The trip home and final thoughts (Wednesday, June 14)

We leave the zoo with a final embrace from this cheerful 'onça', the mascot of the Jungle Force

We get an Uber and make the driver stop at a Petz store, so we can get presents for our long-suffering dogs (they always check the suitcase for new toys). Then on to a last lunch at the fabulous Juma Opera, after which we get picked up at 1pm to go to the airport. The rest of the trip is a blur of waiting to be called to the gate (late) and crossing fingers for a timely arrival in São Paulo for our connection to Rio just after 10pm. We make it to the gate and get in line, when, after a while, it becomes clear that nothing is happening - apparently the crew didn't show! Meanwhile Victor has left the house to pick us up in Rio. We take off after midnight and land before 1am. Victor is waiting - hallelujah - and gets us into the car and offers water. But it's not over - the Rebouças tunnel is closed - and now well after 1pm, Victor has to navigate the empty (and perilous) downtown streets with Google Maps on his iPhone screen held up in his sightline as he drives. But we make it home to the delighted dogs, and by 2am we're in bed.

This Brazilian adventure may have started when I received a portable record player for my 14th birthday, along with money to buy one LP. I went to the record store in Hellerup, Copenhagen, where I lived. A wonderful jazzy tune was playing as I entered the store. I learnt it was Stan Getz and João Gilberto's 'Desafinado' on Verve and bought it - my very first 45, and a subtle entry to Brazil, where I would spend my life much later. Still in High School and familiar with the French cinema in vogue then, I watched "That Man from Rio" with a young Jean-Paul Belmondo and the fabulous and tragic François Dorleac, Catherine Denouve's older sister, who was killed in a car accident in 1967, when she was already a star and only 25. I retained an image of a chic party held at the MAM, the Museum of Modern Art in Rio, and of a muddy road being built in the Amazon forest. Once in Rio I had the good fortune to attend wonderful parties at the MAM, but I hadn't made it to the Amazon. It stayed a dream until Oswaldo, who's very good at these things, found an interesting lodge in the middle of the jungle. And the rest is history. We should maybe have done this trip when we were a little younger, but, as Victor says, it's good for you to get challenged at your age, and what remains is the beauty of the nature and all we learnt in our few days there, and how much we enjoyed experiencing this together.

The Manaus zoo (Wednesday, June 14)

We've heard about CIGS zoo in Manaus, where rescue animals are kept by the Brazilian Army's Instruction Center for Jungle War - Centro de Instrução de Guerra na Selva - and make sure to arrive early on a surprisingly cool drizzly day. We have the park pretty much to ourselves and see an impressive collection of animals held in the large open air area. Two giant anacondas or pythons lie curled up in a patch of water

A beautiful toucan reminds us of our Sam, who we recued when he was a baby, and who lived with us for 10 years

Some funny fluffy monkeys live on a small island

A very unhappy, but magnificent, leopard is stresswalking round and round in his enclosure, lips pulled back and panting. We later hear him roar his displeasure - a roar that fills the park

A pair of leopards chill on the roof of a shed in a large enclosure. A passing soldier informs us they were rescued together and never separated

We feel chills when we see the giant, and very still, alligator lying in the shade

We spend a while enjoying the sight of many colorful macaws flying around in a large aviary

- and are quite happy we did not meet any of these guys in the jungle

Returning to Manaus (Tuesday, June 13)

We're up early packing our much-used, sweated through clothes for the trip back to the city. We leave after breakfast and start the long way back gliding through the same dark waters, surrounded by the flooded trees, and even see a startled flock of birds

We retrace our steps to the landing, where the van is waiting, and then to the last boat, which will take us back across the meeting of the waters. It makes a stop at a floating dock, where there's an opportunity to catch and release a huge Piracuçu fish, several of which are kept in basins sunk into the river water. A small fish is tied to a stake, which is lowered to touch the water's surface, after which the fish jostle to catch the bait.

