Kuelap Ruins

We wake early to beat the rush in the Hostal kitchen, another perk of our accommodations, we enjoy some oatmeal with mango and fresh coffee. We also figure this will give us plenty of time to pack up and check emails before we go pick up our SOAT policies at ten o’clock. While putting the luggage Brenda’s bike I noticed that a bolt had worked its way to freedom, of course it took the threads with it.

A little street-side maintenance is needed and once again I am in need of a drill. Jose has one and I kept the drill bit from the first bolt incident, I drill out the hole with the intention of putting a bolt through the subframe. The bolt selection I brought did not include one long enough for the task but lucky for me there is a hardware store just down the street with the required bolt. All this put us behind about an hour as it is now 11 o’clock and we have not picked up our insurance yet, no biggie just a few block walk in each direction and we are set to go. Jose wants a pictures of us with our bikes in front of his Hostal and we oblige willingly. He had shown us pictures of a Dutch couple that had stayed with him a few weeks ago, they were riding F800GS’s that did not have a spec of dirt on them. Did I mention that our bikes are filthy with mud, sand, chain lube and I’m pretty sure we ran over some manure that has sprayed up onto the front of the bikes. 

Anyway, we have some serious stuff to do today. We planned on going to the ruins at Kuelap which is about 2.5hrs ride from Chachapoyas and the last 1.5hrs is on gravel so it is really just a prediction as to how long it will actually take. The paved part of the journey is fantastic, the road has long winding turns and for the most part we are following a river and there are no other vehicles on the road. We come to the town of Tingo which is the turn-off and start of the dirt road. We make ok time on the road in even though the road is very twisty, with switchbacks and narrow spots and of course a few photo stops. There are times when the road just drops off the edge to nowhere, we have to be careful not to loose focus or we might drive off the edge.

We make it to the Kuelap ruins at about 2:30, it is about a 2km hike to the actual ruins and along the way we meet up with a fellow tenant at the Hostal, Thomas Charles or Charles Thomas, either way we have a quick trailside chat then we carry on up to the ruins. They are quite spectacular to say the least, they are perched up on a ridge at about 3880m above sea level. The significance of the ruins:

This fortress is the largest stone structure of South America. It contains more than 450 stone houses. It is located on a mountain higher than Machu Picchu, is much older than the Inca Empire. This Machu Picchu of the North was found in better condition than the one in the South. The Kuelap complex remains relatively unknown in this remote zone, which only thirty years ago took two months to walk out to from the nearest road. The fortress is filled with a million air plants, bromeliads and orchids, high on a mountain top, in this mysterious cloud forest.

The Altar

There were guides but none spoke English, oh well we will have to research more later. We made it back to the bikes at 4:30 and it seems to get dark about 6pm so we had to get off the mountain and down the road to the next town big enough to have a hotel which happens to be about 100km from Tingo. We blitz down the mountain moto-cross style, the only time we slow down is for the really tight outside radius turns as they have the nastiest consequences. We make it to Tingo and pavement in record time and boogy South along the nice windy river road, again it is like we reserved the road just for us. It is kinda freaky in a way, the little villages and farms along the way have a Spanish look to them with Adobe brick fences, lush green pastures with livestock of all sorts and lets not forget the donkey’s, they are mostly on the road though. Thankfully we make it to Leimbamba just before dark and check into Jose’s friends place which is right on the town central park. Another action packed day completed after a supper of spaghetti with meat and rice.

 

The Barren Coast

The town is relatively quiet so we sleep in a little bit but are still out of bed and looking for breakfast by 7am. There is a lady across the park selling some kind of syrup drink but we pass and end up at the same little restaurant that we ate supper at.

Mama comes to serve us and make sure we get a good breakfast of break, coffee, eggs, and fruit juice. I assume there is enough tourists in the area that she knows we don’t eat the heavy breakfasts that the local men are eating. Mostly they are eating a dinner plate of rice with bread, a piece of chicken, some onion salsa, and some sort of sweet hot tea. That is alot of food for breakfast but I guess they work hard and may not have a lunch break.

