Saturday, August 16

Location: Manu Wildlife Centre, Peru

Today's weather: 27░C.

My alarm went off at 5am. If I'd thought that getting up for the previous days was difficult, NOTHING compared to the trouble that I had getting up this morning. Since our tapir-watching expedition hadn't finally returned until 4am, I'd only managed one measly hour of sleep. This morning's early start was so that go to view the macaw lick – and I spent the next half hour lying in bed debating whether I was really that interested in seeing macaws or not. At last I relented and got up – though mainly because everyone else around me was making so much noise that it was impossible to get back to sleep. I felt cheated of sleep – cursing that there was never a noise-control officer around when I needed one!

I left my small bungalow and walked down the path to the dining/recreation room and coffee. I met Cathy on the path and said Hello. I think I repeated this three or four times since it was still dark and I had absolutely no idea who I was running into. Cathy and the rest of the volunteers would be leaving this morning to return to Cuzco, then each to their own respective countries. I said goodbye and wished Cathy happy travels for her trip back (which involved lots of canoes, followed by a bumpy truckride back through the Cloud Forest). I also spoke with Barry Walker (owner of Expeditiones Manu, and the area's most renowned birdwatcher). He was guiding the birdwatching group, who were also all returning back to Cuzco today. The volunteers and birdwatchers' canoe left at 6am. Our own canoe destined for the macaw lick left shortly afterwards.

The canoe ride to the macaw lick took half an hour – with the fresh air helping to wake me up more. We were taken to another "hide". This hide was really just a cleverly-disguised catamaran. The catamaran was the usual two canoe hulls joined together with a wooden platform. A thatched hut had been built on top of the platform where a group of people could sit and watch the macaws without being seen. Seating was also provided within the hut – a line of bench seats in front of an observation window. Overall the construction was simple, but quite clever and comfortable.

Although there was a small outboard motor attached to the catamaran, it wasn't used for approaching the macaw lick (since the purpose of the the hide was to remain as discreet as possible). Instead, the hide was attached to a cable on the riverbank, and a manual winch was used to move the hide closer into shore, and a rudder was used to steer so that the hide could be easily repositioned. The claylick, itself, was just an area of riverbank about three metres high.

There were already about 15 people from another group at the hide when we arrived. But we climbed on board anyway, since there was enough room for everyone. Groups of parrots were arriving at the claylick and settling in the trees above. The parrots were mostly all green parrots with blue heads, though there were a few different types also mixed in. When sitting in the trees, it looked as if the trees were full of blue fruit because only the blue heads of the parrots were visible, the rest of their green bodies blending perfectly into the trees. Every now and then, a huge swarm of parrots would take to the air – filling the air with a giant green and blue cloud of feathers and flapping wings, accompanied by the sound of mad squawking. These "fly-offs" were a way for the parrots to practice their "escape" from predators – a few "sentinel birds" within the group would occasionally screech an alarm, causing the entire group to take to the air at once. Finally, as if some signal had at last been given, the parrots descended from the trees onto the claylick. The claylick, itself, turned green and blue from the hundreds of parrots gathered on it. The parrots either clung onto the side of the riverbank with their claws, or perched on vines hanging down alongside the bank from above. The parrots' feeding took about half an hour.

The end of the parrots' feeding consisted with our own. Since we had had to leave early, Walter had brought breakfast along with us so that we could eat it at the hide. At around 7:30 he started wandering around hanging out plates of pancakes with maple syrup and coffee. It was delicious – sometimes "roughing it" in the rainforest isn't so bad!

After the parrots, the macaws began to arrive. The parrots didn't hang around – the macaws were much bigger, bossier, and would easily have pushed themselves in anyway. Walter told us that the reason that the macaws arrived after the parrots is that the macaws preferred to sleep in more, and that the macaws were confident that they could chase off the parrots if they needed to. There were about 140 to 200 macaws (mostly bright red, scarlet macaws), and the riverbank soon became a mixture of red, blue, yellow and green. There weren't any blue and gold or military/chestnut macaws since different species have their own locations for gathering together. The macaws also fed for a half hour – suddenly leaving again at 8:15am. It was a rare and wonderful sight watching so many exotic birds gathered together.