After this experience we head straight across the river and into the busy and dirty port area. We have definitely left the jungle behind. We're dropped at the lovely Juma Opera Hotel, where we enjoy a delicious lunch and share an artisanal Sá beer.

Then Oswaldo goes to shower, while I head out to buy us some clean clothes in a nearby shopping street. I'm walking again on the hot marble stones brought over from Italy and Spain, which surround the opera house. Later, refreshed from our showers and in new, clean clothes, we visit an interesting 'artesanato' store nearby, and make various purchases to bring home, and then finish the night with a drink overlooking the beautiful opera house.

Downtime in the Juma Lodge (Monday June 12)

We wake up to another beatiful sunrise, enjoyed from our balcony. We had expected there to be a lot of birdsong, but in fact, the most consistent sound track, day and night, is the croaking of many frogs - we never see one, but hear them all the time.

Today the members of our group who chose to sleep in the forest straggle in to breakfast, looking a little rumpled but happy to have had the experience. Apparently, sleeping in a hammock was a challenge, but the space was safe, protected by netting. When the day's plans are announced: to climb a tree using ropes in the morning, followed by fishing for piranhas in the afternoon, we feel we have reached the end of the programs appropriate for us and that we would like to return to Manaus for an extra day there. I manage to get our departure organized for the following morning, and learn that another lunch has been planned in the jungle, which gives us the chance to see where the intrepid group slept.

We while away the afternoon at the pool, taking a last look at the coastline and observing a boat arriving with building materials for a kitchen area under construction. We have learnt that all transport to this area is by boat, thus materials are brought down the river and back again in a certain pre-arranged sequence of stops. School children are picked up by boat starting with the furthest away very early in the morning and brought back in the afternoon in reverse order. This makes for long days for the children, and parents must make sure they have food and water for the duration, since often, apparently, the schools haven't received supplies. Even the hotel's laundry must be sent all the way to Manaus. The white towels and sheets cannot be washed in the dark river water and nothing dries in the humid atmosphere anyway.

Our guide Felipe gives a talk that night in the lodge's museum hut. He speaks surprisingly well, relaxed and spontaneous, sharing a lot of interesting information about the people, their customs and the fauna of the area, where he grew up. At the end, he passes around a a giant crocodile cranium. It reaches the arms of a recently arrived Italian lady, who mutters, "Mamma Mia," when she feels the weight of it. Back in our chalet, we have noticed an increasing amount of ants on the floor. We don't like to kill anything, but these ants unfortunately must die! Nonetheless, I have a feeling I've been bitten during the night, when I notice some itchy splotches on my skin. We are in the middle of the jungle after all.

The walk in the rainforest (Sunday June 11)

Today we're heading into the forest for an 'explanatory' walk, where Felipe will show us a variey of trees and explain their uses and properties. We've been told to wear long pants tucked into socks and boots, and in addition we're given special leg shields, to protect us from both ticks and snake bites.

The first part of the journey is in the boat, which glides over the still water, until we suddenly bump against the edge of the dense forest.

We all climb out and struggle up a bank covered in twisted roots and we're relieved when Joab, Felipe's collegue, hands us each walking stick he's just made from hacking off the leaves of a sturdy branch. Felipe warns us not to touch any tree trunks, which may be coveed in spines or hide snakes - he also says to walk lifting our feet rather than sliding them on the ground, which could startle a snake, "and then she bites," he says cheerfully. We ask him if he's ever been bitten, "Oh, yes," he says and then shows a big gouge on his arm where a crocodile took hold, but let him go.

The trees hold many secrets known to indiginous people, such as Felipe, who learnt them as a kid with walking through the forest with his dad. The sap of one has healing properties and can be used to treat a snake bite, the bark of another helps with respiratory problems. A deliciously scented bark, called a 'preciosa' (precious) is used, he explains, to 'calm the women'. Finally we see the innocent looking milky sap, known as curare, which the indians use for hunting, but is also employed for intubating patients. The trees also form natural sculptures, a parasite twisted around a tree trunk and the giant felled castanheira, whose roots could not hold its weight.

