A bus to Brasília followed by a flight the next day and I was back in the heat and humidity of Manaus once again. As I touched down, I recalled the last thing I'd thought as I disembarked the boat that had originally carried me down the Amazon to this jungle city: 'There were some good points about that journey but I'm glad I never have to do it again!' Fate, however, had other plans for me. The reason I'd returned to Manaus was the arrival of my girlfriend from Venezuela accompanied by her friend. The idea was to get back on a boat and journey on the Amazon once more. On this occasion we would be going upstream which meant the time aboard would be almost double. Not a prospect I savoured but the price would be worth the reward.
After two day's drenching in the torrential rain of Manaus, we arrived at the dock with not much time to spare. The
Manuel Morteigo was similar to the
Sagrado Coração de Jesus which had brought
me downstream but, as we were late, there was hardly any room left. Somehow we managed to string up three hammocks next to each other, completely splitting a group of teenagers by placing our hammocks between, above and below them. They looked on mystified and in shock as a sweaty Gringo destroyed any plans they'd had of a comfortable journey. The bar of chocolate given as a peace offering seemed far from adequate. Once we were as settled as possible I looked round to see a scene resembling a São Paulo prison. Bodies everywhere. This would be a test for us all.
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