A global welcome

I have been remiss in welcoming new visitors from around the globe, so to those of you who have reached us from or via (not in any order):

India, Norway, Finland, Saudi Arabia, Israel, Botswana, The Lebanon, Bangladesh, Thailand, The Philippines, Taiwan, Puerto Rico, Mexico, Barbados, Portugal, Italy, Switzerland, Holland, Germany, or Bolivia...

...thanks for stopping by!

I've added a link to the guesthouse website now, under "Some Links", for those who were asking recently. And if anyone has any other site(s) or blog(s) they think should be added, please let me know.

Novo Airao

The trip to Novo Airao went well, in spite of some weird weather on the way up, with wind and current both from the northwest, and which whipped the river into rather an agitated state (sorry Hilary – no pictures of this). It was nothing too wild, but very tiring, as there’s a 20km stretch of open water which you can’t really avoid crossing, and you have to just buffet your way through. It also took me a bit by surprise, as I’d insisted that we leave just before dawn (pic) to avoid ‘the weather’. Anyway, once across the open stretch, in the lee of the first of the Anavilhanas’ estimated 400 islands, the whole thing quietened down considerably, and the rest of it was plain, um, sailing, as it were. But it did mean it took us around 4 hours to get to our destination. We stopped at the relatively new Anavilhanas Lodge to have a quick look around: it seems fine, and the people were friendly, so we’ll probably be recommending this as an option to guests seeking a jungle lodge. After this, we headed around the corner to the one-boat village of Novo Airao itself. And of course the primary aim of this was to see what all the fuss was about with these dolphins.

The port of Novo Airao is very small, with hardly room to squeeze the Shamrock in between a few other local boats, and when you get off your boat you’re greeted with a dusty street, a few ramshackle bars and a kind of terminal for people to get on and off the regional boats plying their trade between Manaus and Barcelos or Sao Gabriel da Cachoeira. Across the little harbour is a white flutuante where they’ll sell you a (very small) fish for (very much – R$15!) money, to feed the dolphins; and at the back of the flutuante, you can just hop in the water with your fish and hand it out to your new-found friends. Naturally, I had to have a go – so it was off with at least some of the togs and straight into the water. I didn’t have any fish at this point, and the dolphins wouldn’t let me forget it – they nudged, flippered and generally cajoled me until Naice arrived with the (somewhat frozen) fish.

It was amazing being in the water with these wee beasties. I thought they would be gentle, shy, intelligent Flipper-like beings who would uncannily understand me as if telepathically and so on (a bit like my colleagues at SEELB, maybe…). Not so – they behaved like spoilt dogs and spent their time bullying everyone into handing out the fish; and as soon as all the fish was gone, well, so were they. But it was still a fantastic experience, and thoroughly recommended. You can see me being flippered in one of the photos, which should amuse some of you.

On the way back, we strayed into the Anavilhanas reserve itself, and pottered along one of its totally deserted canals, with the river like a mirror and the undisturbed, primary rainforest towering along its banks. Apart from an occasional flock of red Macaws, screeching on their way overhead, when we stopped the engine it was so quiet all you could hear was a faint ringing in your ears (or maybe that was tinnitus). Wonderful. One of the photos shows how difficult it can be sometimes to figure out quite where the river ends and the sky begins.

The NW breeze had dropped almost completely and we worked out that the speed of the current (now in our favour) was about 2.5 - 3kph, so we were fairly skimming along at around 45kph on the way back, and made the whole journey in 2 hours 45 minutes, even with our stop in the Anavilhanas. Average speed on the way up, 28kph; on the way back, 41kph – a record I doubt I shall ever beat in the Shamrock.

p.s. Some myths debunked, following the trip: 1) the deepest water in the Negro is 150ft – nonsense - we measured 285ft at one point; and 2) the widest clear stretch (i.e. no islands in the way) of the Negro is 9.8km – rubbish, we realised this on the way up, and if you measure in Google Earth, you can see that the widest stretch is approximately11.98km.

