Friday, August 15

Location: Manu Wildlife Centre, Peru

Today's weather: 27░C.

Another 6am start. I packed up my backpack once more and had breakfast at 6:30am. Another walk at 7am. This time we walked along the grassland of the airstrip – remembering to wear long trousers and boots to avoid the chiggers (the exception was Rick, who wore shorts and enough insect repellent that nothing would dare go near him). The aim of our walk, once more, was to look at local birdlife – and we added about three or four new species to our list.

Just after 8am we heard the distant buzz of an airplane engine. Tino said it was the plane from Cuzco and that we'd better turn back and return to the small structure which serve as the airstrip's terminal. In fact, since we were actually standing in the middle of the airstrip, Tino suggested that it would be better if we started running! After a quick dash back up the runway, I turned around and watched a small white dot in the distant sky slowly materialise into small twin-engined airplane. It descended in front of the trees at the far end of the airstrip, and touched down on the grass. A huge cloud of dust billowed behind it as it roared up the runway towards us. Finally, it stopped, the doors opened, and a small group of passengers got off the plane.

Our own small group gathered nearby. We told each other what a fun time we'd had travelling with each other, exchanged some addresses, and posed for a quick group photo. Tino, Rob, and Paula then walked over to the plane, climbed up the steps to the doorway, waved, and then climbed inside. The door closed a minute later, and the engines noisily roared back into life. I stood silently on the side of the airstrip and watched as the plane turned around, then increased the power to its engines until it seemed that they were screaming. The plane started moving down the runway, getting faster and faster, then lifted off into the air close to the trees at the other end of the airstrip. I watched the plane as it, once more, became a white dot in the distant sky then disappeared entirely.

The others were gone, but Rick and I were still here. We met Walter from the Manu Wildlife Centre – our guide for the remaining few days. We also met the group who had just arrived on the plane, a family of four from Germany. We headed back to the canoe (Pancho and Alliu were still there) for the 90 minute journey up the Madre de Dios river to the Wildlife Centre. The canoe made a few stops along the way, dropping off bags of coca leaves (brought in on the plane) so some families who lived by the river. Many of the local settlers were originally from the highlands and still kept their old habits. One of the houses that we stopped at belonged to a guy who was a legend in the area for his strength – everyone refers to him as "Cami≤n", which means "Truck". Walter told us that Cami≤n had TWO wives, supposedly because he was too strong for just one.

Our arrival at the Manu Wildlife Centre was wonderful. The centre was beautifully landscaped – but most importantly, it had REAL toilets and REAL showers! This was real luxury! I was very happy at the prospect of a real shower and the opportunity to clean myself properly because after five days in the jungle, I was smelled and looked a little messy.

After my blissful shower, I talked with Walter. I discovered that he had set up, and partially owned the centre. The remaining shares in the Centre belonged to Expeditiones Manu and Charlie Munn (an American biologist who was setting up lots of other centres in the area). Following the discovering of some significant wildlife areas outside the Manu Reserve, he and other had wanted to extend the conservation areas but had difficulties convincing the local authorities who thought that the existing reserve area was enough. So, Walter and some others purchased a title for 1000 hectares from the government so that they could set up a private reserve area. Ironically, the only way that they could buy a large area of rainforest was by saying that they planned to log it! This caused lots of bureaucratic problems afterwards when the government discovered that no logging was taking place.

Walter and his friends have been adding to the reserve ever since, buying more land whenever possible. The government currently grants land entitlements for farming – so one way to add extra land is by establishing small plots in the rainforest to grow bananas, yucca, corn and other plants. This satisfies government requirements, but leaves the bulk of the land as natural rainforest. It is a strange twist that the resulting farming methods are much like those of the Amazon Indians. In recent years the Centre has grown and developed. It is primarily a research facility but has facilities for eco-tourism as a way of raising funds to purchase more land. A big spin-off is that the Centre now employs local people, teaching them new skills and showing them that it is possible to earn a living from the rainforest without destroying it (some of the Centre's employees were formerly workers for logging companies). Walter is proud of the Centre's achievements – he said that it cost $US 30,000 to establish and build the facilities (though it also included a lot of his own manual labour). It now provides a living for several families, returns money into the local community, performs valuable research, and protects an ever-increasing area of virgin rainforest (currently 6,000 hectares).

