Manu Biosphere Reserve: when the guide says "we don't know WHAT that is," you're most likely in for a treat.

Saturday morning we tried the macaw clay lick again. But first, a really nice sunrise:

The weather was beautiful and the clay lick was quite a different scene from just 24 hours earlier, but the birds were not interested in descending. Well, those birds weren't, anyway.

the Nescafe sucked as usual but the morning view wasn't too shabby

The list of new bird sighting continued to grow, some folks spotted a golden tegu lizard and we all saw what was possibly an olive whip snake. (It was definitely not the elusive Amazonian stick snake.) Heard but not seen: dusky titi monkeys.

green macaws

short crested flycatcher (I think?? darned cute, whatever it was)

I *did* take this one

It was tapir watch night so after lunch and a siesta we went for an hours' walk through the jungle to the mammal clay lick. Interesting sightings along the way included...

the jungle hellmouth

a cicada tunnel built over nine years by an insect that lives approximately one week

a cool monkey ladder

a "pregnant" palm tree

And ants. Tons and tons of bullet, army and leaf cutter ants.

leaf cutters - possibly the only ant species I could watch for hours and hours

The lodge has built a platform and laid out mosquito-net-tented mattresses above the clay lick, and the idea is that you lay there, wait for the tapir, pull up the net, lean out to take photos (flash is okay as tapirs are color blind) and head back to the lodge.

the long walk to the platform

inside the mosquito net

All this happens after dark. Of course there is no guarantee that the tapir will actually come and they certainly aren't on your clock so we were prepared to wait hours. The tapir's sense of smell is sensitive so bug spray and food were off limits after dark. People doze off waiting, but snoring is discouraged because it sounds like the tapir's only predator - the jaguar. All in all quite a unique experience.

A dwarf caimen greeted us from the pond under the clay lick and scurried away, returning again once we settled in. After about ten minutes under the net I couldn't take it so I opted to sit a ways down the platform where it was quiet and out in the open. The bugs were hardly biting thanks to the fruit-eating bats swooping around the platform (several times I felt the wind from their wings on my face - chevere). The stars were visible through the tree canopy and as it got darker and darker I practiced some seated yoga and enjoyed the fact that only these 10 people on the platform knew where I was at that very moment. Presence. It was nice.

About 90 minutes later I started to hear breathing from the forest, two loud breaths at a time followed by a few moments or minutes of silence, then two loud breaths again. The guide had said we would hear the tapir enter the water under the clay lick but he hadn't said anthing about heavy breathing... But figuring, "it sounds big and it's near the lick, what else could it be?", and hearing some whispers between the guides, I started to inch my way in the dark toward them to see what I could see.

This is when our guide said he didn't know what it was... And here's where it gets a bit surreal. They also said that they thought it could be a jaguar. It definitely wasn't a tapir, which left very few alternatives. They moved quietly around the platform with flashlights trying to find the source through the trees, while I stood there marvelling at the fact that now 10 people and maybe a jaguar knew where I was at that moment.

Rain loomed (and the guides appeared a bit concerned about the mystery animal - they didn't buy my Sasquatch suggestion either) so we moved out and hiked back to the lodge. On the way back we saw rain frogs (Amazonian and Peruvian) and pale striped poison dart frogs; orb weaver, wandering and wolf spiders; and Amazonian tarantulas and black scorpions.

Peruvian rain frog (a.k.a. foreshadowing)

wandering spider (as big as my hand, if not my foot - I didn't really get too close)

pale-striped poison dart frog

No tapirs, alas, but still quite an intense and amazing experience... I have not captured it well in words but it was a rush that made it definitely difficult to sleep that night. Perhaps a haiku is in order. I'll work on that.

The rain frogs predicted right - it did start to rain as we headed back to the lodge. And natch, the next morning Vanessa, the area's rescue tapir, "unexpectedly" wandered into the lodge garden around 6am... so we did see a tapir after all!