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.