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Five countries (and four languages)..….in two weeks!

Posted 4th March 2013

If we wanted to get to Venezuela from French Guiana, we had to retrace our earlier route through Suriname and Guyana. Guyana and Venezuela, despite being neighbours, have a history of mutual antipathy (Venezuela claims nearly two-thirds of Guyana as part of its territory) and there are no bridges, roads, or even tracks joining the two. So we had to drive south almost the length of Guyana to cross into northernmost Brasil, before turning back north to enter Venezuela. Fortunately, all this took us through the best forest and savanna birding areas of Guyana, some excellent (and very rarely visited) birding areas of the state of Roraima in northern Brasil, and then straight onto La Gran Sabana, one of the best areas for both birds and scenery in Venezuela.

During this dash - by our tortoise-like standards - through parts of five countries, the news via email about the health of Anne’s mom was not encouraging, and shortly after we got into Venezuela, Anne chose to return to California for a short visit. Thanks to fellow overlanders we had a good tip about a great place to park long-term near Cuidad Bolivar, which is where Jon was based for the second half of February. Indeed Anne returns tomorrow, and we pick up where we left off on La Gran Sabana, with a planned climb up the tallest of the Venezuelan tepuis, Cerro Roraima.

By now we’re old hands at river crossings in northern South America. We had arrived on the Suriname side of the Corentyne River the evening before, where the tiny military contingent had invited us to camp next to their building (and even use their shower facilities!). So of course the next morning we were first on the ferry. In theory that should mean you would be first off into Guyana, but in classic Guyanese fashion pedestrian passengers are let off first, creating moderate chaos when the ferry ramp was lowered.

This time through we only stopped In Georgetown briefly one night, and quickly got onto the Lethem road, which traverses most of the length of Guyana. For long sections on either side of the Essequibo River it is a single track through lovely forest. On the northern section of the track (east of the river) it goes through a vast logging concession, which ironically has probably kept more of the forest in good condition than many of the alternative uses. Southward (west of the river) there is a large reserve preserving much of the forest.

We reached the beautiful setting of the Essequibo River shortly before dusk, and we were the only vehicle on the last westbound trip the barge was taking that evening. Soni the garrulous welder, on the right of the photo, was still putting some finishing touches to patching the barge as we drive on.

Given the time of day we decided to camp on the west bank of the river, and watched the last eastbound trip by the barge promptly get stuck on a sandbank. By moving the vehicles around they were able to get off after about 20 minutes. That excitement over, the area was very peaceful, we washed in the river, and enjoyed some good birding, seeing our first Black-collared Swallows flying around near the ferry.

What a contrast the following morning. A dozen or more vehicles started lining up on both banks well before 0600. Overnight minibuses carrying people along this main artery of Guyana had to make sure that they were on the first ferries of the morning in order to get to either Georgetown or Lethem as soon as possible. In true Latin American fashion the minibuses at the front of the arriving barge already had their engines running and lights on, ready to hurtle off, long before the ferry has actually landed.

Jon celebrates our most fortuitous sighting of the entire journey (which has of course been full of very fortuitous sightings). As we were driving along the road south from the Essequibo crossing, he had spotted a fruitcrow fly across the road 100m in front of us. Assuming it would be a common species, but perhaps subconsciously thinking it looked different, we stopped to check it, found it perched (in the trees on the left side of this photo) and to our amazement saw that it was a stunning male Crimson Fruitcrow! One of the hardest endemic birds to see in the Guianas, the chances of finding one even in several days of solid birding in the forests of Guyana are slim, so the odds of seeing one while driving through the forest on our only day in this area were very close to (but evidently not quite actually) zero. Hence our excitement.

Driving south through Guyana you suddenly break out of tall rainforest and into the vast Rupununi savanna. Of course it is home to a completely different set of birds, including the incomparable Sun Parakeet (which we subsequently saw over the border in Brasil). 

After more than five months, we finally left the three Guianas, and crossed back into Brasil. Here we pass over the Rio Branco, a tributary of the Amazon, with the city of Boa Vista on its bank. After months in much smaller places, a moderate-sized Brasilian city was a bit of a shock to the system, but we enjoyed the frontier feel of the place.

The lovely Rio Uraricuera north of Boa Vista, the upstream extension of the Rio Branco. The seasonally flooded thorny scrub and gallery forest in the foreground is home to two species of bird found only on the upper Rio Branco watershed, Rio Branco Antbird, and the beautiful Hoary-throated Spinetail, both of which were very common right at our campsite. Yet again the campsite and the birding were so good that we stayed longer than intended.

