The surrounding streets are paved with a mixture of stone and rubber to mute the wheels and horses' hooves during performances. Into the Jungle I stayed in Manaus only a couple of days, then set out on a boat with a powerful outboard motor. The hotel consists of several towers connected by passageways open to monkeys, parrots, coatis and every insect known to man. Chicken wire everywhere prevents animals from coming in the rooms, especially the monkeys, which can wreak as much destruction as an elephant. It seemed to me that we walked for an eternity, but afterward I realized that the walk had been ridiculously short.
Compasses are useless here, and one can wander in circles forever.
It smells of moss, of moistness, and sometimes you catch the waft of a sweet odor like rotted fruit. The heat is exhausting, but beneath the dark canopy of the trees you can at least breathe. Out on the river the sun beats down unmercifully, although as long as the boat is moving, there is a breeze. To inexpert eyes, everything is uniformly green, but for the native, the jungle is a diverse and endlessly rich world. The guide pointed out vines that collect pure water to drink, bark that relieves fevers, leaves used to treat diabetes, resins that close wounds, the sap of a tree that cures a cough, rubber for affixing points on arrows.