There were lots of other people staying at the Centre when we arrived. There was a small group of research volunteers, and the group of English and Scandinavian birdwatchers that we'd met several days previously at Amaz⌠nia lodge.

Alison, one of the research volunteers had a fever. It was suggested that the fever might be malaria. Alison's husband, Alex, said that he was familiar enough with the symptoms because he'd had it THREE times before! Alison and Alex were both in their early-30s. Alison was English, Alex was Italian – and (when not busy volunteering in an Amazon rainforest) both lived in Australia. Because they spending six months in the rainforest, they opted not to take the weekly anti-malaria pills because of the stomach problems which occur as a result of use over a long period. Instead they kept a small supply on-hand to use as an emergency dose if it was required. But, they'd now discovered that the medicine they'd purchased in Britain wasn't effective for the strain of malaria prevalent in Peru! I offered some of my chloroquine tablets instead – but the next hour was spent trying to figure out the appropriate dosage. As it turned out, the birdwatching group contained a biochemist and a pharmacist, and the one of the Germans who'd flown in was a doctor. We joked that Alison would receive better medical expertise and advice here than in Cuzco!

Relaxing in the lodge's small dining/recreation room, I met a beautiful Frenchwoman called Cathy who'd been working at the lodge recording data about macaws. She was very bright and fun to talk with. She told us a little about the work that she'd done, about the nearby macaw lick, and the other wildlife in the area. She'd seen jaguars, tapir, giant otters – and added that a big bushmaster snake had recently been spotted near the camp (I hoped that this was just her French sense of humour!). Rick walked into the room while Cathy and I were chatting. As soon as he saw Cathy, his eyes popped wide open. I think he's in love!

I also talked a little with the birdwatching people (since Rick was now busily talking with Cathy). An English birdwatcher said that he'd been alone in the rainforest, standing very still while watching a bird, when he was approached by a curious ocelot. The ocelot walked up to him, sniffed around his feet, then raised its head and stood looking at him. The birdwatcher looked down, keeping very still. When their eyes met, the ocelot just hissed and snarled before running back off into the forest. Ocelots have reputation for being curious – Tino told a similar story about a friend of his who'd also been out birdwatching. In this case a curious ocelot tagged along behind Tino's friend as he slowly crept through the forest undergrowth trying to find birds.

Most of the birdwatchers were Scandinavian. When they talked among themselves they sounded just like the Swedish chef from The Muppets, whose image figured prominently in my mind whenever I heard them. I hoped they didn't notice me smiling at them! But, English was the most commonly-spoken language since the groups usually contained a mixture of people from several different countries, with English being the only language shared by everyone. One Englishman carrying recording equipment proudly returned with a tape of new birdcalls which the group took turns at guessing. In the meantime, I relaxed with a big book which I discovered on a nearby shelf – it contained a history of Manu Reserve, and lots of spectacular photographs.

After a delicious lunch, Walter led the German family and me on a quick tour of the rainforest close to the Wildlife Centre (Rick stayed behind, sleeping). Walter was extremely knowledgeable about the plants in the local area, and was able to point out many things – including "strangler" figs, non-strangler figs (which look like stranglers but don't actually harm their host) and various flowering plants. At the moment, Walter said, it was the dry season and very few plants were flowering or bearing fruit. People who wanted good wildlife photos usually came at this time of year and based themselves at one of the few flowering trees where most of the birds, monkeys, and other animals would (eventually) come to eat. Perhaps the strangest tree that Walter showed us was the "walking" palm – which gets its name because the tree actually moves! (although very slowly). Instead of having its roots buried in the ground, the "walking" palm has the majority of its roots above the ground – the arrangement is a lot like an old-style straw broom with the roots forming the bristles and the trunk forming the handle. As the light and factors in rainforest change, the roots grow forwards towards the location with the best conditions while the roots in the worst conditions slowly wither and die. The repositioning of the roots carries the tree forward at a speed of about 5cm per year. It is probably the only tree in the world that can move – though it won't win any races for speed! Walter also showed us "Jungle Ivory" – a palm seed containing a tough white plastic-like resin which can be carved into buttons or small ornaments.

