#Amazon Life Iquitos

[chaletnz]

Amazon: San Rafael Rio Amazonas

To my surprise, the breakfast on my final morning at Maniti Camp was pancakes served with sugar cane syrup and butter, as well as the usual spread of bread and jam, oranges and bananas. I sat with an Australian guy for breakfast and he told me about how he was living in the Netherlands at the moment, I shared about my time living in Amsterdam. He was quite full of himself though so this 20 minute exchange was more than enough! I took a quick cold shower and got ready for my last little excursion which would be to San Rafael Rio Amazonas, a village just down the river. It was a functional “large” village with power from 6pm to 12am (so fancy!). They also had a school which taught from kindergarten to age 17-18, several shops, a butterfly breeding facility (which brought in the tourist/government money). Rodrigo told me how teachers can live in the village for free with housing provided by the school, earning around 2500-3000 soles ($650-800 USD) per month but trips to Iquitos cost 20 soles (about $5 USD) each way making it a very isolating experience if they are from the city and not used to jungle life. Rodrigo bought us a couple cups of an orange coloured juice that a lady was selling in the town centre. I was a little hesitant to try it at first but it was delicious and refreshing! We then walked all around the town, seeing trees with starfruit, coconut, more giant limes, and the ayahuasca root. When the root is cut, the pattern inside looks like a flower or rose. It doesn’t grow naturally, so the shamans will plant the root where they need it to grow and easily harvest for their ceremonies. We reached a water tap at the edge of the town, they have a communal filtered water tap where everyone can fill up their daily water allowance at 6am and 6pm when the tap is unlocked. Once back at the camp, I finished packing up my bag and had lunch of spicy fish nuggets with yellow rice, plantain chips, and watermelon then went to sit and wait for the boat back to Iquitos. I took my seat opposite the American couple and spent most of the ride judging them. She put on a baby voice and seemed very immature so I am not surprised they back out of the ayahuasca ceremony. He was still wearing his heavy black jeans, but had finally ditched the long sleeve shirt for a singlet. Besides us tourists, a bunch of locals rode the boat with us to the city, there was even a guy who brought a chicken with its legs bound and was laid down under the seat for the journey. Once back in Iquitos, Rodrigo arranged a mototaxi to take me to my next hotel, I bid him farewell and I could then enjoy my air conditioning and comfortable bed at last!

[support1212]

trips to the amazon,

trips to the amazon,

The Amazon Rainforest, often referred to as the "lungs of the Earth," is one of the most biodiverse regions on the planet. Spanning over 5.5 million square kilometers across nine South American countries, the Amazon offers an unparalleled adventure for nature enthusiasts, thrill-seekers, and anyone looking to experience one of the last great frontiers on Earth. Here’s everything you need to know to plan an unforgettable trip to this incredible destination.

Why Visit the Amazon? The Amazon is a living, breathing entity, home to an estimated 390 billion individual trees, 2.5 million insect species, tens of thousands of plants, and over 2,000 birds and mammals. It provides critical ecological functions, including climate regulation and carbon dioxide absorption. A visit to the Amazon is not just a trip; it’s a journey into the very essence of our planet’s ecological and biological wealth.

Planning Your Trip Best Time to Visit The Amazon can be visited year-round, but the experience varies depending on the season. The wet season (December to May) sees higher water levels, allowing for easier navigation by boat but also more rain. The dry season (June to November) offers better hiking conditions and more opportunities to see wildlife as animals congregate around dwindling water sources.

Entry Points The most common entry points to the Amazon are through Brazil, Peru, Ecuador, and Bolivia. Key cities like Manaus in Brazil, Iquitos in Peru, and Coca in Ecuador serve as gateways to various parts of the rainforest. Each location offers unique experiences and access to different parts of the Amazon Basin.

Top Activities Wildlife Watching The Amazon is a haven for wildlife enthusiasts. Guided tours provide opportunities to spot anacondas, jaguars, capybaras, pink river dolphins, and a myriad of bird species. Nighttime excursions offer a chance to see nocturnal creatures and the symphony of sounds that define the Amazonian night.

River Cruises One of the best ways to explore the Amazon is by taking a river cruise. These range from luxurious vessels to basic boats, each offering a unique way to experience the river's vast network of waterways. Cruises often include guided excursions, visits to indigenous communities, and chances to fish for piranhas.

Jungle Treks For the adventurous, jungle treks provide an immersive way to experience the Amazon. Knowledgeable guides lead hikes through dense forest, revealing medicinal plants, hidden wildlife, and the secrets of survival in the jungle. Some treks even include overnight camping for a true wilderness experience.

Indigenous Culture The Amazon is home to numerous indigenous communities who have lived in harmony with the forest for centuries. Visiting these communities offers insights into their traditions, crafts, and way of life. It’s a unique opportunity to learn about sustainable living and the deep connection between people and nature.

Tips for a Successful Trip Pack Wisely: Light, moisture-wicking clothing, sturdy hiking boots, insect repellent, and a good rain jacket are essential. Stay Healthy: Consult a travel doctor about vaccinations and malaria prophylaxis. Drink only bottled or purified water. Respect Nature: Follow the Leave No Trace principles. Avoid disturbing wildlife and do not remove anything from the natural environment. Choose Responsible Tours: Select tour operators committed to sustainable and responsible tourism. This ensures your visit supports conservation efforts and local communities. Final Thoughts A trip to the Amazon is more than a vacation; it’s a life-changing experience that deepens your appreciation for the natural world. Whether navigating its winding rivers, trekking through its dense jungles, or connecting with its indigenous peoples, the Amazon promises an adventure filled with wonder and discovery. Prepare well, respect the environment, and open yourself to the marvels of one of Earth’s most extraordinary places.

[digitalmisbah27]

Title: "Discover the Hidden Gems of South America: A Journey of a Lifetime"

Introduction: Welcome to an enchanting journey through the heart of South America, a land of rich cultural heritage, breathtaking landscapes, and unique experiences waiting to be explored. South America is a continent that never fails to captivate the traveler's soul with its diverse destinations, and in this article, we will guide you through some of the most enchanting places that should be on every adventurer's bucket list.

Machu Picchu, Peru: Our journey begins in Peru, home to the iconic Machu Picchu. This ancient Incan citadel, nestled high in the Andes, is one of the world's most famous archaeological sites. Hike the Inca Trail and marvel at the breathtaking scenery as you discover the mystique of this UNESCO World Heritage site.

Rio de Janeiro, Brazil: Next stop, Brazil's vibrant Rio de Janeiro, where you can experience the electrifying energy of Carnival, soak up the sun on Copacabana Beach, and visit the iconic Christ the Redeemer statue, offering panoramic views of the city and its lush surroundings.

Patagonia, Argentina and Chile: For nature enthusiasts, Patagonia is a must-visit destination. Straddling both Argentina and Chile, this region boasts glaciers, fjords, and towering mountains. Explore the awe-inspiring Torres del Paine National Park, go trekking on a glacier, and immerse yourself in the pristine wilderness of the southernmost tip of the Americas.

Galápagos Islands, Ecuador: Ecuador's Galápagos Islands are a living testament to Charles Darwin's theory of evolution. These remote and pristine islands offer incredible opportunities for wildlife encounters with giant tortoises, marine iguanas, and blue-footed boobies. Snorkel in crystal-clear waters to get up close and personal with an array of marine life.

Amazon Rainforest, Peru and Brazil: Delve into the heart of the world's largest tropical rainforest, the Amazon. Whether you choose to explore from Iquitos, Peru, or Manaus, Brazil, you'll encounter unparalleled biodiversity. Take a boat ride along winding tributaries, spot elusive wildlife, and learn about indigenous cultures.

Uyuni Salt Flats, Bolivia: Bolivia's Salar de Uyuni is the largest salt flat on Earth, creating a surreal mirror effect when covered with a thin layer of water. Visit this otherworldly landscape, where endless horizons merge into the sky, making it a photographer's paradise.

Easter Island, Chile: In the middle of the Pacific Ocean, Easter Island is home to the enigmatic moai statues, a UNESCO World Heritage site. Explore the history and mystery of these colossal sculptures while enjoying the island's unique Polynesian culture.

Conclusion: South America is a continent that truly offers a journey of a lifetime. From ancient wonders to natural marvels, this diverse region is a paradise for travelers seeking adventure, culture, and breathtaking landscapes. Whether you are trekking through the Andes, dancing samba in Rio de Janeiro, or exploring the wildlife-rich Galápagos, South America has something for everyone. So pack your bags, embark on an unforgettable adventure, and make memories that will last a lifetime in this mesmerizing part of the Misbah world travel..