And finally on into Venezuela, and up onto La Gran Sabana, and at 1400m elevation, our first taste of cool weather in some eight months (and by cool we mean below about 75ᵒF/24ᵒC!).

You can tell we have been on the road a lot when events like the above are worthy of a photograph!

French Guiana III

Posted 23rd January 2013

We couldn’t resist just one more posting from French Guiana (Guyane), as we have enjoyed our time here so much and are somewhat sad to see it come to an end. This update includes a bit about perhaps the most important part of the history of this French Departement, as well as a final taste of the excellent birding it offers. Things move very slowly in Guyane, and we decided to continue traveling - which was always our Plan A - rather than wait yet more months to complete a deal for selling our rig. So Venezuela beckons (via Suriname, Guyana, and Brazil!), and we leave tomorrow. 

Many people only know of French Guiana (Guyane) as the setting for the famous book and movie Papillon. This overseas French departement’s function as a penal colony is certainly its most significant role in history. In a move similar to the British approach to Australia, in 1850 Napolean Bonaparte announced the foundation of a penal colony in Guyane and his intention to “make hard labour more effective, less moralistic, less expensive, and above all more humane by using it to develop French colonies.” The first convicts arrived on the offshore islands of Iles de Salut two years later. The islands continued to host convicts, but within a few years, it was clear that more extensive facilities were needed and in 1858 Saint-Laurent du Maroni was inaugurated as the first city devoted to “transportation”. The photo above shows the entrance gate to the Camp de la Transportation where the convicts were housed.

A total of 67,000 convicts passed through the Saint-Laurent Camp between 1858 and its closure in 1946. The photo above shows some of the cell blocks, which could house 3,000 convicts at a time. The lower photo shows the building that housed the kitchen, chapel, and “anthropometry room”, where each convict was photographed, measured, identified, and assigned a roll number upon arrival. Despite Napolean’s claim of humane treatment, conditions at the Guyane penal settlements (particularly on the Iles de Salut) were very difficult, and almost half of the convicts perished. In the early 20th century, negative publicity and public outcry grew in France, where the system came to be known as the “dry guillotine” and is now a source of public shame. In 1938 the French government finally declared operation of the penal settlements would cease, but the actual closure was delayed by World War II, and the last convicts were not returned to France until 1953.

We were keen to have a quiet place to spend the Christmas holiday, so we returned to our favorite Guyane birding site accessible by road: the Piste de la Crique Dardanelles (Montagne de Fer in our previous post). We have visited this site three times for a total of nearly two weeks. It is an ideal situation for us, as we’ve been able to park and camp at various places along the 30-kilometre dirt track and it is great for birding because it is so lightly travelled. On our previous visit we remarkably had a Harpy Eagle fly across the road in front of us and perch in a tree less than 100 meters away, allowing us to watch it for over ten minutes! When we arrived over Christmas, we were initially frustrated to find a large tree had come down across the road about 12 kilometers in, as we were keen to spend several days at an excellent campsite we had previously found at the end of the road. Instead, we parked up just short of the treefall in the spot pictured above (the photo was taken on Christmas Day). But our disappointment quickly turned to appreciation as over the next few days birding along the road beyond the treefall we finally caught up with several key Guianan endemics we had failed to find in many weeks of birding in the Guianas – Blue-cheeked Parrot, Red-billed Woodcreeper, Black-throated Antshrike, and Glossy-backed Becard. At night we found that our camp was surrounded by a lek of very vocal and active Blackish Nightjars, one of which we relocated by day (below).

The only disappointment of the area is that some large trees are being actively felled for lumber (see below). There is evidence that the area has been selectively logged in the past, so hopefully the rich birdlife is an indication that the logging is not having too much of a negative effect.

On one of our passages between Cayenne and western Guyane we stopped to see the church in Iracoubo. It is not an impressive structure from the outside (above) but is truly spectacular on the inside (below). The simple wooden interior was painted entirely by hand by a convict named Huguet in the 1890s. 

For our penultimate night at the marina at Degrad des Cannes, where we have been based for most of our time in Guyane, we had a "British Tea Party" to say farewell to some of our many friends there. Pictured above, Anne is baking scones in the galley aboard the Stella Maris, where our friends Gary and Angela kindly hosted the get-together. In the foreground, Gary is looking especially happy at the first plate of scones to emerge from their newly fitted oven! Part of post-scone wreckage below, from left to right: Anne (US), Jon (English), Edi (Spanish), Sara and Claudia (French), Arvin (Armenian Iranian) with Angelo (son of Edi and Claudia) on his lap, and Gary (Zimbabwean). The photo was taken by Angela (Welsh).

