2025 - Salter's travels

Black Sea

With two speeding tickets to my name, I needed to up my game if Turkey was not going to become very expensive. The obvious strategy would be to stay below the limit. However, as I had found out to my cost, it is not always easy to know what the limit is for bikes. My satnav was completely useless in this respect. Roads signs only gave limited information. Background reading was often contradictory. I read that the limit on motorways was 80 kph for bikes. With the rest of the traffic doing 130 kph this did not sound at all safe. All the speed radars that I had seen were forward facing. This is good news for bikes because they can’t capture your number plate. It only works when there is someone down the road, watching a live feed, that can flag you down. The set up for this was usually a small temporary warning sign on the hard shoulder. A couple of hundreds of metres later would be a parked police vehicle with the radar mounted on its roof and a similar distance further along the road would be coned down to one lane where the police were waiting. There were also radar and other sensors on gantries over the road. Most of these, at the entrance and exit to towns, were, I think, more to do with ANR. Keeping track of who goes where.

The road north to Hapa on the Black Sea was spectacular. It wound along a series of mountain passes and was virtually deserted. The sun was shining and the air was fresh. We had a relaxed night at a resort type hotel on the coast and then turned west. The coast road was very different but equally enjoyable. Mostly it was tight, twisty roads in and out of the small valleys running down to the sea. Occasionally we dropped into a town and here the road would be dual carriageway interrupted by multiple sets of traffic lights. There was usually a hard shoulder. Separated from the main carriageway by a solid white light. It found far more use that just being for breakdowns. It was also used for parking, for horse drawn vehicles, for filtering at lights (even for cars), for loading and unloading trucks and could also be used if you needed to drive against the main flow of traffic. Very useful.

After three days we turned inland to avoid Istanbul. Far too busy to be an enjoyable ride. We find big cities are better visited on foot. Instead, we headed towards the Dardanelles straits where we could cross to Gelibolu and mainland Europe. This area controls maritime access to the Black Sea and has been the scene of many conflicts over the ages. In WW1 over 300,000 soldiers were killed at Gallipoli in a failed invasion that lasted eight months and badly discredited Winston Churchill. The largest single span suspension bridge in the world is here. Built in 1915, the Çanakkale bridge has a central span of just over two kilometres. We chose the ferry but nearly changed our minds when we saw the queue. Sometimes, however, being on a bike is just wonderful. We were waved though. Past rows of trucks and scores of cars right up to the ship. Here we just had time to buy a ticket before being literally the last vehicle onboard.

A short ride took us the border with Greece. Here I had to pay my speeding fines. Just the two, I had successfully avoided any further trouble. No further checks, so long as the bill was paid I was free to go. So we arrived in Greece and lovely hotel in a quiet village just past Alexandroupoli.

Lake Van

Leaving Göreme we headed off into some lovely wide-open roads that curved up into the hills. Traffic was light. The air was cool. We lent into the curves and let the KTM enjoy a bit of space and freedom. Then, coming round a bend, the traffic police pulled me over and gave me a speeding fine. That smarted a bit. Suitably contrite, we resumed the road at a steadier pace. Then came a textbook example of the sympathetic use of nature. One that completed our transition from joyous freedom to serious intent. It started to rain. The rain got heavier so we took shelter at a petrol station. We didn’t need fuel. Just sat under cover drinking Turkish tea until things improved. Back on the road we got another couple of hours in before another squall hit. This time we did need petrol, so I dived into the next station. A pleasant young lad filled the bike and then invited us for tea while the rain passed. I went out to check the bike while it was parked under the station canopy. Always a good idea to periodically look over the tyres, chain and so on. While I was busy with this, the lad, barely in his mid-twenties, was declaring his love for Diane – via Google Translate. Seriously. She explained that she was nearly seventy to which he replied that she hid her age with her beauty. When the conversation turned to sex my princess decided it was time for a swift exit. Putting her helmet on as she came over to the bike, she explained that she had pulled but it was time to go.

Arriving at our hotel in Mus, which advertised private on-site parking, we were invited to park the bike right outside the hotel entrance. This involved a couple of steep ramps onto a polished marble floor. I was happy that I managed this without dropping the bike. Next day, we headed to Lake Van. This is enormous. We could not see across it. The weather improved enormously and we had a lovely drive along the south side of the lake to the city of Van. Parking arrangements here were similar to Mus. The bike ended up right outside the rotating door to the hotel. We went of to explore the city but did not get much further than a very nice bar where we enjoyed some wine. For dinner we visited a restaurant specialising in pide. A Turkish version of pizza (which came first?). Bread with melted cheese and mushrooms cooked in a wood fired oven. Served with salad and a tomato and garlic salsa.

In the morning, we went to see a sanctuary for Van cats run by the university. Van cats, originating from Lake Van in Turkey often have heterochromia (one eye of each colour) and are known as the swimming cats. They have been observed to swim in Lake Van. The ones we saw in a sanctuary had their own swimming pool but we did not see them swim – and we were not allowed to throw them in the water. They were extremely cute though and we paid extra to feed them. Leaving Lake Van we passed a big blue road sign that posted the speed limits for various vehicles. 110 kph for cars, lower speeds for different categories of truck. Ten minutes later I was pulled over for speeding again. Now I discovered that although it is not posted, anywhere, the speed limit for motorcycles, on the main roads, is 90 kph. I was flabbergasted. A key issue for motorcycling is being able to keep up with the flow of traffic. Forcing motorbikes to be slower than cars and most trucks is simply asking for trouble. And I had another speeding fine.

Pressing on, our route took us off the main road and up into the mountains. The rain arrived and then got heavier. The temperature dropped as we climbed. The road was terrific but we found it increasingly hard to enjoy as we got colder and wetter. By the top of the pass, 2,600 m, it was a mere 4°C. Leaving Van it had been a balmy 26°C. We looked and felt like a pair of drowned rats. My toes were numb. Diane was shivering. Only just higher than us was fresh snow across the mountain tops. Coming down was a dilemma. Crack on and suffer the wind chill or slow down and take longer. The route was spectacular but we were very pleased to reach our hotel in Erzurum. This is one of Turkey’s premier ski resorts. The receptionist told us there had been snow there in the morning.

The next day was one of those when I was really pleased that we were not on an organised trip. The weather forecast was awful. More rain and cold. The following day however was sunny and warm. So, we changed our plans, we stayed put. I did some more planning. We explored the city and caught up with the clothes washing. By the time we left, we were refreshed, relaxed and the weather was lovely. Aiming due north, we set off towards the Black Sea.

Cappadocia

Two days of steady riding bought us to Göreme in the region of Cappadocia. We had a night in a very local hotel on the way, where I am sure we were the only foreigners. Dinner and breakfast were served as a buffet in an enormous and mostly empty restaurant. The translation app on my phone saw heavy service as we attempted to identify the dishes. We mostly enjoyed the food. Diane was not impressed by raw chillis for breakfast, I thought they did a wonderful job of waking you up. Tea, Turkish tea, was ubiquitous. Often prepared in a heated urn with two taps. One for tea, one for hot water. We found we needed to dilute the tea considerably. Coffee was usually the instant, powdered stuff although occasionally we found genuine Turkish coffee. Made using very finely ground coffee beans so you get an espresso sized cup which is about 1/3 coffee sludge. Strong and bit gritty. I am developing a taste for it while my teeth are turning black.

