Rafting reflections

After the Raft Race, Linda, one of the organisers, emailed us all asking for our experiences and opinions, how we were effected (if at all), what improvements we would ask for and whether we would do it again. I replied by quoting the summary from my blog you will have already seen, that I posted when I first got back home, and I also added the following reflections of my experiences in Peru:

"What I liked was the sense of adventure and camaraderie, how friendly everyone was, getting to meet and make friends with other crazy people from all over the world, the constant buzz of achievement prevailing out of extreme toiling. Of course for me and my team mates it was a big adventure for us emotionally as well as we were doing it in memory of Beth's mum- so a very personal fundraising cause for us, not to mention an intense exercise in testing and reinforcing our friendship and bringing us even closer together. Staying with locals was great too- it was a full immersion experience (and I'm not just talking about having a wet arse the whole time!!)

I think the only improvements that could be made would be possibly having a few hints on the facebook group in advance as to the opportunities for bringing/obtaining our own equipment for improvised improvement on the rafts, we had no idea how sophisticated it could be, and were glad we had been resourceful in contacting yourself and Mike in advance for hints and tips, our prior contact with you really helped us, as we initially imagined it would be as simple an affair as just lashing a bunch of logs together!!!

Overall I thought it was really well organised, we really appreciated the support boat bringing us bananas!!

Would I do it again!? Tough question!!! The answer is, I think, yes I would, although I have a few other equally insane adventures I still have to do first (I'm thinking trekking the sahara on a camel next). At the very least  will be back for general adventuring in Peru, and I know Beth and Shane will be back in the future with more Action4Cancer teams.

The experience has definately had a significant effect on me, as I think is illustrated in my blog entries. I have travelled a lot in the past but due to a few unfortunate personal events had not travelled for a while, and had sufferred significant losses in my personality. Doing this trip caused me to regain so much confidence and spirit back, restored my thirst for adventure, and having time out from my regular life and then returning to it has made me realise how badly I need to make some changes, and has definately been the kick up the arse I needed to make those neccessary life changes. It also made me realise I am still able to get out there and have adventures. I was also incredibly lucky to meet and befriend a very special person with whome I shared a lot of personal time, I found to be spiritually very enlightening, and who I will be keeping in touch with.

Being in such a melee of people from all cultural backgrounds and situations is so very important for broadening the mind and also for gaining perspective on how lucky we westerners are and how comparatively luxuriously we live in our modern worlds. It is very humbling to learn of the troubles so many people deal with every day, and to sample life among other cultures. Also for me personally, I never feel more at home when I am living in the dirt and pushing my body and mind to the limits, and being so close to nature. Truly exhillarating.

Thank you so much for all the great work you accomplished this year, it was a privilage to meet you, and an experience I will never forget."

Of course it is only right that I offer my most heartfelt thanks to everyone who has read my blog and who has supported me whether it be financially, by making donations of money or time to the charity, and of course with all the moral support and well wishing. I could not have done it without you!! I still owe Hilary Tunnicliffe at Parkside Community College some hands on snake sessions with her classes, in exchange for her generous sponsorship, so I will update how that goes after the October half term, and no doubt there will be a newspaper story run on that too. Fyf will be back from Peru in a weeks time, and that will be when I get access to a great selection of photos, that I will duly post up to enhance the writing. And don't forget, this month is National Breast Cancer Awareness Month! You can still donate to Action4Cancer if you wish. Contact me directly or see details on the blog post titled "how to donate".

Finally, a massive thank you to my wonderful teammates, Bethyn, Shane and Fyf, who really made the trip so fantastic for me. I don't need to say too much more than that because they already know it all, but still, thanks for the friendship, love and laughs. A particular moment where their unconditional support struck me was at 1am when I got back to the hostel after being mugged and without question, Fyf got Beth and Shane up and we trooped matter of factly down to the police station right away. We were soon accompanied by a mangy street dog that had been hanging about with us for a couple of days, adopting us as it's pack. The dog walked with us right into the police station as if we owned it and noone batted an eye lid! It hung about, and after we left (having been refused help by the police) he trotted out with us and all the way home, taking up the defensive against other street dogs we met along the way. It seemed even when bad luck found us we also found some amusement and adventure. So thank you dear crew, for putting up with me and my disaster prone ways and for looking out for me when I needed you most, for having me along for the jolly and basically being fantastic people- and there aren't that many people you can share the kind of conversations we shared without being taken for a weirdo, not to mention group peeing! I love you all very much, and cannot wait for the next time.

Day 6 and 7: the last leg

Day 6.

Today was to be our final day on the water. Today I was feeling rather sore and tired, after thus far managing to remain relatively ok and energised in the mornings, I was now paying for my prior smugness!

After breakfast of egg rolls and my first cup of coffee of the whole trip (which, incidentally, was disgusting! I thought the coffee would be excellent, but alas, it was not meant to be!), we went down to the waters edge and made ready. We were keen to get going and since there didn't seem to be all that many people gathered ready for the start, we pushed off and got going ahead of everyone. Of course we had no cheating in mind, more that we didn't want to finish in the dark, and of course we were in it to finish, not for the prize money, though we clearly were never going to be in the runnings for that!

After about 30 minutes on the water we were overtaken by almost everyone! This was partly our intention, and it was great to see everyone properly, but most of all to see the hard core Peruvian teams literally flying over the water. Now these men and women were incredible. They were like machines. Their rafts were simple, 8 logs lashed together, with the fronts painstakingly shaved into perfect smooth points curved slightly upwards. They sat or kneeled on top of the bare wood and took only water as provisions, though I heard Mad Mike saying how they mixed their water with sugar before putting it into Camelbak carriers (a water carrying membrane that fits into a small backpack, with a straw that reaches round to the front for hands free drinking), so they could drink while paddling and keep up their glucose levels at the same time. Serious stuff. So with such simple rafts and also small people (Peruvians are naturally rather small), they had great floatation and very little resistance. And these guys could paddle! The speed and strength of them was really a sight to behold, and we hollered out encouragement to them as they powered past us.

