A Jungle Boy Not

In these here travels Señor Hans has had to overcome mountains, cloud forests, canyons, and deserts; salt lakes, normal lakes, glaciers, waterfalls, rivers, and seas; volcanoes, temperate (rain)forests, savannahs, pampas and swamps ... but one still remained: the jungle ... it was from the quaint little frontier town of Rurrenabaque, Bolivia that this adventure was to commence. A river lancha up the Beni river, a tributary of the mighty Amazon, and three hours later civilization was no more.

Armed mainly with mosquito repellent, our little troup of would-be vine-swingers were led by an ever-smiling guide (dressed in camouflage colours) into the rainforest for three days. Although there was no rain, there sure was a whole lot of forest. Green was everywhere, from trees up to 40 meters high and a thousand years old to small bushes ad plants near the ground. I guess you could see for about 20 meters into the forest on the average, but hardly any further.

There was much walking through the trees, mostly on paths, and pointing out the live-giving and dead-dealing plants (about 50-50), my favourite being the "Palo del Diablo". The animals didn´t show themselves much though; apart from a young anteater at the guardaparque and a deer and a group of wild boars in the forest, it was all about insects. The mosquitoes were not so bad, altough I got bitten by some flying thingy in both ears (three seconds apart) which stung like hell. The big bugs were pretty cool though and a froggy here and there made Mr Kikker very happy.

The first night we stayed at the "base camp" near the Beni river, but the second day we hiked deeper into the jungle, having to cross streams by balancing on fallen trees, towards a a tiny camp next to small stream, where we could finally bath and wash off our thumb-thick layer of sweat. "Don´t go to the deep end", we were warned, and 15 minutes later the guide returned with three pirañas impaled on a sharp stick ...

The night sounds were almost deafening here and it was as black outside as I have ever (not) seen, but the main animals kept alluding us. Footprints of a tapir and the south american tiger, the jaguar, was all the proof that they were among us, but no more.
The last day, trekking back to base camp, we had two more interesting encounters, a huge three-legged tree, and a face-colouring plant ... but it was enough for Señor Hans. It is clear now that I am not made of jungle boy stuff; a mountain man is what I am ! Commanding views and dry cool air is what I want !! Therefore, back into the mountains I will go !!!

Oef !