Pushing our bikes out of the lobby of the hotel always draws a crowd so we are used to the looks and stares as we put on the last of our gear, as a show of respect and thanks we always say good-bye to our hosts and thank them for the accommodations. I also asked him where a gas station was and he waved his arms and said one block that way and then look on left, we never seen the station but maybe it was a private residence that sold gas, in any case we were out of town and heading up, again. This time we managed to put on the rain gear before we got wet from the clouds, it also allowed us the pit-stop to put the fuel from the jerry cans into the bikes as the fuel lights have been on for a while now.

We are pleasantly surprised that it does not rain and soon we are descending again. As we break out of below the clouds we are greeted by lush green valleys filled with fields and livestock. The folks up in the hills are not rich, but they are not hungry either, they live a basic farming lifestyle, doing all work by hand with the aid of oxen or mules. Much like everywhere else we have seen so far in SA.

 

 

We zip through a bit of a valley then it is back up the mountain range once again, this pattern repeats a couple more times today before we find the town of Cajamarca, well actually just a small suburb called Banos de Canon (more hot springs like Radium). The town has a nice feel and we are pretty beat up from all the curves and constant concentration, there was also a 20km section of muddy road construction, so we are just as mentally tired as we are physically. With the bikes parked in the Hotel owners living room we take a walk to the market to get our fruit and some supper. We opt for the street vendor selling roast chicken, but she ended up giving us fried chicken instead. Oh well, KFC local style it is. The lady below finally smiled with us, but it took some work on my part, she was a tough nut to crack. The bundle of bananas and three mangos cost less than $1CDN. We have to pinch ourselves, because at home you know how much that would cost and the mangos would have no flavor. We people watch in the park as we eat our chicken and fries. A stray dog joins us and patiently waits for some scraps, we usually scraps for the strays and to our surprise this guy would not eat a French fry, once again the dogs are smarter than us.

After a quick fruit breakfast we are on the move again, it is getting close to Christmas now, so we wish our hostess Feliz Navidad as we drive away. We stop for gas in Cajamarca and are glad we stopped in Banos del Canon for the night. The city bypass is through an industrial area as usual, but it gave us a nice vista of the city as we traversed the valley wall around, then past the city. Lush green as many others. Today we should make it to the Pacific Coast of Peru, we have read that all the nice beaches are in the North so we are curious what we will find in the Chimbote area. Chimbote is a typical start point for the Canon del Pato circuit which is a highly recommended route in the motorcycle world. We are a bit surprised with what we find along the coast. The first big change as we descend down to sea level is that the lush green valleys are traded for barren rock and blowing sand. The smell of fresh mountain air and tilled fields is replaced with dry air laced with the aroma of rotting fish. The twisty mountain roads that require constant concentration are now endless straight lines with sand drifts trying to swallow them up. It makes us think we have landed on a different planet or on the scene of a Mad Max movie.

 

And now Peru.

Ahhh, a nice quiet night and a really good sleep. We wake up just before the lady knocks on the door as our reminder to get the big dirty bikes out of her restaurant. She was not mad, she was just sayin’.  

After breakfast we have one more order of business to take care of, SOAT, which is the acronym for liability/travel insurance. In Peru it is mandatory to have insurance or the Police can levy steep fines equal to the insurance premium for a whole year. The SOAT office was next door to the hotel but we walked around for half an hour before we found it, again only a small sign inside the store that also sells grain, shampoo, fashion jewellery, stationary, and candy. When we asked for SOAT, a young girl started yelling up the stairs to somebody, then to everyone’s surprise a young lady appears with a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body, she blushed heavily then ran back upstairs only to re-emerge with hair done and fully dressed. She was very helpful but in the end said it would take two days to get the policy, as we had no intention of waiting she suggested we stop in Jaen and try there, it is a bigger city and may be able to write the policy in-house. We pack up and make tracks towards Jaen. The SOAT stop in Jaen is a similar story of two day for the policy and the highlight of our visit to the city is riding through some guys yard instead of turning around at the dead end road, he didn’t seem to care and neither did we. Brenda’s description of the event is; jump the curb, cut through the work area, crank to the right, across the sidewalk, and over the other curb onto the street, hit the brakes to avoid the rickshaw. Once again the smaller bikes come in handy.