[kenenete]

From Shipibo Tradition to Modern Healing: The Kene Nete Story

In the heart of the Amazon rainforest, nestled away from the modern world, lies a haven of healing and spiritual discovery – Kene Nete. This authentic Ayahuasca and Master Plant Dieta Retreat, located in the village of Pahoyan, Peru, is more than just a retreat; it's a journey into the ancient traditions of the Shipibo people. Join us as we delve into the rich history and profound mission of Kene Nete, where personal and authentic healing takes precedence.

Unveiling Kene Nete: An Introduction

A Shipibo Family's Legacy

Kene Nete is a testament to the rich traditions of the Shipibo people, passed down through generations. Situated in the depths of the Amazon rainforest, the retreat is run by a Shipibo family deeply rooted in their ancestral knowledge. At Kene Nete, you are not just a guest; you become part of a holistic healing experience that has been refined over centuries.

The Medicine of the Amazon

At the heart of Kene Nete's offerings are authentic Ayahuasca ceremonies and Master Plant dietas. These ceremonies are held every other night, each guided by experienced Shipibo shamans. But what makes Kene Nete truly unique is its commitment to staying true to the Shipibo way – a tradition that sets it apart from the Rainforest Healing Center.

Kene Nete's Mission: Personal and Authentic Healing

A Retreat Unlike Any Other

Modern retreats often follow a 'one-size-fits-all' approach, prioritizing revenue over the individual needs of their guests. At Kene Nete, the focus is on crafting a deeply personal and authentic healing experience. We believe that the only way to achieve profound transformation is through individualized care and attention.

The Origins of Kene Nete

To understand the essence of Kene Nete, we must trace its roots. Maestro Esteban and Maestra Orlinda, the guiding forces behind Kene Nete, began their healing journeys in their own Shipibo communities. Seeking to share their wisdom and healing skills, they ventured into the world of Westernized retreats in Pucallpa and Iquitos. However, they soon realized that these retreats did not align with the sacred Shipibo traditions they held dear.

Despite their efforts to voice their concerns, their message fell on deaf ears. This frustration and longing for true authenticity sowed the seeds of Kene Nete.

The Formation of Kene Nete

In 2020, fate brought Esteban and Orlinda together with Urban, a Swedish visionary exploring alternative healing practices for the Western world. They shared a vision – to create an affordable Ayahuasca retreatdeeply rooted in Shipibo traditions, just outside their home village. Their aim was simple: to run a retreat that followed the sacred traditions and healing arts of their Shipibo tribe.

Months of dedication and hard work culminated in the birth of Kene Nete, which welcomed its first guest in April 2021. It was a dream realized – a sanctuary where ancient wisdom met modern seekers.

The Kene Nete Philosophy: Crafting Personal Transformation

A Retreat Like No Other

Kene Nete's philosophy can be summed up in one word: personalization. Unlike other retreats that offer predefined programs, Kene Nete takes a different approach. When you choose to embark on this transformative journey, you select a time period that suits you, and the shamans craft a personalized program tailored to your goals and intentions.

Surrendering to the Medicine

At Kene Nete, the key to a life-changing experience lies in your willingness to surrender to the medicine and do the inner work. It's not a one-size-fits-all process; it's a personalized voyage of self-discovery and healing.

The Authentic Kene Nete Experience

Ayahuasca Retreat in Peru

If you're searching for an Ayahuasca retreat in Peru, Kene Nete offers an unparalleled experience. Nestled deep in the Amazon rainforest, this retreat is a gateway to the ancient traditions of the Shipibo people. Here, you'll find the authentic Ayahuasca experience you've been seeking.

Pucallpa: The Gateway to Healing

Pucallpa, the city closest to Kene Nete, is the gateway to a world of healing. Located just a short boat ride away, it serves as the portal to the ancient Shipibo village of Pahoyan, where Kene Nete is situated. Pucallpa is not just a physical gateway; it's a spiritual one, connecting you to the profound healing traditions of the Amazon.

Master Plant Dieta: A Deeper Journey

For those seeking a deeper connection with the plant spirits and a longer-lasting transformation, the Master Plant Dietais an integral part of the Kene Nete experience. These rituals, lasting at least 10 days, involve working with other healing plants alongside Ayahuasca, all under the guidance of experienced Shipibo shamans.

Your Journey Starts at Kene Nete

Kene Nete isn't just a retreat; it's a testament to the enduring wisdom of the Shipibo people. It's a place where tradition and modern healing converge to provide a deeply personal and authentic experience. If you're ready to embark on a transformative journey, away from the noise of the modern world, Kene Nete welcomes you with open arms.

BOOK A DISCOVERY CALL Today: Begin your journey towards personal healing and spiritual awakening with Kene Nete. Discover the power of authentic Ayahuasca and Master Plant Dieta in the heart of the Amazon rainforest.

In the realm of healing, Kene Nete stands as a beacon of tradition, authenticity, and personalization. Join us, and let your journey of transformation begin.

[lindsaystravelblogs2]

Day 36 – Sunday, 9 April – back to Lima

There seemed to be no great hurry to have us disembark, despite them having to prepare for another bunch of tourists boarding later in the day, but we made it the ten metres to shore in a skiff in Nauta again and were driven the short distance up to our bus.

The trip back to Iquitos to catch our plane to Lima was perhaps more interesting than our outward trip because we knew a bit more about what we were seeing, but we made a major stop at the Manatee Rescue Centre.  The Centre takes in injured or orphaned manatees but also rescues or accepts many other species that have been hit by cars of otherwise unable to survive without help.  Where possible, they are healed or repaired and released, but that is often not possible, so there is quite a resident population as well as those being rehabilitated prior to relocation.

We saw several manatees, mainly young ones due for release in a year or two, a Sloth and an Anteater that probably will never be able to be released, a few small monkeys that might make it in the outside world, and a lot of birds that probably have become too dependent on humans to be released.  There were quite a few beautiful parrots and macaws as well as many smaller birds, many flying freely in and out od the refuge.  There were a few small caimans and some turtles or tortoises of several species, and we just wandered around looking at everything for an hour or so.  There were two connected lakes and a picnic areas and playgrounds for kids but we couldn’t spend as much time exploring as we might have liked.

We then drove on to Iquitos where we boarded our plane back to Lima and the same hotel where we had stayed before our Amazon adventure.  We retrieved our big cases that had been stored there while we were away, dropped them in our room, and went back to the foyer to meet up again with a few of our people who were going to a museum and dinner that night.  Surprisingly, few of us did this, some having been to the museum before, some heading straight for home, and a couple simply not interested (and some were unwell).

We piled into a minibus and headed to the museum, quite a long way across the city, to a privately owned museum loaded with artefacts in fantastic condition that were recovered from the property that the family owns in the far north of the country.  Almost all the artefacts were of Incan origin and it soon became clear how advanced the civilisation was, how skilled the artisans were, and how much they loved the good things in life.  The gardens surrounding the museum buildings are superb and once inside the main building, we had a guide that showed us around some of the spectacular items on display.  They were truly magnificent and all in pristine condition.  Almost all of them were recovered on the family property and they had been protected from the elements for centuries so they were spectacularly beautiful.

We were taken into a secondary area where thousands more items similar to those on display were stored.  There were rooms and rooms of them, all carefully maintained and in superb condition.

We were then led to a third repository where we were given a brief introduction and left to explore quite quickly, because our al fresco dinner was waiting on the terraces outside.  This repository was a seeming embarrassment to some, including our guide, because they showed how the Incans enjoyed themselves with lots of graphic sexual depictions, all as beautifully wrought as those in the galleries we had just left.  It didn’t leave a lot to the imagination, and it portrayed a sophisticated civilisation where both men and women enjoyed the better things in life.

The dinner was great, again with a strong local influence, albeit with a restrained atmosphere, given that we were at a long table that included people who were not from our ship, and many who spoke no English.

We were then taken back to our hotel, this time in the dark, leading to a very different experience from the trip out when it was light, and the city appeared less seedy once all the pretty lights came on.

