The village of Skala Eressos on Lesvos Island in Greece will host the 10th anniversary of the International Women’s Festival.

Your are invited you to Sappho’s birthplace and join us in these two week anniversary celebrations. Building  on the success and experience of previous festivals to offer a varied and balanced program reflecting the diverse interests of all women.

This community driven festival, in the birthplace of poet Sappho, has been envisioned, created and funded since the year 2000 by local travel agency, Sappho Travel, who are still an ongoing contributor to the promotion and development of activities by and for women, through presentation, practice and promotion of local and international exponents of education, literature, music, dance, film and art.

The annual two week festival provides the opportunity for local and international musicians, artists, performers, entertainers, scholars and  therapists to share in the practice, performance and appreciation of women’s talents in all its forms with enthusiasts of all ages.

The activities of the festival celebrate the diversity, literacy, philosophy and social justice from female participants and visitors from a variety of backgrounds and life experiences. It empowers women, their status, organizations and position in society in general through education, cultural expression and by means of their creativity.

In 10 years time, the festival has become of considerable importance to the economy of Skala Eressos, in that by organizing it, the tourist season in the village is extended for an extra month every year. This directly benefits all local businesses which rely on tourism as a source of income.

This festival is a celebration of YOU, and however you enjoy spending your time there will be something here for you. Events will include concerts, DJ sets, women only trips and boat cruises, theatrical performances, Greek dinner and dance events, open mike sessions, sports and competitions, art workshops and exhibitions, meditation and spirituality demonstrations and workshops as well as pampering and healing, alternative and traditional therapies.

Plenty of time is reserved for your typical holiday activities as well, such as sunbathing on the 3km unspoilt beach, swimming in the warm and turquoise Aegean Sea, exploring the beautiful countryside and discovering a wealth of fresh food in the many restaurants.

You can find booking and other information, including pictures and details of previous festivals, as well as this year’s program at www.womensfestival.eu.

We are still looking for artists, performers and participants, including volunteers so if you are interested in playing a part in this year’s anniversary festival please email us at womensfestival@sapphotravel.com with your ideas or offerings. We look forward to hearing from you, and to seeing you in September.

Come and celebrate this anniversary with us and treat yourself to a truly unforgettable holiday
Festival organizers Wendy Jansen & Ioanna Savva International Women’s Festival

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]]> http://www.womentravelblog.com/index.php/2010/03/lesvos-womens-festival/feed/ 0 http://www.womentravelblog.com/index.php/2010/03/journeys-of-discovery/ http://www.womentravelblog.com/index.php/2010/03/journeys-of-discovery/#comments Sat, 06 Mar 2010 01:23:18 +0000 Rosemary http://www.womentravelblog.com/?p=1168 In the network of Women Owned Travel businesses around the world, Gayle Lawrence’s Journeys of Discovery have always been out there and visible with a great range of trips that touch the soul.

I have just updated the Tour Calendar at Women Travel the World with her latest tours and what a choice there is:

• Meditation and service in Bhutan
• encounters with Humpback Whales in the Dominican Republic  (get in early for 2011 these sell out very fast!)
• Women’s Quest to Avalon in Britain
• A writing retreat in Mexico

As Gayle describes on her website, these tours are not for travel junkies, they are for those on a journey:

A Journey of Discovery is for the individual who is longing for deeper meaning and purpose in their life. Not only are they searching for an extraordinary travel experience but also a journey that speaks to their spirit and touchestheir soul. They are ready to find answers to their own “inner questions” and also open to learning and new experience. Whether it be with a Shaman in Peru, gazing into the eye of a dolphin, or a short group meditation at an ancient sacred site in Greece. All of these life-changing experiences made available to them within the contextof personalized small group, specialty travel that takes you off the beaten path.

Gayle’s tours for 2010 and 2011

Other Tours on Women Travel the World

The fossils of Lyme Regis in the south of England have been famous for over 2oo years. Along the dramatic Jurassic coast, you can wander (watch the tide!) and pick up the coiled ammonites, belemites and vertebrae from prehistoric creatures. After every storm the unstable cliffs reveal more treasures from a history written in fossilised form.

