DAY 11. A WHOLE NEW LEVEL

In the morning, I found out that the oil had worked indeed. My blisters had dried up and the pain from the sore skin was not so acute. It was time to start packing for the journey – to pack my belongings and feed some more mosquitoes on the way.

I packed the packraft, the hammock, and the ukulele into plastic bags, sealed them with duct tape, and stowed in one of the compartments under the bed. I have a lot more space now! These things are unlikely to be of much use to me anytime soon. Similarly packed are the warm clothes that just a few months ago I wore at the top of the Osorno volcano in Chile. What a wonderful day that was.

I shared one last meal with Jonas’s family. We had some delicious fish and bananas – it was a simple meal, yet it seemed luxurious to me, and I perceived all the flavours with the acute feeling that I had no idea when I would eat something so delicious again. I gathered all my things and got the boat ready. As a parting gift, Jonas’s wife gave me some hot pilaf with chicken and salted fish, including my hard-gained catfish.

I left this lovely family with a longing in my heart. They stood on the bank for a long time, seeing me off. I have met so many nice people during my wanderings, but I always must leave and keep going so that one day I can see another family like this again. Staying in one place would deprive me of that.

I am back on the river. Back on the river again! I have started to miss it. The oar feels so light, I have had a good rest and gained strength eating hearty meals. There are about 900 kilometres to Iquitos, the capital of the Peruvian Amazon. It is weeks of travelling and adventure. I am already looking forward to it.

A fisherman passed me on a boat and gestured at the clouds ahead. Apparently, he decided to warn me that there was trouble ahead. I threw the tent over the new frame. It was time to put my design to the test. I hope everything goes according to the plan.

***

This is a whole new level of comfort! It did start to rain, but the tent works perfectly well! Just like an old Russian advert said – “now my shirt is dry and hardly smells at all”. Yes, there are some adjustments to make; for instance, the tent does not protect from slanting rain on the sides. Anyway, it is already many times better than what it was.

I weathered through the rain without any issues, only now I was starving for some reason. It was probably the sight of salted fish in front of me that affected me so much. I decided to try it and found some maggots inside one of the fish. Apparently, the locals do not bother to clean the fish well in the process. I decided I would clean and salt it again, and in the meantime ate the one without unwelcome passengers. It was delicious. The fish are big – they are bigger than the palm of my hand. And now – off for Arellana to buy a mosquito net!

I had to paddle quite a bit to get to the village during daylight. Fortunately, the rain had stopped, and I was able to take a quiet stroll along the waterfront. At the pier I saw an old lancha – that is a passenger boat that takes tourists travelling on the river. Well, where is the fun in that. My canoe is clearly more comfortable than this three-deck rusty barge. They say these Peruvian tourist boats do not even have drinking water or showers. People just sleep in hammocks for days and wait for the voyage to end.

When I docked, I met a few locals who were very interested in the construction of my boat. When I managed to find a mosquito net and returned to the dock, a whole crowd had already gathered by my boat. At least fifteen people were curiously studying my alien craft. I explained why I needed the planks on the sides, and they explained to me that the locals do not go in the mainstream on the river. It is too dangerous for a canoe, and many people here cannot swim. Wow!

I had done minimal modernization of the boat structure, and I utilize my minimal experience to combat the waves. At a 45-degree angle, I cut across the oncoming ones. It is easy math if you think about it. The locals, on the other hand, have simply accepted the truth with their mothers’ milk: the main river is not for canoes, it is too dangerous. They do not venture far from the bank. Can you imagine how many of us have learned helplessness and fear that we do not ever question? We feel like we cannot or should not do something because that is the way it has always been. In fact, we are capable of so many things.

Aside from a mosquito net, I also bought some anti-mosquito coils in the village. I could not resist a bottle of soda as well. I craved for some sweet drink. The whole village seemed to show up to see me off. First, they helped me push the boat from the pier, and then waved as I paddled away.

When my boat entered the channel behind the village, a strange thing happened. Some local man, 30 years old or so, was with his family on a boat. I have no idea who he took me for, but when he saw me, he stood up and took off his trousers, then patted his bare bottom with the palm of his hand. Um… okay. They say people do not like Americans here. May he have thought I was an American? I have no clue. Anyway, I am sick of being called a gringo. It is annoying! Gringos, as far as I understand, are white people who do not speak Spanish – usually people from the US in this part of the world. What has that got to do with me?

The general attitude to European-looking people here is quite exotic. Jonas told me that many locals are apprehensive of people with facial hair, the so-called ‘pelo cara’ (which is Spanish for ‘facial hair’). The thing is that the indigenous local population almost never have hair on their faces and arms, to say nothing of a beard, which European-looking men often feature. Besides, there are rumours and myths among people here that for some reason Americans send UFOs to steal local people for experiments. What a miracle of imagination at work.

I was paddling along the bank of the river, getting ready to find a good place for the night. A thought kept nagging at the back of my mind that my newly constructed bed was a little on the short side, and perhaps I needed one more board for my headrest. The village was already way behind me, so I had nowhere to find it. But a miracle happened – just a few metres away from me I noticed a plank floating in the water! I paddled over and fished it out of the river. It needed to dry out, but it had the perfect width and fitted right where I needed it. I will not even have to trim it! I will put my pillow on top, and it will make a full-length bed.

At dusk, I found a good spot for my boat, tied it to a tree and started installing the new mosquito net. It took a lot of work. A gentle rain caused some extra complications – it went on and on, keen on not giving me a breather. In the end, I managed to stretch the net under the tent. My cabin had walls and a huge amount of space. I could even sit. And not a single mosquito would bother me! My boat is definitely a livable space now.

Now it is funny to remember my first days on the river when I wrapped myself in the tent and suffered dozens of mosquito bites, stifled underneath the heavy fabric. That was hell. Now my life seems to be getting to a whole new level of comfort. I am so happy.

25 April, ~39 (358) km covered.