So we hopped on a bus for a harrowing 10 hour bus ride to the start of the journey - possibly the most dangerous thing we have done to date (I will spare our parents the details, but thankfully we arrived safely). The following morning, after a Bolivian brekkie (rice, steak, fried egg, grilled onion, and platano) we watched as our guide transformed 8 tires and a dozen bamboo poles into our home for the next 5 days. Thoroughly excited we loaded up and began the journey. It was perfect, no engine = no engine noise. It was us and the sounds of the jungle. Our soundtrack was the chatter of toucans, macaws and innumerable other tropical jungle birds, set to the slaps and yelps of gringos being molested by mosquitoes. By day we floated down the river, even eating lunch on the boat, although we did make occasional stops to go for a hike or visit indigenous families living in the jungle. By night we found a sandy patch of riverbank on which to camp. On 2 occasions we were startled by the sound of gunshots! Locals hunting for food for their families. The trip started out warm and sunny but by day 4 we were socked in by clouds and had to endure occasional rain storms. But nothing dampened our enthusiasm and enjoyment of this slow adventure. It was absolutely perfect and we still miss our lazy days listening to birdsong as we watched the jungle transform over the 280 km that we floated.
(click on the photo to see the caption)