Bug of the Month (2006)

Kirstie, the beetle you were asking about that I photographed in Rio Preta da Eva (June 26th) is a Harlequin Long-Horned Beetle (Acrocinus longimanus, as you'll probably know). If you follow bugs, as it were, you'll probably also know that it was selected as "Bug of the Month" by godofinsects.com in June 2006. I quote:

"A fantastic Neotropical longhorn beetle, conspicuous for it's large size, beautiful colors and the amazing length of the front legs on the male. These elongated limbs (much reduced in the female) are a secondary sex characteristic, used in mating. It should also be noted that it aids them in traversing the tree trunks on which they can be found. Females seek out old trees, such as Ficus, that are infested with bracket fungi. An incision is made in the bark and an egg deposited. Larvae bore into the timber for 7-8 months and then pupate for the remainder of the year, to emerge and start the cycle anew."

So there you are.

Novo Airao

The first boat trip up the Rio Negro is planned for this Friday, setting off at 05:30 on the 110km run up the left bank. We’re doing this a) because I want to do it, b) because we’d like to visit a jungle lodge there, and c) because apparently there’s a floating restaurant up there where they’ve managed to train some of the river dolphin to eat from your hand and where you can swim with them. Of course this isn’t organised along your typical European standards – it’s a case of you buy some fish, jump in the river and hope for the best. If you drown/get eaten alive etc., well that’s your problem. I like it.

So anyway, we’ll set off at the crack of dawn and cross the widest single stretch of the Negro (9.8km) right at the mouth of our little River Taruma. Then we’ll tootle up the left bank, skimming over the deepest part of the Negro at something like 150ft, until we get to the narrowest part of the Negro, which is always a bit bumpy (naturally). Here we make a dash for the start of the Anavilhanas Archipelago – the largest freshwater archipelago in the world, and a nature reserve – and pass along its left-hand-most islands. At this stage we’ll also be keeping an eye out along the way for any interesting jungle camping terrain (as requested by some of our more adventurous future guests, Dawn). After passing three small tributaries and various settlements, we should finally reach Novo Airao around 09:30 or thereabouts. Following a visit to the jungle lodge, lunch and a swim with the dolphins, we’ll head back, maybe taking a little time out to admire some of the Anavilhanas, and with luck we’ll be back around sunset.

Pics to follow, and if we have any, um, difficult or “interesting” moments, I must get them on camera for Hilary, who complained that all she ever sees are the nice, picturesque parts of the journey. So don’t blame me if the next caption is something like “this is us being eaten by piranha. Naice is in the foreground and to the left you can just see part of my lower leg.”

"We're busy doing nothing, working the whole day through..."

All is tranquil at the Guesthouse. We have no guests until 16th August, so we have a kind of summer holiday on our hands. As usual on one’s summer holiday (unless one can afford to go somewhere), what else is there to do but paint and decorate? We are planning a boat trip to the town of Novo Airao on Friday, and we have a barbecue for some of Naice’s friends on Sunday, but other than that it’s the maintenance season. I have already started wiring a light in the downstairs loo, and have finally managed to get the swimming pool looking good again after a looong battle with it; and next week the roller is coming out and I’ll be starting with the floor paint outside. Joy. On top of this, our gardener is on holiday until the end of August, so I’m cutting the grass myself, and we also have a few other tasks to get organised, like getting some rendering done round the back of the house and fixing the guttering where the rain’s coming in in the wet season. Okay, so maybe it’s not that tranquil at the guesthouse, after all...

For a bonus point, from which film are the lyrics in the title taken?

Rei dos Rios

The Brazilian magazine Veja has published an article about research conducted by the Brazilian national space institute, INPE, showing that the Amazon is the longest river in the world. So for those of you who thought it was the Nile, please amend your text books. Apparently the Nile is (only – hah!) 6,852 km long, whereas the Amazon is 6,992km. No doubt most Brazilians are very proud of this fact, even if many of them have only the sketchiest idea where the Amazon is (but to be fair, it’s probably a bit like asking your average Eastender where the Humber Estuary is…). National pride can be a good thing, and I think in Brazil it’s pretty healthy. I would go so far as to say that it should be encouraged (here), and I have often felt aggrieved on the Brazilians' behalf that whilst the Wright brothers are synonymous with the first manned flight, in fact (according to Brazil) it was Santos Dumont. There are probably other examples, too. So you tell ‘em, Brazil.