Suriname and Guyana

Posted 24th December 2012

Having spent much longer in French Guiana than anticipated, in early November we finally made our way west to the other Guianas – Suriname and Guyana. Both were very interesting in their own rights and it was fascinating to see the differences between the three.

After taking a ferry across the border river to Suriname, we headed straight to the capital, Paramaribo, and were very happy to find a good base camp at Fort Zeelandia (above), right on the riverfront and adjacent to the town center. Despite its urban setting, there were plenty of lovely shade trees, it was quiet overnight, and we always felt very secure as it was right next to the president’s office with 24-hour military security. In the photo there are two policemen sitting on “our” bench admiring the truck! The fort site has a long and varied history of foreign use, which started with construction of a Dutch trading post in 1612. Though actively used as a fort at various times by the French and British, the site was not an effective military defence and was sacked repeatedly.  As with so many parts of this coast, Suriname changed hands between the Dutch, British and French several times during the course of the 17th Century. Between 1650 and 1667 it was a British colony named “Surreyham”, Surrey being a county in southern England (the one in which Jon grew up, oddly enough), which was corrupted to the name Suriname. It is hard to imagine a more tangential way for a country to get a (thoroughly inappropriate) name.

Little did we know that the day we arrived in Suriname – a country where some 30% of the population is Hindustani – was the first day of Diwali. Known as the "festival of lights," this five-day celebration is one of the most important Hindu festivals of the year.  The name Diwali translates into “row of lamps” and involves the lighting of small clay lamps filled with oil to signify the triumph of good over evil. The most significant spiritual meaning behind Diwali is awareness and celebration of the "inner light". On the first night of Diwali we enjoyed a crowded public celebration in the central plaza of downtown Paramaribo. We were treated to a visual spectacle, including a continuous series of dancing troupes on the main stage, ranging from small kids to very professional groups, all of which were very entertaining. Some of the routines were very high quality and of a Bollywood-style, like the one shown above.

The greatest visual spectacle came at the start of a dramatic presentation when the Hindu deity Hanuman was transported to the stage area via crane. Above you can see him hanging at least a hundred feet in the air with the Presidential Palace (under renovation) in the background, and below is a close-up as he made his way through the packed crowd after the performance. We were also very lucky to be invited for a delicious meal at the home of a local family in celebration of the final night of Diwali. On our first day in Suriname we had met Kevin Jacobson, a Lutheran pastor from Minnesota who has been serving in Suriname for five years, and we joined him for dinner at the home of his good friend Ashwin. Yet another example of the amazing kindness and generosity we have experienced on these travels. A couple of weeks later Kevin even had us over to his house for a delicious Thanksgiving dinner.

The traditional wooden Dutch-era architecture of downtown Paramaribo is listed as a UN World Heritage Site, and for good reason. Much of it has been maintained in (or restored to) excellent condition and is very attractive. Above is a picture of a typical street in the city center.

Aside from its excellent wildlife watching, the quality of Suriname that we enjoyed most was its remarkable ethnic and religious diversity, especially for such a small country (with a population of about half-a-million people). Although the country has had its share of tensions between groups, based on our discussions with residents, reading, and own observations, they seem to coexist as well as in any country we know. This is perhaps best symbolized by the above image. The country’s principal synagogue and mosque, each an impressive building in its own right, are next door to one another in downtown Paramaribo.

With the catchy name of the Prof. Dr. Ir. W. J. van Blommestein Lake, it is hardly surprising that locals call it Brokopondo Lake. Above is the view from our campsite at the Brownsberg Natuurpark, an excellent reserve built on top of a small tepui (ancient mountain) that overlooks the lake. The massive 1560 square-kilometre lake resulted from the 1964 damming of the Suriname River. The Afobaka Hydroelectric Dam provided electricity for the smelters of the Suriname Aluminium Company (bauxite, the raw material for aluminium, is abundant in Suriname, and a massive source of revenue for the state). Five thousand human inhabitants of the flooded region were relocated by the project. The smelters are now closed, and although the electricity produced is now diverted to Paramaribo, it was rather depressing to consider how superb this vast area of forest once was, in its own right and for the resident indigenous peoples, for such a short-term gain of hydroelectric power.