From Jaen to Chachapoyas the road is again under construction but we make good time all the same. There were sections of hard pack sand that was really fun to ride as the corners were sticky and the straights were flat and smooth.

There is something about standing up on a motorcycle at 60mph that adds an element of freedom to the experience of just riding. Then the scenery just exploded in front of us as we rounded a corner, this is what Peru is famous for, steep green mountains, valleys that seem infinitely deep, palm trees mixed with cactus and coconuts. There are also rice paddies, another first, and as we drive by I keep thinking the rice fields look like something out of a Vietnam movie. The scenery keeps us in awe all the way to Chachapoyas, which is located high in the hills where the air and water are pure. It is a center point for exploring many ancient ruin sites, hiking, mountain biking, bird watching, or just enjoying the traditional Spanish architecture in the city.

 

We intend to stay a day or two at most, just enough time to see some of the sights in the area. Jose, the manager at the Backpackers Hostal, is very informative and he suggests a couple of local spots that because of our bikes we can get to quickly rather than taking a tour bus or hiking all day to get there. He is also very helpful with finding a SOAT office and directs us to where we will likely get the fastest service. As it turned out the policy would still stake two days, well more like the rest of today and until 10am tomorrow, so that is ok with us. This allows us to take a day trip up to the two different spots that Jose suggested, get a load of laundry done, and still leave town somewhere around 10am the next day.

Chachapoyas from the second viewpoint location.

The first place Jose suggested was the Huanca Canyon, it is known by the locals but the tours don’t go there, maybe because there are no souvenir shops. What there is there is a tremendous view of the canyon, and no other people. We take our time and absorb the majestic views and tranquility of the mountain breeze. Part two of location one is another canyon where there is a four stage waterfall and even more spectacular views of surrounding mountains. There is only one other couple here and some benches to sit on and enjoy the views. We even take off our boots and socks and do a little grounding and deep breathing while we take it all in.

 

 

The second location is on the opposite side of town way way up above the city. The road was a little tricky to find as the side roads outside the city core are all dirt and you guessed it again, under construction. We practiced our offroad skills to the delight of the kids we passed. I guess they don’t see many people standing up while riding. We find the road and snake our way up the hill and are presented with some incredible views of the city and surrounding valley. These roads in Peru are just out of this world, what amazes us more is the thought of how they managed to build them in the first place.

On our way down we come across one of the farmer families taking their harvest into town, a little different than the way we do it in Canada.

 

Ecuador, out with a bang.

After another stellar breakfast it is time to hit the road, first back North to get some gas where we fill the bikes, top up the jerry cans and even fill the two 1liter fuel bottles just in case. The information on hand reads that there is no gas available between Vilcabamba and San Ignacio which is about 250km, which could take anywhere from 4 to 9 hours depending on the road conditions. According to all reports the road is paved for only the first 100km to Zumba, then it is dirt all the rest of the way to the border with mixed reports of what lies beyond that. The reports of were all wrong, the road was only paved for about 50km, thereafter it was a mix of packed gravel, bare dirt, packed red clay or a combo of everything. This was all well and good until it started to rain, or should I say until we rode into the rain. The road quickly turned into a muddy soupy mess, with road construction happening and cargo trucks beating the road into oblivion.

 

The first few little towns are very much frontier towns, basic essentials only, no gas as expected, but we have plenty enough anyway. We wind our way down a fairly good road until we come to the washed out bridge we had heard about, the three workers were optimistic that we could portage the bikes across their makeshift bridge, I was more interested in finding the detour we heard about.

The problem being is that the construction guys did not appear to know where the detour was, we were about to ride away when a taxi pulled up and dropped off some people. I thought I would take a shot and ask him if he knew where this mysterious detour could be found. Thankfully he replied in English and after a few words he just said to follow him. After about a 10km backtrack to the last town, he pulled over at a school to pick up a few kids, then proceeded to draw us a map for the rest of our journey. I use the term map very generously here, it was two “forks” with an X over the road we were not to follow.

Then he pointed off in the start direction and wished us well. He would not take any money for his time or assistance but I managed to throw a few dollars in his lap before he got his window closed. I yelled Feliz Naidad but I am not sure if he heard me over all the kids and the pouring rain.

The map was actually fairly helpful, and to our surprise there were signs indicating village names and directions.

