Who's got jungle feevah?

I wake up feeling quite excellent on Monday, October 13. So we decided that it was time to leave Cusco. Finally! We’re both so excited and we begin researching at once. We can’t go too far because we’re still waiting for Nate’s jacket to be mailed from Ecuador. So we decide to execute a last-minute trip to… Puerto Maldonado.

Where? Ok. Here’s the deal. Peru can be divided into three sections: the coast, the mountains, and the jungle. We’ve experienced the coast, the mountains… but not the jungle. Fantastic. Let’s go.

The Lonely Planet’s information is out of date, slightly. It says it takes 3 days to get to Puerto Maldonado, riding on the top of a gasoline truck over the bumpy roads. Ummm… Sounds like fun to me, but Nate is weary. But we find out that since the LP’s copyright date, the roads have been improved and buses have taken over this tedious journey. So we buy two tickets for Tuesday. It’s settled, we’re going!

Tuesday morning wake up. Eat. Oh no. Maybe I’m not entirely better. My head does the swimmy, nauseous feeling. Oh no. Maybe we can’t go. But we have to; we’ve already paid for the ticket. As 3pm drew closer, I felt worse and worse. I was fighting back urges to throw up. So we called a doctor, who was phenomenal and came within 10 minutes. She was super helpful and gave me a consultation and some anti-nausea pills at no cost.

So we sped off for the Terminal Terrestre with 15 minutes to the bus’s departure. We arrived and, after paying the exit fee, found the right bus. Apparently the company that we had booked had been in an accident the day before and weren’t deploying any buses. We had to change our ticket for another company. We hopped aboard and it was not what I had expected. It smelled weird and was rather dirty. Nate said he heard someone say something about us “gringos.” The circumstances were not ideal, but what other choice did we have?

We left the bus terminal late. We got stopped by police who asked for our Ids and checked for seat belts. My seat belt was non functioning, so I tied it together and hoped for the best.

A man tried (for about an hour) to sell us ginseng tablets and other cure-all Chinese potions. Nate and I were having none of it (lucky Nate could tune him out), but the other passengers were eating it up.

We stopped for a bathroom break, which was on top of a hill. We filed out of the bus and out into the open country side. The men walked a few feet and proceeded to relieve themselves. The women had to go off a little ways. It took a little bit to get me comfortable with the idea of peeing in public. The bus almost left me behind.

The TV had to be held into place with tape. A goat bleated from somewhere in the bus. The mother across the aisle from me laid her daughter down on the dirty aisle to sleep. Passengers had to walk over her to get on and off the bus, whacking me in the head each time they did. The woman behind us kept coughing up some terrible sounds (some of them in my hair). It was disgusting.

They served us a Styrofoam box of dinner each accompanied by some rice pudding. Some passengers took one look at it and tossed it straight out the window. During the bus ride, the rice pudding somewhere was spilled and was tracked throughout the bus.

I slept. I guess I was tired.

Throughout the night, I snuck peaks out of the darkened bus windows. The trees closest to the road sported bigger, tropical leaves. The air changed from cool and dry to warm and humid. And the road itself was rough and so narrow that only one car could pass at a time.

It was around 5 or 6am when the bus woke up. I felt disgusting. The bus was humid and dirty; I could almost feel the germies in the air. Everyone seemed to be coughing up something terrible. It was hot. But to add to that, it started raining. Normally, buses keep out the rains, but this one let it loose… onto my head. I put on my raincoat in the bus and got drip drip drip dripdripdripdriped on for a little while.

We started getting close around 9am. We could tell because the crowd in the bus held a collective invisible expectation. The bus made frequent stops to let passengers off and food vendors on. Nate and I split a yucca rellena for 1 sol, which ended up being pretty awesome.

It was 11am when we finally pulled into Puerto Maldonado, concluding our 20-hour disgusting bus ride. Our backs and faces were covered in sweat. Welcome to jungle territory.