The second day was wet. We arrived in Göreme in the rain. Fortunately, the hotel was lovely and, one of the benefits of visiting a tourist destination, is that we found an Indian restaurant. In stark contrast the last few days, this place was crawling with foreigners. Göreme sits at the heart of a network of valleys filled with astonishing rock formations. Fairy towers are pillars of rock that pop up everywhere. Many of these have been hollowed out inside. Once, they were hiding places for Christians escaping the Romans. Today, many of them have become boutique hotels. Göreme was little visited by tourists until the 1970s but by 2000 had become the tourist capital of Cappadocia. Tourism brought wealth and a better standard of living to the village. It also changed the local agricultural life completely. The town is now packed with shops offering balloon trips, local tours, souvenirs, ATV trips, pony treks, camel rides and photo shooting opportunities. Here you can hire a voluminous red silk dress, an open top American car and a photographer so that, early in the morning, you can pose in front of the balloons. This mostly appeals to young Asian women but I guess it would be open for anyone.

The hot air balloons. I had seen photographs of balloons at Göreme and assumed that the image was from an annual festival. No. Every single morning, weather permitting, over a hundred brightly coloured balloons take to the sky. Hot air ballooning in Cappadocia started in 1991 with a competition of professional hot air ballooners from all over the world. Since then it has blossomed. 25 balloon companies, 250 balloons and up to 165 balloons launched each morning. Cappadocia is considered one of the best places in the world for ballooning. The weather is generally well suited and the area has a unique scenery of magnificent volcanic mountains, natural fairy chimneys, oddly shaped valleys, pigeon houses and stone carved churches. It was going to mean an early start but we steeled ourselves to it and signed up.

4am in the morning we were sat outside waiting for our ride. It was dark and quite chilly. Once in the minibus we were served breakfast – small carton of juice and biscuit bar. Other people were collected and eventually we bounced off along some dirt tracks. Over an hour later we were on an area of green fields above the valleys. Balloons were everywhere. We arrived as ours was in the final stages of being inflated. Hot air comes from a powerful LPG burner mounted about the basket. Strong fans were also being used to drive air into the envelope. Around us, in the first light of dawn, we could see many other balloons inflating on the ground or already taking to the sky.

The basket was divided into eight compartments each holding four people. You jammed yourself in here quite snugly. Seemed like quite a good arrangement. Everyone could see in most directions and it was secure and comfortable. Then we just wafted into the sky. Just like that. No drama or noise, apart from the burner. In just a few minutes we felt part of the great wave of balloons drifting up in the ever-brightening sky. There is no wind when you are in a balloon. Because you drift with the air currents, at the same speed, there is no relative wind at all. Very comfortable and relaxed. Initially we gained height. The world was reduced to little ants running around. It felt very safe. The walls of the basket come up to chest level so there is no chance of falling out. In fact, as we found out later, getting out can be a bit of a challenge.

Then we descended. A wide valley full of fairy chimneys runs north from Göreme and many of the balloons drop right down into this. Crowds had gathered at the overlooking escarpment. We passed within a few metres of them as dropped into the valley. We skirted over bushes and almost touched the ground before climbing again at the far side. I noticed that balloons never collided and never seemed to get caught up on the fairy chimneys. I am guessing that something about the way air currents work helps with this. You cannot steer a balloon, just go up or down to find different airstreams. There seems to be quite a lot of skill involved and our pilot was doing just fine.

Past the valley we crossed into a more level area and then landed, very neatly and gently, in a field. The ground crew of four appeared with their Landrover and trailer within minutes. First job was to inflate the balloon just slightly so that the basket could be manhandled onto the trailer. Then then trailer, complete with basket and passengers was moved to a suitable location for deflating the balloon. Finally, with the balloon now laying across the ground, we were allowed to clamber out of the basket. We were given a glass of champagne, which was not champagne. We listened to a short speech that could have been précised as “please give us a tip”. The minibus took us back to the hotel where we enjoyed a buffet breakfast on the rooftop terrace. Then we went back to bed.

Early next morning we got a view from the hotel of the day’s balloons. Then we went on a day trip. Sometimes these are good but not necessarily. The main advantage for us is that we get round a bunch of interesting places without having to first find them out for ourselves. So, laziness really. First stop was an overlook of pigeon valley. Many small caves carved into the rock formations with the purpose of attracting pigeons. Pigeon guano was used as fertiliser. I imagine the odd bird found its way into a stew pot. The sight was embellished with the usual ways of getting money from tourists. Camel rides, small ponies, souvenir shops and so on. On to the jewellery making shop which was just an excuse to try and sell us jewellery. Fortunately, I am immune and was able to keep a close eye on Diane. Next stop was some carved caves that had been used as a cathedral. Extensive and quite magnificent. The soft stone, actually a compressed volcanic ash, lends itself to digging and carving but also erodes quickly. Preserving these sites can be quite difficult. Then came a walk down a canyon. This was very enjoyable and it made a pleasant change not to be just standing around.

Penultimate stop was an underground city. There are several of these in Cappadocia. They were started two thousand years ago for Christians to hide in and have been used and expanded ever since. Came in very handy when the Mongol hoards crossed from the steppes and many other times as well. Calling the place a city is possibly a bit of an exaggeration. The tunnels are extensive. Apparently 5,000 people could hide in here. They are all quite small and it seemed quite stuffy with just a hundred or so tourists in there. None the less, very impressive and interesting. Final stop was a sweet making shop where they were simply selling sweets and dishing out free samples. That was us done with Göreme. Next day we would go in search of swimming cats.

Ayvalik

The crossing to Türkiye was windy and choppy. It was only a small ferry and our poor bike, strapped onto the rear deck, got thoroughly drenched with sea water. Fortunately, the trip was only 90 minutes. We rode the bike off, parked by a locked gate and were directed into building to get our documentation checked. Everything went fine until the very last moment. I thought I had checked our vehicle insurance for Türkiye but in fact I had only checked the breakdown insurance. We had no insurance and the authorities were not going to let us take the bike until we could prove otherwise. Now usually, on this sort of border, getting vehicle insurance is not a problem. Often there are several insurance offices lined up by the border just desperate to sell you something. On this occasion we had arrived by a rather obscure route, just a handful of vehicles each week and to exacerbate the issue it was labour day, May 1^st, a public holiday.

We walked over to the ferry office and attempted to sort something out. They were very helpful and soon had someone on the phone for us. He explained that it was not possible to buy insurance in Türkiye for a foreign vehicle and that I needed to contact my insurers in the UK. There then followed a surreal conversation with Carol Nash, who insure my bike. First of all, they understood that I was trying to insure an additional bike called a Türkiye . This got escalated to a supervisor who realised that Türkiye was a country but explained that I was covered for the whole of Europe. Up to the next supervisor who recoiled in horror over the notion that I wanted to ride my bike outside of Europe. Why would you do that? Finally, after a long time on hold, I was told that it was quite impossible. Half an hour later, while I was busy trawling the internet for something useful, the ferry office man came back with another phone call. This one worked. Several email exchanges and a trip to an ATM later and we had the necessary document. Eventually collected the bike late afternoon but whatever, we were in, all sorted and legal. We stayed at a local hotel and then picked up the planned trip a day later.