The vegetation is closing in around us on all sides and the heat and humidity are quite overwhelming. It is difficult to breathe and we're soaked through with sweat. "How long to the river?" I ask. As soon as we near the water the atmosphere changes considerably, and, once on the water, we relish the fresh breeze drying all our olive green dry-fit clothes.

- and admire the amazing reflected landscapes in the dark acidic Rio Negro.

We feel pretty done for the day, and after lunch we amble the 500 steps to our far away cabin and have our first Cayman sighting - a quiet ap. 2 meter long specimen with a yellow face and focused dark eyes. When we continue and round the last corner to our cabin we hear a rather frightful crunching sound. Turns out there's another, larger, Cayman chomping on a branch just beneath us.

After a rest we feel the wisest thing is to go to the (wire-mesh protected) pool and order caipivodkas. I teach the bartender to make one with pitaya (dragon fruit) and one with kiwi - both fruits are served at breakfast. Delicious!

Our first full day

We were supposed to wake up in time for a 5.30am sunrise trip, but wake up at 5.25 unable to join. Instead we sit on our veranda and see the most spectacular sunrise, all by ourselves, until it’s time for breakfast, which turns out to be lavish, featuring all kinds of fruits, juices, eggs, breads and cake. While we eat, Felipe outlines the day, which will be canoeing in the morning and in the afternoon a walk in the forest. There will also be a nocturnal boat ride to spot crocodiles.

Our group gets distributed between three rather fragile looking green canoes made of tree trunks. I look at this and decide to leave my iPhone in my backpack at the hotel. No photos. Off we go, crossing the river Juma, each with our oar, and soon we enter a magical landscape of shimmering dark water, reflecting the treetops above the water level. It is not much different from the landscape we saw when we came, but it is quiet and we hear the occasional bird call. We do not see any animals. It turns out we’ll be rowing for two hours and it doesn’t take long for Oswaldo’s legs to cramp - he’s sitting in the front - and my shoulders begin to ache. “I’m gettting to old for this,” he mutters, now at the longest point away from our hotel. We decide then that our afternoon is better spent at the dark floating pool with a caipivodka, and visiting a macaw and 2 parrots, which have been rescued by the hotel staff.By 8pm, when the nocturnal group is getting ready, we’re getting sleepy in our comfy cabin.

Heading into the jungle

At 7 am we’re in a van hurtling through Manaus with our traveling companions, a young German couple and a French business man. With us is our multilingual guide, Antonio/Anthony/Antoine who, skinny and with straggling long great hair, looks like a former rock musician and has many war stories.

First stop is a small harbor, where a long skiff with two rows of seats under a metal roof awaits us. We head out to cross the Amazon River (Solimas) and the Rio Negro to the famous “meeting of the waters”, where Antonios instructs us to trails a hand though the caramel and dark tea colored water, to sense the marked difference in temperature. “No piranhas,” he promises.

Next we enter a wetland, where the clumps of vegetation mirrored in the still, deep water, do no reveal they are fully grown trees. The depth is at least 6 meters and this is an area where big alligators and snakes live. As if on cue, I see a big snout emerge from the waters, to quickly disappear again.

After more than an hour we reach land, where a dark red bus is waiting to drive us to yet another, smaller boat. The last boat ride takes more than an hour, again though inundates areas and we arrive at the hotel at 11.30. There’s a lot going on there and the staff brusquely commands us to drop our bags in our room (which turns out to be rather far away) and to return as quickly as we can to get into another boat for a picnic lunch in the forest, followed by a visit to a caboclo home. We’re tired and overwhelmed, consent to the lunch, but insist on having to rest after that and explain we’ll set our own pace from now on.

We lounge at the pool, a floating dock set in the river, protected by a sturdy wire mesh, so you can bathe in the dark water without fearing a cayman joining you.

Dinner is a communal affair, where we meet people in our group and our indiginous guide, Felipe. Then we crash in our blissfully airconditioned hut set right on the river.