Not every day in Guyana involved climbing mountains. Some were glorious, quieter days — slow days spent immersed in the rainforest, with the privilege of doing little more than watching and waiting. Under the trees, surrounded by birdsong and movement, I found it surprisingly easy to relax into the rhythm of it all.
Woken again by distant howler monkeys at about 3:30 in the morning. Lord knows what they are doing at that hour.
The day starts with showers, but they ease enough for us to head out on an early drift on the river — just water, whispers and wildlife. Nobody speaks much. Everything feels quiet and slightly hushed, until the rain starts again around us.
After breakfast, Mahadeo — now very much my mountain hero — takes me across the river to some rocks where I can try photographing Red-rumped caciques and their extraordinary hanging nests. I suggest an hour, but I am fairly sure he forgets about me as it is nearly two before he returns.
The birds are noisy, busy and constantly on the move, darting from nest to nest while I repeatedly point the camera at the wrong one. There seems to be a fair amount of squabbling amongst neighbours too. Their woven nests hang from the branches like untidy baskets, swaying gently above the river.
They are beautiful birds, and I leave with fingers firmly crossed that I have captured something worth keeping.
On another morning, Valerie, Kevin, one of our local guides, and I head downriver to a spot where I try my luck with hummingbirds. Colin Stafford-Johnson, our trip leader and wildlife cameraman, has advised us to watch first, noting their preferred perches before setting up the tripod in the boat.
Kevin wedges us into the bank on the opposite side of the river from the bushes they favour, and we wait. After dropping my camera in the sea on another trip, I make sure I am firmly tethered to it.
They are gorgeous little jewels, flitting from perch to perch, and I do wonder why I am so determined to photograph these tiny birds in flight. The challenge, perhaps. Patience is a virtue, they say, and waiting is very much the key.
Once the camera is set up, Kevin becomes a little distracting, enthusiastically pointing out birds on different branches, but a gentle swing of the lens usually brings them into view. They seem quite happy with us sitting not too far away, darting from place to place. I manage a couple of nice shots, though they are still very small in the frame.
Then, as the rain starts again, a tiny scarlet hummingbird perches on a stick, flicking its wings and tail in the shower. It is glorious — and testing the limits of my lens.
We decide to join the others at the lodge site and try photographing the hummingbirds there instead, but by then it is too late in the morning and I reluctantly give up. We head back for yet another delicious lunch.
After lunch, and what feels like a very short rest, we set off for another waterfall pool. Kevin and Colin assure us it is an easy 15-minute walk, rather than the hour-long trek some of the others in the party have taken, but it is certainly longer and more arduous than I am expecting.
There is uphill and downhill, log crossings, a wooden bridge and finally a broad rock to scramble down before hopping across smaller rocks to reach the pool.
We find a spot at the side where we can change to swim. Our guides even move some of the rocks around the edge of the pool to make things a little easier for those of us who are a bit more cautious negotiating slippery stones. It takes me a little while to get into the water, but once I do it is deliciously cool, washing away the heat and sweat of the walk.
Swim is probably a generous word, though. I find a couple of large rocks in the middle, balance myself and stay put. From my perch I can watch the others clambering around under the falls while I sensibly remain where I am.
Before long it is time to get out, change and head back. The return walk feels much better — and considerably cooler — after the dip.
Back at base, Colin reminds us that he has found a rather dangerous snake near the loo path and to be careful at night. Mmm… I think I’ll be sticking to Plan A and not going for a wee in the night.
As it turns out, the snake was not my only wildlife encounter of the day. Unbeknown to me, a number of ticks had already taken quite a liking to me back at the lodge site.
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