First stop was Kuşadası, a delightful small town packed with tourist shops. We aimed to get there on the main road but got turned around by the police. Some incident had blocked the road. We took to smaller roads and picked a route out through some hills to the north. The proved to be a pleasant ride and probably much more fun. We took an extra day at Kuşadası so that we could visit the Ephesus Archaeological Site. This is the massive, excavated remains of a of a temple, theatre and library in an ancient city taken over by Romans in 129 BC. Although clearly battered by 2,000 years of neglect this place is still impressive. In particular, you can get a sense of what life might have been like for the Romans. The rich Romans obviously. The slaves and servants probably had a horrible time of it. The weather was boiling hot and the crowds fearsome but we eventually managed to get round the whole site and even read some of the noticeboards. If you are into Roman ruins then this place should be on your list. The entrance area to the site is a covered roadway lined by tourist shops. Any kind of replica watch, jewellery, handbag or other accessory at a bargain price.

Back at our hotel the very nice owner invited us to a family barbeque in the evening. I am not at all keen on either meat and children but fortunately Diane is much more polite that me and she stepped in to explain that we were vegetarian. The owner replied that surely her husband was not one. He did not look like a vegetarian. What does that mean? I think he is saying I am fat. And they would be serving salad. Oh joy, the stench of burning meat, the screams of crying children and a bit of lettuce leaf. I attempted to maintain a fixed smile on my face. One that had nothing to do with what was going on inside my head. I nodded in what I hoped was a polite way and we left.

Next day we continued along the coast road as best we could. In places there was not a road near the sea. Even so we managed enough road with bright blue ocean immediately to our right to keep Diane happy. The riding was great. Perfect weather. Sunny but not too hot. Quiet roads that twisted and looped through hidden coves and over small hills. The Rhapsody hotel at Kalkan was all but deserted. It is still early in the season. We’d had a long day. We were quite happy to eat by the pool as the sun set. Then Gillian and Reynaldo turned up. A lovely couple that had a holiday home nearby. We had a pleasant chat with them and picked up some nuggets of interesting local knowledge.

More coastal roads brought us to Antalya, popular amongst British tourists. We kept moving and ended up at a serious holiday hotel an hour or so later. This was an all-inclusive establishment in a gated compound with its own restricted beach area. I’d chosen it as being good value for money. Which it was. Drinks and half board for around £80. On arrival we were tagged with wristbands. The room was lovely. Overlooking swimming pools and the beach. Food was served buffet style with an excellent range of food to choose from. Wine was either red or white and the cocktails were rubbish. Overall, the stay was good fun although we did feel a bit out of place.

In the morning, we had a sobering start when, not five minutes after leaving the hotel, we came across two bodies. They were clearly very dead and had been laid out by the roadside. Not covered. Looked to be a couple in their early twenties. No helmets, dressed for the beach. The police were in attendance and thirty metres down the road was a flipped over ATV. A few other vehicles were parked up and a small crowd was standing well back. We did not see what happened but I am sure the gist of it would include inexperience, exuberant driving and excessive speed. Very sad. We have seen a lot of people on rented ATVs since then and I can’t help thinking how dangerous they are without a bit of training.

Our costal odyssey continued in much the same way as the previous days. The roads became quieter and we eventually arrived at the Kupala beach hotel. Tiny little village at the end of a beach where we were absolutely the only people staying at the hotel. There is something strange and a little disconcerting about staying in an otherwise empty hotel. It was being run by three blokes – none of whom seemed the hotel manager type. We sorted out the check-in and even organised food but they discussed everything amongst themselves, apparently in great detail. Like they were not sure what they were supposed to be doing. I am sure there is a story here. Definitely something a little bit weird. Nothing bad happened. We ate well. No idea where the food came from but it arrived in bags brought by runners. We turned in early ready to leave the coast and start inland.

Lesbos

As we drove off the ferry in Lesbos, I noticed the rear tyre was low. We stopped at the first safe place. This happened to still be inside the port complex and we were accosted by a very ordinary couple wielding ID cards and claiming to be customs officials. So, instead of sorting out the tyre, the first thing we had to do was produce documents and answer some odd questions. They did not like that the V5 is not proof of ownership. Finally, they told us very sternly that we could only keep the bike in Greece for six months. I tried to reply, equally firmly, that we were leaving in two days. Back to the bike. I put some air in the tyre and we wandered into town to find someone to fix it. I do carry everything I need to sort out a nail in the tyre like this, but I have never actually done it. We stumbled across a moto shop after just a few minutes and they very obligingly sorted the tyre with a plug in ever fewer minutes. How long does a plug last? It may be that I will be able to tell you shortly.

Leaving the main road, we struck for the east coast and a delightful short ride to Mythymna and the Seahorse Hotel right in the top right-hand corner of Lesbos. Scenic, winding road with almost no traffic. Hard to beat. The tyre was still full of air when we arrived. I found this very pleasing. I also found the hotel very pleasing. Nice comfy room with balcony. Very friendly host. Restaurant tables on the quayside. Mostly this was lovely, but occasionally you needed to move your table to let a car past. We dumped the heavy bike gear in our room. It is essential for protection but is horribly sweaty and cumbersome at times. Feeling much lighter, we skipped off up the hill to a castle overlooking the town. It was closed. We contented ourselves with walking right the way around it and then drank wine while overlooking the bay.

We elected to stay at the Seahorse another night. This gave us a day to explore the island. We had great fun but forgot the camera so there are no pictures. Imagine quiet, bendy roads. The odd sleepy village where the dogs come out to bark at you. Hills, olive groves, donkeys and goats. We drove to the southern shore. Admired the sea views. Had a coffee and came back over the biggest mountain on the island. Along the way we found ourselves on a dirt track. Not ideal with road tyres but fortunately it was dry and not too rough. My very mediocre off-road skills sufficed, the plug stayed in the tyre and we found a lovely place for coffee not long after regaining the asphalt. In the evening, we had great food and cheap red local wine at our quayside table. Days like this are good.

Next day was also good. We made our way back to Mitilini in preparation for the morning ferry next day. Spent a while wandering around the town and worked out exactly where to go for the ferry. It is not that simple. You need to park by a gate, walk round the other side of the building, do document checks, get your tickets, walk into a yard where, on presenting your tickets, they will open the gate and allow you to drive to the ship. This was all explained to us by a very friendly official and saved a lot of wandering around the next morning. We ended the day in a lovely restaurant. Very basic and only two dishes on the menu. I went over the road to get glasses of wine. Great food and then we got to the paying bit. The restaurant is run to support a charily for refugees. You pay as much as you feel the meal was worth. Lovely idea we thought. And the restaurant seemed to be very popular.

Next day we knew what to do. The other, less well rehearsed, motorcyclists were milling around uncertainly by the locked gate. They followed us as we marched off confidently with our documents. Not long after that we were installed on the little ferry all ready for the short crossing to Turkey.

Athens

Usually on a ferry, you are woken by a rude tannoy announcement to the effect of “get up and go have breakfast”. The first we heard on the Grimaldi ferry to Igoumenitsa was an announcement telling us to vacate the cabin in ten minutes. Sure enough, ten minutes later came a knock on the door. Fortunately, we had risen earlier and were ready for it. Even so we left the ferry without breakfast or even a coffee. It was Easter Monday. I was a bit concerned that we might struggle to find a place for an early morning break. Not a problem. There were many. So less than half an hour after disembarking we were sitting in a lovely café with sea views, coffee and wonderful slice of filo pastry with spinach. Most excellent breakfast.