This was an interesting one, there was not traffic circle, just a 5-way intersection of sorts.

The road was not much more than a path through the forest/jungle but we eventually made it to Zumba via the little detour that was 40km long. The first thing we see when we get to town is a gas station, it looks fairly new and the army was checking plates for who was buying what. We probably don’t need any gas but it is not wise to pass up something as essential as fuel. Now the last stretch of road to the border is about 30km and like much of Ecuador the town of Zumba has road construction happening, after a couple of wrong turns and no signs indicating the direction to the border we find our way out of town. We have a few more hours of riding to reach San Ignacio and we have not crossed the border yet, in our experience the border can be a time consuming process but we are hopeful that this crossing will be remote enough to not have any line-ups.

We get exactly what we expect, once we get there...the little road to the border is merely an unmaintained dirt road that snakes through the hills and then drops down to the bridge that links the two countries.

The Ecuador side is very fast, the Aduana officer kept the paperwork for the bike as per usual, and the immigration officer did his stamping then we were directed to the bridge. The short ride, in no man’s land between borders, across the bridge brings us to the Peru side where we find a control arm across the road. Of course we have to stop and then we are greeted by a very friendly Aduana officer who even hammed it up for a picture.

He directed us to the immigration office to start the process of entering the country. First our passport stamps. The immigration officer in the yellow building takes down all our pertinent information then gives us a form similar to the declaration you fill out on any international flight.

Then he says we have to go find the Police Officer to get these stamped, he is somewhere around the corner and down the hill in the brown building.

We find him easy enough, while pawing through the desk drawers looking for a pen he notices my riding boots and want to know how much they are worth. These questions always make me nervous because I never really know their intentions, I answer his question regardless of the consequences and he gives me a surprised look. I guess $300CDN is a bit much for boots in Peru. I noticed how shiny his boots were and made a brushing motion over mine which made him laugh a bit as my boots are completely filthy after riding in the mud and rain all day. Stamp stamp, it is back to the immigration guy. He looks over the document stamp like we may have forged it or something then he stamps and signs them as well as our passports, yay we are in. The last step is to get the bikes in and our overly friendly Aduana officer seems eager to complete this as it is getting late in the day, about 5:00pm. He starts to type the info into the computer but it goes to an “error” screen, so he tries again, and again, and again. It must be the information he put in, so he tries to type in my info instead of Brenda’s, “error” screen imagine that. One more time, yay!! it worked this time for some reason. Then he tries to print the “certificate” we need to keep with us until we exit the country.

The dot matrix printer will not cooperate and after using all the certificate templates he excuses himself from the office in order to get more. While he was gone we noticed that the last person in his entry ledger was 3 days ago, so not a very busy crossing at all. He promptly returns with more paper, but these look different, why was I surprised when he started to hand write the certificates. 6:00pm and we still have to do my certificate, and you guessed it he tries to use the printer again but gives up after the first try and finally hands over my certificate. While all this was happening, Brenda had walked across the road to the Hostal to check on a room, we figured it would be dark soon and it was over an hour ride to San Ignacio. The riding after dark rule was looking a little fractured at this point. No luck at the Hostal, and the Aduana guy confirmed our suspicion by making a bad face in reference to the Hostal. He wishes us well and lifts the control arm, our bikes have been sitting in the middle of the bridge this whole time. From the border it is 47km to San Ignacio, but it is supposed to take 1 hour due to the design of the road, we get on the throttle and roar through a couple of very small towns. There was a possibility of a room in Nabelle, but the town had every street torn apart and we just find our way out and carry on to San Ignacio, well at least around the next curve where there is a road block. The backhoe blocking the road is trying to load a gravel truck, and although we usually just ride through this type of thing the flag person would not let us through, so we wait...now it is dark and we have no choice but to carry on.

