Life on Earth

Day 54-57: Amazon Rain Forest, Bolivia. Ahhh! What better way to spend a pleasant and relaxing afternoon than a spot of lake fishing? The sun going down behind the trees; a kingfisher flies from the bushes and bubbles gently break the surface of the calm waters as the angler's prey are nonchalantly lured towards the waiting bait. But as you've probably guessed, in Bolivia's seemingly altered reality, things were a little different on our fishing trip. For the sun had an equatorial fierceness, the trees formed the canopy of the largest and most beautiful forest on the planet, the kingfisher was of the giant Amazon variety and the the lake; crocodile infested. No maggots here; our bait were chunks of best quality beef steak that turned the water into a frenzied, bubbling cauldron. For today we we fishing for piranha!

Ever since I was a teenager I have always wanted to visit the Amazon Rainforest to experience the most diverse, varied and fragile ecosystem on earth. Since arriving in South America, Karen and I had realised that it was relatively easy to reach the rain-forest from any of the countries that formed the Amazon Basin provided you had enough time, desire and money. But finding a way to the forest that doesn't pose any more threat to this already endangered environment; travelling responsibly, ecologically and sustainably: That was a lot more difficult.

And so, after much research, we opted to visit the Amazon through Chalalán: Bolivia’s leading community-based ecotourism project. Set up in the early 1990s by the inhabitants of remote San José de Uchupiamonas, it has become a lifeline for these villagers, and has so far generated money for a school and a small clinic. Built entirely from natural rainforest materials by the enthusiastic San José youth, the lodge’s simple and elegant huts surround the idyllic Laguna Chalalán in the heart of the 7,000 square mile Parque Nacional Madidi.

The park itself takes in a range of wildlife habitats, from the steaming lowland rainforests to 18,000 feet Andean peaks. This little-trodden utopia is home to an astonishing variety of Amazonian wildlife: 44% of all New World mammal species live here, 38% of tropical amphibian species, almost 1,000 kinds of bird and more protected species than any other park in the world. Because of its remoteness, getting to the park created its own challenges: The seasons rains had virtually destroyed any north-bound road from La Paz, so luckily we had managed to secure a flight to the river trading outpost of Rurrenabaque on a little 18 seater turbo-prop plane that landed bumpily on the village's grass airstrip. Rurrenabaque literally is the end of the road and as the only way to travel north from here is by boat, we took the 6 hour trip up the misty Rio Beni and Rio Tuichi; 'tiny' half mile wide tributaries of the mighty Amazon itself, before hiking the last couple of miles to the reserve.

With the indigenous, Amazonian, Giovanni as our guide (apparently he didn't much care for his name but was given it by the local missionaries!), we trekked the rain forest morning, noon and night to try to understand it's secrets. Giovanni would show us how his people interact with the forest, and how it's animal, plant and bird-life provided them the food, shelter and medicine that their community used in their everyday lives. But it was Giovanni's knowledge of the fragility and symbiotic relationships of this unique environment that really made me listen. He, along with his community from San José, were at one with the forest: This was their past, their present and their future. For their community to survive they had to hand the rain-forest to their children exactly as they had inherited it from their parents. Oh, how much our own greedy, wasteful society could learn from these simple, happy people who live in the middle of paradise.

The rainforest never stops: 24 x 7. 365 days a year. The forest floor is dark and damp, covered in fallen leaves and decaying wood giving a distinctly autumnal feel (if you ignore the heat and humidity that is!). But it is precisely this constant decay that provides the fuel for the forest's perpetual Spring; every day new leaves and flowers burst from the canopy in a race to get closest to the streaming sunlight. And in every strata, from floor to canopy, nature thrives in super-size: Inch long farmer ants incessantly tidy anything that dares to fall from above; six inch cicada join a host of insects that buzz through the undergrowth; huge, multicoloured parrots, macaws and toucans fill the upper regions whilst countless species of monkey swing noisily through the highest canopy attracted by Giovanni's Dr Doolittle like abilities. And whilst the flora and fauna are beautiful, its the noises that will stay with me forever: The incredible dawn bird chorus, the evening frog symphony, the collective whine of a zillion insects, the roar of bucketing tropical rainstorms and, in the early morning, the thunder-like chorus of every howler monkey within a 100 mile radius!

Of course, this stunning beauty also hides it share of danger as well. Along with the crocodiles, piranhas, anacondas and boa constrictors these forest are the home to predatory cats, crazed pigs and walking trees! The tiny fire-ants which hunt in swarms; their collective bite strong enough to kill a man. I was lucky: In my encounter with these little termites, I only sustained a couple of bites – but believe me the pain was excruciating. I can not begin to image how death by 1,000 of these bites must feel. But as confirmed arachnophobes, when Giovanni told us we were going on a spider hunt, both Karen and I came out in a cold sweat: Jumping spiders, wandering spiders, 30 foot webs stretching between the trees providing a home for a million communal arachnids. And then, hiding between the roots of a fig tree, Giovanni found a 10 inch tarantula rearing its legs in aggression. “It won't bite you if you don't bother it”, he said, poking the spider with a small stick – but by this stage, Karen and I were already making our tracks back to the safety of the lodge.

The most stunningly beautiful ecosystem and environment anywhere on planet earth. An ecosystem that may just provide the salvation to the almost irreparable damage that we have all inflicted on our planet so far. This is not just Giovanni's or even Sting's environment to protect. It is the responsibility of each and every one of us.

Oh, and by the way, Giovanni's grilled piranha fish tasted just divine!