We were heading for Patra. There is a motorway and there is the coast road. We chose to follow the coast. It was lovely. Quiet winding roads, sea views and plenty of coffee stops. We needed them. It had been a bit of short night’s sleep on the ferry. The weather was perfect. Warm and sunny. So, we took our time, had plenty of breaks and eventually arrived at Patra in the late afternoon. Our hotel had a rooftop bar which was just wonderful. We sat up there ordering some great food, drinking wine and watching the sunset. First day in Greece was good.

Next day was the run into Athens. Not really any alternatives to the motorway for this but should only have taken a couple of hours. Actually, took over five hours. The traffic was terrible. Long, long sections where we were filtering though nearly stationary vehicles. The trip in a car would probably have taken twice as long. Driving in Athens is a bit up close and personal but after Peru, where driving is a contact sport, this did not seem too bad. Drivers are generally quite courteous and aware when it comes to motorbikes. There are a lot of motorbikes and bigger scooters in Athens. Very few cyclists and a fair number of small scooters.

We took a city tour and started off by watching the changing of the guard outside the Parliament building. Imagine two blokes, big lads, each wearing a short skirt, white woollen tights, a tassel at each knee and shoes with large a pom-pom. They move using exaggerated arm and leg movements that could have come directly from the Ministry of Silly Walks. You might be tempted to titter but these guys are deadly serious. They are members of a special unit of the Hellenic Army known as the Evzones and could kill you with their little finger. Take a good look at their steely expressions and intense stares. These are not people to be messed with. You need to pass a rigorous selection process and difficult training to be part of this elite unit.

We moved on to check out the Olympic Stadium, home of the first modern Olympic Games. Then it was up to the Acropolis also known as the Sacred Rock. This is the location of several temples including the magnificent Parthenon. The weather was warm and sunny, in complete defiance of the forecast. We enjoyed pottering around and taking in the views across the city. Then we dropped down into an area called Plaka. This is an interesting jumble of small houses, narrow cobblestone streets, stores selling all imaginable types of souvenirs and tavernas hustling for business. We ended the day with a glass of wine at a rooftop bar with view across the rooftops to the Acropolis.

Next day we went on a trip with motorbike and sidecar. Done this in a few cities now and it is a great way to get around. Our driver, Dimitris, was clearly skilled and familiar with Athenian traffic. Many areas inaccessible to cars are open to motorbikes. We took on cobbled streets, pedestrian areas and the steep road up to Mount Lycabettus. This is the highest hill in Athens and affords some terrific views. Coming back down we passed through Kolonaki, the area where the rich people live. It oozes wealth. Flashy cars, grandiose houses and perfectly kept gardens.

Our original plan for Greece involved some island hopping which would eventually land us in Turkey. This proved to be remarkably difficult. There are plenty of islands and even more ferries but not so many that we could take the motorbike on. Actually getting to Turkey this way was very limited. Our best bet was to get an overnight ferry to Lesbos and from there it was just a short hop to Ayvalik in Turkey. Mt first attempt to book this ended up me in a shared cabin and Diane with a chair on deck. Princess was not happy about this. We eventually got sorted with a cabin to ourselves and then got told that the ferry to Turkey could not take the bike. This took a lot of persistence to resolve. I think it might have been easier to go to the ferry company directly rather than using FerryHoppers. Their website was pretty good but seemed to fail at the final delivery.

We had a ferry booked in the evening from Pieraus, the port area just outside Athens. So we rode south for a while to see the Temple of Poseidon. This is perched prominently on top of the cliffs at Cape Sounion. The temple is quite impressive and we paid €20 each for the short walk up the hill. Photos done we grabbed a coffee and then headed for the port. It took up two laps around the port area until we eventually went down a road marked “trucks only” and found our ship. By six we were comfortably installed in our cabin. The ship sailed at 8pm while we sat out on deck and watched Athens recede into the distance. I usually sleep quiet well on ships. A long time ago I used to work on smaller survey vessels and I find the rocking motion really quite soothing. So, I was a bit perplexed next morning, after a great night’s sleep, to find Diane scowling at me. Apparently, there was a bit of a storm in the night and she hardly slept a wink. According to princess logic this was now my fault. I pacified her, a little, with coffee and a croissant before we disembarked onto the island of Lesbos.

Italy

After a night and a day on the ferry we arrived at Civitavecchia in Italy. It was generally a pleasant crossing despite the best efforts of the disaffected youths running along the corridors in the early hours. Disembarking was the usual semi-organised chaos with every single vehicle trying to be first off the ship. Handling a big bike with a pillion can be a bit worrying on a ship. The painted decks often have patches of water and oil that makes the surface very slippery. With care, we managed to avoid dropping the bike or getting hit by an enthusiastic driver. From the port it was just a short hop up the road to our B&B for the night. I copied the geodetic coordinates from the booking.com app into the Garmin satnav on the bike. This usually works well and gives us an accurate destination without having to worry about the vagaries of postcodes and addresses. In this instance it took us to completely the wrong house. The man looked puzzled when Diane asked if we could stay there the night. After a bit of handwaving in lieu of understanding each other’s language, he leapt into his van and told us to follow. A mile or so down the road we arrived at the correct house. Some people are remarkably kind and helpful at times. Thank you Italian man. We never even got his name.

Next day saw us heading almost directly east an up into the mountains. We arrived, accurately this time, at a tiny B&B in a lovely old house close to L’Aquila. Evening meals are sometimes a bit of a problem. If there is no restaurant close to where we are staying then we often end up nipping out on the bike to buy bread and cheese for dinner. This time, for the first time in several days, there was a wonderful pizza restaurant some 20 minutes walk down the road. Admittedly, pizza is just bread and cheese in another form but this one was hot and very tasty.

In the morning, we headed further into the mountains and discovered snow. Quite a lot of snow. This was fun for a while until we also discovered that our road was closed. It was cold as well, just 5°C and the wind was carrying a light drizzle. On an organised motorbike tour the general rule is to fill up with fuel just before you arrive at the hotel for the night. This way, you have a full tank for the next days ride. We had neglected this and now had the prospect of wandering around the mountains trying to find a way east with only enough petrol for a limited distance. Diane had a small sense of humour failure while I attempted to work out an alternative route. Fortunately, we dropped down into the next valley system and found a small, self-service pump along with a local cheese shop where we could warm up with coffee and a sandwich. We also bought some cheese and then carried on down to the coast where it was warm and sunny again. Our accommodation for the night was a delightful wooden house overlooking the bay. The access track was badly washed out and required a few off-road skills. It all worked out and we enjoyed dinner, bread, cheese and wine, outside watching the sunset.

We followed the coast road out to Vieste. It was a delight. Perfect sunny weather and great ocean views. The road was tight and twisty. A fun challenge that left my shoulders aching. Our room in the Bikini Hotel had an interesting view. No bikinis but there was a spectacular chalk stack jutting out of the sea in front of bright white cliffs. In the evening, we wandered around the old part of town before finding a comfortable restaurant with outdoor seating. Shortly after sitting down an Easter procession came along the road. Many religious types dressed in white robes carrying a cross, a dead Jesus and a Mary. The centred around a man with a loudspeaker on a pole chanting “Ave Maria”. Later, we could hear them all singing in the church.

