Theft on the High Sea!! Welcome to the Jungle

At 11:25 I shut down the word processor and closed Firefox. Our bus to Zumba, on the Peruvian border, was leaving in five minutes and Abra was feeling a bit antsy. We repacked our bags and rolled up our still-wet clothes, which we had laid out across open chairs in a desperate hope that they might dry.

As we made our way down the stairs and through the terminal, we had no problems finding our bus, one of only few remaining. We waited outside for the attendant to stow our bags underneath, then headed for the entrance ourselves. The bus was packed, and the aisle was already overflowing with an extra dozen people. We were lucky though, since we had bought out ticket early enough we were assigned a seat. For the first time I actually paid attention to my seat number, and kindly shared the news with the gentleman occupying it. I was lucky again: he moved without so much as a word.

The seat was a tight fit, and we had to tuck our legs behind the seat in front of us, but we were happy to be seated for the seven hour journey to the border. The bus reeked of body odor and puke, which was only occasionally punctured by a powerful floral perfume, which wasn’t much better. I tried to zone out the noise with headphones, and a podcast about fossils. Once we started moving, the noise settled down, and I was able to doze off for a few minutes here and there. I’ve never been good at sleeping in strange places, and was jealous of Abra who was able to conk out almost immediately. 

 

Seven hours later, and we arrived at a lonely building in the middle of a deserted road. We could make out a few buildings and what must have been the town of Zumba in the distance, but it was 6:30am, dark, and we had little interest in exploring. As our bus pulled away (presumable to go park), we were left with the twenty or so other passengers awaiting further passage. After asking around we learned the first bus to the border would be at 8:30am.

We found some lawn chairs to bear the load while we waited, slowly watching the sun rise, and the fog lift as the town began to awake. The truck that would be our bus to the border arrived, and we left perfectly on time. The road winded through the mountains, dropping off most passengers are rural homes, before we made our way down to the bridge, which crossed the official border between the two countries. We checked out of Ecuador without a hitch, walked 100 feet, and were in Peru.

 

Crossing the border.

After a bit of a run-around from the Peruvian border control we started looking for busses to town. Besides the border station, we were in the middle of forested country land, with a few houses and a general store. Apparently taxies were the way to get to San Ignacio, the nearest town visible on a map. The taxi driver wanted us to pay for a full car, or else wait- until 4pm- or until the taxi got full. With no prospects in sight, we bluffed and said we refused to pay more than the per person cost. He wanted $20 instead of $8, and we weren’t having it. Finally, after much haggling, and a lot of waiting, he finally gave in. But he made sure to get his monies, by stuffing four more people into his cramped 5-seater wagon as we drove out of “town;” the precise reason the first car wouldn’t take us, saying it was illegal to have more than 4 passengers in the car.

San Ignacio was a dust bowl, and we decided to spend as little time there as possible. Our final destination was Yurimaguas, and we were hoping to get there Thursday morning instead of Friday to win a day in our itinerary. We had just about 20 hours, and with minimal layover time we were sure we could do it. San Ignacio proved to be little trouble, as we found a motocarro taxi to the van station, and within 10 minutes were on our way to Jaen, about 2.5 hours away. 

Imigration offices on Peru side of the border.

By this point Abra and I had been traveling for 20 hours, with just a night in Cuenca, and a 5-hour layover in the Loja bus terminal to break it up. (7 hrs Banos to Cuenca, 4 hrs Cuenca to Loja, 6 hrs Loja to Zumba, 1.5 hrs Zumba to the border, 1.5 hrs Peruvian border to San Ignacio). We were both tired, and took intermittent naps in the backseat of the van. 

We arrived in Jaen around 3:30pm, and went straight to the bus terminal. The next stretch would be 10.5 hours to Tarapoto, and wouldn’t leave until 6:30pm. Another night bus, at least this one would afford us enough time to get a full nights sleep.

As we waited for the bus, we decided to wander around Jaen for a few hours, mostly in search of food. Jaen, much like San Ignacio was a dusty outpost, though at least this one was a bit larger. The streets were chalked full of motocarros: gerry rigged motorcycles that had 2 wheels in the back, a bench, and a roof over the top. We were starving, and pretty excited about the opportunity to be in a city with a few hours to spare to find a good meal. But after a good hour of walking the streets we couldn’t find a single restaurant that was open. Apparently they all close between lunch and dinner, without exception.

By this point it had gotten late enough, or perhaps the Chinese play be different rules, but we found a Chifa Restaurant that was open. And though we shared the restaurant only with the wait staff themselves, we each ordered massive plates of rice, noodles and some cashew-chicken like dish, sans cashews. We devoured it quickly, along with the ultra-sweet crush soda I was naïve enough to buy. Apparently when I’m thirsty, I’ll buy the largest and cheapest item in the refrigerator, this time at my own peril.

With an hour before departure we were well on our way back to the bus station, checking for a wifi connection as we meandered down the street. We still hadn’t bought out departure ticket out of Iquitos, and were nervous about price hikes. Without any luck in the internet department, we were forced to board the bus at 6:30pm, though we didn’t leave for another half-hour. It seems it takes no less than 5 Peruvians to figure out how to stow baggage, when it only took one Ecuadorian.