This is another first for us as we have never been out on the highway after dark, and it quickly becomes apparent why we avoid this. Cows don’t have reflectors, local bikes don’t have any lights, and everyone and everything in the small towns collect on the highway after dark and there are no street lights to highlight the gathering. We dodge and weave our way between the living pile-ons and are very happy to see the lights of San Ignacio. The next obstacle is to find a hotel in the dark, most hotels just have little signs beside the door, our best bet was to find the central square and then comb the streets close to there. When that didn’t work luck kicked in and after a wrong turn we seen a Hospadaje La Pasada sign. We pull up like a couple of gunslingers in an old western movie, loud dirty bikes, dusty clothes, tired and weary looking for a hot meal and a room. I didn’t really care what the room looked like actually, but was pleasantly surprised to find it clean with hot water and a comfy bed. One thing we had not done yet was get any Peruvian money, the cheery desk clerk pointed down the street but said we could pay later. The rest of the evening was routine, walking, bank, food, trying to stay awake until 10pm so I could push the bikes into the restaurant for the night, sleep.

250km’s 9hours of travel time, and that is why it is hard to answer the common question of how far or long do we ride in a day.

Happy Birthday!

Dec 14

Happy birthday to me! We had booked some massages for mid-afternoon so we decided to spend the morning on a light 3hr hike around the valley.

 

Some of the mural around town

There are some awesome vistas from the trail and it eventually takes us into the village. We are surprised at how quiet the village is based on the popularity of the valley. We see mostly backpackers (they stand out a bit) and expats, small kids and shop keepers. It is not as heavily geared towards tourists, just a regular little town that has a lot of natural food stores and “new age hippie” hangouts. We stumble upon a chocolatier, and cannot resist the tasty looking morsels. This sparks a conversation with the owner Jose, who has Belgian roots but has lived in South America since he was eleven. After about a half hour conversation we carry on with our walk and make our way back up the hill to the Hotel in time for our massages. The treatment I chose was a full body massage and Reiki, Brenda chose the back massage with Facial and Reiki, both were $28 each and lasted 105minutes. So pretty good value we figured. From there it was time to get ready and head down to the village for the fundraiser, Clyde unfortunately ate something that did not agree with him yesterday and has been quite sick all day. Carolyn sent his regards and insisted on buying the first birthday drink that evening.

Cheers

The fundraiser event was very nice, I enjoyed a North American style roast beef dinner while the girls had a vegetarian Falafel with sweet potato salad. Everything was very tasty and we enjoyed getting to know each other and the other dinner guests. After the event was over we walked back up the hill with moonlight to help us see our way. Carolyn called it a night and had to check on Clyde but first she surprises me with a little gift. 

A nice piece of cotton cloth that I have used as a scarf and make-shift hood...so far.

Brenda and I decided to go to the hotel bar and see what was going on. It was pretty quiet but we enjoyed a couple games of pool then called it a night, a very nice birthday it was.

Dec.15

Time to move on, well maybe tomorrow, today is Sunday and it is not a good idea to cross the border on a Sunday. We decide to catch up on some writing and such, spending a nice relaxing day at the hotel and walking the 2km down the hill for lunch. Before we head out tomorrow we also needed to fill the bikes with gas, we like to start the day with a full tank rather than get all geared up only to stop 10 minutes later for gas. To our surprise there is no gas station in Vilcabamba and we would have to backtrack about 10km toward Loja in order to find a station. We decided to do this in the morning, despite the previous comment, as it was already dark and it is never smart to ride in the dark down here. We see Carolyn at the restaurant, Clyde is still not feeling well enough to leave their room.

The Valley of Longevity

Dec 12

I was not disappointed by the jungle mud as I skidded out and fell over with both bikes trying to get up the hill to the road. The 3 staff men all helped push the bikes up the hill then stood back in wonder of how we travel on such unpractical large machines, and these are our small bikes. We say our heartfelt good-byes to Elizabeth and Dorris, and a grateful gracias and adios to the workers, once moving I am reassured that we have the right bikes for the job as they chew up the jungle road with ease. We find our way South towards the Valley of Longevity and the town of Vilcabamba, but for today we are happy with our progress to Gualaquiza, a small mountain town that seems to thrive on tourism, agriculture, and the army bases.

Some sights along the way.

We enjoy the quiet and friendly little town, have supper on a sidewalk restaurant, then walk around looking at the market squares and the small shops. Our room is quiet and clean, but a little warm without an a/c unit. We have gotten used to this as well and the little fan on the wall provides enough air circulation to make it comfortable.