The birds and mammals were superb in the reserve, and having originally planned to stay a couple of days, we finally left six days later! Having had no hunting pressure since the lake was created, the density of animals was very high in this reserve. We had great observations of many good birds, Mountain Lion, and many  monkeys including two excellent species of saki monkeys, one of which was the rare Brown-bearded Saki. Below is a female Guianan Toucanet, photographed in the tree next to our campsite. Although we had seen this species well in French Guiana also, this was typical of the quality of views of many species that we had at Brownsberg, most within a few hundred metres of our camp.

We had to stage at Nickerie, Suriname’s second largest town, as it is situated on the river that forms border with Guyana. At the suggestion of Pastor Jacobson, we stopped at a wonderful orphanage near the edge of town, the “Olga Clarck Kinderhuis”. The managers Giliano and Rachel were extremely welcoming, and let us camp on the orphanage lawn. The boys invited Jon to join their game of cricket in the evening (he is “wicket”-keeping in the image above). For a bat we used a small plank of wood, and the wicket was an upturned bucket.  (On our return journey we stopped there again overnight, dropping off some proper kids cricket gear that we had bought in Guyana, among other things, for the orphanage.)

Above is the somewhat dilapidated city hall of Georgetown, capital of Guyana. Constructed almost entirely from local timber, the structure was officially opened in 1889 and amazingly continues to function as the city’s administrative center. Frankly it looked bizarrely like something out of a Disney fairytale. Georgetown’s architecture and infrastructure is in dire need of renovation but we saw no evidence of any such public projects and the city had an overall feel of economic desperation. It seemed the government was largely trying to make do with the physical state of things as they had been when full independence from Britain was gained in 1966.

Saint George’s Cathedral (above) is reputedly the world’s tallest wooden building. The partially completed structure was opened in 1892 and the finished work consecrated two years later. It is a remarkable structure up close, but the grandeur is somewhat diminished by the residential and commercial buildings and associated power and telephone lines crammed in around it.

The riverfront Stabroek Market (above) dates back to 1792 and continues to be a bustling center of activity. The iron building and clock tower that now occupy the site were constructed by the British in 1880. It was intended to serve as the main railway station, but the accompanying rail system was never built. Prior to abolition, the market’s primary function was for unloading and sale of the many slaves brought to these shores.

Unfortunately, our most lasting impression of Georgetown may be the unbelievable amount of rubbish and debris. The city was built at the mouth of a large river (13 feet below sea level) and continues to be “drained” by a canal system constructed by the Dutch, prior to Guyana becoming a British colony in the late 1700s. As a result, every street is bordered by an open water-filled ditch, most of which were completely clogged with plastic bottles, Styrofoam containers, and other discarded items, and had the characteristic odour of sewage. The picture above is of one of the less fetid canals but gives a general impression of the atmosphere. Although we were a bit dismayed by the apparently poor state of the city, we found Georgetown very interesting and were glad to have had an opportunity to spend some time there.

French Guiana II

Posted 1st December 2012

We had originally planned to be in French Guiana (Guyane) for a couple of weeks; more than two months later we were still there! Clearly one of the great advantages of true overlanding is great flexibility in time and space. We did a lot of birding in the first month, then after our second trip to Montagne de Kaw, we both needed a couple of days to recover from minor (but different) strange and unidentified skin ailments. Coincidentally, a minor foot problem that Jon had dating back to an (also unidentified) tropical disease picked up in the Philippines some eight years ago chose this time to deteriorate, and we decided that this might be the time and place to get something done about it.

Predictably, the French public health system proved to be excellent, fast, and almost free, so this was the right decision. (Our US readers might be interested to know that five hospital visits, including the surgery, came to under US$100, without health insurance coverage [our expensive travel insurance excluded the specific problem Jon had]. The doctor nearly scheduled the surgery for the same day as the consultation, but opted instead for the following day. More proof, if needed, of the crazy “socialism” of those wacky Europeans.)

During this extended period in Guyane we received so many comments about our truck, and with vehicle prices being so much higher here in what is functionally Europe, that we decided to test the water and placed a  couple of “A vendre” signs in the window. We also realized that the paperwork transfer would be particularly easy in Guyane, as it is the only territory in Latin America that doesn’t issue a temporary import permit for a foreign-licensed vehicle.

We decided that we wouldn’t sell until December of January after we had traveled in Suriname and Guyana however. Even with this caveat, for such a superb vehicle needless to say we had a great deal of interest. This has ultimately led to a couple of concrete offers to buy at prices higher than we would ever get elsewhere in South America or back in the USA.