The bus was old, cramped, and offered little leg room. The headrest was still wet from the febreeze they had recently sprayed in sanitation efforts. Quickly after departure, Abra’s leg room was suppressed a bit further as the man in front of her thrusted all his weight into his chair to recline it, right into Abra’s crossed leg, jamming it between her and her camera bag which lay on her lap. As she let out a yelp of both surprise and discomfort, he looked back, and continued the recline, jamming her bag and leg further into her abdomen. His concern was much appreciated, and she was slowly able to retrieve her leg. Neither of us had much luck getting comfortable, or were close to any sort of needed sleep for the majority of the ride. Ten and a half hours later, once I had finally reached that sleep, we arrived in Tarapoto. It was 5am, and still dark. As our bus pulled into the stop, the road was packed with motocarros desperate to take weary passengers to their next destination. For a couple soles we were on our way to the bus station that would be taking us to Yurimaguas. There was a 6am bus, and we were sure to be on it. That would put us in Yurimaguas at 9am, with plenty of time to spare. 

Yurimagaus followed the pattern of San Ignacio, Jaen and Tarapoto before it. When we arrived, we were swarmed by motocarro drivers eager to take us to wherever we needed to go. Before we knew it we were waiting on the docks, standing before a baby blue and white mini-cargo ship, which would be our home for the next two days as we cruised up the Amazon river to Iquitos.

We loaded our stuff onto the boat, then wandered back into town to pick up a few essentials. We weren’t confident about the meals on the boat, so we stocked up on mangos, bananas, apples and bread. We also had to buy our own hammocks for the ride, and some tupperware in which to take our meals. In the meantime, we hadn’t eaten since Tarapoto 12-hours earlier, and decided to get some food before the trip. We got what apparently was lunch (though none of our meals really fit a definition anymore) of rice, beans and boiled banana, a fairly standard staple that you can find just about anywhere for $0.60.

 

Looks delicious..... but I think I'll pass!

We also found a hotel, which was kind enough to let us use the internet for 15 minutes to book out ticket out of Iquitos. However, 1pm was quickly approaching, and we had to get back to the boat- or else miss departure- and were unable to complete our purchase.

We were the last passengers on before Eduardo IV slowly left port and headed for the Amazon. The lower deck was loaded with 9 cows, and pallets of fresh eggs. The upper two decks were for passengers, and while there were a few cabins, most of the 40-or-so passengers set up hammocks on the open decks.

Loading up the boat.

The small boat next to us left first. But, we passed them later!

Pulling out of Yurimaguas, Peru.

The shower and toilet.

What we lacked in privacy we made up for in atmosphere, as we shared space with locals. We were the only tourists on board, and loving it. We spent the next two days laying about in our hammocks, watching the brown water and the green jungle pass by, with the occasional house or village on the water’s shores. We’ve each taken to the book The Firm, by John Grisham, and took turns reading it and playing solitaire. At 6:30am, 11:30am, and 5:30pm the boat’s bell would ring, and we’d all file in line downstairs with our tupperware to be fed, our meals usually consisting of rice, beans, boiled banana and some form of meat.  

We made a few stops along our way... to pick and drop off cargo.

There was a lot of down time...

Click on me to make me bigger!

Our first dinner on deck.

The first night I slept without a problem. I was so exhausted I was hardly bothered by the awkward position I was forced in because of the hammock. The second night I couldn’t get to sleep as our neighbor blared Peruvian Hannah Montana on his boombox. I spent the evening swaying back and forth, watching an exotic Peruvian girl appear, disappear, and reappear behind my hammock. 

 

While the first night was insect-free, the second night was insect-ridden, and I constantly felt the crawling between my bare back and legs, and I would periodically reach down the brush them away. After I assumed everyone was asleep, I crept out of my hammock, and across the crunch, bug-covered deck to turn off what was now some Shania Twain-esque country song. But no sooner had I returned to my hammock was the music back on, and my sleepless night continued.

 

Breakfast.

What a little wind can do... Should have seen it the day before!

They really need to take some cooking lessons from Ecuador or Colombia or anywhere else on their banana cooking...

8pm stop in Nauta, Peru, where most of the passengers got off.

We were awoken at 6am, as we pulled up to port in Iquitos. Iquitos is actually a huge city: 370,000 in Northeastern Peru, in the middle of the Amazon rainforest. It’s the largest city in the world unreachable by road, hence our awesome entrance.

Sunrise as we entered into Iquitos.

Our first stop in Iquitos... just a inspection stop I guess...

 

After docking, we watched as our cargo was offloaded. We saw some street boys collecting plastic bottles and scooping them up out of the garbage-infested river. They were all about five to seven years old, shoeless, and picking up whatever they could find. This particular morning they were eating mango.

Once most of the cargo was unloaded, and most of the passengers had long since disappeared, we decided to make our way into the city. As we strapped our luggage onto our backs we realized my small, grey, REI daypack was missing. Though I was sure it was there not 5 minutes earlier, I searched the ship in case I had misremembered. But the reality became clear. As Abra and I were captivated by all the activity in the port, we hadn’t paid any heed to our luggage, and someone- surely a kid- had run off with the smallest, and surely the most valuable, bag.

Fortunately, he hadn’t gone for Abra’s day pack, which lay unzipped, right next to the grey one, and contained thousands of dollars worth of camera equipment and her passport. Instead, he went for my bag, which held a leaky bladder, 4 bananas, 2 apples, and 2 delicious mangos.

 

As we loaded up our gear into an awaiting motocarro, I took one last look at the cargo ship we had called home for the last 2 days. It was odd, giving up and turning our backs on something we knew was rightfully ours, but we could do nothing about it. As we pulled away I made one more look for the little garbage boys, but couldn’t find them.

Welcome to the jungle.

Posted by Hans, Photos by Abra