After the display, the hide was moved away from the riverbank and our canoe came to collect us. It then dropped us off along the riverbank on the other side of the river, and Walter led us along on a two-hour walk through the surrounding rainforest.

The forest trail began in a section of rainforest that had recently been the riverbed, but had reverted to forest when the course of the river changed (as it does so often after the rains). When an area of land returns to forest, the first plants to arrive back are the wild sugar cane and balsa trees. Other trees eventually repopulate the area over the next 30 to 40 years. We walked through the sugarcane, where groups of saddleback tamarins and brown capuchin monkeys were playing in the leaves. We continued onwards, entering into a section of older rainforest containing a much greater variety of trees. Here, we spent our time watching lots of colourful birds – the best of which were a couple of bright manakins which were busy dancing in the trees to attract a mate. The dance was spectacular – reminding me a little of the bolero that I'd recently been taught in Manaus. The birds would hop from foot to foot, then spin around before flittering across to another tree branch where these simple steps were repeated.

We arrived at the end of the trail after two hours of walking (pausing to watch lots of birdlife along the way). Pancho and Alliu were faithfully waiting for us with the canoe. They'd passed their time with fishing lines cast in the river trying to see what they could catch – but I don't think they were very successful since there was no big pile of fish. The canoe took us back to the Wildlife Centre where we spent the next few hours relaxing and drinking lots of cold drinks. I laughed, because Rick had now started referring to the German family accompanying us as "The Brady Bunch". Somehow, that name just seemed to fit.

We went on another canoe ride at 3pm. It headed upriver, taking 40 minutes and dropping us off at another section of rainforest close to another oxbow lake. This lake contained another family of otters. The otters had been spotted several days previously, so we had a good idea that they were around somewhere. Just as in the other lakes, there was a small catamaran to take us out into the middle of the lake, or to row along close to the banks looking at other wildlife. We stayed out on the lake until 6pm – but, despite the recent reports of the giant otters being there, we didn't manage to see any and I felt a little disappointed (again). But we managed to see lots of other wildlife in the meantime. There were lots of bird, including one very spectacular one called a Spangled Cotinga. It was bright pastel green with white spots, black trim, and several other colours – and was certainly the most beautiful bird that I'd yet seen on our sty in the rainforest. We also found a troop of red howler monkeys and watched them as they were feeding on fruit in a tree along the lakeside. The howls from howler monkeys are very loud – they have a special bone in their throat which makes the calls extra loud. It is said that howler monkeys can be heard for miles. An English biologist, working in the Amazon in the 19th Century, once said that their continuous howling had almost driven him mad. But fortunately the monkeys stayed quiet while we were there – and we enjoyed wonderful close-up views through our binoculars and Walter's telescope.

The scenery on the lake was very beautiful. There were the greens of the surrounding rainforest, the deep blue of the late afternoon sky, the brown/black of the water, and the greens of the floating grasses. Then sunset came – adding reds and pinks into the scene. In the distance behind us, there were thick black stormclouds which made me think that it would soon begin to rain. Walter said that this was a storm preparing itself – but that the storm probably wouldn't hit for several days. Flashes of lightening could be seen within the cloud, along with the distant rumblings of thunder. I didn't feel sure about Walter's explanation – it seemed to me as if the storm was getting ready to strike right now!

It was now getting dark (not helped by the distant stormclouds), so we trekked back through the rainforest to our canoe, then headed off on the 40 minute ride to return to the lodge. It quickly became much darker, and for much of our trip the distant lightening lit up the sky like a fluorescent lightbulb or like God taking a photograph. Sometimes we could see lightening bolts streak through the sky like a giant yellow snake, before splitting up into lots of other smaller snakes which headed off in all directions before fading out. Walter spent some of the time looking for caimans by torchlight. At this time in the evening they usually rested on the still-warm sand, and were easy to spot by the red reflection in their eyes. We probably saw about ten caiman on the journey back.

Back at the Wildlife Centre, I showered, had dinner, and read a little. I wandered back close to the riverbank at 9pm, wondering how the storm was progressing. But there weren't any clouds – just clear skies and stars!