If you can believe this, it’s actually pretty hard to sleep when it’s 95 degrees and you’re sweating. The opportunity to maybe get another hour of sleep was more appealing even though breakfast was still 630am. By 7am, the sun was beating down oppressively once again. We had a knock on our door wondering why we weren’t at the boat leaving at 7. We didn’t realize there was another boat in addition to the sunrise boat which we were also offered. As I infamously told a Naval liaison at my congressman’s office in high school, “I. Don’t. Like. Boats.” It would be one thing, if each time you went on a boat, you went someplace new or could expect to see something different. But they just keep sending us out to near certain death in the middle of the day in hopes of seeing something trivial like a bird.
We declined that boat tour as well. There’s a limit to how many boats we can ride, and it’s been hit. We saw a group of six head out on the boat never to be seen again. As I discussed with Nicole, there’s no way everyone can find this to be enjoyable, but I feel like everyone is afraid to admit it or say it out loud. The Frenchman from Tahiti has had body language that suggests he’s been over this since the first full day. Most people do a full week at the lodge. Based on the board of daily activities, they just keep repeating the same stuff. As Nicole, pointed out — it’s the dry season, so shouldn’t there be some more hikes into the forest while this is even an option? It would give people the opportunity to be a bit closer to nature instead of seeing it from great distance.
We spent our morning relaxing instead. I watched over the water trying to capture an arapaima (the real big fish) surfacing. I was moderately successful in this venture, but it required time and patience — something that the Uakari Lodge doesn’t really grant you with their structured itineraries. I am conflicted about our experience here. It was cool to see the rare Uakari monkey, but the way these excursions are organized does not fit our way of traveling. Too much structure and zero flexibility. Everything we had read indicated that the Amazon could be underwhelming if one had also gone to the Pantanal. Agreed. We added this segment on to experience it all nonetheless. I still believe it was better to see the Amazon this way than to do one of the hundreds of tours out of Manaus, but there need to be more options. I’ve eaten so many beans and rice for pretty much the last 9 meals that I’m chronically bloated and can’t stop farting.
They threw us out at 930am even though the boat was supposed to be at 10am. They claimed there could be storms. There were not. In some ways, this was almost more cosplay than true adventure. We go to a remote village and the guy’s cellphone keeps going off because he has full cell service, which we didn’t have for four days. The lodge would be fully capable of making their rooms more comfortable, but choose not to. A ceiling fan could go a long way and would still be energy efficient. We carried some heavy hiking shoes in our suitcases for the whole trip because the lodge was so dramatic about needing them and they were really only used once. They told us to pack our own water bottles before our trip in the name of being eco conscious, but then also sell plastic bottles in their store.
We are glad we had the experience, but it doesn’t mean we enjoyed every second of it. It’s a challenge to live in that kind of environment for days on end, which is why we find it shocking that most people do this over and over again for a week. The boat ride back to Tefé took a little over an hour and we were shuttled off in air-conditioned comfort to the tiny Tefé airport to sit around for 3.5 hours. We shared a car with the elder Spanish couple that look like Salt, everyone’s favorite senior travel couple. They don’t speak much English, so I said, “Y ahora tenemos much tiempo en un aeropuerto que es bastante pequeno.” Halfway into my sentence about remarking on the long layover in a small airport, I switched inadvertently to Portuguese. They understood nonetheless.
On that note, the code switching of our group was off the chain. The Frenchman could speak French to the Spanish man, who didn’t know Portuguese, but his wife knew a little bit, so the guide spoke to both of them in Portuguese as it worked better than English. The Frenchman would also speak French to me on occasion or english to Nicole (which was honestly much harder to understand than his French). He found it funny that my name is Brian — it’s a persistent joke in French culture because their textbooks introduce the character of Brian when they’re first learning English. “Where is Brian?” “Brian is in the kitchen!” French people find this hilarious. You’re not laughing? Shame. That joke would have killed in Marseille. If you’re picturing this conversation all going down with a man gesticulating with a cigarette in his hand, you should be ashamed for feeding the stereotypes. He was vaping.
We sat outside of security at the Tefé airport until the plane arrived from Tapatinga. The Tefé airport felt the need to invest in a big tv to show the departures for the day. There is one flight. There is one gate. I don’t think anyone is consulting the monitor for further information. The power kept going out (due to the drain created from the very important flight monitor obviously) which forced the X-ray system to be restarted each time. Soon after security, we boarded the Azul ATR in seats 12A and 12B. I asked for a juice for my inflight drink and was given suco de caju (cashew juice). Apparently cashew nuts come from the outer part of a cashew apple which is a proper fruit. And now you know. It was a little bit bumpier over to Manaus, but we arrived on time despite my old nemesis the airport bus. After taking an Uber to the Ibis Styles in central Manaus, we set out to explore.
The hotel is close to the main attraction of the historic center of Manaus — the Teatro Amazonas. It seems out of place in the otherwise kind of gritty and edgy metropolis of Manaus. Its history is equally as bizarre. In the late 19th century, as European explorers were branching out through the Amazon mapping rivers or looking for El Dorado, they also brought back samples of rubber. This in turn created great demand for this newfangled (but not new to the indigenous peoples) product and heavy investment into the region suddenly turned Manaus into a very wealthy boom town. There was so much money in the hands of these rubber barons that one of the most ostentatious theaters of the time was built in a town in the middle of the Amazon.
Our brief guided tour into the theater let us know that almost all materials were imported from Europe — roof tiles handcrafted in Alsace, Italian marble brought in for the columns, and real gold accents above an attached ballroom. Trump only wishes he could create something as majestic. Respected opera troupes from all over Europe were invited to perform here, though many later contracted yellow fever and/or malaria. It fell into disrepair a little bit after rubber seeds were smuggled to Southeast Asia and the Amazonian monopoly ended. It is however still in use and there was a play happening that night for just 10 reais ($2) per person. Malaria not included.
For our preflight meal, I took Nicole to a place down the street called Angatu. It was certainly a more local joint. Naturally we searched for a pizza place for Nicole, but the nearest one had some reviews that ended in “explosive diarrhea.” We looked elsewhere. We each had some sandwiches as well as fried banana and a waffle. I washed it down with a Chopp Sujo which is kind of like a summer shandy, but with salt on the rim of the glass. It was refreshing for the first couple minutes until the heat of Manaus took over. A guy at our hotel carrying three bottles of water got into the elevator with us and said he was there for a meteorological convention and was absolutely melting. The heat here is something else. They had fans going at the restaurant but it just blew warm air on everyone. We returned to the Ibis for a short night of sleep.
You see, our flight leaves at 330am, which is not the most ideal time for a plane to leave, but that’s kind of how Manaus likes to do it. The Ibis is only about $65, so we’re using it more as a base of operations to shower and rest than a place to have a good night’s rest. We’ll try and get a couple hours of sleep and then it’s off to Panama City and hopefully Los Angeles.