We had a hard day, bickering for about an hour before we settled down. The water was awful today, like dragging ourselves through syrup, and the going was tougher not only due to the water, but also because our Josephine was sitting lower in the river that she had done so far, as the logs had become so waterlogged from two days hard at it. Still we soldiered on, with the hope in mind that we would in theory be due to reach the end by lunchtime, though well aware that a reputedly hellish mile or so would be spent against the current at the end (remember the earlier post where we tested it in a motorpowered dugout that had trouble).

Today was a lot about tactical rafting and reading the currents, which was mentally quite challenging. The sun was out on full whack again, beating down on us unforgivingly. The support boat was around a few times, giving us pointers to help us stay in the right direction for most favourable rafting, as the river here was some 3km wide, which until you sit on it, is hard to fathom. We saw a couple of people rescued and towed, presumably too exhausted to continue, or fallen victim to sun or heat stroke. The oddest thing was seeing one team almost on our horizon, towed for a while and then the boat stripped and set free. Seeing this lonely raft drifting along bare and unmanned was rather spooky, and we wondered how other rafters behind us would feel upon finding it, having not seen it be vacated as we did. We were getting a bit bored and fed up, and Beth was wishing for dolphins to come and cheer us on a bit. The dolphins were clearly someplace else but I happened to look down and sat right next to my foot was the most enormous spider I have ever seen outside of a zoo. The poor thing looked utterly exhausted, legs splayed out over the log as it recovered. It took me a while to register what my eyes were seeing until I snapped out of it and exclaimed "Holy F-ing Christ! Would you look at the size of that spider!!!" Absorbed in their paddling, my teammates didn't seem to register what I was getting so excited about until I reinforced a second time "look at this spider!!!", which was met with their attention and exclamation. I poked the spider a bit to see if it was aggressive, which it didn't seem to be. However until we reached land I didn't want to chance handling it with my bare hands just in case it nailed me and something serious happened. So I took my paddle and ushered the beastie on to the end so we could inspect her, take photos, and then position her safely on the awning mast that poked up between my feet. She settled and we named her Peg, as she was missing a leg. I was thrilled by the thought of carrying Peg safely to land and showing her off to everyone! My teammates weren't quite so thrilled (though regularly enquired as to her presence and health status as our voyage continued), so it was lucky that about then, our dolphin friends joined us to fully lift the spirits and give us encouragement.

We spent an age crossing the river as we neared the end (by neared the end I mean we had about 3 hours or so remaining!), around where we saw that raft cut loose. We knew the fork towards our finish line was towards the left and that any current present would be strongest at the edge so we went for it, little by little through that thick and sticky water. We saw a whole bunch of rafts on the horizon more on the right hand side which worried us, but we stuck with our plan and were rather relieved when we saw them finally making their way across, and we congratulated ourselves for having crossed earlier, as it was such a slog. We came across a small rig drilling for oil. There were slicks on the waters surface which were disgusting. This wasn't the first time we'd seen signs of people reaping the spoils of the Amazon. Earlier in our trip we'd passed logging vessels and other commercial river traffic, which was sobering to see with our own eyes and not just in a magazine.

Suddenly I wasn't feeling right at all. The sun was too much. I started to feel fuzzy in the head, my hearing was going, my body felt heavy, and my breathing was increasing rapidly. I didn't say anything to anyone for a while in case I could let this phase without embarrassment, and I started drinking more water and resting from paddling but it wasn't enough. The sun had hit me full on from the front and slightly to my left side, and I was about to pass out. I swivelled in my chair to face the inside of the raft so my back was to the sun, and took the scarf from around my face to get some air. I dipped my hat in the water to cool my head and removed my gloves to dip my wrists in the river, and I told my teammates I needed a few minutes. I recognised that I was suffering from heat or sun stroke. I also realised I had the signs of an approaching panic attack, I'd lost the feeling in my feet and had pins and needles in my hands and shooting up the side of my face, and was about to hyperventilate. My team halted in the water and helped me get more water down me with rehydration powder in, we all ate a snack, and I stuck my whole head under the water a few times, which cooled me and helped to slow my breathing. After what felt an age but was probably only about 15-20 minutes I suddenly came round and was ready to go again, apologising for the delay, but of course my wonderful friends were calm and reassuring and noone batted an eyelid- in between taking snaps of me wobbling about and dunking my head of course! We had resumed our journey and had not 15 minutes passed when Fyf suddenly went very quiet. She had been hit as well. No my friend Fyf is Scottish through and through. She is a tough bird, and I am unaccustomed to seeing her ill in any way and I knew this could be a sensitive moment. We talked to her to try and get a response- she was pretty unresponsive, probably having all the same thoughts I had been experiencing shortly before, but probably not recognising the feeling of exactly what was happening. We encouraged her to get some layers off and get her arms in the water but were rather unsuccessful in getting her to comply, though she would take water so we kept calm and fed her plenty of water and managed to get her wrists in the water eventually. I didn't fancy physically helping her get her hat and things off like I would have done with anyone else, as I felt there was a chance I might get a punch in the eye, so we kicked back and waited. Just as with me, she suddenly came round and felt a lot better, reporting all the same symptoms as I had just experienced. I was so glad she felt better and also secretly relieved that I wasn't the only one to flake out- proof that we were in some extreme conditions and that I'm not just a wimp!

