I didn't sleep well last night, too hot in my sleeping bag, too bothered by the loosely hanging mosquito net around me draping over my face like a shroud. I grimace when one of the guide wakes us around 6AM. We rise early, in order to finish our days walking before the daily afternoon rain in the jungle begins.
Mosquitos have the reputation, but it seems to be sand flies that are doing the most damage, the lower halves of my legs a dot to dot of blood spots from not putting on long trousers as soon as we arrived in camp yesterday.
After breakfast, we head off, edging nervously along thun lycen-slimed rock platforms high above above almost sheer vertical drops. The river roars threateningly below us, a stark reminder that getting to Ciudad Perdida is not a given. We cross the river four times, but my boots and socks are still dry at the end of the three hours of walking in which we stopped only for a dip in the river or a slice of pineapple.
We arrive at camp before midday, and after a quick lunch of luncheon meat, queso and rolls, relax under a waterfall flowing into the river beside our camp, enjoying the last of the sun before the predictable rain clouds start to gather. Our camp for this evening is one hour and 1200 steps from Ciudad Perdida. We will find the Lost City tomorrow.