[soyjerm]

**El Jhon en acción**, aquí en el aguajal de Quistococha el Instituto de Investigaciones de la Amazonia Peruana - IIAP y sus aliados internacionales están usando sensores Eddy Covariance montados en la cima de la torre para monitorear su comportamiento en términos de sus flujos de gases de efecto invernadero como dióxido de carbono, metano y vapor de agua, ello nos hace comprender cuan importante son las turberas tropicales (chupaderas) para la mitigación del cambio climático. Los Aguajales son sumideros de carbono, son vida, son uno de nuestros principales aliados frente al cambio climático. El Instituto de Investigaciones de la Amazonia Peruana siempre a la vanguardia 🌴🌴🌴😉. **Jhon in action**, here in the Quistococha aguajal the Peruvian Amazon Research Institute - IIAP and its international allies are using Eddy Covariance sensors mounted on the top of the tower to monitor its behavior in terms of its greenhouse gas fluxes such as carbon dioxide, methane and water vapor, this makes us understand how important are the tropical peatlands (chupaderas) for climate change mitigation. The Aguajales are carbon sinks, they are life, they are one of our main allies against climate change. The Peruvian Amazon Research Institute is always at the forefront 🌴🌴🌴🌴😉. . . . #nature #naturephotography #photography #goproawards #landscapephotography #earthplanet #EddyCovariance #photooftheday #aguajales #goprohero8 #goproperu #gopro #ecology #jungle #paisajes #turismo #iquitosperu #IIAP #iiapavanza #quistococha_iquitos #bosque #peru #amazonia #ciencia #iquitos #picoftheday #sciencephotography #science #technology #HaciendoCiencia (en Eddy Covariance Flux Tower - Quistococha) https://www.instagram.com/p/CqonjXmurQA/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[chaletnz]

Amazon: Palo Alto Trek

The morning after my trip, I woke up early enough to make it to the dining room for breakfast, after extraditing a huge cockroach from my room. I ate some tiny slices of bread with butter and jam, with fried plantain and orange slices on the side. I also managed to take down half a cup of coffee splashed with some mystery milk from a tin can with a hole pierced in the top – probably condensed milk. I farewelled the Puerto Rican family who were leaving the jungle today, and then went back to my room to rest again for a few more hours until it was lunchtime. When I woke again and showered, I was shocked at how manageable the temperature was after the rain. It had removed so much humidity from the air and was no longer sweltering hot. Lunch was little medallions of beef (they told us it was snake at first), with rice, yuka potato, and watermelon. After lunch Rodrigo and I headed out to Palo Alto for the day. This was meant as an overnight trip but I didn’t want to go camping feeling so weak so I asked if we could do it as a day trip. Old reliable had been fitted with an engine and had life vests strapped to the seats to make it a little more comfortable for the journey over the river. Our first stop was Santa Maria de Fatima, a more developed town in the rainforest with nicer buildings and even satellite dishes on the houses. Rodrigo took me on a walking tour and showed me plantains, papaya, huge limes, and tumbo the Peruvian giant passionfruit growing on the trees. We then walked about 40 minutes through the jungle to the campsite where I was glad to not be staying. We saw some monkeys on the way, a lot of fire ants, and a couple butterflies. At the campsite there was a boat full of rainwater that Rodrigo scooped out so that we could continue our journey. He paddled us slowly down a little lagoon with seemingly black water. It was beautiful and quiet, with just the sounds of birds chirping as we floated down. We went as far as possible in the boat before the water was too shallow and we then had to get out and squelch our way through the shallows to reach the bank. About 10 minutes later we arrived at the viewpoint tower which overlooks the lowlands and swamp area with a wide view, Rodrigo said there are giant caimans and a lot of other predtors in that area and he wouldn’t want to venture out there too far for his own safety. Thew view was impressive but the black lagoon canoe ride was truly the highlight. We paddled backwards to get back to the campsite and I had a great view, I was lucky to see a tiny monkey run on a branch all the way out to the water until it saw us, got a fright, and ran away. We then trekked the 40 minutes back to old reliable for a nice sunset ride back to Maniti Camp and dinner of the pineapple chicken, rice, fried plantains, and orange halves. I packed up most of my bag ready for departure tomorrow while the lights were on and then went to leave a tip in the tip box for the kitchen staff. The tip box was covered in ants and I wondered if they would eat it before they unlocked it and took the tips. I laid down for another early night and dreamed about my next few nights in Iquitos with air conditioning, and a much more comfortable mattress and pillow that would help the intense pain I was getting in my legs and back every time I slept here.

[carpediem-celebrpg]

Treehouse Lodge - Iquitos, Peru

The only all-inclusive treehouse lodge in the Amazon, delivering a once in a lifetime experience. We are located in the Peruvian Amazon at the confluence of the serene and protected Yarapa and Cumaceba rivers near the Pacaya Samiria Reserve. Come stay with us and you’ll see the rainforest from an entirely new perspective that most visitors never experience… the tree top canopy. You’ll never forget the experience of watching monkeys and birds at eye level as every morning you’ll wake up to a safari of animal life before you even get out of bed. Not to worry, you won’t sacrifice any of the usual comforts found on the ground. Every bungalow is equipped with showers, sinks, toilets, and clean white linens. Your personal treehouse bungalow gets you up off the jungle floor and helps you enjoy the airy relief from the heat and humidity. Sure, you’ll get a little extra exercise walking up there, but after a meal filled with our delicious food, you’ll welcome it.

This trip has been chosen for: also look below for more information

Chris Hemsworth ( @carpechris ) and Ashley Benson ( @benzo-ashv )

You may start playing ASAP

You can leave when you want and can return home when you want

The trip must be completed by or before July 12, 2022 though

The trip must last for a minimum of 5 consecutive days

Tag all posts cdcrpgtravel22

[findsunbiz]

Peru, country in western South America. Except for the Lake Titicaca basin in the southeast, its borders lie in sparsely populated zones. The boundaries with Colombia to the northeast and Brazil to the east traverse lower ranges or tropical forests, whereas the borders with Bolivia to the southeast, Chile to the south, and Ecuador to the northwest run across the high Andes. To the west, territorial waters, reaching 200 miles (320 km) into the Pacific Ocean, are claimed by Peru.

Despite its tropical location, a great diversity of climates, ways of life, and economic activities is brought about by the extremes of elevation and by the southwest winds that sweep in across the cold Peru Current (or Humboldt Current), which flows along its Pacific shoreline. The immense difficulties of travel posed by the Andes have long impeded national unity. Iquitos, on the upper Amazon, lies only about 600 miles (965 km) northeast of Lima, the capital, but, before the airplane, travelers between the cities often chose a 7,000-mile (11,250-km) trip via the Amazon, the Atlantic and Caribbean, the Isthmus of Panama, and the Pacific, rather than the shorter mountain route.

Peru is a less-developed country whose economy has long been dependent upon the export of raw materials to the more-developed countries of the Northern Hemisphere. It is one of the world’s leading fishing countries and ranks among the largest producers of bismuth, silver, and copper. In recent decades, the country has struggled to modernize its economy by developing nontraditional export industries as well as the manufacture of consumer items to meet local needs. Serious economic problems persist, however, in several areas. Extensive destruction of transportation and agricultural systems occurs periodically from earthquakes, landslides, El Niño rains, and other natural disasters. The limited agricultural areas do not meet the needs of the rapidly expanding population, resulting in continually rising imports of foodstuffs and difficult attempts to alter the country’s farming and dietary habits. To remedy these and other economic deficiencies, a military government nationalized the petroleum, mining, and other industries in the late 1960s and early 1970s and made extensive efforts at agrarian reform. Nationalization, however, created additional economic problems, including massive government debt, high rates of inflation, a large trade deficit, and strained relations with some of Peru’s trading partners. This caused successive Peruvian governments to reassess the role of the state in the economy and to reopen some economic sectors to private entrepreneurs. These actions, along with structural reforms implemented by the government in the 1990s, contributed to rapid economic growth in the early 21st century.

Traditionally, the primary economic activity in Peru was agriculture, although the importance of this sector of the national economy declined sharply in the last half of the 20th century. Peru imports large amounts of grain (particularly wheat, rice, and maize [corn]), soy, vegetable oils, and dairy products to feed its population. Although ambitious development plans have been designed to improve output, the scarcity of arable land is an extremely limiting factor in Peru.

The most productive agricultural areas are the irrigated valleys of the northern coastal region. Principal crops include sugarcane, cotton, rice, corn, fruits, asparagus, soybeans, flowers, and pulses. In the Sierra, cropland is limited and soil fertility low. The main crops in the Sierra region are potatoes and grains, especially wheat, corn, and quinoa, an extremely high-protein cereal. There is little beyond subsistence agriculture in the Amazon region of Peru, although the lowland indigenous people have traditionally harvested the coca leaves for local use and for trade with the Sierra people.

Peru has a wealth of mineral resources. Copper, iron, lead, zinc, bismuth, phosphates, and manganese exist in great quantities of high-yield ores. Gold and silver are found extensively, as are other rare metals, and petroleum fields are located along the far north coast and the northeastern part of Amazonia.

In spite of the country’s potential mineral wealth, exploitation lagged in much of the last third of the 20th century for a number of reasons, including diminished foreign investment, world price fluctuations, lack of transportation facilities, a scarcity of processing plants, the depletion of deposits in many traditional mining areas, and the limitations of the centralized state mining administration. Beginning in the 1970s—and particularly during the 1990s—many of the nationalized mines and unexploited deposits were sold to private Peruvian and international investors. As a result, new mines have been opened, such as the Yanacocha gold-mine complex near Cajamarca, which is now one of the largest producers of gold in the world. Difficulties of geography have hindered developments, however, because some of the most-promising deposits are located at elevations above 12,000 feet (3,600 metres) or in the Amazonian forests.