The road along the south side of the peninsular was equally challenging with the added interest of Easter Saturday traffic. This included a lot of motorbikes some of which were being thrown around the road in quite alarming ways. Back on the main road, we continued south down the coast to Brindisi. Our accommodation was on the far side of the bay from the old town. We walked all the way round and found a remarkably busy restaurant scene packed with Saturday night diners. On the third attempt and after waiting 20 minutes, we got a table with an excellent meal and some particularly good local wine. Puglia is famous for wines.

Next day, we discovered that we could have taken a small ferry across the bay instead of walking all the way round. We were getting a ferry to Greece in the evening so at lunchtime we wandered down to the quayside. Easter Sunday. Not a good day for touristing in Italy because everything is closed. Including the little ferry. In fact, the only place we found open was the coffee shop attached to a filling station. We lingered there for a while drinking coffee and wondering where everyone else had gone. The whole town seemed deserted.

We went down to the ferry terminal early and drank more coffee. Boarding began at 9pm. Not long afterwards we had found our cabin and were sat on deck with a bottle of wine. The ship was docked directly across from the end of the airport runway. In the dark, it was an impressive display of lights. We enjoyed the spectacle of aircraft taking off and landing right in the dark for a while before heading to bed. The ship would dock in Greece at 7:30am but it would feel like an hour earlier because of a time zone change.

Spain

Arriving back in the UK can feel a bit like wading into a swamp. It is wet and cold and difficult to get things done. At every turn you seem to sink a little further in. Working through bureaucracy and chores is tedious and boring. On the first day back, the engine light in our beautiful Range Rover came on. This turned out to be a serious engine problem, the timing chain was stretched. The engine was removed and some substantial fettling took place. Not only were the timing chain and guides replaced but also three injectors and most of the valves. A trapped cooling hose was replaced and several other faults rectified. Finding a garage up to the job and booking the car in took a couple of weeks. The actual repair work took another three. So, for most of our time back in the UK we were driving a hire car. The Landrover garage, A1 Landrovers in Bury, did a particularly good job and the car is driving beautifully now.

For our next trip we are planning to ride to Turkey on our bike. First it needed a full service. This should have taken a day. It also needed a new rear tyre, chain and sprockets. Two or even three days even if they needed to wait for parts. I have used Craig’s Motorcycles in Dewsbury before but probably will not again. It took them over three weeks. What was worse, in my mind, was that they started making up stories about the delays. It does not take a week to get a replacement hose clip. I would have been happier if they had at least been honest with me. Eventually, I had to drive over there and have, what would be described in diplomatic circles as a frank discussion. The bike appeared a few days later. This messed with our schedule. You cannot just jump onto a fully loaded bike with pillion and set off down the road. I had not ridden for over nine months and needed a bit of time to practise and get familiar with the bike again.

Meanwhile we had the usual round of doctors, dentists, opticians and so on. I saw a consultant dermatologist about the rash on my legs. We now have a diagnosis and some cream that appears to be keeping it under control. This is a great result. I also saw a physiotherapist about my neck which had been stiff and sore for several months. Several rather bruising sessions later it is feeling much better and, if I keep doing the exercises, will improve over time. Diane got some new spectacles which she doesn’t like and also arranged some major teeth work for later in the year.

We mostly stayed with my baby sister, Helen, in Todmorden. Her husband, David, is in the latter stages of MND. A particularly cruel degenerative condition that means he has been unable to move at all for a couple of years now. Obviously, the whole household is organised around David’s needs so living there can be a bit fraught. There is a constant progression of carers, other medical professionals, friends and family. We tried to help out where we could but occasionally needed to have a night away on our own.

We keep our belongings in a storage unit. To be honest there is not much. Some kitchen gear, skiing gear, motorcycle gear, two portable fridges and a few cloths. All stacked in boxes apart from the fridges. We would like to get rid of these but, so far, have been unable to sell them. Every time we come back, we end up spending hours organising the stuff in the storage unit. Similarly, whenever we leave we need to pack for the trip and pack everything else into the unit. Occasionally feels like we spend a lot of time packing and unpacking.

There was a mini heatwave. An unprecedented three days of sunshine in Todmorden. We had been doing our best to get organised and, at last, were about ready to drag ourselves out of the swamp. Everything packed we said our goodbyes and set off. Still feeling a bit wobbly on the bike. We took our time and visited a couple of friends as we headed south. Our overall plan is to visit Turkey. To avoid central Europe, which is cold at the moment, we are going to sail to Spain and then catch several ferries across the mediterranean. First step was the Plymouth-Bilbao ferry. Or at least we thought it was. Arriving in Plymouth we discovered a suspiciously deserted dockyard. Closer inspection of the tickets revealed that we should really be in Portsmouth. This was a bit awkward. Best option was to ride to Portsmouth. There might be enough time.

Three and a half hours of flat-out riding. We did not break any rules but I did use everything I had ever learnt about making progress. There were some excellent overtakes, brilliant use of lanes and even some filtering. The single fuel stop was a well-executed splash and dash. Diane was paying for the fuel as I replaced the filler nozzle. Working against us was the time of day. Many people coming home from work. Also, roadworks. There seemed to be temporary traffic lights everywhere. Finally, the motorway to Portsmouth was solid roadworks with speed limits as low as 40mph even on a three-lane carriageway. We were fifteen minutes late. I felt it was a heroic effort. We had been fast while staying safe and were ultimately thwarted by traffic and road repairs.

An hour later, we had booked the next ferry, found accommodation and were sat in a pub with food and drink. Next day we explored Portsmouth. We walked along the sea front. Walked out onto the south pier. Walked back and collected the bike. We could only park it at the hotel until 3pm so we headed round to the dock. Then we waited half an hour for check-in to open and hoped we could get on the ship early. No chance. Once checked in we had to wait three hours for security to open. Then a bit longer to start boarding. We finally got to our small cabin about 9pm, not long before the ferry was scheduled to sail.

The crossing was uneventful. Two nights on board and docking at 7am. We were happy that we had made it to Spain but we were a day late. Instead of three leisurely days through the foothills of the Pyrenees to Barcelona we had just two days to make the next ferry. In the event, this proved to be not much of a problem. We skipped the mountain roads I had planned and used more motorways. These are not like the baren, boring three-lane motorways in the UK where the most interesting part is watching BMWs undertaking the lane hogs in the fast lane. Instead, we had wide open smooth tarmac sweeping through the mountains with barely another vehicle in sight. The morning was cold and wet. Another reason to be happy about avoiding the high mountain roads where snow might still be possible. In the afternoon the sky cleared and the sun came out.

Half way stop was near Jaca in a lovely little village where all the restaurants were closed. We sat outside and ate bread with cheese and some local wine. Still one of my favourite meals. Next day was an easy ride to Barcelona. Again, we arrived a bit early for the ferry but this time was a very different story. It was only a short time before we were allowed onboard. We were settled into our much larger cabin and had eaten dinner even before the ship had sailed. . Next stop, Italy.

Supay Cano

Guess what time we got up in the morning? Unfortunately, despite the ridiculously early start, we did not see so much on this particular morning. The one exception was a small flock of night hawks. Half a dozen of these pretty birds were sitting on a branch. Until we arrived, then they flew off.

