Journey into Jungle Paradise

Friday- June 26 - Journey into Jungle Paradise

We are going to La Selva Jungle Lodge today. La Selva is on the Napo River, a major tributary of the Amazon. We have a long day of traveling ahead. Our wake up call is at 7:00 A.M. and we quickly rearrange our luggage to leave one suitcase at the hotel. Breakfast is the usual uninspired hotel buffet and our driver arrives precisely at 8:30 to take us to the airport. I am slightly anxious since we still have no official vouchers for the trip, nor plane tickets for this morning’s flight, but the La Selva representative is waiting and gathers her flock together. A couple from Canada and half dozen Danish travelers are also going to La Selva. We introduce ourselves and try to remember the unusual Danish names of our fellow travelers. They all speak impeccable English and we wait together in an upscale executive business center until our plane is ready to board. Art tries to send e-mail to my father and Alisha, but is unsuccessful. The plane is only half-full and most of us settle into window seats for the 30-minute flight to Lago Agrio. At first, it seems that we may taxi all the way, but after a 45-minute delay, we are eventually cleared for take off and are soon above the cloud level with spectacular views of snow-capped mountains piercing through the cumulus cloud cover. Much of Ecuador has been formed by volcanic activity and this area is known as the rim of fire. I flash back to an earlier trip to Ecuador five years ago. Alisha, John and I flew to Kapawi Jungle Lodge, also on the Napo River, and we had a memorable stay. Unfortunately, due to the weather and some mysterious circumstances, one of our two return flights to Quito was canceled and instead, we were bussed for 8 hours in torrential rain along treacherous highland roads. The bus wound upwards along narrow roads with unobstructed views down into the gorges below. There were few guardrails, minimal road shoulders and sheer drops to the valley floor. John tells me that he saw the rusted and rumpled remains of a bus below his window view at one of the hairpin turns.

At Lago Agrio we are loaded onto a bus for a two hour drive to Coca where we will take an open, motorized boat another 2 1/2 hours up the Napo river. Happily, this bus ride is non-eventful except for temporarily misplacing our Canon camera. I feel responsible for the missing camera, most crucial for our entire trip. I am relieved when Art discovers it tucked inside a pocket of his backpack; but the angst in the interim takes its toll on our spirits. The bus is far from luxurious and the scratched and tinted windows make it difficult to look out. Worn curtains hang down by the few open windows obstructing our view. I crane my neck to the side to look out a crack of open window and watch the countryside wiz past. I am grateful to be on sitting on the right hand side of the bus, less able to see the oncoming oil tankers thundering towards us on this two-lane highway. I hear the regular whoosh of the trucks as they pass and note the boldly written FLAMABLE signs on the sides of the tankers. A 24" diameter pipeline runs for miles along the side of the road. Ecuador has plenty of oil and they are actively drilling and piping it. I see a Halliburton sign posted on the gate of a large oil facility and observe several flaming gas vents in the distance. I wonder about the environmental impact all this is having. Eventually we pass through Coca and reach the Napo River. We have a 30-minute break at the dock before boarding our motorized boat for La Selva Lodge. The dock is adjacent to a hotel and restaurant and the hotel has a shaded garden strip where tamed toucans, green parrots and spider monkeys entertain the waiting tourists. Most likely, this is not environmentally correct, but the toucans are curious and animated clowns and they delight John and me. I kneel down to the level of the birds and a toucan hops up to me and begins picking at the buckle of my purse. A small green parrot comes up behind and I feel him nibbling on the strap to my sandal. I stand quickly lest he mistake my toe for the sandal strap and see two cavorting squirrel monkeys hanging in the open doorway behind me. The uncomfortable bus ride is immediately forgotten.


