I have seen less dirt on a tramps vest than on the pillows we were given by our guide last night, but I won't complain as they were comfortable and the manufacturers boast of the tent being waterproof stood up to a good midnight soaking and gave two fingers to the rain.
The boat sailed deeper into the jungle today whilst the group jumped off for walks through the rainforest along the way. On one such walk the Chilean girl (Claudia) had regaled us with her previous travel stories which included being kidnapped at gunpoint, robbed (4 times) and in general enjoying the kind of luck a turkey gets at Christmas – I think the boat may have found it's Jonah. You would have thought that someone as error prone as her – upon arrival at the edge of a waterfall – would have shown an extreme amount of caution. I had that exact thought, exactly four seconds before she slipped and disappeared over the top. Before the rest of us were able to start dividing-up her food rations for the rest of the week our guides had leapt into action and somehow managed to stop her from plunging further down the rock face to certain doom below escaping with just a few cuts and bruises.
That evening after a night walk through the jungle we camped deep in the forest. As luck would have it, our group contained one of those incredibly outdoorsy types, the sort of bloke who spends three weeks in Wales during November with just a compass, a Swiss Army Knife and a tin of corned beef. It was great fortune for us, as all I had to say was 'Shall we make a fire?' before Tom was scaling trees for wood, binding tree-trunks together for benches and digging out irrigation channels.
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