Piranha Fishing Prannies

Awoke @ 5.30am by what sounded like a chicken being killed. Everyone
seems awake apart from Keels, snoring away like a hog. The rain last
night has bought a slight, chill to the air. Fairplay, as it is
extremely humid in these parts. Thinking about it, last nights storm
was preceded by a few hours of sudden blasts of light. Raymond
confirmed that the light was indeed the storm. That's pretty crazy,
that basically means you get a 4-5 hour warning that a storm is coming.
Seeing as this is just a vast natural basin, I suppose, there is
nothing to inhibit the elements from showing their faces early. The
smell of the jungle is great. A really sweet smell of vegetation.
Definitely the sweetest smelling, cleanest, yet humid, air I've had the
pleasure to breathe. We're to visit some water lilies that can handle
the weight of a child, pick up our belongings, strut, then myself,
Keels &; Raymond will kip out in the jungle with a hammock &; a
tent. I'm shitting myself.

Fatboy wakes - tucker - then onto the boat, viewed more jumping fish
&; pink dolphins. A couple of km later, we cruised onto the river
bank. On the way, Raymond told us that we're okay in the areas we're
visiting to piss up anywhere we please. It is only in the water by the
beaches that insects swim up your stream of urine, lodge themselves up
your Japs Eye &; breed.

The strut was cool. Plenty of flora &; fauna. The trees were pretty
incredible. They grow from the ground to the canopy, then send roots
down to re-root the tree &; feed off the jungle floor. The floor is
just a mish mash of rotting leaves, twisted barks, holes of varying
sizes &; termite mounds. Raymond knew his stuff - showed us rubber
trees, some trees that the Indians use the sap of to kill fish &; a
tree that we drunk agua from, a tree that makes a massive noise once
struck, etc. etc. Saw monkeys, a squirrel, birds, butterflies &;
insects. It was not as full on as I expected, but to be quite honest,
that is a good thing &; we are in the dry season. The lagoon where
the lilies were, was just something else. Massive coloured birds, the
fear of caimans, snakes, spiders &; piranhas, the heat. Fucking
great.

Back to the village &; time to get in with the village children. It
took me half an hour of swinging them about, then almost collapsing due
to exhaustion to get them on our side, but they loved it. Keels' fluent
Spanish has also helped us get in with Raymond. They're starting to
realise we're not your typical gringoids. Raymond persuaded us to have
a bath in the river. Beforehand, he ensured he told us that it is also
piranha infested. There are three different varieties - red, blue &;
black. The red &; blue are cool unless you are bleeding. The black
ones don't give a shit &; will eat anything in their way. Luckily,
the former two are only in these parts. Feeling pressurised &;
spotting five year olds jumping in, we humbly entered.

The fish literally nibble you, as you stand in the river. Not enough to
break skin, but just a little nibble to check out what it is in their
way. We were chatting to Raymond, when suddenly, one of the many
jumping fish, shot out of the water &; smacked him across his chops.
I couldn't stop laughing for a good five minutes &; had to swim
away. He just brushed it away as if it were merely a rogue hair.

This village is wicked. Its name is Zacambu, which is supposedly the
name of the main man in the vill - there are about six large wooden
huts, housing four very large families &; a school. Each family is
about 20 strong, as there isn't really anything else to do after dark,
with no electricity. Supposedly, only two of the families are from
direct Indian descent &; the others just wanted to get away from
existence as it stands today. They're all beautiful looking people
though. We've already spotted a few super model potentials &;
they're only about 6 years old.

After dinner, we went piranha fishing, using pieces of piranha as bait.
Caught about four each. It was the first time I've ever fished in my
life, so I'm bound to be anal in the future about the first fish I ever
caught being a piranha. At one point, one flew off my hook &;
bounced off Keels' knee. We almost capsized.

All of the piranhas were stored by Keels' tempting toes, whilst I
witnessed the slow death of a sardine I also caught. I felt terrible.
The fact that water was continually streaming into the boat meant it
struggled for life for the duration. I almost wept, but couldn't bring
myself to save it, as it was dinner. Got out of the boat at some
desolate shoreline &; were told to get our gear &; start looking
for a good camping place.

We couldn't be arsed to move about with all the shite, so we decided to
set up camp near the river. Raymond put the fish in a plastic bag &;
we hung them off a branch, whilst we removed the tent &; bags from
the boat. Keels &; I erected our tent, whilst Raymond hung up his
hammock between two branches &; started a fire.

Thinking we'd be tasting the fodder we had just caught, we strolled
triumphantly upto the bag of fish. They were found covered in six foot
ants. The only thing left to do was flick a couple of a by now dead
piranha &; pose for bragging photos, (spear in hand for added
drama). So we had a tin of tuna, rice &; a banana for dinner. Hollow
supper. Being the king he is, Keels requested a night time
stroll.

Raymond was shitting himself, we were shitting ourselves &; we had a
terrifying hour long walk, as we couldn't see a thing. The only light
we had was a tiny torch fatboy had bought. We nervously edged through
the jungle, as Raymond checked every nook, cranny &; orifice for
spiders &; snakes &; set up the odd obstacle for pumas &; the
like. We arrived back at camp alive &; decided it was time to crash
before fatboy came out with anymore bright ideas. Half an hour later, I
was jolted upright by the sound of a big cat breathing outside our
tent. A very deep continual 'RRRRRR - PHHHHHHHH - RRRRRR'. I whispered
to Keels - no reply - whispered again - nothing. Paranoia started
kicking in that the panther or whatever the fuck it was would slash its
way in, after hearing my voice. This left me no other option, but to
start nudging Keels, to see whether I was tripping out. Nothing -
'RRRRRRRRR - PHHHHHHHH - RRRRRRR' - fear crept in that my movement
would kick the large feline into action. Five minutes of very rapid
breathing later, feeling unable to move or make a noise through fear of
being a palatable delight, I realised that it was infact fatboy Keels,
snoring.