About the biggest excitement was meeting the local authorities at a roadside checkstop. They wanted to see the documents for the bike and our passports. This is the usual protocol but it is the first and only time we have been stopped in Ecuador.


We are on the road early the next morning with the aniticipation of arriving in Vilcabamba. Dorris recommended a hostel 2km South of town called Izhcaylum.

Entrance to our room, part of a tri-plex

View from our terrace

Bedroom with screened windows in two directions for fresh mountain air. 

Modern bathroom with hot water.

It is owned and operated by Peter and Dieter, German brothers who came to valley 16yrs ago and never left. The place is awesome and we too recommend that anyone visiting this area should consider staying here. The rooms are very clean with comfy beds and buffet breakfast is included. The ladies here start in the kitchen early and make all the bread onsite. There is also unlimited coffee, real coffee not instant like the rest of the country, fresh fruit juice, and depending on the day either ham or granola/yogurt, and to top it all off your choice of eggs or crepe. But we would have to wait until tomorrow to discover all this because we did not get to the place until about 3pm, we did manage to have a late lunch of German goulash. Very tasty indeed. While walking from the room to the restaurant we had a chance meeting with a lady due to a large caterpillar on the path, I joked that we seen some of his friends in the market for sale as “light snacks”. She laughed and that started the conversation, Carolyn and Clyde are from Seattle and are in the process of moving to Hawaii, their stuff is in transit so they decided to take a little stress relief break. Carolyn told us of a fund raiser party for the local children tomorrow night and it sounded like a great way to spend part of my birthday.

Jungle life.

Dec 9-11 Misa for short.

We wake up at our usual 6am but don’t feel any rush to get out of bed, we are delighted to see that no critters joined us under the netting, although some did try. Brenda seen these same blue butterflies in Australia.

Elizabeth is a marvelous hostess, plans are in place for a bus ride into Tena for the morning so that she can take care of some errands and we get to experience the market with Doris, the chef at the Lodge. Doris is an energetic traveller, vegan chef, massage therapist, Yoga instructor and just simply and amazing young woman.

She was super excited to answer our questions about the produce in the market and in turn we helped her find ingredients for what would become some over the top meals. We joked that us carnivores  would survive without meat for a few days and that we were totally open to trying some vegetarian/vegan dishes.

What we did not realize is that she is quite the gourmet chef and over the course of our stay she just continued to nourish us with delicious meals and exquisite deserts. She has documented all these great recipes in a book, and for a small donation she will supply the link to the e-book. How great is that, and eco friendly vegetarian cookbook, I can’t wait to try some of the recipes when we get home. Here are a couple of examples of how we roughed it in the jungle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Part of the reason for coming here was to see the Cacao operations, we put on some rubber boots and head into the jungle, machete in hand. The 12 hectare property takes a few hours to walk but we get to see the original Nacional Cacao trees growing and producing in this amazing environment. The Nacional trees produce yellow cacao pods from which the beans are extracted and sent for processing into 100% pure cacao powder. The buyers of the powder then process it into various chocolate products; powder, bars, skin care products, etc. The yellow pods are the original strain of trees dating back to the beginning of cacao in 600 B.C. when the beans were originally believed to hold great power. They later were used by the Mayans (250-900 CE) who integrated the cacao beans into their culture during ceremonies and even in their burial tombs. Later the Aztecs used the beans as currency because they held it in such high regard. The most famous Aztec ruler Montezuma was believed to have consumed up to 50 cups per day of the chocolate drink. Today chocolate is becoming a rare commodity as it only grows in a 1 degree band around the equator, this band is mostly water and small parcels of land relatively speaking. The largest area is in Africa, which Cadbury has tied up and also due to civil unrest there is no chocolate coming out of that area. Of all the remaining lands Ecuador grows the most cacao with a 25% world market stake.  

Elizabeth's horses.

Standing amongst the roots of a very large tree.



Typical jungle trail

Creating a typical jungle trail.

When we emerged from the jungle there was a tour group from South Africa just starting their tour with one of the guides. Elizabeth had slid down an embankment and agitated her already sore knee and thus needed to rest for a bit, she asked if I would mind starting a fire and roasting some cacao beans for the tour group.

