Tarapoto. The best laid plans...

Here I swing…

It is a beautiful warm evening in Paradise, a lovely end to a what has been a scorchingly  hot day.  Last post I was in the same position, I believe.  I say this with a warm satisfied smile firmly entrenched on my face.

Hostal La Patarasca in Tarapoto has taken its’ place as my de-facto home away from home in this Jungle city in Northern Peru, just one set of mountains away from the watery wonder that is the Amazon Basin.  There really is something wonderful in coming back to the same place year after year.  The welcome smiles and hugs make a long journey worthwhile. 

Petite and friendly Yolanda (who speaks the fastest Spanish of anyone I know) is expecting me, and check in is a breeze and I have my pick of rooms.  A quick unpack before heading up the road to La Capola, a lovely restaurant with a wonderful view of the rain forested mountains of the Cordillera Escalera.  For months I have been looking forward to and my tummy is now rumbling in anticipation of their Avacado & Vegetable salad.  But they have run out so I must settle (really?) for a heart of palm salad instead.  Poor me.

Off to the main square to the beautifully renovated supermarket to pick up some water and to poke around.  I decide to forgo buying fruit in anticipation of a quick visit to the local market tomorrow. 

Back at my room, up goes the mosquito net and not many minutes later I crawl under it sans clothing to lie exhausted from the heat.  Zero appetite for dinner and a litre of water down by bedtime.  Sometime after nightfall on this Saturday night the music of Festival starts, it comes to me that arriving on such a day is not promising sleep wise. 

This is street party season, and normally I would be out there with the crowd having a blast.  Overwhelming, pounding Latin beats competing from all over town keeps up until about 5am.  And at 6 the parrots start squawking just outside the screened windows.  Can’t blame anyone but myself because I have been here for Festival before and should have remembered. 

Bleary eyed, I emerge from my room for coffee and to reacquaint myself properly with my hammock.  AHHH.  In conversation with the staff and learn that the wonderfully impertinent, and universally loved blue parrot Domingo had recently died.  I had wondered why he didn’t come robbing bread and Jam off my table at breakfast.  I am welcomed by the lovely family that own this slice of urban paradise, Cesar, La Senora and their daughter Cindy.  

A quick saunter (in this heat it is not an oxymoron) to the local market to get more water and some fruit, and then I retreat to my room for most of the balance of the day, emerging once to have a late lunch.  The heat and lack of sleep has played havoc on these old bones.  Mosquito net, birthday suit, cold showers, room fan on high and T3s.  Such is life. 

When the days heat gives way to the evenings breeze I throw on some clothes and join a group hanging out on the Patio.  To my delight I find Nicolas there.  I met him a couple of years previously here and he was one of the male posse that I so enjoyed on a day visit outside town.  We spent several evenings sitting together and talking as new friends do… about life and the future.  He is here with his kids and partner, all of whom It was a pleasure to meet.  Funny thing is I had a feeling I would see him this visit. 

He has purchased a parcel of land just outside the city, and together with Cindy (who has started her own Real Estate agency since I last saw her) we chat a bit about the area and Real Estate values etc. 

The value of a good sleep can really not be overstated.  The aggravation of Travelers tummy is in the same boat.  Apparently I was due both. 

Morning comes and it is clear that a planned rafting trip down the local river is not going to happen for me.  Sometime between hammock swings and toilet visits the tropical rains begin and I mourn the wild ride I am missing. 

I blog.  I drink water.  I swing.  I drink water.  I snooze.  I drink water.  And yes, yes, I poop, and I drink water.  Oh joy.

The blogging is done without the internet, as the rains tend to mess with it somehow.  The swinging is done with plenty of bug spray… the mosquitoes have found me.

The snoozing is done in the buff and under the net.

The pooping… well that is just nasty.

Another day goes bye, a repeat of yesterday.

Another day goes bye, a repeat of the repeat.

So I am down to one main meal a day… why waste money, no?

I am watching evening reruns of 1980s movies.

I am re-establishing a rapport with the parrots.

I am dodging all manner of carnivorous bugs.

I am not going for my much beloved river wanders.

I am not headed Lamas to buy some of their spectacular coffee.

I am not poking about the city markets or visiting friends.

And I SERIOUSLY doubt I am getting on a bus for an eight hour journey to get me to Chachapoyas tomorrow. 

The best laid plans and all that…