Fiona was robbed on our way to the Amazon.
My favourite parts of our foray into the jungle were riding the rapids in a tyre tube, and just listening to the jungle as we floated down river in our long boat. The sounds of the river, birds, insects and frogs were overpowering, yet peaceful, so of course Warren fell asleep : )
But you probably want to hear about the bus trip which ended with Fiona being robbed.
Bus trips in South America are almost as interesting as the desintations. Vendors selling everything from supplements to sunglasses board the bus while it´s moving. These include children laden with heavy baskets of fruit or food. They hop off later, presumably to catch a bus headed back towards their village.
Despite the commotion caused by the vendors, latin music which is played and the ocassional B-grade movie (we saw Desparado with Antonio Banderas!) most of our group slept during this particular trip.
Fiona woke up three hours into it, and discovered that her bag - which she had stored in the overhead luggage compartment above her seat - was no longer there. She moved through the bus checking all seats, ¨in case someone might have taken it by accident¨, and found it at the back of the bus. Her passport, cash, credit cards, camera, and a gold pendent blessed by Pope John Paul II were gone.
This discovery made Warren and I wrap our legs more tightly around our day packs. We had placed them between our feet because overhead storage didn´t seem like a safe option. The rest of our group had used the overhead compartments, and quickly took their bags down.
Living conditions are in Misahualli and the Amazon are very basic. People sleep in huts only large enough to accommodate their mattresses, and do their cooking etc. outdoors under a thatched roof with no walls. Unless they have the luxury of a river raft (i.e. crudely tied bamboo stakes), villagers would have to walk into town. The walk from our lodge took us four hours, and we saw children as young as six or seven hack their way through with machetes (although they took half the time we did). One could understand why some might resort to thieving to improve their lives.
On a happier note, some locals in Misahualli showed us how to dance Cumbia. From what I have experienced so far, it seems to be a cross between meringue and salsa, but I could be wrong. Have decided that, as TTC says, it doésn´t matter how you dance as long as you´re having fun!
My favourite parts of our foray into the jungle were riding the rapids in a tyre tube, and just listening to the jungle as we floated down river in our long boat. The sounds of the river, birds, insects and frogs were overpowering, yet peaceful, so of course Warren fell asleep : )
But you probably want to hear about the bus trip which ended with Fiona being robbed.
Bus trips in South America are almost as interesting as the desintations. Vendors selling everything from supplements to sunglasses board the bus while it´s moving. These include children laden with heavy baskets of fruit or food. They hop off later, presumably to catch a bus headed back towards their village.
Despite the commotion caused by the vendors, latin music which is played and the ocassional B-grade movie (we saw Desparado with Antonio Banderas!) most of our group slept during this particular trip.
Fiona woke up three hours into it, and discovered that her bag - which she had stored in the overhead luggage compartment above her seat - was no longer there. She moved through the bus checking all seats, ¨in case someone might have taken it by accident¨, and found it at the back of the bus. Her passport, cash, credit cards, camera, and a gold pendent blessed by Pope John Paul II were gone.
This discovery made Warren and I wrap our legs more tightly around our day packs. We had placed them between our feet because overhead storage didn´t seem like a safe option. The rest of our group had used the overhead compartments, and quickly took their bags down.
Living conditions are in Misahualli and the Amazon are very basic. People sleep in huts only large enough to accommodate their mattresses, and do their cooking etc. outdoors under a thatched roof with no walls. Unless they have the luxury of a river raft (i.e. crudely tied bamboo stakes), villagers would have to walk into town. The walk from our lodge took us four hours, and we saw children as young as six or seven hack their way through with machetes (although they took half the time we did). One could understand why some might resort to thieving to improve their lives.
On a happier note, some locals in Misahualli showed us how to dance Cumbia. From what I have experienced so far, it seems to be a cross between meringue and salsa, but I could be wrong. Have decided that, as TTC says, it doésn´t matter how you dance as long as you´re having fun!
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