Lyme Regis is a quaint old fishing port between Weymouth and Exeter, right on the Devon-Dorset border. Houses cling to the steep roads leading to the sea. A long stone breakwater, termed the Cobb, curves out into the sea, a sight made famous and melancholy by the movie, The French Lieutenant’s Woman,(1981) starring Meryl Streep and Jeremy Irons. A poignant scene shows Meryl standing lonely and billowing in black, waiting in vain for the return of her man. Behind her the primness of Victorian society holds her at arm’s length.

Lyme Regis is famous for another woman, in the earlier 1800s, this time a young working class girl called Mary Anning. She collected fossils off the beach as a child, to then on-sell to day trippers from London. While she had an excellent eye for searching out fossils, it was not till she met up with an educated gentlewoman Elizabeth Philpot that her pecuniary interest in fossils had an impact on the merging science of geology. Mary Anning found the first ever ichthyosaur, which confounded scientists and theologians alike. These were the days when science was a man’s domain. The two ill-matched women had to use intelligence and manipulation to obtain both the money and the fame they deserved.

The story of Mary and Elizabeth, and their astonishing prehistoric discoveries, is beautifully told in a new book by Tracy Chevalier, Remarkable Creatures. (Chevalier also wrote The Girl with a Pearl Earring).

The South Coast of England is now a World Heritage site. There is a succession of beaches, and rocky coves, cliff paths and tiny villages all facing onto the English Channel. Famous names include Thomas Hardy (1840-1928) , T.E.Lawrence of Arabia and John Fowles , who not only wrote The Magus, and The French Lieutenant’s Woman, but lived in Lyme Regis and curated at the museum.

To follow the story of Mary Anning is to explore a charming, dramatic, historic part of England, perfect for walking, coastal landscapes. beach combing and fossil hunting.

Helen writes: It was like an itch that I had to scratch – this is how I like to describe the decision to start What to Wear on Holiday

whattowearonholiday.com

The idea came again and again every time I would be planning a trip. What to take to fit in? What to take to cover all my needs without coming back with lots of things unused only to have to wash them and put away? What would I need that I wouldn’t be able to buy there? I would call and email friends who I knew had been there to ask them and this could take hours and hours over days or weeks.

If I would find a resource like w2w useful maybe other people would too.

The great thing about travelling is that you meet amazing people and they helped me get the guide together, comparing notes, adding in extra notes or writing lots when there were places that they had travelled that I didn’t know. The website is a collaboration by people who love to travel.

Perhaps I’m a typical Sagittarian – I love to travel, I love to have lots of things on the go and can never sit still for long. I have had my own business since my early 20’s and at 52, I couldn’t imagine working for anyone else. The freedom to decide when and what I do is really important to me. I have recently opened a bar in Cape Verde as well as business interests in the USA and UK.

This year my son will be 18 and is off to university so it presents new opportunities for me too.
My advice learnt from my mum – is that you really can do ANYTHING …  if you want it enough.

by Brenda Barrie

In May 2009, I travelled from China to Nepal on a 26 day trip, so full of interest and contrasts that it seemed to last for months rather than days. First, we sampled views, made famous by traditional Chinese paintings, of the Karst landscape in the Guilin region of southern China. This included an enjoyable three hour boat trip on the Li River from Guilin to Yangshuo – a great place for touristy shopping. In the morning, we headed for the rice terraces of Long Ji. After about two hours, we left our bus in a car park and climbed a path to stay the night in a Dong style ‘village in the clouds’. This was a complete contrast to the hustle and bustle of Guilin and that afternoon we walked to the top of the hill, for stunning views over villages and water filled terraces glittering in the sun. The next three days were spent travelling through the hilly Dong and Miao minority areas of lush green tea plantations and ever present flooded rice terraces. We had time to visit several villages and also spent one night in a traditional Dong drum tower village.

The next phase of the journey started with a day travelling by train and road from Kaili to Yichang on the Yangtze River. I’ve always found it fascinating watching everyday life going on from the comfort of a railway carriage. The different landscapes and contrasts between rural and urban areas were very interesting. That evening we boarded the boat for our Yangtze Three Gorges cruise. The Victoria Star had great accommodation, delicious food and a very helpful and friendly crew who also provided nightly entertainment. In the morning, we had a close up look at the Three Gorges Dam – an amazing feat of engineering – then passed through the five locks of the dam, before going through the first of the three gorges. For the next two days we continued up the scenic river and left the boat for a couple of shore excursions. We reached Chongqing at night and disembarked after breakfast. We visited the Dazu Buddhist rock carvings, took a late afternoon stroll around the central square and had an opportunity to join the locals in their evening dances. Next day we got up close to the pandas at Chongqing zoo and sampled the local Sichuan cuisine. Then came the beginning of the most long-awaited part of the trip for me, as we commenced the highest rail journey in the world.

