DAY 56: I woke up around three in the morning to the sound of a distant static. Gradually the white noise got closer and closer until it started pouring rain in camp. The wind blew out all the mosquito candles, leaving base camp completely dark. Perhaps it was best this way because it hid the fact that, when I woke up in the morning, I found a tarantula in my bed frame.

Juan and I were already out on the river by 6:30, a prime time for bird watching. I saw parakeets, kingfishers, turkey vultures, hummingbirds, herons and other birds either too far or too fast for my camera. After a while I gave up on trying to shoot wildlife -- an task that require too much patience on my part -- and just enjoyed the serenity of the beautiful Yanayacu (picture above) and its awe-inspiring trees that looked like works of art. A lot of times the serenrity was interrupted by the loud buzzing of huge walnut-sized bees that circled around the boat like Indy 500 racecars.

THE MONKEYS CAME BACK into camp when we arrived and I defended the fort while the crew radioed back to the boats to schedule my pick-up. Once a transport had been arranged, Juan suggested that I perform the final test of jungle survival: go out with the canoe without him.

"[Good luck. Be careful for anacondas,]" he said as he pushed me off the dock. It sounded like famous last words to me.

I paddled around the river and the creek, looking for anything I hadn't seen before. I saw birds and some harmless spiders, but other than that the trip was pretty uneventful. The excitement came when I got back to base camp and a monkey came towards me with a phillips head screwdriver -- until he dropped it and looked confused.

THE BOAT TRANSPORT CAME, dropping off six new clients, one of which was the only gringo among them, an Aussie. I told him what to expect and which bed had the tarantula in it, and he gave me the news that the U.S. Army had finally caught Saddam Hussein.

Juan and I took the motortaxi for the three hour trip back to Iquitos. Once back on the Amazon River, we were clear of the jungle canopy and saw that it was a bright sunny day. I reeked of the jungle; I hadn't showered in five days, and I smelled of vinegar-flavored yogurt gone bad if you can imagine that. If you want to get even more specific, add the smells of corn chips, rum, tea, coffee, Coke, bug spray, suntan lotion and salt to taste. Add a little piss too because I got a little on my pants when I peed off the back of the speeding boat. (When you gotta go, you gotta go.)

Needless to say, I needed a shower.

ONCE BACK IN IQUITOS Juan and I shared a mototaxi back to the office where I got my big bag back from Andres. While there, a 45-year-old Californian guy named David was trying to get information, and I highly recommended the place to him. He was glad to hear it from another tourist instead of a guide -- my looks may have initially fooled him, but my accent instilled some trust.

"Buy you a beer?" he offered, which I of course accepted. Don't you just love it when you go into the jungle and come back to have a beer waiting for you?

Later that night, I met up with him at Fitzcarraldo, the famous bar of which the 1982 movie of the same name was filmed. We sat over dinner and rounds of beer, talking about philosophies of travel and women. It was great to hear an American accent again and he felt likewise.

AT MY HOSTEL, I showered to get the stench off my skin, and then I showered again. While I was settling in, a guy knocked on my door to tell me to report to the desk. A mototaxi driver had followed me from the tour office and was trying to convince the desk attendant that he had recommended the hostel to me, trying to get a commission off of me. I explained that I had walked to the hostel from the office and that I already knew the place from the week before. He went away after we showed him my receipt.

I may have been back in the city, but it sure was a jungle out there.