Back on the ship I wandered round taking a few pictures of the interior. The air-conditioned cabin was our haven. Spacious and cool with a terrific picture window. After each excursion we would arrive back at the room hot and sweaty. After a shower and, occasionally, a nap, we would be cool and clean and ready for the next episode. The ship was built locally and, for the most part, used local materials. The whole of the inside of the boat is done in some lovely wood. Not sure quite what type of timber but presumably a tropical hardwood. Looked terrific and gave the décor a great feel. The bar was on the open top deck. From here we could watch the river roll past while sipping Pisco Sour cocktails. On the same deck was a lecture room where we had talks about the Amazon and the occasional film. On the deck below was the restaurant. Food was very good on this trip and we felt the chef had really tried hard to provide for vegetarians.

In the afternoon we visited a village. Here they demonstrated making straw goods. We were shown how they prepared the fibres and coloured them with various natural dyes. We also had a bit of a cooking demonstration. Mostly they eat fish from the river. Different sorts of fish are cooked in different ways all of which smell awful to me. Deep fried yuca with a yellow tomato sauce was very nice though. Yellow tomato is not, as it sounds, a tomato that happens to be yellow. It is a whole separate species that looks a little like a yellow version of the familiar red fruit but tastes very different. Sharp, intense and flavoursome. Just chop finely into a bowl to make and instant tasty dip. Later, the ship moved closer to Iquitos. Here we spent the night ready for a quick getaway in the morning.

Next morning there was time for breakfast before we disembarked and headed for the airport. On the way we visited an animal sanctuary. There were some interesting beasts here that we had not seen in the wild. First up were the Paiche. Gigantic fish, up to 3 m long, that swim around in the Amazon. These were almost certainly around in many of the places we visited but were lurking, hidden in the murky waters. Here they were in an enormous, glass walled tank where we could see them very clearly. Paiche are vulnerable to overfishing and a 2014 study found that the fish were depleted or overexploited at 93% of the sites examined. Despite these issues, Paiche had still been served several times on our ship.

The sanctuary served as a general home for unwanted or rescued creatures. There were many sorts of parrot, a sloth, turtles and caimans. I had to look this up, but the plural of caiman is caimans and not caimen. This seems a shame. Several big tanks held young manatees. These lovely “sea cows” are peaceful herbivores that graze the river vegetation. They are another endangered species and again their primary threats are from humans. Often, they are hunted and a large number of manatees get injured or killed from boat strikes. Habitat loss is another problem.

Sanctuary done we went to see a stingless bee project. Bees without stings seem like a good idea to me. They can also be used to provide essential vitamins and minerals for local children.

Amazon done. From Iquitos we back to Lima for the sixth and final time. Night in the airport hotel. Not especially great but eminently practical. Next morning we flew to Bogota. This was not because we especially wanted to visit Bogota but more to split up the trip back. I worked out that Bogota to Madrid was about the shortest cross Atlantic flight. Bogota turned out to be a perfectly nice city with an awful lot of graffiti. The weather was warm and the people friendly. We wandered around on a couple of days and took a cable car to where we could overlook the whole city. All eight million people. Bogota is one of the world’s largest cities. Remarkable to see so many people in one place.

Next stop was Madrid. A lovely city that I visited 30 years ago. We only had a couple of days here but it was nice to explore the old city and experience a little of the night life.

Then we flew to Paris. This is city is quite familiar to us. Bit manic but great fun. We checked out the restoration work at Notre-Dame on the way to a candlelit piano recital at St. Ephrem Church. Next afternoon we had booked a guided wine tasting. Sadly, this did not work out so we simply went out and tasted a few wines by ourselves.

Final leg back to the UK was the Eurostar train to London St. Pancras. This was quite a pleasant way to travel and a lot less hassle than flying. Quite expensive though. In London we only just made our connection to intercity train north. Back in the day they would have served wine and snacks but this time a cup of coffee was as far as it went. We detrained at Mirfield for the very last train leg back to Todmorden. The platform signage was all messed up and we ended up waiting over an hour for our connection on the small, deserted platform. It was dark and cold. Rain was in the air. Welcome back to the UK.

Pacaya River

It was becoming a conditioned reflex. 6am alarm, crawl out of bed, contact lenses, clothes, camera, Diane, hat, sit in boat. Sometime later my brain would catch up and, with a jolt, I would be awake on a small boat in the headwaters of the Amazon. The early morning cacophony was often amazing. The sounds of birds and animals calling, invisibly, from deep in the forest. Occasionally, there were strange noises that I had no idea at all what sort of a creature it might have come from. The drone of the boat engine was an almost comfortably familiar background.

We were traveling up the Pacaya River deep inside the Pacaya Natural Reserve. There are several areas of reserves at the top of the Amazon basin. Their purpose is to protect the natural flora and fauna. Access is restricted, as is hunting and fishing. An education program has been established to help the locals understand why this is necessary. For generations they have hunted in this or that area. Now, at the behest of anonymous officials, they are no longer allowed. You can imagine, this is going to take a lot of explaining. Here we have a group of people that have lived in harmony with their environment for thousands of years. They have done nothing to cause the world’s great problems of climate change and pollution. Nonetheless, those who have caused the problem now require the locals to change their lifestyle. It is not quite this simple, but you get the idea. It is a problem repeated in many places worldwide.

Snapping out of my reverie, I spotted some terns on a sloping log. They were evenly spaced and mostly looking the same way. A very pleasing arrangement. It appealed to my sense of how things should be. There were also a few vultures and cormorants but they were just randomly hanging around looking untidy. Although nominally following the river, we cut across two large lakes. These were not obviously lakes because they were covered with a thick layer of vegetation. A great mass of leaves and flowers. The skiff slipped through this quite easily and we could follow various open water channels. On a lone tree I spotted an owl. It watched us, without comment, as we passed.

There were many egrets here. We had seen a few on previous days but the lakeside was obviously their place. Hundreds of them. Some flying but most perched in trees and bushes. Also, we saw turtles. Mostly yellow headed turtles. Young ones sunning themselves on logs by the side of the river. If we got too close they would quietly slip off their log and vanish into the water.

The linked lakes here gave rise to quite a different environment to the small channels. Much more open. We saw some brown monkeys that defied identification and a black one that was probably a Saki monkey.

Heading back to the ship, I managed to photograph a dolphin. It was a grey river dolphin. Not as exotic as a pink dolphin but a dolphin nonetheless. A fine addition to my large collection of pictures of ripples on the river where a dolphin has just dived.

After lunch we moved back downriver so as to take the skiffs up the Zapote River (I think). Here there were many types of birds. Egrets were still in abundance along with kingfishers, wood peckers, parrots and toucans. Diane and the rest of the boat tried their hand at fishing. I wanted nothing to do with it. Fortunately, she did not catch anything. Something, probably piranhas, nibbled all the meat off her hook. Twice. Sometimes it is best to keep your hands out of the water while fishing.

Yarapa

Another 6am and we were up a creek without a name. Well, I am sure it has a name but it is not marked on my map so I have no idea. The creek was small, meandering and choked with weeds. We spotted a nose looking at us from a hole in a tree trunk. Probably a Nutria (coypu) a type of Amazonian rat. He watched us carefully as we drifted past but showed no sign of coming out. There was a brightly coloured tanager bird and then, at the base of the tree, some proboscis bats. This time we got close enough to see detail. Although only a couple of centimetres long, they are cute and furry. And they do have big noses. All bats are covered in fur, except for Batman. He wears a bat suit, to look bat like, but it has no fur.