We boarded the train to Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, in the evening and spent that night and all the next day travelling northwards to Lanzhou, then heading west towards Qinghai Lake, which we passed while we were having dinner in the comfortable dining car. Late evening gave us tantalising glimpses of snow covered hills, looming behind sand dunes lining the edge of the lake. The next morning I woke in the grey light of pre dawn, to the soft hiss of oxygen being piped into our compartment. I peeked out the window and could hardly contain my excitement, as I saw the ghostly-looking snow covered hills of the Tibetan Plateau. The colours changed as the sun began to rise and my nose, or my camera, remained pressed against the window for the rest of that day. The line tracked south to reach its highest point of 5072m near the Tibetan border and late afternoon, just before we pulled into Lhasa station, we could see the Potala Palace perched on top of a rocky outcrop overlooking the city. There was no mistaking where we were!

Our comfortable hotel was in the Bakhor Tibetan district, and we were able to get a real feel of the place when we strolled to a local restaurant overlooking Bakhor square and the Jokhang Temple. In the morning we visited the Potala Palace, previous seat of the Dalai Lhama, for about three hours or so. In the thin air at 3650m, the steps of the Potala were not easy going, but with a few ‘camera stops’ were certainly not too hard either. I found it difficult to believe that I was actually there – somewhere I had dreamed of being since I read the book ‘Seven Years in Tibet’ about 49 years ago! We spent three nights in Lhasa, also visiting Deprung and Sera Monasteries and the Jokhang. There was time to stroll around, do a bit of shopping and be totally ‘gob-smacked’ at the co-ordinated music and fountain show in front of a flood-lit Potala – not exactly traditional!

Our last four days in Tibet were spent on the Friendship Highway to the Nepalese border. We crossed over the Yarlung Tsangpo River, which travels to the east of Tibet, then through deep mountainous gorges, until it is forced to change direction and flow back to the west through India as the Brahmaputra. We then headed for Gyantse, going past Yamdrok Lake and the Karo La pass at 4960m. We saw Gyantse Fort perched on a rock above the town, had lunch, and spent some time exploring the Kumbum Monastery (featured in the BBC documentary ‘A Year in Tibet’). We continued on to Shigatse at 3840m where we stayed two nights and visited the Tashilhunpo Monastery, the seat of the traditional Panchen Lhamas.

Our next stop was New Tingri, or Shegar, at 4300m. We travelled via the Langpa La pass at 5220m, catching a glimpse of Mount Everest behind light cloud in the distance. Walking in the village late afternoon, we were treated to a most unusual – to us anyway – display of rainbow-like colours shimmering in the otherwise dark blue sky between two clouds. We had a very early wake up call the next morning, about 4am, in order to get past some road works before the road was closed for the day. It was just beginning to get light when our guide pulled our vehicles over, pointed to the left and said “Everest”. Well, it was another unexpected ‘gob-smacking’ (I can’t think of a better way to describe it) moment! There before us was Everest floating above the mist in the valleys, and as we watched, the sun rose, giving Everest and the misty clouds above it a golden pinky hue. It was really magical – not even the very obvious electrical cables running down a side road could detract from it! Later, I realised that it was on this same date, 29th May, in 1953 that Hillary and Tenzing climbed Everest for the first time. They had also risen at 4 am on that day, but I think we had the easier time after that. We then continued towards the border, crossing the Thong La at 5120m, which was covered in snow and low cloud and freezing cold. The only colour was the array of prayer flags, which are on top of every pass.

Three hours later the scenery was the complete opposite. We were in the warm, tree covered gorge leading down to the ‘Friendship Bridge’ at the border. Our last night in Tibet was spent in Zhangmu, perched on the side of a steep hill, packed with trucks and cars. We were in Kathmandu, the Nepalese capital, by late afternoon the next day and spent the last three days of our trip exploring the sights, before flying out to Hong Kong and then home.