We don life vests and our group boards the open motorized canoe. I sit between Art and John intent on giving them the outside view, but quickly discover that the inside seat is the better choice as the spray from the river showers Art and John. Our guide passes out La Selva water bottles and cloth packed box lunches and our group eats tuna and egg salad sandwiches and passion fruit as we motor downriver towards La Selva. The river is extremely wide and opaque with sediment. I begin to notice flotsam and jetsam floating in the river; oily bubbles and solid "icebergs" of white foam. I am disappointed and disgusted to see this pollution and keep my mouth clenched tightly shut to avoid ingesting the spray from the river. Sometime later on, the couple in front of us asks our guide about the bubbles and the foam. She tells us that the pounding of the rain releases oils from the plants that form these oily, cellulose bubbles on the waters surface. She tells us that it is not pollution, and that the river is healthy. The sky turns dark and rubber ponchos are passed out to all of the passengers. Putting the ponchos on involves removing our life vests and layering properly and we no sooner have the ponchos on when the rain begins. I pull my head under like a turtle in a shell and remain undercover for 15 or 20 minutes until the rain lessens. The sky clears and the afternoon light is lovely, illuminating the lush jungle on either side. Eventually we arrive at the transitioning dock for La Selva and disembark up onto a grassy clearing on the bank of the river. There is a simple toilet for the women and the men are directed into the forest. Our luggage is loaded into a smaller motorized canoe and we are led, single file, into the forest along a raised boardwalk path. The boardwalk is made of bamboo and is slippery with moss and the afternoon rain. Below the boardwalk is the jungle floor; carpeted with leaves and thick with gooey mud and collected water in places. We walk cautiously for 15 minutes, carrying our hand luggage being careful not to slip. The boardwalk cuts through the forest and emerges on an inlet of a black water lagoon. A black water lagoon is an isolated body of water fed mostly by rainwater. The water in these lagoons gets its color from the decomposed leaves of the forest, making the water a dark tea color. Next, we board two much smaller paddle canoes for the final leg of our journey and we glide through the dark water, the lush jungle close on either side of us. The inlet opens up onto a larger lake and we can see the thatched roof of the lodge at the far side. It is late afternoon and the light on the surrounding forest is a magical rosy color. Three preteen girls are jumping from the dock into the lake and I imagine that they will be pleased to have a handsome 16-year-old boy to flirt with. We dock below the lodge and ascend a rustic wooden staircase to the lodge above.


Other guests are gathered in the public room of the lodge, playing games and enjoying a before dinner cocktail. It is a large circular room with a bamboo floor and a high conical thatched roof. We collapse into three of the low rattan chairs and are welcomed with a pretty fruit and rum drink served in a classic martini glass. After a brief orientation, we are assigned our rooms, but linger for some time in this lounge area, meeting the other guests and watching the sun fade on the jungle beyond. A bamboo boardwalk, lined with flowering tropical plants, leads to the many thatched bungalows. The grounds are lush and beautiful, truly a jungle paradise. Our bungalow is a a triple with a double bed and two single beds, all with gossamer mosquito netting tied above an overhead bed frame and ready to pull down, cocoon style for the night.. It is a simple structure built on stilts and constructed of bamboo. The bamboo floor is uneven and there are cracks through many of the connecting corners where daylight, or moonlight shines through. Our private bathroom has an on demand hot or cold shower and a colorful hammock swings from our veranda. This will be our home for the next four nights.

Dinner is served family style and the spirits of the guests are lively. We sit beside the Canadian Couple, Sid and Marilyn and a group of four women from Florida. The meal begins with a hearty bowl of soup, followed by a plate of beef, smothered in a thick and salty sauce, fried sweet potatoes and a cucumber salad. A decorative radish is carved into a flower and set on top of an uncooked slab of eggplant. We shortly surmise, that the garnishes are not intended for consumption and that the cook has a heavy hand with the salt. The food is adequate, but not memorable. After dinner, we are assigned our guide, divided into groups and the following days schedule is disclosed. Paulo is our naturalist guide and Adolpho is our indigenous guide. Our excursions will be shared with Sid, Marilyn and Rebecca, a young veterinarian from Palo Alto. Paulo is charming, his English impeccable and we will discover that his knowledge of the jungle, and experience as a guide is superb. John has made friends with the three girls and is playing cards with them, already the center of their attention. We are pleased that John is gregarious and will jump right into most any situation.