We passed some kingfishers and a heron then someone spotted a monkey. Turned out to be a tamarin monkey although it looked to me like a stuffed cat hanging in the tree. There were some colourful aracari birds and sleeping sloth. The sloth was just a big ball of fur in the top of a tree. It never moved in all the time we watched it. At the end of the navigable part of the creek we saw some black-headed night monkeys. They were huddled together in a large tree hole. Each monkey was about the size of a squirrel. They peered out at us nervously. Amongst monkeys, these are the only truly nocturnal species. They are also particularly susceptible to malaria. Apparently, the presence of night monkeys is a good indicator that there is no malaria around. Still plenty of mosquitoes though and we had both applied a good layer of chemical warfare before we came out.

On the way back to the ship, we passed a fisherman who showed off the armoured catfish he had caught. These are not good eating. The locals occasionally make a soup. We saw some soup the following day and everyone thought it looked horribly unappetising. Quite possibly he threw it back into the river after we had passed.

After the first shower of the day and breakfast we went out for a hike. This was in a cultivated area with many fruit trees, yucca and banana trees. Bananas are not really trees. They are in fact, herbs, and the fruit are berries. There were also grapefruit trees. Not so remarkable but I had never seen one before. The real reason we were here was a troop of Pygmy Marmosets. Tiniest of all monkeys and a native of the rainforests of the upper Amazon basin. They are remarkably cute but also very shy. They feed on the gum from trees. With sharp little teeth, they bite a hole in the bark. The gum pools in the hole from where they lap it up. After half an hour of trying to photograph the little blighters, I had a collection of pictures of part of a marmoset. The rest of the photograph being the tree, branch or leaves that it was hiding behind. We were not allowed to shake them out of the tree and pin them to the ground to get a good photograph – so this was going to have to do.

Early afternoon the ship moved quite a way upriver and in the evening, we went out in the skiffs to hunt caimans. The plural of caiman is not caimen. We drove out past a small settlement and were greeted by a small girl. She was showing off the piranha fish she had caught. These are not so dangerous as the films project. Unless you are bleeding, they are unlikely to attack. Even so, it is a special sort of young girl that handles one like a toy.

Into the small channel and the first things we saw were several types of monkeys. Again, photography was difficult. For a start there is not much light. It was early evening but even during the day, the thick canopy is remarkably effective at blocking the sun. The birds and animals tend to stay in the distance. Using a long lens, in low light from a small boat is not a good recipe for success. A while ago, I invested in a Canon 500mm f4 lens. This is a bit of a beast and heavy. An hour spent hoisting it around can get to feel like an upper body workout. Fortunately, it handles the conditions quite well. Even so, I often found that the light so low that I had to turn the camera sensitivity right up. This makes the images very grainy. Our guides were very good at identifying all creatures we saw but I could not remember all the names. I have resorted to Google so quite possibly some of the names of birds and animals are wrong.

Dark fell and our guide produced a powerful spotlight. Apparently, the way to hunt caimans is by looking for the light reflecting from their eyes. Like cat’s eyes, they appear to shine in the dark. Round a corner in a particularly weed clogged channel we came across several. Bright eyes on a small face lurking motionless in the water. We all looked at each other for a few minutes and the headed back to the ship for dinner.

Yanayacu

The sun rose to find us bobbing around on the main river on our pre-breakfast skiff ride. Early in the morning is as cool as it gets and the mosquitoes are not too bad. Evening is the mosquito happy hour when you really need to cover up. Except in some places, deep in the forest which appear to be thick with mosquitoes any time of the day. Our morning ritual, before breakfast, now included mosquito repellent and sunscreen. Out on the river, the trick is to keep moving. Stay in one place too long and the little biters will arrive. Keep moving, every few minutes and everything is fine.

We met a raft drifting down the river. Three guys on a home-made construction of logs tied together. They were on their way to Iquitos. Tied at the front of the raft was a large net full of catfish that they had caught. A small motor on the back was to stop them drifting into a bank. After several days drifting down the river with their catch, they would be able to sell the fish and sell the wood they built the raft from. Then they would take their net and other possessions, head back upriver on the ferry, and start again. For now, they were sitting on the raft watching the world drift by.

After breakfast, we were back in the skiffs and heading up a small creek. First thing we saw was an iguana. This was a green iguana, amazonian cousin to all the iguanas we saw in the Galapagos. Further on we spotted some tree houses. Apparently, these are available for rent. This looked wholesome fun. A room high in the treetops. For me, however, on balance, I’ll stick with the air-conditioned cabin. Next, we saw some brown titi monkeys. This is not what our guide called them. Unfortunately, I cannot recall what he said so I used Google. This is what Google calls them.

There was a group of Kiskadee nests hanging from a tree and a sloth doing some sort of slow, strange early morning sloth exercises. Our guide shouted to stop the boat and back up. There was an anteater. This surprised me on two counts. First, I never expected an anteater to be up a tree. Secondly, I could not see it. Eventually, I took several photos in the indicated direction and then zoomed into them on the camera screen. Sure enough, there was an anteater, up a tree, in a dark corner. It looked to be asleep. How our guide spotted it is beyond me. Amazing. On the way back we saw a classic green parakeet and some more proboscis bats. These look like so many little scabs on a tree trunk until you get really close to them.

In the afternoon, we went to visit a village. First, we went to a pond with giant lily pads on it. Victoria Amazonica can grow leaves up 3 m in diameter. This impressed me and also brought back a memory. I had seen this sort of lily before. After pondering where I might have encountered a bit of Amazonian jungle previously, I recalled looking at giant lilies with my mother. This was many years ago at Chatsworth House, a historic stately home in the Peak District. The lilies date back to Victorian times when people cared little about invasive species but were very keen on impressing their nobility friends with the exotic plants they could grow.

In the village came the inevitable presentation of craft goods which we looked at politely. We also looked at a partially built canoe, sugar cane press made from a tree trunk and some macaws. Very brightly coloured birds which, we were assured, were not pets but simply chose to hang out round the village. We also found an annatto tree. Locals use the bright red colour from the seeds of this tree to paint themselves so that they will look fierce. As well as a strong colour, the seeds also have a slightly nutty taste. This is why they are used, in the UK, as the colouring agent in Red Leicester cheese.

Pahuachiro

Up at dawn again for another short boat trip before breakfast. This time we visited the Pahuachiro Creek. The water here is very dark, a result of tannins from the vegetation along the bank. It is the start of the rainy season. This close to the equator it is hot and humid all the time. There are only really two seasons: wet and dry. At the peak of the wet season much of the forest is flooded. We could clearly see the high-water mark on the trees. A good two or three metres above the current level. This makes the jungle almost impenetrable. With a small canoe you can travel a short distance from the river course but it is slow and difficult.

The water in the main river is a chocolate brown colour because of all the silt it is carrying. Where the black water from the creek meets the main river the two types of water do not mix immediately but swirl around each other in intricate patterns. This is the place for the river dolphins. They hunt fish that have been confused in the merging currents. The dolphins use their echo location to hide in the murky, silt laden water and then dart out to catch the hapless fish. The Amazon River Dolphins are pink and have a bulbous head that is part of their echo location system. Slightly smaller are the Tucuxi dolphins which are grey and look a little like Bottlenose Dolphins. We saw both types but they are very hard to photograph. You need some sort of precognition to guess where they are going to pop up next.