The hydroelectric potential of Peru is great, especially on the rivers that flow eastward out of the Andes Mountains to the Amazon Basin. Large power plants have been built on the Santa and Mantaro rivers, and other locations have been selected for future development. Most existing plants, both thermal and hydroelectric, have been connected to a coordinated national electric grid. About three-fourths of the country’s electrical energy is produced from hydroelectric sources; as a result, there are some shortages of power during times of drought. In the early 21st century, Peru pursued the development of natural gas as a more-accessible source of power. Much of the country’s power production and demand are in the Lima metropolitan area, where there is a heavy concentration of industry.

Although the Peruvian government has tried to disperse industrial production, most Peruvian factories are located within the greater Lima area. To better utilize the country’s natural resources to achieve self-sustained growth, a strong push has been given to industries such as those producing petroleum, textiles, processed food, steel, cement, fertilizer, and chemicals. Many of these industries either were nationalized or benefited from special tax incentives and trade-protectionist policies during the 1970s; many were reprivatized in the 1990s.

Foreign trade has been a mainstay of the Peruvian economy since colonial times. The country has historically depended on imported manufactured products, a situation that prompted the government to subsidize import-substitution industries. Peru’s imports have consisted primarily of foodstuffs, consumer goods, transportation equipment, and machinery and component parts for Peruvian industries. Petroleum products formed an expensive share of Peru’s imports in the early 1970s, but increased domestic production, particularly from the Amazon area, turned Peru into a net exporter of oil by 1980. Other important exports have been such primary commodities as ores and minerals (gold, copper, silver, lead, and zinc, for example) and such agricultural products as cotton, sugar, and coffee. Fish meal, a leading export since the 1960s, continued to be important into the 21st century, as did gold, copper, zinc, clothing and textiles, agricultural and livestock products, and petroleum.

China and the United States are Peru’s major trading partners. Other trading partners include Brazil, South Korea, Mexico, Ecuador, Japan, and Switzerland. In 1969 Peru became a charter member of the Andean Common Market (now Andean Community), but economic problems during the 1980s and early ’90s hampered implementation of trade policies, and Peru suspended its membership in 1992–97. Peru also belongs to Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation and the World Trade Organization.

The leading employment sectors in Peru have long been agriculture and fishing, mining, and manufacturing, while the services sector was relatively undeveloped. As the population and economy grew in the latter half of the 20th century, the percentage of agricultural workers declined, the mining and manufacturing sectors were relatively stable, and the services sector grew rapidly, employing some three-quarters of the workforce by the early 21st century. However, between 1980 and 1990, wages in Peru fell dramatically; the average manufacturing wage, for example, dropped by almost two-thirds. Although wages did increase in the 1990s, they were still well below 1980 levels at the end of the 20th century. As a result, few workers earn above the official poverty line, and many must work multiple jobs to make ends meet. Unionized workers in the mining and government sectors have done better than those employed in other areas.

A large percentage of Peruvian workers are employed in the “informal” economy, outside government regulation and taxation and without the protections offered by legal employment. Workers in the informal sector include street vendors, those employed in small workshops in squatter settlements, drivers of jitney taxis in larger urban areas, and women making tourist trinkets in their homes. Most informal workers are underemployed in jobs that provide only a limited amount of work (and income) per week.

Peru’s transportation system faces the challenge of the Andes and of the complex Amazon River system. River traffic in Amazonia is underdeveloped because of the vast distances and low population density of that area. Roadways cross the country from north to south, or they form penetration roads that run east–west over the Andes. The most important road is the Pan American Highway, which parallels the coast from Ecuador to Chile. Other main roads include the trans-Andean, or Central Highway, which follows the Rimac River Valley east from Lima, crossing the Andes and connecting to the Mantaro Valley near Huancayo, and another main road that connects Arequipa to Bolivia through the Andes.

Finally, I will leave a link which includes all companies and enterprises in Peru, for those who want to research and discover more about this country. Thanks for reading.

All businesses address in Peru: https://findsun.net/PE

[peruscapes]

MUST-SEE CITYSCAPES WHEN VISITING PERU

Discover Peru’s cities, in one of the world’s most varied countries. It is a multicultural nation, overflowing with heritage, traditions and natural reserves. It is a home to 12 UNESCO World Heritage Sites and 84 of the planet’s 117 life zones. Its enormous territory, covering more than 1.2 million square kilometres, is composed of three regions: Coast, Highland and Jungle. Peru has some of the most beautiful cities in the world, here are just a few to whet your appetite.

Lima

Lima is the capital and the largest city of Peru, It is located right on the Pacific coast - so there is a remarkable diversity of activities to compliment the interests of all forms of tourists. The city of Lima is located between the valleys of Chillòn, Rímac, and the Lúrin Rivers, and has a population of more than 9 million people. Lima has plenty on offer to satisfy the keen traveller’s appetite. Whether it’s  world-class food, nightlife, historical architecture or fun wave rides at the beach, this Peruvian gem really does provide something for everyone.

Cusco

Another popular city among tourists is the city of Cusco. It is a city in south-eastern Peru near the Urubamba Valley of the Andes mountain range. Cusco is the seventh most populous city in Peru and in 1983 was declared a World Heritage Site. Since then, it has become a major tourist destination, hosting nearly 2 million visitors a year. When visiting Cusco you can enjoy Peruvian gastronomy, visit temples and murals, contemplate stunning local churches, experience horseback riding tours and eat popular market food. We recommend you don’t miss the most famous local drink, Pisco Sour, which is served in many of the local bars.

Arequipa

Arequipa is the stunning volcano-ringed colonial city in southwestern Peru. It is the second most populated city of Peru and the key industrial and commercial centre for the whole country. Some Peruvians regard Arequipa as the most “important” city in all Peru, in large part due to its historical significance. Nicknamed “La Ciudad Blanca” for its unique white buildings made from a local volcanic material, Arequipa will lure you in immediately with its astonishing museums, churches, cathedrals, and monasteries around every corner. A must-see is the Catedral Basilica in the main square and the Museo Santuarios Andinos to learn about the story of Juanita the “Inca Ice Maiden”.

Iquitos

Iquitos is a Peruvian city, also known as the “capital of the Peruvian Amazon”. It is the ninth most populous city of Peru and although it is some distance from the most common sights in the South of Peru, Iquitos manages to stay well connected to the rest of the country. Its harbour is the biggest in the region, and this allows it to be an important spot for the exportation of timber, fish, oil, and agricultural crops.  Surrounded by tribal villages, lakes, rivers and green forest on all sides, Iquitos is the perfect destination for adventurous tourists with a love of nature. Interesting history, unique architecture in the district of Belén, rustic stilt houses lining the Itaya River, and its massive open-air street market are additional reasons why this northern Amazon gem should be on your visit list.

[nbcnews]

At remote Amazon jungle hospital, U.S. med students learn vital lessons

IQUITOS, PERU — Deep in the Amazon rainforest, at a jungle hospital teeming with patients, two U.S. medical students are racing to save a man's life.

The chance to work under extreme conditions is precisely what brought Gorin and Partida to this remote corner of the world.

The pair are members of a select group of UCLA medical students who traveled thousands of miles to Iquitos, the largest city in the world that cannot be accessed by road.

Read More.

[magodelaselva]

Amazon Life - Alquiler de balsa flotante

Amazon Life – Alquiler de balsa flotante

✅ AMAZON LIFE – ALQUILER DE BALSA FLOTANTE 🔴 Brindamos la mejor experiencia turística en nuestra balsa flotante #AmazonLife por los ríos de la Amazonia Peruana con atención personalizada en Iquitos – Loreto – Perú (more…)

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day(s) 5/6 - Iquitos-San Rafael- Iquitos again - In Which I Live Out My Genuine Nightmares

This is going to be a very special (and very long) double entry, because a) the following two days were largely spent doing the same thing b) I am so far behind with this blog that cramming two entries into one seems like perhaps the only way I will ever be able to catch up and c) I didn't really sleep enough to properly separate the two days, anyway, so functionally, they really do count as one for me.

I remember being in no more than primary six or seven, when a man came to speak to our class about the Amazon rainforest. I don't remember who he was or why having a guest speaker tell us about the jungle was particularly necessary, but I do remember in vivid detail the things he told me. More specifically, I remember the things he told me about all the things that could - and most likely would - kill, maim or otherwise damage me, should I ever be fool enough go. Poison tree frogs that can kill you with a single touch, spiders as big as dinner plates that'll snatch your toes right off you, jaguars, scorpions, snakes, wasps, venomous ants, millipedes and even trees; the list went on seemingly forever and I distinctly remember, even at that young age thinking, very firmly to myself “fuuuuuck that.” - except probably a bit higher pitched. More recently, I remember being in Budapest zoo (an excursion featured in this very blog) and there being a very big sign at the entrance to their Amazonia exhibit, describing the area as simply “the green hell”, for much the same reasons. Both of these things have stuck with me for more than twenty and more than five years respectively and, to be honest, did combine mentally to rather put me off ever going to such a horrible, godless locale. It seemed almost unreal, almost like a fever dream, then (Not least of all, because I actually was running a fever, still being fucked into a paste as I was, by my jungle flu.), as I loaded my bags into the back of a tiny little tuktuk motor-taxi, to be whisked away to this nightmarish place, which I swore I would never visit, for actuals and reals.