I have had quite a few overseas journeys in the last twenty years and think that this one would have to be very close to the top of my favourites list. I seemed to have a permanent smile on my face and even now, whenever I remember it, the smile comes back! Travelling with a small group of like-minded people is most enjoyable and I have now been on four trips with Silk Road Adventures run by Pat and Murray Reedy, to places such as China, Myanmar, Mongolia, Siberia, Iran and now Tibet and Nepal.

See more Flickr Photos of this trip

The idea of volunteering in another country has long been considered the province of students and recent graduates; images of intrepid twenty-year-old Peace Corps workers in a remote Sierra Leone village might spring to mind. Today, however, the idea has reached far beyond that to become accessible, and highly popular, among travelers of all types and ages. Volunteer travel has grown so popular that a term has even been coined for it: Voluntourism.

Foreign destinations are luring American citizens who want to sightsee, while at the same time engage in community service. Companies and websites specializing in voluntourism have sprung up by the hundreds, and volunteer vacations can be found in all parts of the world, doing all kinds of activities – from digging wells for clean water in South America, protecting the elephant population in South Africa, or working with children living in orphanages.

It was this last type of volunteer vacation that hooked me – in fact, inspired me to write a book about my experiences. In 2004, I became involved with a nonprofit based in Austin, Texas called The Miracle Foundation, which manages orphanages in India and recruits sponsors and donors to support the children living there. I began volunteering for the foundation and sponsored a child, a ten year old boy named Santosh, living in the state of Orissa in northeastern India. The founder of the organization, soon invited me to accompany her and a group of other volunteers to Orissa. And so it was that in March 2005, I found myself in India for the first time – a ten-day volunteer trip that I was to make, it turned out, many more times over the years since.

The village is remote, and it took forty-eight hours of exhausting travel to arrive at the ashram where the children live. By the time we arrived, all ten volunteers in the group were suffering from sleep deprivation and culture shock; the overwhelming throngs of people, the smells and sounds that awakened all the senses at once. The streets filled with bicycles, rickshaws, cars and cows with the constant, blaring beep-beep of the horns that rose above it all. Mostly, the frantic poverty that does not let you rest.

Caroline had briefed us well on both India and expectations for our week at the orphanage, but nothing could have prepared me for what I felt when we turned through those gates. Dozens of children were lined around the drive in a semi-circle, waving and chanting “welcome” over and over. I climbed out and they swarmed all over me, reaching for my hands and touching my feet in blessing. I was overwhelmed, lost in the sea of small bodies; smiling, barefoot children who asked nothing from me more than simply being there.

As I would soon come to find, in India these “invisible children” are everywhere – they fill the streets, the railway stations, the villages. Others have been trafficked or taken into indentured labor to pay off an old family debt. They are orphaned by AIDS and malaria, simple infections or sometimes, nothing more than poverty – their parents cannot afford to feed them. Many are homeless, overflowing orphanages and other institutional homes to live on the streets. Amidst the growing prosperity of India there is an entire generation of parentless children growing up, often forced into child labor and prostitution – more than twenty-five million in all.

But there in Choudwar, a small town about a hundred miles south of Calcutta, one man named Damodar Sahoo had dedicated his life to providing a home and family for some of these children. Before The Miracle Foundation, he had constantly lacked enough food, clothing and supplies to adequately provide for those he had taken in – children who had nowhere else to turn.

Mr. Sahoo, known to everyone simply as “Papa,” greeted the volunteers heartily, chewing the betel nut that turned his teeth red. He gave us a tour of the compound while the children trailed us, rushing past each other to claim a volunteer’s hand. They were everywhere, always underfoot, craving our attention. As I walked along four or five clung to each arm; when I sat down they filled my lap, their slight frames making barely an imprint against my skin.

I spent the following days just being with the kids, befriending them, playing with them. Our days at the ashram were filled with games, reading, dancing and laughing. It felt a lot like summer camp. There were puzzles, English flash cards, hopscotch, frisbee and the hokey-pokey, which the children wanted to do over and over once it was taught to them. I began to discover who they were – their individual personalities and dreams. I watched the shy ones come out of their shells and self-confidence blossom.