The sun was dreadful. As with the previous day the sunscreen was going on about every 10 minutes but still my burning fingers caused me great discomfort and were rather distracting. We inched ever closer to the end. We were seeing more boats along the side of the river and passed several enormous flat tankers that looked designed for piling containers on top of. They sat moored at the rivers edge, some three abreast. We were sticking to the left hand side as much as possible and as we skirted a cove of these vessels we saw a group on men on top of the outmost tanker we were approaching all shouting and waving frantically for us to steer to our right to keep away from the moored ship. Of course that was our plan and we were bemused as to why they were getting to excited, until we got closer that is...

Under the sloping front of the ship was a raft, as in a raft race raft, being sucked and smashed against the undercarriage of this huge metal monstrosity. They'd paddled too close and been sucked under by the current. It was a wreck. Terrifying in fact, completely flattened, and we couldn't see its crew. As we skirted round, the police and rescue boat were there hugging the side of the tanker near the front to get close to the raft. As we continued past we fished a hat from the water, and later a shoe... scary. It was the first moment of the trip where we really thought, "wow, we are doing something quite dangerous here". We found out after that the rafters had jumped ship with plenty of time to be rescued from the water and all got through it safe and unharmed. Ironically we noticed that inside the label of the straw hat we recovered it read "Lucky Brand".

When we hit the current at the end it was simply awful. We had to pass a few small tethered boats and round a tight and short bend to the left. As we approached we watched another team battle against the current, hopelessly stuck on the spot for an age before they broke through. We were almost on top of them, hanging back as much as possible before making a break for it, but getting knocked slightly off course by another raft behind us, which sent us bucking and spinning as we fought against the dreadful rip current that was threatening to carry us out and away. We fought and fought before turning in and managing to grab a hold of the boat at the edge where we originally started. We took a breather, discussed out plan of action and then went for it. "IN! IN! IN!" We dug deep and strong, hollering our chant and screaming encouragement pulling our paddles and feeling that perhaps we were getting somewhere, desperately trying not to lose hope, but rapidly running out of energy and the will to go on, as we realised we were slowly getting sucked backwards.

Thankfully, some locals on the moored up boat on the corner threw a rope that I managed to grab, and with my right foot hooked under the support beam joining our catamaran raft in the middle so as I wouldn't be wrenched from the raft, I was able to pull us in. Our wonderful rescuers jumped from boat to boat to help keep us to the shore and we were able to move on to the next part of the cove, though still under strain and with the water working against us. Unbelievably, our spider, Peg, had also survived the ordeal. Seeing the waves smash up I'd been shielding her with my foot and she'd reversed a little way up the mast from her original position of sitting head down with her forefeet dipped in the water. We were almost there. We proceeded with extreme caution, paddling like mad across each little gap of water (against the current still) making for the next anchored boat that we could cling to and take a breather. Difficult at one point, as a couple of extremely aggressive and scary looking dogs went for us, trying to reach us from their floating platform and threatening us not to come near while they were defending their patch. At one point I thought one was going to make a jump for it onto our craft. I was thinking, just what we need! Rabid dog attack while we struggle away on the water almost drained of all our juice! It was quite distracting really, and luckily Fyf was able to snap me out of my absorption by shouting at me to carry on paddling. At that point, while battling against the tide, rapid dogs, and out fatigue, we lost the spider. The water was rushing between and over the logs at the front of the panel I was sitting on and I remember glancing down at my feet frequently to check her and seeing she was clinging with just her hind 2 legs and her front was swirling in the water. She was clinging on for grim death, just as we were. I realised it was getting serious and was desperate to lift her out but couldn't take my hands off my paddle for how important and urgent the paddling was at this point. I was going to just chance in and grab her with my hand but before I had chance, I looked down and she was gone. She had given up and been swept away. That was when I lost it. I felt just like that spider, knocked about and exhausted on the water. I felt my hope and purpose slide and a rush of emotion sweep over me. We were so close we could see the end, a gathering on the beach ahead, but we felt so far behind. It sounds silly, but that spider riding with us had somehow become my focus and inspiration for making it to the end. That’s what it's like when you do this kind of thing, the smallest things seem so much greater than they really are, and the simplest of moments become ritualised and revered, a day seems like a lifetime. Once again I started to lose the feeling in my hands and I bit my lip trying to fight the impending anxiety attack and not burst into tears, though I'd utterly had it. I could feel my team mates were somewhere close to how I was feeling too, but probably holding it together better than I. Fyf who was riding alongside me saw my face change and everyone was great talking encouragingly to help me keep it together and just keep going. I could hear Beth sniff behind me and knew she was close too.

Finally we were there, kids were in the water pulling our raft in, people milled around and cheered for us. I felt so relieved, bewildered and overcome by it all. I staggered about in the shallows unsure of what to do. Maunel, our faithful driver from our days in Iquitos had come to meet us- he gathered our things and ushered us in while people took photos and I tried desperately to hold my face and composure together. We hugged each other and made our way up to where everyone was gathered having lunch (incidentally it wasn't lunchtime anymore, but about 4pm- we had been on the water paddling for about 8 and a half hours), and sharing adventure stories. I took 5 to perch on a wall slightly away from the gathering under a huge restaurant building and try and sort my breathing out and pull myself together. One of my friends brought me over a tamale- a bunch of yellow rice with an olive and something else all wrapped up in banana leaved and cooked. I thought I wasn't hungry but as soon as that food was in my hands I pretty much shoved my face right in it, did away with the fork and just shovelled the delicious hot grub in. I also had a drink that was as sweet as coke but tasted of liquorice. It was really delicious and I could feel the sugar coursing through my veins replenishing and refreshing me. I was feeling better already, and then spotted a toad in an irrigation gutter, which perked me right up! I picked it up and saw it was missing a foot! Two limbless animals in one day! I mingled a little, and waited for the prize giving, though was aware that Jordan and his team had still not made it in. I'd been waiting for them to pass us all day as we'd not had an encounter on the water yet. Knowing we were one of the slowest rafts, and with all we'd seen and been through that day I was worried. Then from our higher vantage point, I saw his raft rounding the bend on the horizon, into that horrible rip that we'd gotten caught in. I watched them in the distance, struggling, and once more thought of everything we'd been through on this most epic of adventures.

