Preparation, Preparation, PreparationThe Final CountdownEl Mercado Mira FloresLa SelvaChipaotaThe First Leg: Chasuta to YurimaguasPacaya Samiria ReserveThe way to Iquitosto LeticiaThe Slow Boat to ManausDifficult Questions
Embed trip
View in Google Earth
Rss news about this trip
GPX Track
Journal
Location
Leticia, Colombia
From Iquitos we made our way down to Indianna, a modern little town unlike anything we had seen on the river. The further we travel down the river the richer and more more modern are the communties and Indianna was no excption.
We left the cement sidewalks and street lights for Pevas, a smaller town tucked away off the main river on a small side channel. When we pulled into Pevas we saw a big sprawling ramshackle mansion of plywood and tin with a lookout tower that dominated the otherwise nonexistant skyline situated on a hill overlooking the town. there lives Pancho Grippa, one of the most bizarre, crazed, tragic, and mad men I have met on this trip. Grippa is an artist and a living legend on this part of the river. Everyone knows him and they haven't met they know of him and he doesn't give damn about anything. He built his sanctuary on a hill and lets travellers stay in it for free, has a full-time staff to cook and clean for him and spends his days walking the streets, painting and drinking and he does all three with great enthusiasm. There are pictures of him on the walls of his gallery when he was younger with a willd head of thick black hair, beard like Che Guevara and madness in his eyes. Now he's fat and his hair is thinning, but there is still something in his eyes that tells that still burns and is still captivating. At his house we met Cassandra, a twenty-six year old girl from Miami. Her father used to smugle plane-loads of cocaine from Colombia to Miami. He was on his last run when the law caught up with him on a pit-stop in the Bahamas. The plane was to put away seventy five million then quit. He lost everything and spent fourteen years in jail. Sometimes it takes losing everything to find out what you really want. He now has a farm outside of Iquitos and is lives simply with this family and wife. Cassandra wanted to come with us to the border and she seemed nice enough so we said "why not," and that was that. She paddled with us for three days and decided she had had enough so we parted ways in Caballo Cocha. It was a big three days for her. She camped on the beach with us, paddled with us and slept on the floor of a thatch hut in a little community we stoped in one night. It was something that she herself said she would never forget, and I was thankful that we had the opportunity to give something special to someone because the trip so many people have given so much to us. We paddled another three lazy days to the border. The last night we camped on the beach, ate a quiet dinner and watched the sunset sad to know that that would be our last night on the river. The next day we arrived at the border and gave our boat away to a guy who owned a small balsa in the port. We were in Leticia, the destination we were aiming at for over a month and it was strange, empty feeling to be there. There was no fist pumping, no back slapping, no triumphant snapshots like those of a mountaineer on the summit of some great peak. We were there and all I could think was 'well, now what.' The only thing left to do was look for a hotel and go buy a ticket on a slow boat for Manaus.
Comments |
Log in to add comment |
No comments