As it did, their “best behavior” fell away and they were normal kids, not always sweet and perfect but often mischievous as well. When they thought I wasn’t looking, they would shove each other out of the way or bestow thunks on one another’s heads in annoyance. They used the language barrier to their advantage, pretending at times not to understand when the adult volunteers said it was time to put a game away, reminding me of my daughter when she was young and seemingly deaf to the word “no.”

We began to make friends, and I discovered that they were just as curious about us and our lives as we were about them. The kids spoke varying levels of English, largely dependent on how many years they had been living in the ashram and attending school. Some had a large vocabulary and conversational skills; others spoke little more than a few words of English. I found it was surprisingly easy, however, to communicate without sharing even a word of common language.

In many ways they were just like other children I’ve known with homes and families of their own – except for their neediness, their raw hunger for affection, love, belonging. In the midst of the games, laughter and silliness that we engaged in all day long it became almost easy for me to forget that they were orphans. When that reality came crashing back it never failed to hurt my insides with the same breathless intensity as it had the first time. Especially when it intruded unexpectedly, as happened one afternoon.

Caroline and Papa had arranged an ice cream party. Two tables were pulled into the courtyard as the frozen cartons were delivered. The kids lined up eagerly from youngest to oldest to be handed their paper cups of ice cream as we scooped it out in a battle of time against the sun blazing overhead. As we served the icy treats and listened to the kids slurping away, I noticed that Santosh, the boy I sponsored, was nowhere to be seen. I asked some of the other boys about him, and they pointed toward the top of the stairs.

I went up and found him sitting alone, seeming sad and listless. He wasn’t interested in the ice cream. A house mother named Madhu passed, and I asked her to help me find out what was wrong; I was afraid Santosh was hurt, or sick. Madhu took him into the boys’ dorm and talked to him for several minutes.

“He misses his mother,” she said simply when she came back out.

I felt it in my heart, and knew that although they loved us being there it could sometimes only make them miss the presence of their own parents. The good of all these caring surrogate parent figures – Papa, Caroline, the house mothers, the volunteers – outweighed the heaviness of sorrow, to be sure. But it was easy to miss the sadness, at times, in the presence of love that filled the ashram. I was reminded anew that these children all carried secret grief and damage inside them, often hidden or temporarily forgotten but never erased entirely.

I sat with Santosh on the edge of the concrete walkway outside his dorm room. Draping my arm around his shoulders I squeezed reassuringly and held him against my side. I knew that his mother had died when he was so young he couldn’t possibly remember her, not really; but to mourn the idea of a mother, that huge absence in his life like a great gaping hole – that was another thing completely. We sat together, not speaking, while in the courtyard in front of us the other children slurped up their ice cream noisily.

Shelley Seale has written for National Geographic, The International Ecotourism Society and The Voluntourist, among others, and is a contributing author to The Voluntary Traveler. She is also the author of The Weight of Silence: Invisible Children of India, which tells the true stories of some of the inspiring children she met on her journeys through the orphanages, streets and slums of India.

The Weight of Silence: Invisible Children of India

The Voluntary Traveler

Buy the Book here: The Cuban Chronicles: A True Tale of Rascals, Rogues, and Romance

Some girls have all the fun. Calgarian writer Wanda St.Hilaire has taken her passion for travel, especially to Spanish speaking countries, and has given readers an opportunity to experience Cuba from an original and spirited perspective

In the infancy of Cuba’s tourism, Wanda St.Hilaire takes a trip to the tiny island. In spite of her love of all things Latin, she puts herself on a travel ban to Castro’s Cuba, one that lasts twenty years.

When she is forced to cancel a trip to Oaxaca, Mexico at the last minute, she finds herself in Cuba twice, on back-to-back trips. Walking into the backstreets of Havana, eyes wide open, she is pulled into a dalliance with a charismatic cubano.

In The Cuban Chronicles, St.Hilaire’s travelogue/memoir, she describes that underneath the façade of Cuba’s tourism lies the desperation of a society living mostly in abject poverty. When tourists mingle with locals, we get a glimpse of what underlies the frivolity of Cuban entanglements. St.Hilaire speaks with an authentic voice and doesn’t mince words; she recounts her own activities, emotions and opinions with refreshing honesty. The author is a natural storyteller and her vivid descriptions of people and her surroundings make Cuba come alive for the reader. Being an epistolary composition (the book is based on a series of letters to a friend in Paris), the author’s tone is warm and confidential, and peppered with touches of humor.

