Day 58 - back to the jungle.

Inexplicably awake at 5am. Start the day with an early breakfast at Jack’s Café, the gringo hangout. Nice huevos rancheros. Ask around about colectivos to the airport, and though I’m told that they do pass along Choquechaca, I decide not to take chances and to take the colectivo south of the Plaza de Armas.

The traffic policewoman directs me across the street to the colectivo stop from where Doradita and Correcaminos minibuses go to the airport. It’s a good thing to check out because budget travellers would surely like to know that they can get to the airport for 0.6 soles, as opposed to five or so, which is what a taxi would charge. Plus, you gotta be careful with taxis, because tourists have been robbed in some of them, whereas colectivos are reliable and full of locals.

There’s a scruffy teenager hanging out the door of Correcaminos, rattling off: “Aeropuerto! Aeropuerto!” 'Patience' by Take That is blaring from the Claro phone shop across the street. The colectivo stops at every corner, but we still make it to the airport in less than twenty minutes. There are three billboards on the hill opposite the airport; “Bienvenido a Cusco!” proclaims the McDonalds one. There’s also a Cusqueña beer one, whereas the biggest one is, of course, Coca-Cola. How very Peruvian.

I’m early enough to check out the small (though international) airport’s facilities, pay my airport tax (applicable both to domestic and international flights) and get into a discussion with a man who wrote a book on the mysteries of Machu Picchu. He claims to be a professor, and I wonder what he’s doing in Cusco’s airport book shop, flogging books to tourists.

Am fretting a little about whether I’ll be able to pull off flying for a Peruvian price, but it’s not a problem in the end; they swipe my boarding pass and I’m beckoned into the departure area. Score! Take that, LAN Peru. Maybe I could've even checked some luggage in... 

It’s hard to believe that the forty-minute flight covers the same distance as the hardcore fourteen-hour boat and bus journey of a few days ago. First it’s the green mountains around Cusco, the multicoloured fields, really high up, and then they give way to an endless expanse of dark green jungle, with the mud-brown ribbons of Madre de Díos and Tambopata rivers winding their way through it. There’s the odd gleam of red amidst the green – secropia trees, which shed their leaves and grow red flowers; a flash of gold – the sun reflected off the tin roofs of a little frontier town along the river; a loop of blue near the river – an oxbow lake. Then we descend, with green fields to one side and the tin roofs of Puerto Maldonado beyond.

The weather is tropical and there’s no respite from the heat here, unlike in Manu. Though they’re supposed to check that all passengers are immunised against yellow fever, the inoculation booth is closed. I run the gauntlet of taxi drivers and tour operators waiting outside; don’t see my name anywhere, so wonder what to do next while I position myself among them. End up talking to a taxi driver and when I mention that I’m staying at Posada Amazonas, a guide across from me calls my name.

Our minibus goes to the Rainforest Expeditions HQ; there’s a large group led by Intrepid travel, and then there’s myself, Ronan and Ciara - a brother and sister from Northern Ireland, and Carol and Jessica - mother and daughter from London – we’re led by Vico.

Though my first impression of Puerto Maldonado is less than impressive – dusty dirt streets, a fleet of mototaxis – I immediately like the way Rainforest Expeditions run things. There’s a strong emphasis on eco-tourism and sustainable tourism, and these guys actually mean it: our snack comes in a wicker basket, and everything is wrapped in recyclable materials. Our lunch is wrapped in a banana leaf which we can just throw in the river afterwards.

Another guide, Armando, stands up and tells us that the locals make their living from cattle ranching, gold mining, brazil nut cultivation and points out a ‘typical house’ – a wooden plank construction which is completely open-plan; it looks like the house only has two sides, and is more of a shelter than a house. What happens if it rains from the unsheltered side?

Having been told that it’s no use looking for wildlife close to Puerto Maldonado, I am pleasantly surprised when within minutes of our boat’s departure for the lodge, we spot two small white caimans lazing in the sun, a hurricane of yellow butterflies (the males lick the clay in order to get the nutrients to produce sperm), and a giant family of capybaras – the dominant male, four females and a tribe of younglings. In my week in Manu, I’ve seen the back side of one of these giant rodents, and that was it.

The lodge far surpasses my expectations. Ten minutes’ walk through the jungle from the river, it’s made up of several open-plan areas with thatched roofs – lounge with chairs and hammocks, dining room, and sleeping areas – all made of local woods, with heavy woven cloths acting as doors to rooms. The room is lovely; open to the elements, with a hammock, a large, comfortable bed and an en suite bathroom with nice little touches, like the polished bit of wood with several branches to hang our towel on. Well-planned, and beautiful-looking.

During a short nature walk behind the lodge, we’re shown how brazil nuts grow, and then we climb the rickety 36-metre canopy tower, which brings us above the crowns of most trees, to watch the most peaceful of sunsets. Some macaws fly by, and then darkness falls quickly. I drop my lens cap off the tower and can’t find it when we get back on the ground.

As we make our way back to the lodge by torchlight, Vico stops us suddenly and lifts up a nearby branch to show us a white cocoon of spider eggs, guarded by mum – a large, fearsome looking spider. “This is a wandering spider,” Vico explains cheerfully. “It has enough venom to kill everyone in the lodge.” So why are we standing a foot away from it?

The buffet food is really good - a pleasant surprise when I'd been expecting camp food. Everyone’s off to bed early in anticipation of the 4am wakeup call.