Before that though, I had a tuktuk to ride. These little things are basically the only way to get around Iquitos, other than a truly abysmal bus service, or just owning a bike; cars are essentially a non-entity here, being very difficult to actually transport over from other citites as they are, as Iquitos is entirely inaccessible by road. They're also quite fun – the tuktuk taxis, that is- I have to be honest, however not-in-keeping with the tone of this blog that statement is. Riding one is sort of like being the terrified non-player-character passenger in a Grand Theft Auto taxi driving side-mission, as your driver weaves carelessly through a sea of other motorcabs, paying no heed whatsoever to the rules of the road or the safety of pedestrians, hoping against hope that they don't lose interest in the task at hand and drive you off the edge of a cliff, or into a deserted field at night, to shoot you in the head with an AR-15 and take all your money.

All too soon though, we were ejected from our mental little death-wagon and ushered into a sort of garage, that appeared to be serving as the headquarters of Maniti Expeditions; the company that was due to take us jungle-side.

We took a seat and waited while the other members of our tour filed in. As it turned out, we were rather a small group. We were joined by a family of Pakistani-Americans from New Jersey, a Portuguese man, who I think was called Pedro, who was nice, though verging dangerously on the pretentious, and, of course – because apparently there is a God, but unfortunately he's just a bastard – the Indian couple from the night before. Of course they were there. Of course they were. Also, it turned out they were actually American, so that made my accidental racism one degree worse than it had even been before. Whizzer.

After a brief interlude wherein a man, whom I did not realise had just wandered in off the street, handed me a torch - which I assumed was just an extra they gave you as part of the tour, but after some time and a lot of him refusing to let me hand it back to him, realised he was trying to sell me, for a frankly ludicrous price, resulting in me having to physically force the thing back into his hands while shouting “no gracias” as politely, yet firmly as I could - we were loaded on to a shitty, rickety old bus and sent towards Bellavista Naney port with our new guide. His name was Alfredo.

Alfredo was, as you might expect a jungle tour guide to be, an interesting chap. He was a short, sturdy, sixty-five year old man, sporting a Peruvian national football shirt, a pair of quite small shorts with sailboats printed on them, a camouflage backpack with a Cannibal Corpse patch poorly sewed onto it and one hell of a coke-nail. He told us, also, not long after we had met that he had been doing Ayahuasca, that traditional Peruvian mind-fuck broth for the last fifty years or so of his life. This was our expert. This was the only barrier between ourselves and definitely dying at the hands of a cruel and dangerous jungle. A junkie death-metal-head. Great. (though, to be totally fair to Alfredo, he was only about 20% as fucking weird and unreliable as this description makes him out to be. In reality, he was very knowledgeable, friendly and really, clearly cared a lot about making sure we were all safe and happy. He was both a top lad and a ruddy good bloke)

We were rushed through Bellavista port by Alfredo, stopping only briefly to marvel at the culinary delights the small port had to offer

Like these buckets full of fucking grubs, for some reason. Apparently they taste just like butter

and before we knew it, we were boarding a small, rickety boat bound for jungletown in the least official looking dock I had ever been to.

Pictured: Not a dock

Just as I was going to take my seat, something pale darted across the corner of my eye. I quickly spun to face the movement and there it was, sitting, bold as brass, right next to where I was about to park my – frankly 10/10 – arse was a massive, white spider, about the size of the palm of my hand, staring up at me, human blood dripping from its fangs, hissing threats in some esoteric spider-language. Fortunately, I was too fucked with the flu to have any energy left to make a fool of myself by panicking and so, instead, quietly just moved down the boat, screaming myself hoarse inside. Alfredo, then noticing the spider himself, then scooped the horrible thing into his hands and very softly deposited it off the side of the boat as if it was nothing, thereby tacitly making a total bitch of me for being so scared of it. Thanks Alfredo. Prick. Fortunately, though that seemed to be the only spider that had snuck on board, as I remained unbothered by any of its kin for the duration of our (very long) boat-ride up the Amazon river.

The boat ride was, despite my malady and my intrinsic fear of ever being submerged in the Amazon river, for any amount of time and for any purpose, fairly incredible. The river is bizarrely fascinating to be on, even when nothing of any interest is happening, and once I had gotten over my terrible, terrible fear of the boat capsizing, or a piranha flying out of the water and biting my face, I settled in to really quite enjoying myself. Alfredo's talk about the river, much like the thing itself, remained interesting, even at points when he was pretty much just babbling a load of shit about nothing, and a conversation with the father of the Pakistani-American family (who was every inch the spitting image of a brown Todd, from The Last Man On Earth) revealed that he, too, was something of an absolute delight. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad, after all.

We eventually pulled in to San Rafael, the little community adjacent to our lodge and, after veeeeery fucking carefully removing myself from the boat, we walked for about ten minutes through very nearly actual proper jungle

Aaaaaah!

seeing some wild tamarins on the way and everything (which are apparently very rare to spot in the wild, so that was neat). By this point though, the heat was almost unbearable and lugging around  my heavy backpack with a swirling vortex of fluey malaise sucking me ever deeper into its terrible maw was really starting to wipe me out. Before long, though, we arrived at the lodge, which was really quite nice, though perhaps a little too similar to the Others' village in Lost, for me to be totally comfortable in.

Delightful, yet sinister, like if Ted Bundy could make balloon animals

I quickly scooted off to dump my bag in our... fairly modest room

Hey, cool, I’m definitely going to die here.

before, with little to no chance for me to rest, being dragged straight back out for a short taster walk, into the actual and for reals jungle.

The walk was definitely an interesting, if very tiring excursion, especially for a gross, snotty flu-man, which I very much was. I think, though that it was largely the novelty of being in a new biome that really did the bulk of holding my attention, as, presumably due to the lovely, but very loud and panicky American family's constant hoots of fear, we didn't see a huge amount in the way of wildlife. Especially not anything that might bite, poison or constrict you. Still, though, it was quietly quite comforting to not be the most scared person there. Grow up, Americans. God.

Around half an hour later and fifteen pounds heavier in mud caked to the bottom of my shoe and trousers, we returned to the lodge for a surprisingly nice lunch of mashed potato and beef. I couldn't really enjoy it, however, as my sinuses were full beyond bursting and the room was spinning horribly around me, as I ate. We were given, mercifully, around an hour to relax before the next part of our tour, which I spent soundly asleep, not even caring that spiders could and probably would be crawling over my exhausted, broken body as I did.

The nap turned out to be a good choice. I awoke feeling slightly more human, albeit by the scantiest margin possible. It wouldn't have mattered if I was literally dying though- I'd still have gone on the next bit of the tour; was I fuck missing a trip to Monkey Island, under any circumstances.

We boarded the boat once more; one tour member lighter - in the form of Pedro who had decided to go off with another, different guide to camp in the jungle for a night, though with the new addition of Karl, another American man and weird lookalike of his namesake Karl Pilkington, arriving late - and were away to Monkey Island. Fuck yes we were away to Monkey Island.

Monkey Island, as its name suggests is a rehabilitation centre for monkeys who were rescued from the black market's pet trade, and that's all brilliant and everything, but jesus christ, it was just a little patch of jungle with all friendly woolly monkeys running around and, jumping through trees and tumbling around and playing and coming up to you to hold your hand or climb onto your shoulders and it was everything I have ever wanted and I don't expect I will feel joy like I did while being there, ever again. Or any sort of joy at all, to be honest.

L O O K A T T H E M 

It was so good that for around the hour and a half we were there, I basically forgot I had the flu. That's how good it was; it was good enough to override my body slowly shutting down through fatigue and illness, like a lemsip for the soul. It was genuinely fantastic; the only thing that marred the experience, even slightly was the American family being a bit too loud and overbearing, pushing to the front of every experience, and so taking all of the monkeys' precious attentions for themselves, for the vast majority of the time. I suppose it can be forgiven of people for being a little over-excited about a god damned island full of monkeys though, so for once, I will bare no grudge against them. But let it me known, if anyone physically comes between me and a monkey, ever again, I will cut a bitch.

Way, way too fucking soon, though, we were pulled away from Monkey Island, in much the way its inhabitants were pulled away from the still-warm corpses of their mothers by poachers (...too dark?) and loaded back onto the boat.