But it wasn’t what either of us had expected. No all-encompassing green foliage. No exotic birds everywhere. Just a dusty city with few paved roads and lots of 2- or 3- wheeled transporation. We hopped a motorickshaw to the plaza de armas, thinking that would be a great place to start. The government-run tourist information office, however, would be another motorickshaw ride away along a dirt road. We get some information and then back to the plaza de armas to find another tourist information office.

It was pretty frustrating. We were spending a whole lotta time and money running around this ugly boiling hot city AFTER spending 20 hours on a filthy bus. We got to the second tourist information office and looked at guided tours that were more than we really wanted to pay. I’m not a fan of tours. You pay a bunch of money get shuttled around from place to place and talked at. I like to do it myself, at my own pace. But this time we had no other option, because you weren’t allowed to enter the National Reserve without a guide.

So we chose between the tour options and found one that would be a whole day of jungle stuff. A woman, Luz Marina, came up from seemingly nowhere and jumped in along with us, lowering the per person cost. Sweet.

When it was all done and paid for, we set out to find the cheapest hostel in town. We ended up at Hostel Moderno, which despite its name, offers nothing modern. The rooms looked like large chicken coups with mesh walls near the ceiling for ventilation. The bathrooms were shared and mildly unpleasant, but it was cheap. The first thing we did was shower. No hot water, but none needed. The brutal sun took care of everything else. I don’t remember the last time I’ve been somewhere that hot.

We sweated all through lunch, which was filling and good. I got extremely tired after eating so we passed out after an ice-cream cone in our ridiculously hot hostel room.

Dinner was at a Chinese restaurant over an Argentina-Chile soccer match. Food did not make me feel good, but I ate what I could because, with my illness, I’ve lost a considerable amount of weight.

The hostel was sweltering and ridiculously noisy. We lay awake to people hacking up terrible sounds all night long. Nate says a radio started blasting at 4am, I know that I am eternally grateful to my earplugs.

We awoke the morning of Thursday October 16, sweating and tired. After a rushed breakfast of grilled chicken, rice, and salad we waited for our guide at 8am. The sun was already frantically attacking our bare skin; it’s gonna be a long day, I thought.



The guide came and we took some motorichshaw taxis to the muelle. Our boat driver and jungle guide extraordinaire was Don Jose. We road the “peke” boat, so named for the sounds its engine makes: pekepekepekepekepeke…




We peked down the river to flight of stairs that marked the beginning of the Reserva National.





Then stepped into the jungle. The air was humid and all around us was the thick vegetation and life that only a jungle breathes. My senses were overwhelmed. There was so much to investigate, so many sounds, sights, smells… It was so unfamiliar and wild; I felt like a naïve intruder. After a short spiel from the park guard, we were let loose into the selva.


Thick vines reached up around us. Millions of plants and hidden animals stared at us as we passed. There was too much for my eyes to take in. The sounds of countless bugs and birds were put on hold as I listened to explanations of different trees and fruits and their medicinal properties. Don Jose was awesome. You could tell that he lived for his jungle. He understood that life comes from nature and we have to reciprocate.

We pass a colony of highly organized agricultural… ants. I’d heard about them in biology class. It was awesome to see them in action. Don Jose picked up a soldier ant, which was huge! Each of the classes of ants had a job. The job facilitated the gathering of leaves. The ants don’t eat the leaves they collect, but rather use them to cultivate a species of fungus inside the ant colony. The fungus is the nourishment of the ants. During the rainy season, they block up all the entrances to the colony and sit inside with their food storage. They are more organized than any civilization of humans I’ve seen.



We saw hundreds of spiders with a collective goal. Butterflies dominated the pools of water. We walked by the home of an anaconda. I could have spent hours walking down the path, trying to take everything in, but we had a plan for the day and so we kept walking.




There’s so much that goes on in a jungle; millions of species working together. The curious little flower has curious little bugs on it. And the two species mutually benefit each other. The monkeys eat the aguaje fruits, depositing the seeds. Species working, surviving, aiding, living together. The harmony is quite remarkable.