After breakfast, we went for a walk. Every time we walked in the jungle, we were warned not to casually touch things, not to lean on the trees and to be careful where we placed our hands and feet. This is seriously important advice. Shortly after setting off, we were shown a judgement tree. This is a tree that has become infested by fire ants. The trunk is riddled with holes and few ants can be seen running around. However, if you bang the tree then loads of ants come out. Traditionally, bad people would be stripped and tied to the tree. The village shaman would then hit the tree with a big stick. This “judgement” could be fatal. Shortly after pondering this lethal tree I came across a fuzzy blob on another tree trunk. This turned out to be a mass of caterpillars. What I didn’t realise at the time is that these can be equally fatal. The caterpillars of the Lonomia obliqua moth possess a uniquely potent anticoagulant venom. Wikipedia says “A typical envenomation incident involves a person unknowingly leaning against, placing their hand on, or rubbing their arm against a group of these caterpillars that are gathered on the trunk of a tree. The effects of a dose from multiple caterpillars can be dramatic and severe, including massive internal hemorrhaging, kidney failure, and hemolysis. The resulting medical syndrome is sometimes called lonomiasis. Death may result, either rapidly or after many days following envenomation”.

At the end of the walk, we spotted a sloth. In typically sloth fashion it was hanging from a tree looked like an abandoned bag of wet fur. Photographing sloths requires patience. They do not move very much and it sometimes hard to determine where the sloth ends and the tree begins. Eventually this one did move and not only did I managed to get a picture of its face but I could also spot that it was carrying a baby.

After lunch, while we were all snoozing, the boat moved further up the river. Here was a small village where we had been invited to see the release of some turtles. The yellow-spotted river turtle is one of the largest turtles and has been on the endangered list for a while. It has been hunted for food and was also exceedingly popular as a pet in the USA. Fortunately, now some work is being done to protect the turtles. The villagers collect turtle eggs and then protect them while they hatch. Once the baby turtles’ shells have hardened, they can be released into the wild with a much better chance of survival. We arrived at the riverbank by the village to find buckets full of baby turtles, all ready to be set free. Diane loved this. She carefully carried a bucket to a marked area by the water and tipped them out. The turtles knew exactly what to do and headed straight down the slope for the water. It was great to watch.

Nauta

From Arequipa we flew back to Lima, yet again, for the New Year celebrations. The party was typically Peruvian and involved a massive and completely unorganised firework display on the clifftops of Miraflores. It was rather magnificent and chaotic. The park area was packed with people and colourful ordnance exploded all around us. Great fun. Two days later we flew to Iquitos to join an Amazon River trip. From the plane we could see the vast tracts of jungle with the river winding its way through it.

The Amazon basin is huge. Seven million square kilometres. The Amazon River is the largest in the world by discharge volume. It is also the longest, depending on how you measure these things. Near the head of the river, in north-east Peru, is the city of Iquitos, population 50,000. This is the world’s largest city that cannot be reached by road or rail. Average temperature 32°C with 80% humidity. Hot and sweaty. Not really my favourite environment but we wanted to experience a rainforest, or at least, I did, so we just had to put up with it. One of the selling points of the river boat we were joining was air-conditioned cabins. At least would have a cool refuge.

From Iquitos we were driven, on the only road, to the small town of Nauta, population 2,000. Nauta is located on the north bank of the Marañón River, a few miles from its confluence of the Río Ucayali. On maps, the point where the rivers join is the highest place that is named the Amazon River.

The river boat, called the Delfin II, operates several long, narrow, steel hulled boats that they call skiffs. Each of these has two rows of seats for a dozen people and two outboard engines on the back. The boats have to be quite tough because there is a lot of wood and other debris floating in the river. We were collected and taken to the Delfin which was holding station just offshore. Here we were introduced to our cabin. The accommodation was rather nice. A large picture window, good sized bed, nice bathroom and the all-important air-conditioning. It seemed like a significant part of the design of the river boat was to support the generators and heat exchangers necessary to run all the cooling systems. I was struck by the same contradiction that we experienced in Thailand. The general approach to dealing with global warming is to try and use less energy. But the way to deal with living in hot places is to use more energy so that you can keep cool. We had an excellent dinner and then went straight to bed with the warning that we were going to be up before sunrise the next day.

The best time to explore the jungle is early in the morning. I had to reluctantly admit this. Neither of us are really morning people but the advantages are clear. It is a bit cooler but perhaps more importantly this is when most of the birds and animals are active. By lunchtime the rainforest is relatively quiet. Earlier it is buzzing with creatures all going about their business. So, up early, before breakfast and off in the skiffs. We saw many birds including Red-capped cardinal, Kiskadees and some hawks. We also saw a pair of Hoatzin birds. These are unusual amongst birds in that they only eat plants. To consume the vegetation, they have unique digestive system, which contains specialized bacteria in the front part of the gut. This ferments the food, mostly leaves, a process that produces a lot of ripe methane. Locally they are known as “stinkbirds” and are generally avoided by hunters. Apparently, they not only smell bad but also taste bad. Clever birds. Another clever aspect is that the chicks have claws on their wings. This allows them to climb around the tree where they nest. If attacked by predators such as great black hawks, the chicks will jump into the water and hide under the nest while the parents distract the attackers. Later, they can use their claws to clamber back into the nest.

After breakfast, we went for a walk. Walking in the rainforest is not entirely straightforward. We were equipped with Wellington boots, waterproofs and bottles of water. We also applied mosquito repellent and suns screen. It was hot and sweaty. Within a few minutes my shirt was soaked and after an hour my hands were going wrinkly as if I had been in a swimming pool. The forest was dense and reached high above us. So much so that there was not much light. Taking photographs was difficult. No just because of the low light but also because of condensation forming on the lens. We had a local guide who tended to wander off into the forest and then reappear with interesting things. First up was a red backed poison frog. These secrete poison through their skin to deter predators. The frogs are only small but the poison is nasty. Not necessarily fatal to humans but it will kill smaller mammals. Our man was careful to just hold the frog by its leg. Next up was a tarantula spider. Not sure exactly what type but it was enormous, for a spider. Maybe 12 cm long. Then we were shown a Boa constrictor which hissed at me and finally an Anaconda. This looks a little strange in the picture because it had just eaten something. After a couple of hours of walking we were more than happy to get back to our lovely cool cabin for a shower before lunch and an afternoon siesta.

Early evening, we were out again in the skiffs. This is the happy hour for mosquitoes, so we applied extra repellent. Even so, they munched on Diane quite a lot and she came up with many lumps and bumps. We saw Black-capped donacobius, several hawks and a few White-eared jacamar. There were bats on trees. These were a little hard to see. Proboscis bats are only small and blend into the tree bark. From any distance they look like leaves but get closer and you spot the details. Finally, there were monkeys. Squirrel monkeys. A big troop of them. Tricky to photograph because they are small, tend to stay far away and also like to stay hidden behind the leaves and branches. Terrific to watch as they leap around in the canopy. As dusk fell, we headed back to the Delfin II for another excellent dinner and another early night.