We returned to San Rafael and, by this point, a combination of the heat, the flu and not being allowed to spend literally forever on Monkey Island in a perpetual state of utter bliss had ruined me. I badly needed a nap, again, for fear that if I did not take one, I might actually die, but alas, I was not to be afforded such a simple pleasure. Alfredo informed us, once we were back on land, that we'd be heading out into the jungle again, for an hour long night-walk to look for spiders and shit. I couldn't think of a more terrifying sentence for him to say, to be honest, but I decided that was probably actually quite unlikely that I was actually going to die and it would be quite an experience to miss out on if I just spent the time asleep in the relative comfort of my room, and so, like the solider I am, I nutted up and just did it.

I've genuinely had nightmares about being stuck in the jungle at night. If you'd have asked me a week ago to describe my top most terrifying real-world scenarios I'd never want to be in, that probably would have ranked in the top three. Actually experiencing it, however, really wasn't all that bad. I don't know if my mind and body were just too mangled to process exactly what was happening to me (I do remember spending a lot of the time, almost asleep on my feet, not fully knowing where I was, but being quite convinced that I was in a forest in Scotland), or if the lovely, but loud American family had just spooked all the dangerous animals in a fifty mile radius away with their unforgivably loud hollers and yelps, but I didn't find myself feeling at all anxious, or frightened, or...anything, really. It was just something that was happening to me before I could sleep.

Although in retrospect, it looks fucking terrifying

The walk progressed slowly, with little of interest being spotted, other than a couple of (admittedly pretty sick) stick insects and apparently an opossum (although I didn't see it, myself) and seemed to be winding down without incident. Then, ten minutes or so from camp, Sam's left leg stated burning. Panicking, she told Alfredo what was happening, who traipsed back to her, lifted her trouser-leg and saw, to Sam's horror, but his own light amusement that a not insignificant amount of fire-ants were swarming around her calf. Apparently she had stomped her little stompy feet through their nest and was now paying the price for her murderous hubris. Alfredo swatted the ants away as best he could and we continued walking (or in Sam's case, badly limping) back to the camp.

Once back, we ducked back into our bungalow to make sure neither of us had any more of the nasty little fuckers on us, which thankfully, we did not, and everything was great,forever. The End.

Nah, just kidding; we had an entire fucking colony milling around our socks and lower trousers. We very quickly and with very very little dignity, stripped our khakis off in a bit more of a girlish panic than I'd honestly like to admit, shook the ants free from the trousers, outside and just straight up binned the socks like the unwearable garbage they now were. When we were absolutely sure that we now ant-free (which took so much more time and energy than my body could realistically spare), we headed to dinner; another fairly nice affair full of chicken legs and mashed potato, so I'm told, at least. Genuinely, I don't know, I was so far beyond physically okay that the entire thing really was a bit of a blur for me. I do remember being given a pill by the Indian couple, which they claimed was a combination of painkillers and muscle relaxant and which knocked me out almost as soon as I returned to our room. At least I was too sick to care about spending a night in the jungle- the part of the trip I was most worried about, previously – so uh. Every cloud and all that, I guess. Also, the muscle relaxant didn't even one, as I had worried it might, make me piss the bed. So that's two silver linings, which honestly, is pretty good going, as far as silver linings are concerned.

I was up several times in the night. The jungle is (shockingly) pitch black during the evening and, much like the night before, I found myself awaking with a jolt every two hours or so, to empty my bladder and perform a full and thorough inspection of my bed, using the torch on my phone, to make sure no errant tarantulas had decided to become my erstwhile bedfellows. They hadn't, to be fair, but that doesn't make me hate them any less. Furry, spindly little pricks.

Despite this, I did sleep better than I had the previous night (albeit again, only by the slimmest of margins) and actually found myself, for once, being woken up by my alarm, rather than just being awake several hours before it was due to go off, anyway. Take that, alarm.

Our morning plan was to take the boat out once more, to watch the sun rise over the Amazon and then around to go river-dolphin spotting, which, to be fair, did sound appallingly lovely. The sunrise was mostly obscured by clouds, so wasn't perhaps as impressive as it could have been, though still managed to remain fairly bloody impressive

Neat, I guess.

and what the clouds took away from the gravity of the experience, Alfredo more than added back in by uttering the cryptic, slightly frightening and just very, very metal line of “...His eye opens” as the sun just began to peek over the horizon

BEHOLD!

By the time we had begun dolphin spotting, I had once again grown weary and while I was definitely thoroughly enjoying the experience, and managed, at points, to get incredibly close and take some pretty okayish videos of the ugly, pink little jerks

I have no way of editing videos out here, but if you wait until around the 30 second mark, you should see a big splashy boy

I was definitely not enjoying my nostrils turning into a snot-faucet and my head being slowly crushed into a singularity from the inside, so by the time we packed it all in and returned home, I was super glad to be doing so, despite feeling a little guilty for thinking like this. To be honest though, as amazing as this experience was (and indeed all the experiences the rainforest had to offer thus far – save for fire-ants, which can go fuck themselves), it was hard for me to really, properly enjoy them, as each time I got close to feeling like I was, the realisation that I am a comparatively rich, white tourist who paid for this experience set in, hard, and, in what has to be the most first-world-problemy way possible, did rather make the entire thing seem a bit...plastic. Not the monkeys though; they were legit.

Once home, we took a quick break; not long enough for a recovery nap, but just about long enough to relax in a hammock for a while

So relaxed...

before being ushered out onto the river by Alfredo once more. This time to go and meet some members of a local tribe. I wasn't particularly thrilled about this part of the tour, feeling that it was perhaps a little ...colonial and exploitative; parading us around this relatively primative tribe, oohing and ahhing at their grass skirts and shitty little home-made crafts and rudimentary hunting techniques and all that, but I did pay...quite a lot for this tour and didn't really want miss any part of it; especially a bit so awkward and unwanted that it was almost guaranteed to generate some dynamite blog-content, so I bundled myself back into the boat and headed off to tribesville.

We arrived at the small village and were directed to sit down inside, what I assumed was the main hut. We had been joined by another, different tour-group for what was about to ensue, which I was uncharacteristically thankful for, as it, at the very least, would dilute some of the attention that our group would get. After a brief talk on the tribe from Alfredo, which didn't exactly blow me away with any fascinating insight into their way of life (they're farmers who grow rice and bananas, they hunt for their food and use blowdarts), we then got another small talk in the tribe's native tongue from the chieftain; short, stern and stocky man, wearing a grass skirt and a large ornamental headdress, who was, hilariously, just called Richard, who essentially just went over the same things as Alfredo, but in a language that seemed to only consist of three independent syllables.

The tribe then demonstrated two of their traditional songs, both of which were accompanied by a dance, with which we were invited to join in (an offer which every single member of our group declined)

Not this guy, though. He was fucking loving it.

and both of which, with the best will in the world, were a bit shit. After a gruelling and genuinely awkward few minutes, the music abated and we were led to a different area to try our hand at blow-gunning, which, I'll be honest, I did rather enjoy, despite myself.

P-tew!

with no time to enjoy my definitely 10/10 blowgun prowess, we were directed immediately to the tribe's market stall, in which we were expected to spend our money on various bits of, to be totally honest, absolute garbage, which the tribe had made. Sam had brought very little money with her and I hadn't thought to bring any, at all, so we had a quick look around to see what we could buy with fifteen soles that was something either one of us would actually like and we weren't just buying because it felt awkward not to. It was then that li'l chief Richard approached us, his hand outstretched, rubbing his thumb against his middle and fore-finger – the international symbol for “give me money”

“Para la musica” he told us. For the music.

Great. Now apparently we had to pay for enduring their shit music which wasn't good and which I didn't enjoy listening to. Perfect. We (Sam) handed him five of our soles and he looked disgusted with us. We (Sam) apologised for not giving more and Richard walked away, unspeaking. I don't care if you are in some jungle tribe with all different culture and everything, rudeness is rudeness. Fuck you, Richard. Prick.

Now feeling a little like what little shine the experience had possessed, previously had very much worn out, we continued being made to browse the tribe's wares, until we finally succumbed to pressure and bought ourselves some tat.

Glad I spend money on this sweet little number

With everyone's pockets now entirely emptied and the lines on who was exploiting who blurred beyond all recognition, we loaded ourselves back onto the boat. Also, a little side-note here, but it was at this point that I watched a portly lady who was on the other tour, lean out of the window of her boat to take one final picture of the tribe, though instead managed to let her phone slip out of her hands and straight to the bottom of the river; an act which I singularly enjoyed infinitely more than I had the last hour or so of tribal interaction and having my money guilted off me. They should genuinely employ someone to do that on every tour, because, honestly, I nearly enjoyed it as much as Monkey Island.

