12.40pm, Thursday June 11, Canaima airport ....mon dieu

Oh my god, oh my god. I can't believe what I've just been able to do: fly over the Delta Orinoco and Guayana forest. It was amazing. The first flight from Margarita to Puerto Ordaz was mostly over flat plains separated into squares by dirt roads, but the second flight, well, let's just say I will feel okay if I don't see the Amazon.

First the little 12-seater to Canaima flew over Delta Orinoco, navy blue smooth water dotted by sprouting flower islands like hand-printed fabric or fancy wallpaper. Occasionally there are tiny
round islands as well. Miles of this paisley turned into plains of trees as far as the eye can see.


view of the Orinoco Delta

Then all of a sudden a steep cliff emerges up or down and the plains of trees starts again on a different level. At first the cliffs were also tree-covered, but these gave way to sheer cliff faces and waterfalls careening in face-long caves. This is the most breathtaking landscape I have seen - better, even, than Utah - though its impressiveness lies in the scale of its breadth, which one can only perceive by flying over it.



view of Venezuela tepui

Having heard that the rainforest is disappearing by a football field a minute, seeing the vastness of this forest is heartening. It must have taken us an hour to fly across it and it stretched in both directions to the horizon. I am lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky to be here and I have just been served a lunch of thin brown french fries, salad and cheese. Buen appetito to me!

My guide, Anthony, sat with me through most of my meal. He asked if I want to go dancing tonight and said Canaima has everything. So far all I've seen is the airport: a platform with stalls selling jewellery, postcards and such, and a food stand with homemade cake. At 2.45pm I headed to the Canaima lagoon. Anthony is a Caribe indio, born in Canaima. He has travelled around Venezuela and says everything is here in Canaima: beach, waterfall, lagoon, forest, savannah, animals. I'm almost prepared to be disappointed with Canaima, as both Nicol and the dodgy tour booker described it as mystical. They told me I'd love it, that it is the most amazing place. Really? Yet, after that plane trip, nothing can let me down.

My room at the camp is white, with wooden bed bases with white sheets, two twin beds and a double, a bright green tin roof, brown and grey mottled tile floor and wooden shutters and a door. The bathroom is big with a large shower area. I have an hour to read Michael Palin's 'Full Circle' (borrowed from MS upon finishing Auster) in the hammock outside my door. What did I do to deserve such luxury? (Answer: Work full time!)