May 30, 2003 From Texas to Toronto, then Seattle, and on to the UK, where on May 31 I went from Exeter (where I wished Judith Morrison a very happy 50th birthday) back to Mortimer (where we encountered a baby fox on the road at midnight) and then to Oxford. Robert Beer and Gill Farrer-Halls have just moved into a new house, whose back garden opens directly onto the River Isis (which, for reasons that continue to remain unclear to me, is how the Thames is known there). There I obtained practical experience of how easily and pleasantly one can get around in Central Oxford merely by walking the paths that follow the river and its canal, and enjoyed many most agreeable moments with Robert & Gill.

May 15, 2003 The sun is just rising as I write these words, on September 10, 2003, a morning on which the moon (being just now but a couple of hours away from its peak of fullness) is almost simultaneously setting. Summer being nearly done, fall entering the air, the time has come to put computer on lap and begin again to bend electrons to my will. When last seen our protagonist was on a speedboat, zooming back to Iquitos from the Refugio Altiplano, en route first to Lima and then to Cusco, which at 11,500 feet is more than two miles higher, and more than a world away, from the abundance of the Amazon.

Should you visit Cusco yourself you will be met on arrival at your hotel, as was I, with a hot steaming cup of tea made from the leaves of the coca bush, the same plant from which is derived the dangerous substance that Coca-Cola once contained (and that gave it its name). Unlike cocaine, coca leaf tea is quite benign, even beneficent, for after a couple of cups the altitude suddenly seems less burdensome as you begin to breathe easier. Though two days (which was all I had in hand) is insufficient even for a cursory exploration of Cusco and its environs (even if you are breathing easily), I opted to spend but one day there, that I might invest the other in a day-trip to Machu Pichu.

Most of the superlatives that have been written about Machu Pichu are true, and "spectacular" is a poor excuse for an adequate descriptor. Your route there, by railway, follows a gorgeous river downstream, and after detraining at roughly 6500 feet, you take a bus back up 1500 feet to reach the site itself. As I wandered about there I made the acquaintance of Flor, a young textile engineer from Lima who was traveling alone, and we spent the rest of the afternoon exploring the ruins, and marveling at Inca construction skills, and their mountain-top sun-oriented aesthetic.

All too soon I found myself back in Lima, and then Texas, determined to soon return to Peru. I arrived in time for the lunar eclipse of May 15, most of which I missed due to overcast conditions. The heavens did, however, choose to give me a peek at the eclipse at the very moment that it ended, with a thin triumphant crescent of reborn moon peeking out from behind its obscuring shadow just as the orb itself peeked up from behind the cloudbank..

May 1, 2003Having returned from Australia to North America on April 7, I proceeded to Texas to pay my taxes, then departed on April 23 for Peru, landing on the 24th morning in Lima and the 24th evening in Iquitos, where a blinding rainstorm welcomed me to Amazonia. Iquitos lies only slightly downstream from where two rivers join to form the mighty waterway that is the Amazon, which stretches a mile or more wide even at that point. Met at the airport by Dr. James Williams of Encinitas, we rendezvoused for dinner with the thoroughly amiable Roger Chong, an Iquitos businessman and friend of James.

Next day, after shopping for necessities (rubber boots, papayas) we were off on the river with Scott Petersen, owner and operator of the Refugio Altiplano. Scott has been in South America for a couple of decades, and has developed the Refugio (see www.junglespirit.com) into a retreat space that is an hour and a quarter by speed boat (and three hours or more by conventional craft) down the Amazon from Iquitos, up a smaller tributary known as the Tamshiaku. Scott's boat's motor being in the shop on that day, we took off in a hired craft, which developed engine trouble mid-river about halfway to our destination. Synchronicity being what it is, it just so happened that a gentleman from whom Scott had just purchased a piece of land happened to pass by on his larger boat, and gave us a welcome (if slower) lift to the Refugio. As we puttered along this boat's owner marveled at how he had been delayed for an hour stuck on a sandbar (otherwise he would have been ahead of us when we found ourselves in need), and how he had just "happened" to look across a couple of hundred meters of water and recognize Scott. We all thanked our lucky stars for these "coincidences."

James & I were a full fortnight at the Refugio, joined for the second week by my dear friend Dr. Carmen Frigerio, who flew up from Buenos Aires for the occasion. Other humans aside, there were also two ocelots and a jaguarundi in residence. Merlin, the tamer of the ocelots, loved to play, and insisted on being underfoot; Gabriel, the jaguarundi, would when his belly was full cuddle up with you in your hammock and nap peacefully in the crook of your arm. Mind your extremities, though, if you happened to interpose yourself between either of them and their food! Gabriel in particular loved to hunt, and many a time did a guest look away from his dinner only to find a brown blur speeding across the table to snatch whatever he might have on his plate.

When we humans weren't amusing ourselves with the cats we were we tempering the omnipresent heat with regular dips in the Rio Tamshiaku, enjoying the local flora and fauna (monkeys, monitor lizards, river dolphins) and the astounding variety of unusual insects (including psychedelic ants and beetles, and tiny, non-stinging wasps that lick the sweat from your arms & legs for its salt). We strove to empathize with the jungle and its residents (all but the mosquitos, which resisted all efforts at peaceful co-existence), a task made easier by the ayahuasca ceremonies celebrated with Don Benjamin, a Shipibo shaman. All in all, a magical experience.

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