Beth was anxious to get back and sort out our rooms at the hostel, as though we'd made a reservation where we'd stayed before, we knew the place would be booked up with rafters that night and wanted to be sure of our accommodation. So we loaded our stuff onto the back of Manuels motocab, and also that of his assistant driver, and we sped back into the city. Fyf and I had our old room, and hit the shower- towels had been left out on our bathroom for us, unlike when we stayed there before. Real towels! I can't describe the delight I felt when I saw those towels. Using a proper shower with gushing water and soap, and shaving, and drying with a proper towel, was marvellous!! We put clean clothes on and met with Beth and Shane in the foyer to discuss our plan of action- Beth and Shane wanted to do some emailling before the finishing party at La Noche on the front at 8pm. Fi and I were up for heading straight down there. In the foyer we bumped into Jordan, who had literally just arrived! He had told me he'd be booking into my hostel so we could spend the last night together, but I was unsure of whether he'd manage it, so was pleased as punch to see him there. We caught up and chatted briefly in his room before he hit the shower and Fyf and I went down to the bar for a well earned beer. We sat at a table outside among the street kids trying still to sell us jewellery and such, and we called a few of our new friends to join us and share stories. Soon Beth and Shane arrived and we got some food in, and finally Jordan found us to join the celebration, while the race organisers announced congratulations and speeches over the microphone, which was passed around for people to speak if they wished.

Despite everyone wanting to get on the beer (which came in enormous double size bottles), it was funny to see that people didn't stay out that late, and there were a multitude of bottles left behind on the table, from which only a single glass of beer has been poured before the drinker gave up and had to retire, it was just too much! Soon it was just me and Jordan left sat at our table, drinking more of that wine, and the left over beers. A huge beetle flew onto my lap and we admired it crawling on my hand before it flew off my fingers back into the warm, fragrant night. It was a wonderful moment. We headed back to the hostel and I checked in with Fyf before joining Jordan again so we could stay up late drinking more wine and talking and wrestling before finally falling asleep tangled up together.

Day 7: Goodbye Iquitos, hello Lima

We woke early, but had a little time before Manuel would collect us at 7am to take us to the airport. I was delighted to learn that Jordan as well as several of the other rafters would be on our flight to Lima! We headed out for a coffee at about 6am and there was Manuel, already waiting! Now that is dedication! We went to a bar called the Yellow Texan Rose, or something to that effect. I wished I'd discovered it sooner! It was an aladdins cave of dusty artifacts, stuffed animals and weird curios, with bar stools made from western saddles and stuff to look at covering every surface including the ceiling. We sat under the awning outside and had coffee- it was good!!! Good coffee! Exactly what the doctor ordered, and I really enjoyed the moment we took to do that.

Back at the hostel we met my lot and we all jumped on motorcabs to the airport. An exciting drive at that time in the morning as the city was getting going, flying past the colourful breezeblock buildings, taking in all the sights for the last time, riding with Fyf, both of us probably feeling that feeling of wanting to remember it all and how we felt and everything we had shared together, reminiscent of our last couple of days in Africa together some 5 years ago.

I sat with Jordan on the flight and we talked and talked, also knowing the end was near. We were due to drop our gear off at Bethyns freinds house where we were due to spend the night, report my mugging/stuff theft to the police to get a statement for my insurace, and then spend the day mooching about the markets. I was glad for my new friend to be joining us too, and felt closer than ever as we perused the souveniers and curios the friendly stall holders hawked as we passed, while Jordan charmed them with his excellent Spanish and friendly manner. I picked up an alpaca hat for my sister before we taxied back towards our "home". I was flabbergasted and full of love and respect for my friends when they promptly gave me directions to the house and then instructed Jordan and I to go get coffee together to say our goodbyes, and set off in the opposite direction! We looked at each other, not believing our luck, and found a cafe, opting for one out of a choice of two, that had a name translating as something cryptic and appropriate, yet that I forget exactly what it was now. We took black coffee and shared a slice of carrot cake and wondered how to articulate what we were feeling. After a couple of hours, the evening was closing in and I had to head back for dinner. We said our goodbyes and Jordan said he would meet me at the airport to wave me off, and my heart swelled.

The lovely family we were staying with (teachers who Beth had met while living and working out here for a year not long before we came out here) made us a delicious dinner of salads, corn, bread and butter (and meats for everyone else) followed by sweet cakey zucchini bread. Afterwards we sorted out our kit and all fell asleep on the floor in her kids playroom.

Day 8: Homeward bound

Beth and I got up at 4.30am, and picked up by taxi at 5am. Fyf still had a couple of weeks in Peru to head north and do some hiking and also the Inca trail, and Shane had some business to attend to in Cusco, for his and Beths lacrosse venture in the country. We felt rough and ordered Papa Johns pizzas to eat with coffee in the airport foyer while we woke up and waited for Jordan. My heart sank realising we were going to get called to head through security. We had told him our flight was 7.30am when it was in fact at 7am. Typical! Finally we could wait no longer, and with regret, we heading through the doors to check in. We sat on the plane to Miami both feeling rather empty. We got a drink at Miami and then took another flight from there to London heathrow, which marked the end of our incredible journey.

