In the morning, the mist had settled in the areas where the vast expanse forest had been cleared, beyond that mountains fringed the earth below the pink sky.
After a taxi and then a bouncy jeep trip through forest and river, we reached our jungle eco resort in Amboro National Park. I didn’t know what “eco” actually means, my fear was it meant little more than there would be no hot water. In fact, its owner appears to be responsible for clearing rain forest as well as collecting puma cubs. And there was no hot water. Aside from the eco-credentials, it was a great place to stay.
While our time in the primary rain forest was beset by sand flies, we also saw tarantulas, snakes and frogs. Not a great tally admittedly but a large hairy spider also attached itself to the underside of the brim of my hat. Branches were moved by monkeys, bubbles perhaps from alligators appeared in a lagoon and a crashing on a night walk eminated from we-don’t-know-what.
Each trek featured a magnificent waterfall or lake to swim in, which was truly delicious in the heat. After a few days, we returned to Santa Cruz. On our way into town, we passed some policemen who had pulled over two boy racer cars and were questioning the drivers. We were impressed to see the disrespected Bolivian bobbies doing their jobs. As we passed it was clear that they were merely closing off the road so it could used as a drag strip.
Continuing the Santa Cruz theme of employing girls, young ladies, some of them old enough to vote, handed out pro-autonomy leaflets in the plaza.
Even the worse taxis here are a little smarter than back in La Paz, of course, there’s still no seat belts. Returning to Santa Cruz there was little room for our luggage in the boot given the huge bass bin. In the front, the CD player pumping out reggaeton had a screen showing videos. I can only assume that reggaeton (South American R&B) is an acquired taste.
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1 comment:
Do you guys ever do any work, or is life just one big holiday?
Jealous in Sydney.
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