This was great, I got to play with a machete in the jungle, play with fire, and roast some cacao beans. While doing so the group was asking about where I was from and how I came to be a guide in the jungle. I laughed and so did they when I told them that 2 hours earlier I was in their shoes and I am just not a normal tourist. The tour group was kids from St. Patrick, South Africa. Their teacher had lived all over South America and was introducing the kids to the experience of travel. He also invited us to South Africa and if we make it we just have to ask for the short, fat, bald guy and everyone would know who I was looking for. The kids roared with laughter as their teacher poked fun at himself. They also enjoyed the fresh hot chocolate made with whole milk, no pasteurizing here. Elizabeth joined the tour and I bowed out in order to clean up for supper, it had been an eventful day and between the jungle dirt and the smoke I really needed a shower.

Supper was once again prepared by Doris, with endless produce available she was in her own form of heaven, cooking and creating so as to provide nourishment to others. We had a delicious vegetarian meal with quinoa and cilantro salad, lentils, and sautéed fiddle-heads. Dessert was a hot mango custard with fresh peanut/sesame brittle and of course a chocolate ball made with pure 100% cacao.

What a day....

We woke the next morning to the distant sound of a rooster, he was a little early at 5am, so we closed our eyes and tried to get a little more sleep. This rarely works and after tossing about we decided to just get up. Doris had made a special oatmeal breakfast; now I have eaten a lot of oatmeal but this was by far the best ever. She soaked the oats overnight in milk, then added star anise, cloves, mango, raisins, and a touch of vanilla. When it was all cooked together and topped with fresh ground coconut it was absolutely incredible, ya I know...oatmeal. We both decided that before we left we have to make a donation and get her cookbook.

 The original plan was to go down river to a Kichwa village that produces honey, unfortunately the guide was not available so we decided to visit a different village that works with the healing plants of the jungle and also has a small animal collection. As our guide showed us plant after plant that had strong healing powers, we were once again reminded how off track our health care system is. Take a pill for everything and then take another pill to counteract the side-effects of the first pill. Here in the tradition Kichwa world they use plants and extracts that are found in their local jungle. They have plants that are used for birth control, arthritis, liver and kidney function, nasal infection and just about everything else. They also have plants that are a natural tranquilizer that is used for hunting, the animals are shot with an arrow that has been dipped in the serum, they can then be caged or killed depending on the situation. We bought some Dragon’s Blood, which is used for healing small cuts and insect bites. It works great.

From there we went to a second village for a Tillapa lunch, followed by a traditional dance and a visit with their Shaman. Tillapa is a fish that the local just can’t get enough of, they cook it in a banana leaf and serve it with Yuca and a bit of onion salsa. The traditional method is to eat with your fingers right out of the banana leaf, this also cuts down on the dishes because the ladies had to put on a dance after lunch. We are ushered into a large palm hut and are given a quick Chicha making demonstration followed by a traditional dance in which we were asked to participate. Chicha is a staple drink that is used as a nutritional supplement; it is not normally fermented with the exception of Christmas when the mash is fermented for 7 days to produce an alcoholic beverage for their celebrations. During the dance Brenda had a slight advantage because she could just copy the moves of the women, there were no other men present so I was not sure what was expected, I did the white-boy shuffle for a bit then the music stopped.

The Shaman visit was interesting; a fit looking middle aged man entered the hut wearing an animal skin “crown” and dressed in their version of hospital scrubs, a traditional blue pullover shirt with embroidery around the collar and waist, shorts and barefeet. He did a short chant followed by some whistling, all the time he smoked banana leaf and tapped our head with a reed grass pompom.

I am not sure what all he accomplished but I am open to these things and it was a good experience to receive his blessing. It reminded me of when I did a sweatlodge with the Nakota Indians at Morley, just West of Cochrane.

All this action was followed up with a relaxing afternoon of writing and relaxing by the river. Before we knew it Dorris was calling us for another amazing meal with an Indian curried carrot desert. Before bed we did some chatting with Elizabeth or a game of cribbage. How Canadian is that. We were awoken in the middle of the night by the sound of heavy rain. The hut we sleep in has a metal roof and the rain echoed loudly for a few hours, all I kept thinking was how wet the steep hill to the road is going to be in the morning.