Our next stop was one I could be fucked with almost as much as the previous; piranha fishing. I'm not a huge fan of fishing, to be honest, because I don't really like killing things (although, being in the Amazon does generally make you a little kill-happier. There was no way in hell I was going to scoop up each individual fire-ant on a bit of cardboard and pop them outside on the bungalow's windowsill. It was the boot for them), but we were told by Alfredo that the lodge's chefs would cook up what we caught and we could have them for lunch, which did remove some of the grey morality which which I was struggling.

Turns out I needn't have worried about any of that, though, because I was fucking terrible at Piranha fishing and didn't land a single catch. I couldn't get them to stay on the hook, no matter what I tried and more than likely emptied our group's reserves of spare bait, single-handedly in the process, like the saint I am. Sam, however, being a salty Geordie fish woman, was great at it and caught, as she kept boastfully reminding me of, as if ending the lives of innocent little snappy-boys was something to be proud of, no fewer than four fish. Five, actually, but one wasn't a piranha and was therefore too small to bother cooking (it was, however, too badly damaged to go back in the water and so had to be stomped to death, anyway. What a monster she is.)

After a while, even Sam's bloodlust was sated and we unanimously decided to pack in this whole fishing lark and go back for lunch. I got back on board the boat, over the piranha infested waters as carefully as I have ever done anything in my life and we returned to the lodge for what would be the final time.

We were afforded enough time, once back, for me to have another nap, which, at this point were the only things making me feel even vaguely alive or human, in any sense, before being served our last lodge supper. More mashed potatoes, jungle-beans, the piranhas Sam caught and a big chunky fillet of another, different (and anyone with tastebuds would say) better fish called Pacu and which looks like this

...yummy

I am told that this all tasted quite nice, but by this point, the flu had cruelly taken away my senses of both smell and taste, so I had no idea. I could just about make out that it was very salty, though, so that was something. Small victories.

With that, our jungle experience came to a close and after a strangely intimate hug goodbye with Alfredo, we and the Indian couple (who were the only other guests not booked to stay any longer than a single night) were plopped back on our boat and ferried upstream back to Belavista. A trip which I spent nearly the entirety of asleep, which I like to think was because I had grown so comfortable with being in the jungle, at that point, that I could relax fully in it, but more likely was because I had just been crumpled into a ball of misery and fatigue by my flu over the previous three days. Overall though, being in the jungle was a surprisingly good experience and one that I might even consider doing again at some point, should the opportunity arise. A solid 9/10, except for, as I've said, the fire-ants which can go fuck themselves.

Back on terra firma, we were wizzed via tuktuk first back to the company's headquarters, where we finally parted ways with the Indian couple – hopefully actually to never see them again this time, and then to our new AirBnb, in which we would spend out final few days in Iquitos.

Our new AirBnb, as it happens, was actually a collection of luxury riverfront apartments, in which, we had unknowingly booked the nicest room. We were checked in by the receptionist, Diego, who looked the spitting image of a brown Zach Woods and who was incredibly welcoming and helpful to an almost snivelling degree (not entirely unlike every character Zach Woods plays, now I think of it.) Diego explained everything there was to explain about the apartment in frankly laborious detail and, after dropping this info-dump on us and bidding us welcome, asked us point blanc

“what's my name?”

I suppose this was as some kind of test to see if we had retained the information he had just said, rather than a test of politeness, or some weird ego-trip. Regardless, I did not remember what it was. I was hard-humped with flu and generally disregard someone's name the first three times they tell me it, even when it is someone I know I'll actually see again.

“...What's. My. Name?” he repeated.

I laughed and told him I'd just be in the jungle for two days, so I'd forgotten. This seemed to be an acceptable enough answer for him and he immediately flicked back to his friendly, helpful self, creepily seamlessly. The entire interlude was really quite odd, totally out of keeping what the rest of what I'd seen of his personality and I'm almost certain, a preamble to my own murder.

Doing our best to put whatever psychosis we had just witnessed behind us, we settled in to our new digs. This apartment, a penthouse suite overlooking the Naney river, was about as different from living in the jungle as it was possible to get, and let me tell you, the change was one hundred percent welcomed by me.

The view is spectacular

...I mean if you’re into things like that.

The bed was comfy, the fridge loaded with pre-cooled water bottles, the kitchen fully stocked and the entire apartment almost entirely bug-free, due in no small part to its remarkably effective AC system, which really did turn the flat into a little icy paradise of excess, amidst a sea of poverty and sweat.

We couldn't quite settle in fully just yet, though. Sam insisted that we make a quick outing to the supermarket, because apparently she needed shampoo and apparently wasn't willing to go alone, for fear of being “mugged” or “abducted and killed” by a “crime man”, which to be honest, I felt was very selfish of her.

For the final time that day, then, I dragged what was left of my body out through the streets of Iquitos, to the supermarket and back, before finally being able to collapse onto our exceptionally soft airbnb couch, to eat a modest dinner of a single sausage and a couple of minty biscuits, while watching the Peru episode of an Idiot Abroad - because watching someone else suffer through what I just had was really the only thing that had the capability of making me feel any better at that point – and then heading directly to our comfy, comfy bed, which I believe I must have fallen asleep in, before my head had even touched the pillow. I have never been more done.

[susannaprouse]

Forty Eight - Iquitos

I woke up to an extremely loud noise. I had my ear plugs in and still jolted awake. It must have been an earthquake and so I shook Mike awake confused and panicked. As Mike blinked slowly at me I realised I could hear rushing water and it dawned on me the crash was thunder, the loudest and most terrifying thunder I'd ever heard. With the brightest lightening I'd ever seen. It was like a bright torch was being shone into our room. Our first Amazon storm had hit. It was amazing but after getting back into bed I could swear I could feel a tiny splatter of water on my foot, it was so tiny it could have been my imagination. I got up feeling around the bed until I found a large wet patch at the end of the bed: we had a leaking ceiling. Mike woke up and we quickly moved all our things from the wet floor to the other side of the room, trying to dry things with a towel as we went. Exhausted we went back to sleep realising there was nothing more we could do at 3 in the morning.

On waking we spoke with the hostel lady and moved our stuff to the much bigger and nicer room next door. Free upgrade! The rain was still heavy so we donned our boots, coats and umbrellas and went out into the cooler city.

We had yet another mission. I had my heart set on going to Isla de Los Monos, a rescue and rehabilitation centre for primates but getting there seemed difficult and confusing. To try and work this out we had decided to head to their office in Iquitos.

As soon as we got there we saw the door was firmly closed but pinned to it were hand written instructions telling us to head through a market, down to the docks and then board a boat. We would then need to call a guy called Hugo for another boat to pick us up. Despite trying to call we didn't get a reply and getting hangry we went for breakfast to get some WiFi and email.

Breakfast was a 'breakfast for big boys' according to Mike, a huge plate of eggs, bread, potatoes, tomators and onion as well as coffee and juice - delicious! Unfortunately we still couldn't get through to Hugo so walked down to the docks with the hopes it would make more sense.

The market and docks were insane, planks of rickety wood balanced on the watery passageways. Hairless dogs competed for scraps and kids carrying huge crates of bananas weaved through like it was nothing. It was dirty and noisy and everyone was looking at us. It was overwhelming but I loved seeing a little more of what life was like in Iquitos.

After navigating our way through the maze and asking an old woman with silver teeth we eventually found a few boats. The men there clearly knew where we wanted to go shouting Monkey Island. We dithered, desperately wanting to get on the boat but also knowing we still hadn't got through to Hugo so may end up being stranded on the other side.

Feeling a little annoyed we left the docks making the decision to go to the Butterfly Farm instead and wait for a reply from Hugo via email. We could then go there once we were back from our trip to the Amazon. We got a mototaxi to another section of dock and quickly found a boat that would take us to Padre Cocha, a village just around the river bend (I have had Pocahontas stuck in my head for the last week). We got in and had our first taste of the Amazon river. This section, near the city, was dirty and full of huge boats used to import things to the city without roads in and out.

It was strange to feel we were immediately surrounded by the rainforest and it made us excited for the trip we would be starting the following day. After disembarking we walked the fifteen minutes through the small village to the Butterfly Farm. By the time we got there we were soaked with sweat, the cool air the storm had created had definitely gone by this point. We met a French volunteer that would guide us round the site and were quickly joined by a German couple.

The tour took us around the huge butterfly enclosure with 17 types of colourful butterflies fluttering around (mum, you would have been screaming!). The coolest was the Owl Butterfly whose defence mechanism means it can close its upper wings together to show what looks to be an owls face. Our guide managed to catch one to show this before letting it go unharmed.

After the butterflies we walked around the rescue and rehabilitation section. The Austrian woman that ran the Butterfly Farm was quickly made aware of lots of animals seized by the authorities from stupid people housing them in their restaurants, homes or trying to sell them on the pet trade. As they knew she had space they convinced her to house them as most couldn't be released to the wild due to their interactions with humans.

