3.00pmish, Sunday June 28, AA airplane ....to the US

My South American adventure is over. I had a great last day with S, who said she would miss me. Last night MS rang me on her mobile and chattered at me for 20 minutes or so. I think I understood about three quarters of what he said - I hate mobile phones. It was so nice to hear him speak, his cheery sentence structure and distinctive voice. I had already been missing it. He followed up with a message to S's phone telling me not to miss him too much - we would see each other soon. I think that's what it said - S took the phone away from me too fast. I love that he called and texted. I love that he doesn't hold back those impulses. It is lovely to be that well-regarded.

I must finish the tales of the last days of my Venezuelan adventure. Take your mind back to the Amazon, a group of four disappointed excursionistas wondering what exactly our guides had in store for us.

When MS and I arrived back at the river from our failed attempt to weave a path through the forest, we found Tito and the boatman beaming over beautiful huge fish they had caught. MS took photos but it pained me to see such beautiful creatures dead, one huge fat fish gutted by a spear.

MS and I played in the water for a bit, me finally ditching my bra and shorts for my swimsuit. Dinner that evening was platanos, avocado, rice and a salad with tomato and cucumber. We were provided with a bottle of red wine this time and for dessert a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting to celebrate...something. I can't remember what. A birthday? A holiday? Silence reigned while we were eating, but I talked for a couple of hours with Andreas, about Germany and its social democracy, lazy Berliners.

In the evening, MS and I decided to experiment sleeping together in a hammock, partly because we were both so cold the night before. I got into the hammock first and when MS rolled in, me trying to move to one side of the hammock, I burst into a hysterical laughing fit. I couldn't move and it was all so awkward and immobilising. It has been a long time since I laughed like that. Us trying to get comfortable in a hammock was hilarious. Finally I found myself with my head on MS's chest and our legs tangled together and I actually slept for a while. But when I woke up I shifted a bit and suddenly felt suffocated, like I couldn't breathe properly. I allowed a slightly panicky feeling to overtake me and finally told MS that I was uncomfortable and suggested we sleep in different hammocks.

Back here on the plane, we are stuck on the runway waiting for paperwork to be completed because one of the fuel tanks isn't working. This is not a problem for flying, the captain assured us, but the plane still needs dispatch permission to fly with one out-of-order fuel tank. The captain spoke to us again to explain further that the legal requirement of 12 fuel tanks is excessive to the practical requirement of only eight working tanks for the plane to fly, and even if they suddenly broke, gravity would come to our rescue. The problem of the busted fuel tank is thus a problem only for the maintenance men. If this was a problem, the captain said, he certainly wouldn't be flying because of all the billions of lives on the planet his is the most important one.