Day 5: The longest day on the water

25th September 2010

We woke up at about 5am I think, to a carcophany of different alarms, and one of the organisers screeching down a megaphone. Our breakfast today was AWESOME! I was overjoyed to have eggs! Seriously, I was very excited. They were scrambled with a little cabbage, onion and tomato and served on toasted crunchy bread that was a bit like giant melba toast. Fyf and I collected our teams breakfast (we passed on the porridge drink though!) and ventured down to the waters edge to meet Beth and Shane who were busy making some essential alterations to the raft. While I was whooping about our breakfast someone on a neighbouring raft made a "you can tell who's English" type of comment that delighted me further, and also dream of big fat fry ups.

The reason for the alterations were two of our plastic chairs coming unstuck on the first day, we also wanted to extend the canopy further forward at the front to provide the front paddlers with better protection from the sun, and we also decided to rip up and move back the two front seats, in hope that that front of the raft would be lifted out of the water a little, thus giving us better bouyancy and less drag in the water= faster and easier to paddle. Our friends from Pisco were also making adjustments and the mood was great while we prepared for the long day ahead and shared our tools (saw, hammer, pliers, machete- all the essentials a self respecting rafter has to hand). A lovely chap named Brandon was singing a great rendition of a catchy song (animal) by a band called Miike Snow that I happen to love, and I just knew I was doomed to have the chorus repeating in my head for at least the next couple of hours if not the entire day, such as it is when you are paddling like an automaton on a massive expanse of river. Check out this link and you'll see what I mean: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KlBhmiUalaw&feature=related Great song.

We launched our raft back onto the river, wobbled aboard and were dismayed to find that unbelievably, our "improvements" to the craft had actually worsened the floating situation and we were submerged even deeper than before! We were gutted but couldn't help but be amused by the humour of the situation and the prospect of how much of a slog the day was going to be, so swapped our positions about until we were satisfied it couldn't get any better. We set off and after the usual first half hour of aching arms we got through the pain barrier and didn't seem to feel them anymore. Shane however was in a lot of pain with his bad back, that gives him gyp at the best of times, let alone sat on his backside heaving a wooden paddle all day. We found ourselves aggravated that morning, snapping at each other and bickering; team moral was low. Luckily, being very close friends, we were able to address the situation frankly, honestly, and relatively quickly without causing further upset, and agreed that we really had to shut up, pull ourselves together and start getting along and enjoying ourselves or it would be a very long and difficult day.

Once we got past those first logistical and emotional glitches we proceeded to have probably the most enjoyable day of the whole trip!! I think partly because we were anticipating it to be so dreadful, but also because we now knew what to expect, and were better prepared. We were keeping ourselves as dry as possible (with the unavoidable exception of our feet and butts, obviously!). The previous day we'd been soaking ourselves in an attempt to keep cool, though it seemed to amplify the suns effect. We also opted for keeping our gloves as dry as possible to minimise the wrinkly hand effect which was gross and uncomfortable the previous day. We were all in full length trousers and sleeves (beth cooked her bare arm) and I applied sun screen underneath my shirt too as had burned through my clothes the day before. I was also going for a t-shirt under a longsleeve shirt to prevent the top of my shoulder becoming exposed as I'd already burned that bit too. To protect my stinging and sore burned face I stitched my long scarf to the brim of my hat so I could toss the free ends around my neck and have my whole face covered. With my big sunglasses over the top I looked a bit like a bandit, but I felt like today I would really outsmart the elements!

In no time we were having a blast. Knowing what a long day it would be, we kicked back and relaxed (as much as you can when you are paddling constantly) for the first few hours, took in the scenery, we sang, laughed and fooled about, enjoying the weather, the cameraderie and the ridiculousness of what we were doing. Every so often we'd catch up to another raft and have a little chat, swap stories and sweets and pass the time of day. We snacked on our provisions regularly and this made a real difference to our moods and also our productivity, as did the ProPlus that we broke out at about midday, and for Shane, a ton of ibuprofen and paracetamol. We'd also prepared in the morning by emptying a couple of rehydration powders into our water bottles and I have no doubt in my mind that helped us out too. The weather was far milder today which also made the going more enjoyable, with less of the intense sun, and a lovely light breeze. Team morale was high, our paddling in great synchrony, and our technique and togetherness having improved no end. The currents were favourable and parts of the river much faster flowing, though my fingers were still burning badly and a constant irritation despite reapplying cream every 10 minutes. We had moments of pure hilarity when we had to face the challenge of having a wee, which for the girls meant just going there and then in our trousers (I bunked forward off my chair and sat in the water on the logs in front to make this more comfortable, but it took a few minutes before I could actually make myself go, what with it feeling so wrong and also having a cackling audience sat right beside me), and for Shane, standing up and swivelling to face the back of the raft, desperately clinging on and trying to balance without sinking the raft on his corner. The reason we didn't drop our kecks was beacuse it was so hot and humid it would have taken about 15 minutes to get your drawers back up afterwards which was totally impractical and also involved exposing your moon far longer than was desirable. Another highlight was seeing a raft probably about 1 mile ahead of us on the horizon, with a passenger hanging their bare bum off the back of the raft- we spontaneously wolf whistled and whooped, loud enough for them to hear, and we saw the poor girl jerk her head sideways to see us and yank her pants up!! We died laughing, until we rapidly caught them up, rather to our embarrasment. Still we had a nice chat before gently overtaking them and then suddenly being hit by a fierce storm...