Think Eat, Pray, Love meets Bridget Jones’s Diary
with a dash of cayenne!

Wanda St.Hilaire supports her travel and writing habit by working as a reluctant sales and marketing representative. She spent four blissful winters away from the frozen landscape of Canada living in the barrios of Vallarta, Mexico, and she has traveled throughout the world. She lives in Calgary, Alberta.

What intrigued me most was the “Ayahuasca ceremony”. Ayahuasca is a Quechua word meaning “vine of the soul,” and is a powerful, vile-tasting drink made from a jungle vine. The shamans use it as way of unraveling the self, and it is supposed to be able to cure anything, from physical illness (like cancer) to psychological pain (depression) – or put simply, it is a good way to clean up any baggage, big or small, in your life… I felt like fate had thrown an unusual opportunity onto my path.

You have to be brave to take Ayahuasca because of what you may face. Visions, hallucinations and vomiting are all part of it – it cleans you from the inside out. But whether your experience after drinking Ayahuasca is scarey or not, depends on how many demons you have to purge out of your mind, body and soul. You may face all sorts of past trauma, self-destructive beliefs, or emotions. One thing is for sure though: the end result is always positive. Now I am not a kook, or a recreational drug-taker, but what convinced me to do it was a positive National Geographic article about Ayahuasca on the internet. It turned out to be the most mind-blowing, fascinating and beautiful experience of my life.

I had fasted all day to prepare myself for the ceremony that night. Myself, 3 shamans, and Angel my translator were seated on cushions, with vomit buckets in front of us. The shamans puffed away on jungle pipes, preparing themselves for the long night ahead. I was given a cup of Ayahuasca – disgusting, brown, fermenting sludge, which I gulped down very reluctantly. Lights were turned out and the shamans started to sing icaros (ancient spirit songs) to me. Their voices vibrated and reached high or low notes effortlessly, and each voice sounded like at least two people – truly beautiful to listen to, they sounded like angels. I could feel myself float off to another realm, their voices carrying me like a drifting feather to another world.

After about 20 minutes I vomited up the Ayahuasca, which is part of the bodily cleansing. In some strange way it felt good to get it out of me, all sorts of toxins seemed to come out. I started to have trouble breathing. I am not asthmatic, but have suffered odd stress-related breathing difficulty in the past couple of years. The shamans told me not worry, it would pass. It did. Twenty minutes later my lungs felt 10 times bigger and I was gulping deep breaths. Amazing.

Eventually I began to hallucinate, seeing fluorescent colours and cartoon-like insects swirling around me. I watched them, as they closed in on me, trying to suppress me, constricting my body. I wasn’t sure what to do, so I asked. I got the message back that it was negative energy attached to me, and to flick it off. I did, and it all disappeared. The shamans believe negative energies are actually spirits who attach themselves to you to create trouble.

Then the visions started. People and events came into my mind, things that had happened in my past that I needed to make peace with. In my mind I would ask questions – why this or that happened, why this person had been in my life. For every question I asked, I got a very clear, precise message back. It was like having a direct phoneline to God. Anything I asked about my past, present or future, I was advised on.

The whole ceremony lasted around 8 hours, with the shamans taking turns to sing to me as I worked though my past. I was visited my deceased friends, I found answers to many questions, and I felt an intense bliss. Now, several weeks later I still feel the positiveness and relief of old baggage gone. I feel privileged to have been part of an ancient ceremony and to have listened to the amazing, beautiful icaros, and I know I will go back to do another ceremony to open my mind to bigger things.

Keep an eye on Venus Adventures website for a future trip to Peru!!!

Julie Paterson Venus Adventures – Global Trips for Women who Love to Travel

Our Motto:  “Life is uncertain – eat cake!” Venus Adventures specializes in women-only holidays and short breaks to fascinating destinations:  Morocco, Egypt, India, Ethiopia,Turkey, Mali, Jordan, Vietnam, New Zealand

We were in Iquitos, where our trip had kicked off – an oddly large city set within the Amazon jungle, connected to the outside world only by boat or air – no road comes to Iquitos. A thin, long boat transported us 140km upstream to where we were to have our Amazon jungle experience. A twitchers paradise, we spotted many familiar birds on the banks along the way – terns, herons, king fishers and cormorants. It was exciting to be going into the wilds of the Amazonas and not know what lay before us.

