Amazon.

Rio Negro comes from the dense jungle of the north. It's waters are dark, almost black with the decomposing foliage. Rio Solimões comes from the west, all the way up the Andean tops and carries mud. It's colder, travels faster and its waters are brown. As they meet, a little further downstream from Manaus they travel side by side, without mixing immediately, little swirls doing the introductions like shaking hands, getting to know each other. And after a few kilometers the joined twins are called the Amazon.

Around the meeting of the rivers there's a dense forest of extremely tall trees. They have proper trunks-it's not the jungle and the all fuse at the top to form a green umbrella that follows you around. One of them apparently is the largest tree of the continent. Unfortunately it's name eludes me, it's in one of the indigenous languages. The silence is eerie and the black and blue reflections on the water dreamlike. It's a green, fluid, hallucinating maze.

Victoria Regis is the name of the largest lily of them all. It's only on the Solimões, the Negro's high acidity is prohibiting. The monkeys could be using them as giant pools, springs, hammocks, I don't know what. Their flower is white the first day, pink the second and purple on the third. And then it is no more. Don't go too far searching for another one, it's right there, next to you. And another and another. As far as you can see.

I'm afraid I did not spend that much time in the jungle. And to be honest I do not mind that much. I'm happy I'm here but happier this universe is here. The trip down the river, all the way to the ocean has commenced.

Eating Piranhas.

I've wanted to see Manaus ever since I first heard of a city on the banks of the Amazon. Manaus excited me more than the jungle itself. But I had no idea about this place. I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting or even dreaming. It doesn't matter anymore.

Manaus is bigger than I thought, much bigger. And it's not even on the Amazon, it lies on the north bank of Rio Negro, a few kms NW of the meeting of the rivers, where Rio Negro and Rio Solimões join to form the mighty River. It would also be a stretch to call Manaus beautiful or romantic. It certainly has a long and glorious past, especially during the few decades on either side of the beginning of the 20th century, during the rubber boom. Inevitably history took its course and left more than a few scars behind.

But I still fell for it. It's gritty, rough and rusty, with old mansions gutted by an urban jungle, with an amazing amount of street stalls, the heat and humidity of hell and it's grand Opera house smack in the middle. The port is as real as it gets. Fish and grains, hammocks, engines, fruits, umbrellas; all are in a constant move through the eternal sweating of the men. Stalls with fish soup and little corner barbeques, plastic chairs with frozen beer fill in a feverish craze through the ingeniousness of the women.You can find anything you want. I found a salami of tobacco to accompany my hammock on my boat trip.