We arrived at the Lago Sandoval after 5km of jungle walking. There were monkeys tree-jumping over our heads (one threw an unripe mango at Don Jose). We put on our swimming gear and carried big sticks to scare away the sting rays. The water was a ridiculously warm temperature and felt so good after the humidity. We met some friendly Spaniards and some jovial Peruvians. We all took turns on the rope swing!

Time to eat. The refreshing dip in the water was quickly wiped away by sweat as we started eating. Our group was hilarious and we all got along well. Nate was keeping up quite nicely with the Spanish. I was impressed.



After lunch we hopped into a canoe. We brushed our arms with suntan lotion and put towels and shorts on our heads. The sun was fierce and dehydrating.




We spent some time on the water and saw a lot of birds, tortugas, and even a few caiman! We heard some pretty large animals! I secretly wanted to see a tapir or puma or something, but they were all too well hidden.




After a bit of navigating the perimeter of the lake, we headed back to the path. It was only about 3 or 4pm, but the sky was getting darker. All of the thick leaves kept the pesky sun at bay, but I wasn’t about to wait around until dark. The noises of the jungle are enough to keep me on my toes. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if it was dark.




I was pretty worn out by the time we got back to the boat. We made faces and played games while the two women slept and Don Jose navigated the boat. The sun was setting as we pulled into the dock.









One last picture before we go! What a great group. I guess not all tours are bad.




After a great day, we splurge on a calzone and burrito dinner, which left me feeling not so good. Good night jungle!

After another sleep-strenuous night of people hacking up lungs, babies crying, and terrible music being blasted, we woke up to a day of errands.

Friday October 17. What kind of errands?

Well, we have a bunch, so we rent a motor scooter to save us money on moto-rickshaw taxis. Do we know how to ride one? Well, Nate’s a quick learner , so off we go!

First stop… we get directions for the bus companies. There’s no central bus station in this town, there’s just a street with all the bus companies lined up. We shop around and find one that suits us. We take a look at the bus, looks okay from the outside. We buy our tickets for 2:30pm. Great. What’s next?

Second stop… Mercado. We’re looking for a machete. Not only do they make awesome souvenirs, but you never know when they’ll come in handy against vicious dogs on Laguna Quilotoa trails. Plus, we need to chop up our pineapples some way… So we go machete hunting. But no one seems to sell them with a sheath... and we’re not about to go walking around with a naked machete. Hmm…

Our brain wheels start turning as we have a market breakfast/lunch. After much searching, we find the shoe-repair stalls. We explain our situation to the first shoe repair man who gives us a quizzical look. He agrees to make one for us! So we go to our friend the machete dealer, buy a machete and then have a sheath custom made for us.


While we’re waiting we grab an aguajina juice, made from the juice of aguaje. Apparently the fruit itself contains a fair number of hormones, so men should drink it in moderation. Not a problem for either of us, because we find that the yellow-orange drink is not so appetizing. But it’s always awesome to try something new, especially something so typical of the region.

We return the motor scooter, convinced that we’ll have to do it again some time… We check out of the hostel and sit around with the guy at the desk talking for a bit. Then back to the market to check on our machete.




Whadda think? It’s rugged and perfect! We thank the shoe repairer (who I think was more than happy to take on our out-of-the-ordinary request to spare him from the monotony of shoes) with a picture.




Then we sit down to a pair of refrescos of maracuyá and cocona. The woman who serves us the drinks sits pealing an aguaje. She sees our puzzled looks and offers us some. The pealing was the fun part, the aguaje itself was sour and quite the acquired taste. We thank her though and head off to wait for our bus.

Waiting for our bus brings us into contact with a strange looking jungle animal that a family has decided to adopt as a pet.



The bus takes off a little late, but it’s much cleaner than the last one. We make good time bouncing over the dirt road. Of course there’s time to pick up a pineapple on the way out of town.