Arriving at our eco-lodge, we had a delicious lunch, were given half hour to rest, before we were whisked into the nearby jungle with our jungle guide Moises, to see what creatures we might find. It is not easy to spot animals at the best of times with 5 noisey, gumbooted gringos behind you, but in the heat of the day the jungle is pretty quiet as most animals are resting.

And who can blame them, the heat was incredible, the humidity high, and we were all dripping with sweat. Siesta sounded like a good idea, but first we had to complete our 3 hour jungle march. We were rewarded with distant views of monkeys high in trees, as well as close views of the tiny pygmy marmoset monkey, darting around a mahogany tree and sucking on the sap. They are so cute! I so wanted to stick one on my finger, but we weren’t in the zoo. Oh well. We also saw a very large tarantula, fortunately high up in a tree. Moises said it was a rosey-haired one. As opposed to a pink-toed one. A tarantula with pink toes? That I had to see…

And we did – that night…when Moises dragged us out on our night hike to look for creepy crawlies in the dark…we found 2 pink-toed tarantulas sitting on palm trees, and at close range (ie, I could have stroked one if I was foolish enough). I would almost go as far as to say that a tarantula with pink toes is kinda cute.

However there was nothing cute about the piranha we went fishing for in a side-river the following day. Moises met us 5.45am for our next activity on the agenda of Jungle Boot Camp. Catching piranha. Me being a vego, I just took photos of the others folly, dipping their bait in the water off their bamboo rods, and trying to flick the piranha out of the water before he’d taken all the bait.

The fun part was watching everyone try and get those vicious little gnashers off the hook. With a dozen caught, we were allowed to go back to the lodge, where the piranha were cooked up by the chef for lunch. Jungle Boot Camp was turning into Fear Factor! I was assured by the others that the prinaha actually tasted ok, they just weren’t very meaty.

The heat was still a big issue for us, it just seems to sap all your gringo energy. That and the fact that we had activities before and after breakfast, lunch and dinner. No wonder we were pooped. All I wanted to do was strip off my long sleeves, long pants and gum boots and throw myself into the nearest river, piranhas or not.

Finally we got our chance when Moises took us by boat back into the main flow of the Rio Amazonas. No free lunch though, first we had to do an hours worth of fresh-water dolphin spotting. I could handle that. The wide, quiet, and very murky waters of the Amazon river revealed a couple of pink dolphins with unusually short dorsal fins, and also a couple of smaller grey dolphins. Awesome!

Then, finally our moment had come. Moises assured us that the brown colour of the Amazon was just silt and minerals from the snowy Andes mountains, and that swimming would be fine – like we needed convincing to get in? Splash! we were in being swept along by the current, loving the refreshing feeling. A boat came along with a Peruvian film crew on board – they had spotted a pod of five pink-faced tourists in the Amazon river and came over to get a shot.

It was time to go back to the lodge for our final yummy lunch, before our longish journey back to Iquitos. As we ate, the next lot of new “jungle campers” arrived with fresh smiles and clean gumboots. We smirked to each other as we knew what lay before them. Lunch over, hot and tired, we gladly boarded the boat home, enjoying the cooling breeze of the boat. Back in Iquitos, “Jungle Boot Camp”, was officially over…mmmh cool drinks and fans! But we had just spent three very full days in the Amazon jungle – how fantastic is that!

By Julie Paterson      Venus Adventures – Global Trips for Women

Their motto:  “Life is uncertain – eat cake!”
Venus Adventures specializes in women-only holidays and short breaks to fascinating destinations:   Morocco, Egypt, India, Ethiopia, Turkey, Mali, Jordan, Vietnam, New Zealand

One, which will be offered 3 times next year is a tour especially for women

No men – no limits – Women and Krakow

Women. Open minds, wide horizons. Fantasy and creativity. And that’s how your holiday should

Be as well – full of surprises and positive energy. Unique.

All-women meetings to share our thoughts, knowledge and experience. Best pubs with live music,

Cookery workshop, unusual and exciting sightseeing tours, Polish survival course…

This and much more is waiting for our ladies.

What a great opportunity to explore the city of Krakow with other women, I wish this year I was in Europe, I would definately be putting my name down for this tour.  More details