We climbed in the rainforest to see Salto Angel. Often tourists can walk behind the fall but the water level was too high for us because of the night's rain. I was impressed by the three older women who trekked slowly up and down the mountain, gently clambering over rocks. The younger boy was very patient with the women, staying with them, while the young couple and I sped ahead. It was a humid walk, lush. And then there was Salto Angel, spraying us with its uncontained mist. Nicol told me to call to her when I reached Salto Angel and I did, hallooing her name to the waterfall.
me, swollen-eyed, in front of Salto Angel
Today's boatride back to Canaima was not as nice as on the way there. Not because the grand tepuis were behind us but because I wore sunglasses belonging to the Venezuelan student, at the insistence of one of the women, who is a doctor. She advised me to protect my mango-eyes from the sun. The world is dull behind sunglesses, dull and indistinct.
I have a half an hour until my plane takes off and from a stand selling homemade food I've bought a moist slice of light chocolate cake with other unidentifiable flavours and a sort of mousse in the middle. Earlier I wandered down a forest track, emerging in front of a cage of small monkeys. I stood entranced by their cream-coloured genitals while they desultorily clambered around their cage and hammock. Another cage had a different type of monkey. One, with a damaged red eye, took my arm and made a feeding sign - his hand in front of his mouth. These monkeys had completely different genitals, dark, long thin penises with a dish-like protuberance at the end. I agitated the red-eyed monkey by being there. He started to run around and climb the cage, swinging his ass as he walked along the floor, hooting. I thought it best to leave him alone.
Last night I didn't sleep very well in my hammock, disturbed by my itchy, itchy eyes and early bedtime. I got up in the wee hours of the morning to pee and bathe my eyes in salt water. On the way to the rainy bush for a pee I knocked apart two narrow tubes, one attached to the gas cylinder. I didn't burn down the shelter, thank god. I was easily able to put the tubes back together again.
I sat at a table putting wet napkins on my eyes and Churum, our guide, got up to see if I was okay in the candlelight. The sky was starting to lighten. Eveyrone was very concerned about my eyes. Last night the smiley wife of the tall Trinidadian put her contact solution into my eyes and one of older woman who said she was a doctor told me only to eat big mangoes as the 'poison' in them is less concentrated.
On the way back to Canaima we stopped at a small waterfall on the river and had a swim in the Pool of Happiness. Here we could stand in the falls and sit on rocks where the falls jacuzzi the water. A nice break from the long, wet boat trip. Roiling clouds enfolded the tepui tops, and occasionally, when the river curved it looked as if we were heading into a mottled wall of green. The water was lower today and I saw grassy banks and islands, the women behind screaming as we hit some light rapids and got a soaking.
I don't have the blissful feeling today that I had yesterday but I am glad I have excursioned with a group of Venezuelans who shared whiskey and homemade birthday cake with me.
I saw Anthony only briefly today. He said hi when we arrived back and I gave him a kiss on the cheek goobye when I left. Churum took me to the island's white hospital building, where I was injected in the ass-cheek with cortisone by a fair, skinny, moustachioed Spanish-speaking young doctorwho looked like a sweet-natured American hick even though he was not, and given a cycle of antihistamines. Yay for socialised medicine! So far the cortisone does not seem to be working.
When I was finished at the hospital it was almost time for lunch - a huge pile of spaghetti, mine with just oil and grated parmesan. It was nice! My fellow excursionistas teased Churum over our meal until it was time for them to go tour the lagoons. Everyone shook my hand or kissed me goodbe and seemed genuinely sorry I wasn't coming with them again. Hopefully the boys will email me the photos taken of all of us together.
A group of tourists are taking off in the Aerotuy plane and I am the only tourist left at the station. I was told I am on another flight. My own private one?
Churum told me the Amazon isn't rainforest, but jungle, and it is totally different from Canaima. I thought rainforest and jungle were the same thing.
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