Walking this section was bitter sweet. The animals were clearly well looked after but their stories were heart breaking and it was sad they had to remain in captivity. As soon as we started walking we saw, for me, the most amazing thing. A red bald headed Uakari and a Wooly Monkey sat together grooming each other! Obviously with my work on Primates I knew the Uakari is one of the rarest primates, it's red face making it an easy target. To see two different breeds together and so close was amazing. Apparently they'd both been rescued from the pet trade and were now best mates.

We continued walking and saw pygmy marmosets, the smallest primate, that had been found in the airport being smuggled out. Then came the capuchin monkeys, the most intelligent monkey, one if which had been taught by street gangs to pick pockets. Upon arrival to the rescue centre, it quickly taught the other monkey its tricks.

Onwards to the three-fingered sloth that was so close to us and was awake, watching us with curiosity. Next, the ocelots. I hadn't seen one since Costa Rica and I'd forgotten how beautiful they are. There was a male and a female, both had been rescued from the pet trade. The centre tried to put them together but the male kept attacking the female. It seemed he'd been so habituated from birth he didn't even recognise his own species.

On we walked to the adolescent tapir who ate a banana. He was being bred by a restaurant to eat before he was rescued. Behind his enclosure we saw a huge lake they were making safe so he could swim in something bigger than the pool he currently had.

Finally we saw the first animal the authorities had needed somewhere for: the jaguar. Our guide grabbed a hunk of meat and hung it on the edge of a cage. From the shadows the jaguar emerged, hissing a warning before grabbing the meat. It was sad to see it in an enclosure but it couldn't be released as it had become dependant on humans. Even though it was smaller than the average jaguar it was still huge and scary.

The tour came to an end and we made the walk back to the dock in the hot sun. When we arrived there was a boat full of people ready to leave so we quickly got in and started chatting with an older Western woman. It turned out she was Australian, born in Austria, now living in Peru. I asked her why she made the move to Peru and got the response that 'it was more of a calling, the South American spirits were calling me'. I could physically feel Mike next to me tense up and mentally remove himself from the conversation.

I, on the other hand, was fascinated. It turned out she'd heard the calling and so had left her husband and children to move to the Amazon. She now ran an airbnb specialising in tarot card readings and Ayahuasca experiences (the hallucinogenic drug traditionally used in ceremonies but now sought after by tourists). She was clearly a weirdo but the conversation was good.

After a quick ice cream (chocolate for me, coffee for Mike) we got a mototaxi back to the hostel where we relaxed for a while before heading out for dinner. Dinner that night was burritos filled with Amazonian flavours, such as dried chicken and spicy local peppers. Mike went for grande which was absolutely massive while I went for Junior. Safe to say Mike felt as stuffed as the burrito when he left.

[geopolicraticus]

The Audible Universe

We use “the visible universe” as a convenient way top refer to the known universe—the universe accessible to science because it is that portion of the universe accessible to our senses. Seeing is believing, as we say. And although sight does not exhaust our sensory experience of the universe, it does dominate our picture of the world because we are primarily visual animals, and it especially dominates our picture of cosmology, because we can see stars and galaxies, but we cannot touch them, taste them, smell them, or hear them.

Strictly speaking, some of what we include within the visible universe isn’t visible at all to the naked eye, and some isn’t visible to any eye at all, but are only revealed by scientific instruments. Thus we might prefer to speak of the observable universe, which is often used synonymously with the visible universe. One thing that we can say, however, is that everything in the universe we are able to study scientifically is within our line of sight, which retains the metaphor of visibility. This metaphor of visibility extends to the recently publicized photograph of a black hole, which was captured by radio-telescopes using a 1.3 mm wavelength, not visible to the naked eye, but interpreted in a way that the human eye can see and the human brain can comprehend.

It is something of an accident of our cosmological circumstances that we are able to glimpse the cosmos with the unaided eye. Hans Blumenberg began his The Genesis of the Copernican World with this observation:

“The combined circumstance that we live on Earth and are able to see stars—that the conditions necessary for life do not exclude those necessary for vision, or vice versa—is a remarkably improbable one. This is because the medium in which we live is, on the one hand, just thick enough to enable us to breath and to prevent us from being burned up by cosmic rays, while, on the other hand, it is not so opaque as to absorb entirely the light of the stars and block any view of the universe. What a fragile balance between the indispensable and the sublime.”

In contrast to the cosmological scope of the visible universe, the audible universe extends only as far as our planetary atmosphere extends, so while the naked human eye can gaze upon large-scale structures of cosmology like the Milky Way, our ears hear only that which occurs on our planet, and most of what we hear is immediate and tightly confined to our local neighborhood.

We may hear thunder in the distance, or the crash of the surf before we arrive at the beach proper; we may hear the guns of a distant battle, or the explosion of a distant volcano; we may hear the distant rumble of engines from ships or jets over the horizon, but most of what we hear is close enough to us that we could reach out and touch it if we wanted to make the effort to do so. The audible universe is immediate, and, because it is immediate, it is personal, even intimate.

The ambient aural milieu sets the atmosphere of our experience more than we realize. In the morning, there is the dawn chorus of bird song that rises as the sky brightens. In the evening, there is the frog chorus, which, depending upon the biome in which you live, can be close to deafening as the darkness closes in, and continues throughout much of the night. These two choruses for me symbolize the diurnal/nocturnal cycle and are a vivid reminder of circadian rhythms.

Many years ago when I visited the Amazon basin (near Iquitos in the Peruvian Amazon), I was struck by how the night air was alive with the sounds of insects. While there are some insect sounds where I live, it is nothing like the cacophony of the buzzing, clicking, chirping, and whizzing that I heard in the Amazon, and since the insects are actively flitting past your ears, this cacophony surrounds you and moves around you in a kind of aural panorama.

In the industrialized world we have become accustomed to an artificial ambient aural milieu. We have all heard the jokes about city dwellers who can’t get to sleep without having the background white noise of traffic, sirens, and voices ever-present, and I recall one film where the city man arrived in a small town turns on recorded sounds of a large city so that he can rest comfortably.

Where I grew up in rural Oregon it is quite quiet, but even in the countryside you can hear the distant sound of the highway (US 30) on the other side of the hills, and you can hear distant planes in the sky. I remember being struck when I visited the Hacienda Zuleta in Ecuador how quiet it was. The only thing I could hear when I was outside was the rustle of the wind in the grass, the sounds of the birds in the trees, and the occasional neighing of horses. This, for me, was just perfect. I could have stayed and been happy there.

Despite this intimately personal character of sound, cosmologists relatively recently have come to appreciate the role of sound in the early universe. Mark Whittle, who has been studying the sounds of the early universe, describes it like this:

“...over the first million years, all of space was filled with a hot thin uniform glowing gas, a billion times denser than the current cosmic density.  Not only did the Universe have an atmosphere – in a sense, it was an atmosphere. It was within this atmosphere that sound waves could form and move in the young Universe.” 

Whereas the cosmic microwave background radiation (CMBR, often called the “echo” of the big bang, invoking an auditory metaphor) is made visible to us in a false color image derived from scientific instruments (in other words, something that no living eye could ever see without the intervention of science and technology), it is still a bit abstract to us. Would a sound “picture” of the earlier universe seem any more concrete to us, or constitute a more intimate and immediate relationship to the universe? You can listen for yourself to John Cramer’s reconstruction of the sound via a Youtube video.

It should be noted that, just as we can interpret the CMBR or the radio wavelengths of the black hole image as visual images, we could also interpret them as sounds, but, being the visual beings that we are, we generally find the visual interpretation to be the more striking. This isn’t because of the way that the universe is; this is because of the way that we are. How we interpret the observations of our scientific instruments is a function of the human condition. 

Sometimes, however, we want to hear the audible version of the world that our scientific instruments reveal to us. In the film Contact, based on the Carl Sagan novel, in one scene the protagonist, Dr. Eleanor "Ellie" Ann Arroway, is shown listening to the radio telescope feed. Sometimes this is the quickest and most efficient and even the most intuitive way to get your information about the world. Sonar operators listen in order to derive information about the ocean environment, as do metal detector enthusiasts when surveying the underground environment. Geiger counters, too, customarily convey their information to us via sound.

I’m not sure that it is that separates observations that we primarily respond to visually from observations that we primarily respond to aurally, but there is a difference, and it would be worth inquiring into the subtle differences in the way we perceive the world and indeed construct the world from our observations, so that some constructions work better for us as images while other constructions work better for us as sounds. A metal detector could give a visual reading on a dial, and a speedometer could give us a tone instead of a reading. Why each seems appropriate for the information it conveys is a matter that is more subtle that we typically recognize.