We were sailing alongside what seemed some high clay cliffs with roots and huge pieces of stick-like drift wood poking up from the water alongside- not the kind of debris you'd want to get tangled in. The water became choppy, and the winds more gale-like and the sky clouded. We got our heads down and in an incredible burst of power and team spirit dug our paddles deep to fight through to avoid becoming dashed on the banks or stuck paddling on the spot. Luckily our camo netting awning allowed the wind to pass through without dragging us back too much- when we snuck glances behind us we saw that poor team we'd overtaken not 10 minutes previously bucking and thrashing in the water due to their tarpaulin awning holding them back. It was scary, yet totally exhillarating, all beating with our paddles, chanting, "IN! IN! IN! IN!" To keep our coordination, Shane and Beth behind me shouting direction to help us control the craft, "Grace on the inside!!" or "All on the left side!!" and so on. I remember in the middle of the melee throwing my head back and simply laughing and whooping from the thrill of it all, soaking wet, muscles, paddles and adrenaline pumping, belly aching- battling with that river and the weather... it was totally wild.

Before we knew it we had crossed that treacherous expanse of water, the sunshine came out and the river calmed as quickly as it has maddened, and we paddled around a large sandy island and then into a lovely slipstream that allowed us to relax a little again. We observed great birdlife on the banks, the occasional cluster of jungle children who would wave as we called out to them, "Ola! Como estas!". A gargantuan, old fashioned looking, brightly painted riverboat came by threatening to flatten us and we held onto our seats in preparation for the huge rolling waves that would knock us about in its wake. The boat was full of hammocks all hung up alongside each other- accessing these jungle villages could clearly take several days by boat to and from the main towns.

Ever so slowly we rounded the last bend. We had long ago lost sight of the flourescent dots of the other rafts on the horizon as the day wore on and still we were not there, and we didn't see a support boat for hours. The sky turned pink as another huge stretch of water opened up before us like a millpond. More pink river dolphins joined us, their backs humping out of the water and breaking crimson and gold ripples on the surface, lifting our spirits. The sunset was just wonderful, melting the sky pink as candyfloss, and sure enough, a now familliar rumbling began toecho across the sky and we watched an incredible gold lightening show from the best seat in the house.

Suddenly it was pitch black. That last few miles seemed to take forever. We attached a torch to the front of the raft and used headlamps so the support boat would be able to find us, and so motor powered canoes with caiman hunting fishermen (who didn't use any lights at all) wouldn't mow us down, which was rather a worry, and we seemed to have a couple of close calls. We had heard how the support boat would come and tow any rafts left out after dark, and though we saw no one, we were aware of several rafts farther behind us, and reasoned they would be collected first, which suited us fine, as we didn't think we could bare not completing the day's rafting on our own steam. Still, they didn't come. The mosquitos began to bite and irritate us badly, attracted by our lamp light and sweat.

Finally we arrived at Tamshiyacu. We followed the lights on the shore and the sound of our support calling us in on the megaphone. Everyone was cheering for us! We started screaming at them to turn the lamp off because they were dazzling us so badly we couldn't see what on earth we were doing. They cut the lamp down and suddenly we saw a peruvian bloke up to his nipples in the water waving at us, about to be impaled on the sharpened points of our raft!! The locals helped to drag us to shore and we staggered off. Unlike the first day where we'd frequently swapped seats and stood up to stretch, this day we had not moved. We had been paddling without stopping for a total of 11 hours 39 minutes!! The last 2 hours of which were in the dark. We were relieved and beyond exhausted. We collected our life jackets, sponge pads, day pack, machete, hammer, gloves abd paddles etc off the raft and were helped up into the town, which came as a surprise as suddenly before us was a very advanced looking town built on concrete roads, well lit, with plenty going on, as there was a political rally happenning, which means huge PA system, blaring music and such for the locals to enjoy.

We swaggered into town feeling like cowboys, walking through the streets with people taking pictures of us, congratulating us, or simply staring quietly as we mooched by, taking it all in. I saw the scene as if through a movie camera lense, rather than through my own eyes, perhaps because the situation was so surreal and I was so exhausted. We were directed to the block where we would be sleeping- another big room for almost everyone under the same roof. This building was one of several like it surrounding a square of grass with a small basket ball court with stadium seating, and there was also a block of toilets and (bucket) showers. Not wanting to exert myself any further, I forwent a shower in favour of changing straight into clean clothes and crashing out on my matress- thankfully, support had already carried our backpacks and layed them out on our beds for us- thank goodenss for small mercies and those wonderful people!

When my friends joined me from their showers we got our meal tickets (two each for lunch and dinner) and got some food- pasta carbonara with a lovely salad of chopped up beetroot, potato (or something like it) and other salady bits, and some fruit. We ate on the concrete floor under a circular thatched roof, obligatory mangy dogs pottering about, and the welcome company of fellow rafters. Jordan and I caught up and continued on to share some mega jungle wine, the company of some of his Pisco friends, and then each other for more talks and laying out on the grass until we really had to turn in. I padded into the sleeping hall and was greeted by Bethyns immense snoring effort, that I thought at first was Shane! I squashed down in between Beth and Fyf and was out like a light, despite the blaring music from the massive amps that were literally leaning against the outside of the wall of our block, playing the world cup theme "wave your flag" on repeat, as some local politician has changed the lyrics to suit his campaign. In the night Shane had felt something large suddenly upon him and swatted at it thinking it was a bat, when Fyf revealed it was in fact a massive rat- she had seen them running in amongst everyone and they had been crawling all over us in our sleep!

Day 4: The Start!

24th September 2010: The first day of the race.

