Flying Fish Pant Head

First sound of the day was from Keels: 'FUCKING HELL!'
First sight of the day: A tarantula 1 foot from my head - luckily on
the other side of the canvas.
First smell of the day: Keels' stinking pits.

Shat myself, as I thought the tarantula was moving about, but realised
it was infact me, getting changed. My Buddha like morals are starting
to wear thin. I'm very tempted to kill anything that moves. We slowly
crept out of the tent to find Raymond was already up &; had prepared
us a fine breakfast of scrambled eggs. Munched up - then one of the
villagers arrived &; we all started packing up. By the time we got
to the tent &; removed the cover sheet, we found the tarantula was
still there. The breakfast obviously gave me some courage as I stuck my
head less than a foot away just for a photograph. We feebly attempted
to flick it off with twigs - all shitting ourselves - then with each of
us on a corner of the tent - gave it one mighty fling in the air &;
scarpered - we returned to find the tent spiderless.

The local took our gear back to the village on the boat, whilst myself,
Keels &; Raymond walked back. It must have been only about 1-2 km
from the village, but the walk took a good two &; a half hours.
Marvelled over some more trees, animals &; vegetation. Everything
seems to be on average ten times larger than their English counterpart.
Amazing what nature manages to evolve to without the annoyance of
humans. Everything feeds off each other. You just seem to see the whole
food chain in every view. I have come to the conclusion that, here in
the Amo, if you leave everything (plant &; animal) well alone &;
allow them to get on with life, you'll be okay. The biggest problem I
feel is getting over your own paranoia.

After being bitten by more insects, stung by a wasp as I passed its
nest &; spiked through my skull by some branch, we reached the
village.

Greeted by the wee whipper snappers, who had by now told their friends
about us. So the number of kids I now had to please had bulged to about
ten. Near collapse, then had another wash in the river &; decided to
Daniel Galvin it up with dub, big time. Need that hair thickening
formula for my ever diminishing swede. Dinner consisted of rice,
lentils, piranha &; a hot dog. The piranha was lovely, although
extremely boney - the hot dogs were left untouched. We discussed with
Raymond that we were up for coming back, but less of the tinned shite
next time. It's rank. We've agreed that we'll fish or hunt for our
food. Oops, maybe that was a bad idea, seeing as the fishing threw up
so many moral struggles. More play with the kids, packed, then handed
the villagers a big bag full of provisions. Loads of medical stuff, the
obvious pens, paper, dictionary &; seeing as they already sported
T-shirts &; the like, specifically gave them designer brand jeans
&; shirts, just so as any following gringoids would be doubly
gutted, if they were expecting some sort of ethnic bollocks. On
leaving, the Chiefs lady came running upto us, brandishing two pairs of
Keels' skanky pants.

'No importante' said Keels.

'Apesta (instigator of the plague)' said me.

The village cracked up laughing, but kept them anyway.

Feel very sad leaving. Whilst viewing an abundance of pink dolphins on
the boat back to Benjamin Constant, we notice that Raymond is wearing a
pair of lightweight cotton briefs on his head. Protection from flying
fish, we feel. I decided to join his posse, by sporting my very own
Ralph Laurens on my sweating swede. Discussions of marriage to Kati
&; Catherine (two of the kids) when they are ripe enough, Cat
Stevens &; Radiohead songs &; continual bailing out of water
follow until we reach Benjamin Constant where we exchange the dugout
canoe with a high powered speedboat. I got completely drenched by the
waves of a passing ocean liner at one point. Extremely depressed, as we
now finally realise we've returned to the 20th century. I really didn't
want to leave the idyllic surroundings of the village. It was
definitely a Commy's utopia. No place for an accountant.

On reaching Tabatinga we were greeted by Mowgli. I forgot that geek
existed. He charged us an extortionate price for some herb. 'It does
not grow in these parts.' was his obvious reply, but he also sorted out
our river plane tickets to Iquitos for no fee. I've got about 50 bites
of varying sizes over my body. So much for the garlic tablets &;
insect repellent. Although, a night out, camping in the Amazon Jungle
isn't exactly the most sensible thing to do. Fingers crossed, none of
those Blighters were carrying a disease or its off to the hospital for
me when I return home, as I refuse to take the mind bending shite they
pass as malaria tablets. The last time my doctor advised me to take
them, I asked what the side effects were. 'Well, you may get the odd
psychotic nightmare.'

We arranged to meet Raymond tomorrow &; booked into a hotel in
Leticia. Toke up, then popped out for a bite to eat &; an amble
around town with our pre rolled spliferoonees. We've got no more Rizla
left &; it is extremely difficult to obtain in South America, so had
to empty out a snout - mix up - prod back in. Slow &; arduous
process, but you have to take the rough with the smooth sometimes.
Ended up pissed out of my head after five beers. So much for
rock'n'roll. Very funny though, the gibber was basically anti
capitalism, western imperialism, religion &; attempting to think of
ways to get the working class in Blightsville, to realise what a
hideous state of play Western life actually is. Loads of couples, old
bill, stray dogs, lizards &; cockroaches were roaming the
streets.