I check out all the local tour companies in town but to be honest, none of them really strike me as being great and they do seem expensive for what you get. Anyway I eventually pick one, get my money and say I want to go with them tomorrow. They ask me to fill in details on the passenger list, and as I quickly scan the list I notice that I will be the only non Israeli on the trip.

I know, and the same would be true if the situation were reversed, that the conversation will be almost entirely in the tongue of the majority. My Hebrew isn't exactly fluent! Also 14 people is a lot when looking for wildlife, it tends to scare it all away.

As I wave I see several black dots on my arm. On closer inspection they are huge mosquitoes

I thank the guide in the shop, he completely understands. It seems that at this moment, there are only Israelis in town. Oh well, lets see what else I can work out.

I go to a few travel agents and ask about lodges as opposed to camping trips. I find out about one that seems good, it is called Ararra Azul (Brazilian for Hyacinth Macaw). The cost however is prohibitive! All the packages include the transport which is very costly. They have to drive a long way, over bad roads in a 4x4 to get me there and then return to pick me up a few days later. With five or six people it works out OK, but by myself it is just too much. I ask if I can just book the room and get there myself. I am told repeatedly they do not have a phone and it is very difficult without four wheel drive. Hiring a car is out of the question, too expensive. OK, I check out the local transport. There is a bus for a few bucks that will drop me off at a Police checkpoint at the turning to the main track into Pantanal. From here to the lodge it is 30km of bumpy track. I can hitch this part, I am told it could be difficult, but it shouldn't be too dangerous. No problem - I'll make it!

So the next morning I set off on the bus. We stop at the Police checkpoint, I am the only one to get off into the intense heat and humidity.

"Watch out for the mosquitoes" shouts the bus driver with a smile as he pulls away.
"Obrigado" I shout back and wave, my body already running with sweat.

As I wave I see several black dots on my arm. On closer inspection they are huge mosquitoes, I never seen them so big - if a few of them got together they could probably pick me up and carry me away. In the space of about 30 seconds I am covered with about 50 mossies on each arm, they are on my face, on by neck, my back, my legs, everywhere and more are buzzing around me looking for any spare millimetre of exposed flesh to land on. This is disgusting. I put my pack down grab my mossie spray & spray myself liberally - it doesn`t help! I resort to more primitive tactics, walking rapidly around in circles, swatting myself, waving my arms around shouting obscene comments at them, as if they understand or would even care if they did. I am dinner after all. There is quite literally a cloud of mosquitoes following me. As my circle brings me round I am facing the Police building. I see three policemen looking through the window at me, pointing at laughing at the crazy 'Gringo'. If I wasn't feeling so revolted and annoyed I'm sure I could have seen the funny side myself! I quietly mouth the word ´bastards´ under my breath and continue my frantic dance.

After half an hour of this a car pulls into the turning. I run up to it and open the passenger door before he has even stopped. I beg for a lift and seeing my plight and my anxiety he offers me one. I dump my bag in the back, jump in and wipe the mosquitoes from my arm, neck and back. This poor guy now has loads of hungry mosquitoes buzzing around in his car which we swat continuously on our way up the bumpy track. Thankfully he has air conditioning - an absolute necessity in this heat.

There will be a cattle truck passing within the next hour or so and it's almost certain I can hitch a ride on that.

The guy can only take me about 10km up the track, and then he'll drop me at a small fuel station. We arrive, I thank him & run with my pack to the safety of a tiny bar. There the owner tells me that I should wait a minute. He comes back with another guy who tells me he and his friends are on a fishing trip and can take me up the track a bit further. They are from Rio and the six of them have bought an old bus. They took out the front ten or so rows of seats to use as a sleeping area and are living and travelling in it for a few weeks. I am a bit wary, but I am after all in the middle of nowhere and quite stuck! I join them in the bus & we head up the track. They turn out to be really friendly people, wanting to know all about me, my country and my travels. In broken Spanish, English and Portuguese we converse a little, they supply me with beer and even stop so I can photograph the wild deer and capybara that we see en route.

Once again they are not going as far as me and drop me where they are camping. They speak to someone else who informs me that there will be a cattle truck passing within the next hour or so and it's almost certain I can hitch a ride on that.

I wait around admiring the massive meter and a half long fish they have caught in the surprisingly small river. We talk more, drink more and sometime later an empty cattle truck passes. They wave it down, speak to the driver and as predicted he offers me a lift to the lodge. It is slow going and by the time we get there it is dark. I thank him and walk towards the welcoming lights of the Ararra Azul Lodge. When I walk in, filthy, sweaty and scratching, to say they are surprised to see me, especially with how I got there is an understatement!

