Lions And Tigers And Bears

When you hear the word 'Amazon', there might be a few things that come to mind. You might picture lush green forrest, crocodiles staring at you hungrily by the river in the sweltering heat while piranas leap out of the water, and a big eyed Steve Irwin yelling, his camera crew in the distance, "Crikey! Look at the size of that croc!"

Well every word of that is almost completely accurate, but not quite.

The truth of the matter is, I got on a giant banana boat and cruised, painfully slow, down the large empty Amazon river for 3 days with a bunch of cattle. I saw logs instead of crocodiles, pink dolphins instead of piranas and absolutely no sign of the deceased Steve Irwin. Considering a person's expectations, you could say this gig might have proved a bit disappointing.

Not in the least, however, quite relaxing to be sure. I slept in my hammock every night beside this lovely german couple the same age as myself. I need to say just one thing. They are one of the most beautiful couples I've ever seen. So brilliant, so gorgeous, so young and capable. A little like a certain Canadian girl I know. We sat, watching the fantasmic shooting stars atop the boat, dashing food being made for us every meal, and the most pressing thing to do is watch along the river for those crocodiles. Just Germany and Canada, taking over the Amazon and then the world, one banana at a time.

And so folks, to put it in a cliche I would say, 'it's the journey, not the destination' because I think it might fit quite well with how I popped into the Amazon. Especially this next bit. This bit was what I went through before even getting to the Amazon, prior to boarding the boat. What I'm about to tell you could prove to be a bit chilling, a word to the wise that you might consider being more lighthearted than usual when reading this. It is not intended to scare you. I need to repeat, it is NOT intended to scare you. This is just an incident which I will be able to talk about, possibly even brag about, for years to come.

I had started taking my blasted malaria medication 2 days prior to this incident, and it had the effect of a sort of persistent nausea on myself for a few days. I'm sitting in a car full of locals, the roads are windy as hell. Maybe windy is the wrong word. I felt like I was part of a bloody tornado, you know, like the one in Wizard of Oz? Me being Dorothy. Just sitting there, wide-eyed, curly haired and vulnerable as I'm thrown every which way spinning round and round. We are never going to stop, it's never going to end. I am vomiting out the window. Driving through yet another small town, a motorcycle taxi is driving slowly ahead of us. It is important to note where I am seated, the front passenger seat. As the the car I'm in goes to pass this taxi on the left, the taxi goes to turn around, also, to the left. Our car hits this bloody idiot of a taxi driver who later turns out to be intoxicated, at a speed of 50 km/h. As indicated, I am in the front passengers seat. I get the impact of this horrible judgement call. This dents the front right end of the car, the window to my right shatters. Glass. All over me. Naturally, we immediately pull over to assess the damage. Another wave of nausea comes over me. I'm not about to hurl my insides through a broken window, so I try to open the door but it's so damaged it won't budge. It is this next sentence that will stay with me for quite some time. I'm crawling out the driver's side just in time to continue my line of projectile vomit all over asphalt, trying unsuccessfully to shake all sizes of glass off myself, while the entire town gathers around the scene to watch the drunk asshole yell at the driver of my car about whose fault this was.

That's all I have to say about that.

I tell you this because it has already happened, and no one was hurt. I tell you this because it was an experience which I lived fully, and my memoirs are written for the remembrance of such events, tragic or uplifting as they may be.

And so, with a deep breath she embraces the Amazon, ready for whatever may come.

B.