Life at the Lodge: 8) 2018

I had a poor sleep on the night of the 27th-28th. My mind was structuring a blog in my head, and I felt compelled to get the thoughts out and onto paper (screen), but I think subconsciously, I was also quite excited to be reunited with Cassie.

After our water pump struggled to supply all our tanks – a sign that the river was getting low and we would need to move the pump further downstream at some point, we hopped in to our 4×4 to go and meet Mel, Ed, Cassie and co. Despite the shallow river, recent rains had made some of the local roads tricky to navigate, so we chose to go the long way around, for fear of getting stuck.

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Life at the Lodge: 6) Summit

The weather is noticeably different here now. It can change in a matter of minutes, with the wind picking up, the sky clouding over suddenly, and the heavens opening in a 10-minute torrential downpour that sends everyone running for cover. The temperature is also a lot cooler, and more than once I have found myself having to sleep under a sheet.

Despite these downpours, the river continues to sink lower and Manny is now advising that we should transfer guests by vehicle rather than by boat. Even that will bring its problems, however. The trails and “roads” are rapidly becoming overgrown by vegetation as the wilderness seeks to reclaim its land.

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Life at the Lodge: 4) Shantaram

As I passed through my fourth week at the Lodge, the lifestyle has started to become routine. So much so, that I struggle to tell what day of the week it is.

We do not really follow the weekly calendar here, because days are largely irrelevant. Whether it is Saturday, Monday, or Thursday, it makes no difference. You get up before dawn, ensure the water pump is feeding the tanks, take your breakfast surrounded by cats, and complete as much physical work as possible before the heat of the day makes it too much of a struggle.

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Life at the Lodge: 3) History

A week of no guests provided me with ample time to browse the various bookshelves around the Lodge and uncover the dated, and often torn, contents that had been quietly resting on the hardwood, busy collecting dust and bat droppings.

From flicking through the available publications, I was reminded of the rich history that both the Lodge and the region hold.

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Life at the Lodge: 1) Beginnings

It has been one week since I traded my flight to Panama City and some Central American travelling to leap unknowingly into the savannah of Guyana in the hope that a net will appear.

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