The lodge is great, I have my own room, with aircon and bathroom. They supply three more than ample and delicious meals a day and will let me have my own personal guide. The only other people there; 2 Danish honeymooners, are leaving in the morning! It is the low tourist season right now. The owners are really friendly and chatty, but all I want to do now is eat, relax and douse the multitude of itchy bumps on literally every part of my body with antihistamine. At least I have arrived in the Pantanal.

...the monkeys I can hear are probably a couple of kilometres away - sounds more like they are next door!

The Pantanal is a huge wetland area half the size of France. It is made up of rivers, waterways, lakes, ponds, islands, marsh, swamps and the occasional spot of dry land. Every year around 100,000 square kilometres of land is flooded during the wet season. The wildlife here is intense, more concentrated than anywhere else on this amazing continent and often easier to spot because of the more open land. It is home to, amongst many others, jaguars, many types of monkeys, caiman (South American crocodiles), huge anacondas, capybaras the worlds largest rodents weighing in at a massive 60kg and, an immense variety of birds. Unfortunately many of the cattle ranches or 'haciendas' are taking over from the wild areas and the animals are, like many places being driven further and further back whilst their numbers dwindle due to lack of space and competition for food. Many of the big hunters are also shot illegally by the ranchers to protect the cattle placed in their territory. On the up side, tourism is gaining ground and the owners of the ranches have taken to guiding and housing tourists as a way to earn more income. Tourists want to see animals and pay big bucks for the privilege, so the animals are now part of their livelihood too.

As dawn breaks, I hear the huge roars from the forest, it is the howler monkeys marking their territory. I am informed that the monkeys I can hear are probably a couple of kilometres away - sounds more like they are next door! I go for a trek with my personal guide and straight away I see two large Hyacinth Macaws, their feathers the colour of a deep blue sky with yellow rings round their eyes and mouth. Hyacinth Macaws are the largest of the macaws growing up to 1m in length. They are also one of the most endangered. I also see some Blue and Yellow Macaws roosting on a branch, a similar colour to the former but with bright yellow necks and bellies contrasting against the bright, deep blue of their back and wing plumage.

I am guided into the wooded areas to find the noisy howlers who give us a bark to let us know we are in their home. Their huge mouths opening and stretching as they cry out to let the whole of Brazil know I am there - it is deafening. I see the bizarre looking coatis with their long pointy snout and long bushy racoon type tail. They scamper up the trees and eye me curiously from a safe height as I watch them. I see other types of monkey, spider monkeys, capuchins and others fleeing from my presence as I approach, but occasionally stopping to turn and have a quick look at one of their strange and dangerous relatives. I see eagles, Caracas, huge Jabiru storks, parrots, parakeets, egrets, cardinal birds, Wattled Jacanas, more macaws and at last I get a good close viewing of some toucans, their big, shiny black orange and yellow beaks catching the sun. I see more than I can remember or take in. I see more colours than I can imagine and am overawed at the beauty of this place.

We head back to the lodge to find that a few meters away, sitting on the bank of a small lake are maybe 20 large caiman, two meters long, bathing in the sunshine, huge teeth shining in the sun from their immense open jaws. Next to them the hungry and evil looking black vultures complete the scene opening their wings to dry and air in the heat of the sun. The owner of the lodge bangs the ground with a few pieces of frozen chicken and then throws them a couple of meters away from us. Instantly the caimans move in as I move back hurriedly. They turn their heads sideways and grab at the chicken, the losers having a go if they think they are 'hard' enough. Unable to bite through the frozen meat they are content to sit clamping hard until it thaws - they know this wont be long out here.

In the afternoon they take me out piranha fishing at one of the lakes. I am standing on a steep bank with my fishing rod in hand. It consists of a bamboo pole maybe one and a half meters long, a piece of fishing wire tied to one end, a metal trace and hook dangling with a piece of raw chicken. I cast in and instantly I get a bite, I strike and there on the end of my line is....nothing! Not even the bait! I try again, same thing, nothing. Again...nothing! After many tries I strike and I have something on the end. I pull it through the water and jump as quite suddenly and unexpectedly huge teeth appear from nowhere and bite the struggling piranha from my line. The caiman obviously know that fishermen provide a far easier way of catching lunch than looking for it themselves! One caiman moves right up to the bank, I am worried to say the least, I struggle up the bank backwards to get away. My guide laughs - yeh right you stand down hear & I'll laugh while you get mauled to death! He comes down nonchalantly and shows me the tactic of getting rid of them - I'm not convinced!

 

©Ian Picken 2004