I was in continuous pain in one form or another, all day. We got up before sunrise to we could pee on the sand behind our tent in relative peace before the masses got up, we got breakfast of a chicken roll and a drink that was comprised of porridge, condensed milk and seasoned with cloves- it was thick and sweet and I couldn't stomach it at all, being averse to milk and dairy stuff, worth a try though! We cast off onto the water to have a try before the race began and found we were basically underwater. Not good! All being different weights, and out raft not being the most solid of crafts, we swapped positions until we agreed we had the best arrangement to maintain a bouyancy level that was acceptible. Swapping positions on the water was a tricky affair, as two people would have to leap over the gap (we had a catamaran design for our raft, so there was a big gap in the middle of two longer floats) simultaneously to prevent us tipping the vessle too much underwater. We practiced paddling a little and got ourselves ready at the start line before the word was called and all the rafters set off.

It was a bloody hard day.

It was excruciatingly hot and we burned our fingers and faces (and in my case, a bit of my belly that somehow exposed itself above my trousers!). The Amazon is HUGE. It sounds ridiculous to say such a thing, but until you are perched on a few logs in the middle of it, it is really quite a difficult thing to process. In fact, even while we were at it our brains seemed unable to comprehend exactly what we were taking on (or why). At times we could not see the opposite bank, and it felt as if we wre onthe ocean or some massive lake. We couldn't just go with the flow- often there was little or no current, and picking up currents depended on us directly crossing the width of the river to pick up currents that flowed the most favourably on the outside (widest) curve of each gargantuan bend. You could easily lose sight of all signs of life and other rafters, visible by the flourescent life jackets that made our beacons that gave us hope and something to aim for whenever we spotted one on the horizon. We were not the fastest, you understand. There were cash prizes available to the winning teams each day, which were much sought after by the Peruvian teams, people who really could use the money. For us however, we just wanted to survive and complete the race.

On that first day we paddled without stopping for a total of 7 hours and 18 minutes. As well as getting hot, sweaty and burned, we also sang and laughed. We got pissed off and snappy with each other. We got bored, and at times felt like we couldn't go on. But of course there was no choice. We continued through the good and the bad of that first day, through the aching of our aching muscles, and we made it to our first stop- Nueba Esperanza (meaning "New Hope") at about 4pm, pulling our raft Josephine up the steep clay banks and stumbling exhausted and dehydrated, yet brimming with feelings of accomplishment and elation, up the cliff into a wonderful rustic jungle village. We were given meal tickets and collected our lunch of chicken, rice and salad, and set about relaxing our sore shoulders for the rest of the afternoon and evening, comparing wrinkly fingers (and feet!)and dreadful blisters with the other rafters (though smugly I had not suffered blisters due to thick callouses on my hands- testiment to my day job as a zoo keeper)There were lots on ants, and after getting my foot bitten, realised sitting on a bench was preferable to the grass, and that boots wree preferable to bare feet! The sounds and smells were awesome. We were nestled right into the jungle and the atmosphere was wonderful. There was a tap on a patch of concrete fenced off for showering under, and getting clean, dry clothes on was wonderful! There was a captains meeting followed by dinner (yep, you've guessed it, rice, chicken (or it might have been fish this time) and salads) which we ate on a raised boardwalk that spanned a large ditch, leading the way from the main village to a small bar/shop area and further up, chicken sheds and a barn with stables for horses. It was so nice sitting on the covered walkway right in the jungle and to chat idly with the other rafters. We found out that the following day would be exceptionally long, and the river different and potentially more challenging. I felt genuinely terrified, and unsure of whether I could cope, as some people had already gotten sick and/or dropped out already. I recall surveying and contemplating the river from the top of the cliff where we got our dinner, and thinking, "Wow. I cannot believe I am doing this. I cannot believe we have spent the day on this huge river. And I cannot believe we are going to get back on it tomorrow".

Jordan caught up with me again at dinner and after my team turned in and kindly bought me a much needed cold beer (having no money to my name after being robbed in Iquitos I was entirely dependant on my friends to help me out with luxuries such as this- and they did a marvellous job, for which I am truly greatful). We took a stroll and sat on a bench under a tree facing out over the water. It was dark now, and I was both surprised and delighted to see the tree lit up with the bright lights of fireflies!!! What a treat! I'd never seen anything like that before and was rather spellbound. The sky rumbled forbodingly and we watched lightening illuminate the clouds. The air pressure was ever so high but it all added to the experience, and helped distract me from the pain of my sunburned fingers.

We turned in- the set up for the evening was a breezeblock building that usually served as a school, with all the desks piled up at one end and the rafters all laid out on thin sponge matresses, higgaldy piggaldy about the place under the one roof. No doors, of course, and cut aways in the brick to serve as open windows. There was an over hang on the roof and Jordan had chosen to set up camp in his mosquito net on the outside of the building, secluded at the far end, right next to were the forest began. Feeling all the excitement of being a kid again, camping out, I joined him inside the mosquito net and was lucky enough to have him rub the knots out of my sore muscles, just as the heavans opened and let rip to the most incredible tropical storm I have ever had the privilage of experiencing. We got soaked! Being under the rain and lightening amid the noise of the insects, frogs, thunder and raindrops off the metal roof, and in the steaming heat, was the most sensual, full emmersion experience I have ever witnessed, and sharing it made me even higher. We stayed outside lapping it up until some guards came and told us to get inside, so we moved our camp into the main building, quickly falling asleep curled up together amid some 190 other sweating, snoring rafters.

Day Three: Raft Building

23rd September 2010

Early in the morning all the rafters met en masse at the town plaza to load orselves onto a fleet of busses that would take us up the river to Porvenier where we would take a boat to Isla de Pescadores to build our rafts and begin the race. After a couple of hours of riding the bus we stopped at the town of Nauta where we were treated to a procession, drmming, and speeches from the local councillors, given good luck bracelets (mine made from red and black seed pods from the jungle and anaconda vertebrae) and provided lunch of rice, chicken, salad and juice in the hall. It was unbelievably hot and humid but terribly exciting to be given such a great reception by the local people there.

