I traversed immigration and customs and then met up with Rick and Mary Pat in the Lima airport with only a short wait for our flight to Puerto Maldonado.  I expected some sort of rinky-dink airline as this flight is basically a commuter flight flown several times daily.  I was pleasantly surprised to see the roomy seats and especially that I got three to myself!  The flight is only a little more than an hour so, before we knew it, we were descending into the jungle onto a runway literally cut out of the dense rainforest.

After getting our checked bags, we were met by a guy holding a sign with our names and were loaded into a rather beat up van.  I guess the van was better than all the little three wheel taxis.  We embarked on this harrowing ride on a dirt road full of potholes that could swallow my VW Bug.  Even though the distance is a mere 5-1/2 miles, it took almost an hour!  We passed a huge shanty town which our driver told me contains squatters numbering two to three thousand.  Mangy dogs wander aimlessly, smoke wafts up through the air from fires in big metal cans.  As it is hot and humid, we were baffled as to the purpose of these fires.  When I asked why these people are there, I was told that it is a political thing.  They originally migrated from other parts of Peru seeking jobs mining gold in the Madre de Dios Region.

According to an article by Bill Weir of CNN,

Much like the ’49ers sluiced for treasure in California more than 150 years ago, these miners use primitive methods involving mercury. Most don’t fully understand that “quicksilver” is toxic to every form of life in the Amazon. Or that since they fish the same waters they mine, it can end up in their own bloodstream, causing a host of health problems.

 

We finally arrived at Sotupa Eco House on the banks of the Rio Tambopata.  A gem located outside of Puerto Maldonado proper (a city of approximately 80,000), this lodge is family-owned and operated.  Jean Pierre (the son) runs the place, bartends, and is a very charismatic and knowledgeable inn keeper.  A cozy cabin overlooking the river was our home for the night.  Dinner was announced by a gong…local sausage, wild rice, and spices.

After dinner, we joined Jean Pierre at the bar where Mary Pat and I chose Cusquena (local beer) as our libation.  Rick drank a Inca Kola that, to me, was reminiscent of vanilla sodas they used to make at soda fountains back in the day.

On the way back to our cabin, a porcupine scuttled its way through the brush.  Meanwhile, chickens and roosters wander the property at will and many multi-colored birds serenade.