Walter carried a small telescope around with him, which he set up whenever we came across any interesting birds or other animals. The view was much better than through my puny binoculars! At one point, Walter was trying to guide us along a section of the path where a branch was sticking in the way. He tried to push it backwards to break off – resulting in a loud "crack!". This was instantly followed by screams from the German family behind us – the noise had disturbed a group of sleeping fruit bat which had now taken to the air and were fluttering around above the Germans' heads. The bats disappeared a few seconds later, off to find a quieter place to sleep. The bats had obviously been so well camouflaged that Tino and I had walked straight past without even noticing them!

We returned to the Wildlife Centre, where I had another blissful shower, and relaxed for the remainder of the afternoon. Walter talked about a nearby claylick where tapirs gather at night to eat clay (tapirs are mostly nocturnal). The clay contains minerals which are vital to the tapirs diet – I guess that it plays a similar role for tapirs as it does for macaws, helping break down the toxins from any unripe fruit or other plants that the tapir had eaten. The Manu Wildlife Centre contains one of very few known claylicks, and hence is one of the few places in the world where it is possible to see tapir (because they're normally difficult to find).

A group of us trekked along the forest trails by torchlight. Most of the trails around the Wildlife Centre are very well marked out, though we stilled needed to walk across logs to cross a few small streams and hollows. After an hour's walking we reached the "hide" – a place where it is possible to view the animals without them seeing you. This means that they can behave naturally without being afraid (if they knew people around, most animals probably wouldn't even show up). The hide was a raised platform with a thatched roof to protect the occupants from any rain or strong sunlight. There were mattresses spread out on the floor, and mosquito nets, ensuring that any long stay waiting for animals would be comfortable. Unfortunately, people going to the toilet around the hide would alert the animals to the presence of people (most animals have a good sense of smell) – so there was a bucket in the hide in case anyone desperately needed to go. The bucket then had to be taken when people left the hide, and emptied five minutes walk away. This seemed a little bizarre at first – but it made more sense once I'd thought about it (fortunately I didn't have to use the bucket anyway).

We lay down on the mattresses – resting on our stomachs so that we could peer over the edge of the platform – waiting for the animals to come. We all stayed very quiet so as not to scare the animals away. After 15 minutes, we heard rustling below. Walter shone his torch down onto the claylick, revealing a red brocket deer munching on the clay. Strangely enough, it didn't seem to mind the light shone down on it (although it did turn briefly to look where the light was coming from). We watched the deer for a couple of minutes before it trotted off back into the forest. Then it was back to waiting. Another deer showed up a half hour later.

It was a very long wait after the second deer. We waited for several hours – during which no other animals came. Most of the people fell asleep – but they were rudely prodded awake again whenever they started snoring, since people thought the sound of several people snoring would be enough to keep the animal away. I was very surprised when I got prodded awake – I've never been accused of snoring before (but maybe it was just revenge since I'd been prodding several others). Meanwhile, I also passed the time watching a group of bats flittering around the trees in search of insects – the light of the full moon enabled me to get a good view of the clearing. The air was full of the sounds of crickets, frogs, owls, and other animals. There were also lots of rustling leaves and branches.

Half our group left at 11am, while the hardier among us stayed in the hide until 3am. Not that it mattered – no other animals bothered to appear. We made the hour-long trek back to the Wildlife Centre, arriving back at 4am and feeling very tired (especially since I was meant to be getting up at 5am to visit the macaw lick).