (he's showing/flicking') kept my cynicism for the pastime at a healthy level. They were cooing over some red capped priestbird or something, and then a black hawk. I wanted to tell them I had practically tripped over one on a walk in the forest the previous day (true) but they were beneath me so I didn't.

Here are my top 5 favourite bird's names of those I have seen.

5. The common potoo

4. The Bananaquit

3. The Brown booby

2. The Oilbird

1. The Black breasted whistling tree duck

We visited port-of Spain, mt st benedict, point-a-Pierre, blanchisseuse, maracas bay and the north east coast (inc toco). You could google those too.

And finally, a bit of mouthing off: Trinidad is a fantastic place filled with a lot of nice people. But you can't help but feel that they need to get their act together pretty sharpish. You can see that the effects of the petrol-windfall have been good but there seems to be nothing at all in line to replace it when it ends in a couple of decades' time. There's deep mistrust of the government and suspicion of corruption in all areas from everyone we met- the fact that jack Warner is still a high ranking minister is a bit of a tell-tale. The taxi driver who took us through town on our last day had seen someone shot dead that morning.

Anyway, that's probably ill-informed claptrap but this is a blog after all. And it's Venezuela next so god help us.

post by hes 

A few more bits to add to Joe's rant about the boat... Firstly, I can't recommend travelling by container ship enough! It's travel on a much more human scale than flying - birds follow you, you get to sense the air getting warmer etc. Waking up with nothing to do except read, swim and watch the sea and the sun rise and set is blissful. Plus there were some quite comedy aspects to the trip: weird hybrid Ukrainian/Philipino lunches of tempura prawn, garlic squid stir-fry, boiled cauliflower, potato salad and horseradish sauce. Watching a Godfather DVD with Croatian subtitles. And swimming in a small on-deck pool with water drawn from an ocean 5km deep. Incredible. Watching a still sea covered in fog is also amazingly beautiful. Most of the time the water was so flat it looked as if you could walk over it to the horizon

Anyway, we're in Venezuela now, after a hairy (and tricky with beginners' Spanish) journey from a port in the rural north-east of the country. We've seen some incredible colonial architecture, and are staying in a guest house that could be a museum - high ceilings, carved mahogany everywhere, still air and a huge internal courtyard complete with hot sleeping dogs. It's still very early to take impressions of the country, but people are more guarded than in Trinidad - both in their initial interactions with you, and literally, in houses with bars on the windows and doors. People we meet say the country is much less safe than it was 10 years ago, our last hostel owner said he doesn't go out at night, and there's a lot of crime. Today is the presidential election, and the whole country is excited and fiercely divided into the two separate Chavez and Capriles camps. Chavez has spent a lot on housing and medical care for the poor, and I think I can understand what he wants to do: take control of the country's natural resources, and use them to improve everyone's 'lot'. But it must be hell to live through: there are queues outside the banks, soaring prices, crumbling roads and the shops have very little selection of goods except a host of cheap plastic imports from China. The currency is worth far less than half the official exchange rate, so people earning bolivars are effectively trapped in the country and desperate for US dollars. Anyway, Chavez's rival is a man who looks and dresses like a US golf pro, with a scarily intense way of public speaking, but he seems to have the support of many of the middle class people we've met so who knows how the vote will go. We're currently in Ciudad Bolivar, rather fittingly as it's the place where the liberation of the continent from the Spanish began. The results from the vote are due later this evening, so we might wait up  - if our rum lasts that long.

Tomorrow we are off to Angel Falls early doors for a few days, and then climbing Mount Roraima near the border with Guyana and Brazil for 6 days, hopefully into a table-top plateau full of carnivorous plants, valleys of quartz and cloud forest, but more likely into swathes of biting insects, rain and crawly things. Urgh. I also keep having to remind Joe to have a shower - enough said.