To get across to Isla de Pescadores we were loaded into the belly of a huge industrial type cargo boat (very exciting) to cross the river to the isolated sandy beach, where many piles of logs waited. A lottery was drawn for the piles of logs. We were rather unlucky in drawing a pile of 8 rather bent and skinny balsa logs, but soon got to work shaping the ends with machete, axe and chainsaw and lashing them together using steel cable that we had purchased earlier in Iquitos. As international entrants, we were permitted the help of locals. Unfortunately our local "helpers" turned out to be rather inexperienced, but enthusiastic nonetheless and got carried away with our vessel, causing some amount of friction between our team as we all felt rather frustrated with the design and style with which it was taking shape. Still we made the best of it, and nailed on four plastic garden chairs with the legs sawed off, upon which we would place foam pads for the comfort of our behinds, and an awning of army camo netting to shade us from the sun. Pink dolphins eyed us curiously from the waters edge, and we saw the most amazing and memorable golden syrup sunset. We worked until the sky was dark and we were eaten raw by vicious mosquitos, and I cut the name of our raft "Josephine" into the front log, with the image of a dolphin carved above, for good luck. Josephine was Beths mother who sadly passed away from breast cancer some years ago, and the reason we were all there together. Finally we fixed a ginormous union jack flag to the back of one of the masts, accompanied by our 2Action4Cancer" flag (black with 2 big pink feet) next to it ont he other back mast. It looked pretty darn fine, and we celebrated by eating our dinner of rice and chicken and hot spiced apple juice seated upon the craft.

The atmosphere of the camp was marvellous. I felt like I was living the pages of an episode of national geographic magazine, a shot somewhere between some bedouin encampment or refugee caravan, with awnings and tents spread across the back, people scattered about among campfires, logs and machetes cast about the place, the air hanging hot, thick and smoky. Wandering out behind the line of tents and tarp awnings to go to the toilet was interesting because there was so very little in the way of bushes or foliage to shelter behind!! Far behind the stretch of sand the jungle loomed both enticingly and also threateningly. I didn't even make it fully onto my camp mattress and slept on my back, fully clothed, hot and clammy, head leaning back on my back pack, and out like a light, covered in mosquito repellent hoping I would not be bitten any more in my sleep.

Peru: Day One (continued) & Day Two

Here is continued from when I posted briefly from Iquitos on tue 21st September (day one). That night we went to the rafters welcome party at a little bar called La Noche, where we got to meet the other competitors, listen to some announcements and letters of encouragement from previous rafters were read out amid the music and drinking, and exciting evening as everyone was buzzing with the anticipation of the huge task we were about to undertake. This is where I met Jordan, another rafter with whome I became familliar. After the party we stayed out late talking on the street eating mangoes given to us by his hostel landlady and drinking some awesome mead made from honey from bees that live in the jungle, and watching enormous bats swoop down to catch insects attracted to the light from the street lamps- the first of many highlights that would follow.

22nd Sept- Day Two

A free day. We took a couple of moto cabs (afore mentioned trike rickshaws) and then a wooden motorboat with drivers Raoul and Manuel to the village of Belen on the riverside, where the race would be finishing. All the houses were on stilts as during high water season the river rises so high people are dependant on canoes to get around. Some houses were built on big log rafts instead of stilts so as the water rises the houses simply float up with it! The streets were dirt and the buildings painted colourfully. We visited one house which was more like an open fronted shack with a few chest freezers inside, a collection of locals on rocking chairs and hammocks, a mangy dog, beautiful kids scattered around and someone preparing fish from a big tub in the corner- this was a local pub, and chairs were soon pulled around for us for each of us to have a cold beer, which was most enjoyable, despite the early start!! The childeren were fascinated by Fyf and my hair, both of us having a lot of it and with Fyfs bright silky blonde and mine woven into braids and dreadlocks with orange and pink wool- while drinking I would feel the occasional gentle tugging and fiddling of my locks, not at all unpleasant!

While on the river we saw pink river dolphins (an unexpected delight since we are so often hearing of how close to extinction they are)- we were told it was unusual to have sightings at that time of day and we took this to be a good omen. We travelled up the river and the boat struggled against the current, which was somewhat sobering as we would soon be crossing this very stretch of water on our rafts, reliant on our muscle and will power in place of an outboard motor!

We arrived at a floating cafe where we feasted on a huge platter of various local meats (battered caiman, smoked capybara and some kind of fish) with two different styles of fried plantain (delicious!), "jungle spaghetti", a type of vine shredded up that looks like tagliatele and salads with pineapple and chilli salsa and omelette. We tried a delicious strong drink of lime juice and local gin (I forget the name) and more local beer (very nice) and relaxed on (and in) the warm water before heading up to a small wildlife park where we met and handled some sloths, caiman, anaconda and a monkey. The sloths are amazing! They have a beautifully calm and contented aura about them and seem to smile as they gaze around in wonderment at their surroundings. They are anatomically bizarre and fascinating too, and it was a rare treat to be able to handle and inspect one so closely.

After a full and brilliant day I enjoyed some time with my new friend in the evening though was unfortunately mugged on our way back to my hostel by 3 men on a moto cab whizzing by and grabbing my bag off my waist from behind almost taking me with them, and so I lost my money, credit card and camera. Still I was in good company and having an otherwise incredible time so I didn't let it get me down too much after the initial anger and upset subsided. Afterall, tomorrow the real adventure would begin, tomorrow we would build our vessel that would carry us some 112 miles down the mighty River Amazon...