On the 14th, we flew to Tarapoto, and from there took the local tuk-tuk, called a mototaxi, to a gas station where lots of men were hanging around. One of them was the driver of a collectivo, a sedan which will make the drive to a given destination when it has four passengers, or their equivalent fare. We rode with one other passenger, choosing to pay more rather than cram a third person into the back seat with us and our things, which we were too mistrustful to put in the trunk. Pretty much everyone, from books to locals, agrees that your possessions are not safe in Peru, as sneak thievery and outright robbery abound, to say nothing of burglary.
From there, we drove for two hours to Yurimaguas. On the way, we were impressed by the beauty of the landscape, which as we passed the Cordillera Azul was full of cool highland rainforest, stunning green peaks against a blue and white sky. Later, the land was more agricultural, but still beautiful, and we were impressed by the fact that these poor farming communities were so much cleaner than anything we had seen in Asia. The buildings were remarkably similar – open-air wood houses on stilts, with thatched palm or tin roofs, often with no doors in the doorways and no screens in the windows. But there was no trash littering the area in front of the homes. The packed dirt looked quite carefully swept. The walls had little paint left, if they ever had any, but they seemed as though they had been scrubbed or brushed, with no stains or even rainspatter. It made me cheerful to see such a place. I imagine it is better off than rural Asia – we saw more than a few satellite dishes, and the street lights were both omnipresent and bright.
Not all was perfect, however – we were stopped on the highway at by a group of soldiers. Our driver, who had very good English, said that these men were not police, but that they patrolled the road. Previously, he said, there were bandits at this location, who would rob passerby. Instead, we simply gave these men with machine guns the few soles in change we had in our possession, and we were waived on our way. The thing is, if robbery is an issue, I think it quite reasonable for the police to establish a checkpoint, and to charge a toll for it. The informal nature of this one, though, of course gave me the willies.
Soon, we entered Yurimaguas and were driven to possibly the fanciest hotel in town, where the office of our tour agency was located. We talked with the man the owner had brought in to help with his business, an English speaker who had a lot of experience running touring companies and as a river guide on the other side of Pacaya Samiria, nearer to Iquitos. The man tried to up sell us a bit for more days in the reserve, but after mulling it over we decided to stick with our original plan – 8 days and 7 nights in the reserve. We also met the owner, a man who seemed more quiet at the time, but who I grew to like later over the next day’s boat ride. The fellows set us up in a good room, and we went to sleep, ready to embark the next morning on a river voyage to Lagunas, doorway to Pacaya Samiria.
– The Private Eye
The Professor and the Private Eye: Adventures Abroad 