Jon’s view for ten continuous days from the back of our camper, while under strict instructions from Nurse Anne that he had to keep his recently-operated toe up on the couch. With (seemingly) free electricity, showers and water, plus a great community of fellow travelers, our spot at the Degrad des Cannes marina near Cayenne has been (by a huge margin) the single campsite we have spent the most time on our entire Latin American journey.

One of the commonest birds at the marina is Rufous Crab Hawk, which is nearly endemic to the coastal fringe of the Guianas. Every day we were able to watch at least one individual hunting on the receding tide. It would watch for crabs from its favoured lamppost perch and drop to the exposed mud when an unsuspecting crab ventured far enough from cover. Note its disproportionately thick legs and feet for handling feisty crabs.

The winding road from the marina to the mouth of the river and along the coast to the outskirts of Cayenne - the Rue des Plages - is very scenic. This is the view from one of our favorite spots to stop and enjoy the shade on our way into town. The only drawback of the Guyane seafront is that the water along the shoreline is heavily laden with sediment and very unappealing for swimming, but it’s still a nice place to relax.

Every Sunday afternoon a group of folks from the resident and visiting sailboats plays the traditional French game of petanque (also known as boules) in the carpark.  Jon has become a regular at the petanque matches on Sundays when we are at the marina. We never quite know who will show up from one week to the next, but a popular teaming has the Francophones (French & Swiss) versus the World (anyone else). It is great fun and easy going, although with plenty of trash talk in three or more languages! The World team has won for several weeks in a row, and we take much delight in pointing out that the French are losing at their own national game. From left to right, Laurent (French), Jon, Rosa (Brasilian, with baby Naomi), Claudia (French), Gary (Zimbabwean), and Laurent (Swiss, bowling). On this Sunday, Jon, Rosa, and Gary made up the winning World team.

In early November, we finally pulled ourselves away from the Cayenne area and made our way to western Guyane. Before crossing the river to Suriname we spent several days birding a couple of sites near Saint Laurent de Maroni. One of these sites was a minor dirt road to the Montagne de Fer, where we enjoyed this excellent campsite on a small creek. The site was most notable for an amazing experience we had one morning when we found a fruiting tree. Within an approximately 15-minute period we had at least eight males of three stunning species of cotinga (Spangled, Purple-breasted, and Pompadour) in the same tree!

While birding near Awala-Yalimapo in the extreme northwest corner of Guyane we came upon two Amerindian boys trapping finches with a mist net. This is obviously not something we like to see, but economic opportunities for the indigenous peoples of the Guianas are limited. It is very popular for men of various ethnic backgrounds in the towns and cities of the Guianas to have a finch and carry it everywhere with them in a small cage, so catching and selling finches can be a good source of income. Most of the captive birds we have seen are of relatively common species, but it is not unusual to see Large-billed and Great-billed seedfinches, the latter of which is sadly very rare and difficult to find in the wild now.

French Guiana I

Posted 8th October 2012

After seven months, we finally departed Brazil on 29th August. This lovely bridge spanning the Oyapoque River became the first road connection between any of the Guyanas and the rest of South America. Technically it connects the northern Brazilian state of Amapa with Europe, as French Guiana (Guyane, in French) is not an independent country but rather a departement of France and therefore part of Europe. Unfortunately, due to Brazilian indifference to the huge number of undocumented Brazilians entering Guyane, France and Brazil aren’t getting along too well these days, so despite being completed almost six months ago, the bridge has yet to open. The sleepy Brasilian town of Oyapoque from which we departed is visible in the distance. We had to cross the river the old-fashioned way, on a small barge. We are reversing off and into France below, with our friends Aurelie and Hyane (who we had first met in Belem) in their van ahead of us.

We have greatly enjoyed getting to know our way around the capital, Cayenne. It has a very comfortable small-town atmosphere despite being the only city in Guyane. Downtown is centered around the large grassy plaza Les Palmistes (above) and many old wooden buildings, like that pictured below, still stand along the adjacent streets, giving a vaguely New Orleans flavour. Although the city has a reputation for being dangerous at night due to drug use and associated crimes, it is a lovely place to spend the day.

There are no campgrounds and no truck stops in all of Guyane, so we were unsure how easy it would be for us to find good places to park for the night, particularly near Cayenne. Fortunately we had learned from other overlanders that it is possible to stay at a marina on the river about 15 kilometers south-east of the city. This proved to be an interesting spot with lots of activity (and surprisingly good birding). There are about twenty boats onsite, some unoccupied but most lived in full-time by residents or travelling boaters. Most folks are just passing through but they seem to stop here for long periods. The French may take the opportunity to get a job for a while, others have work done on their boats, and some just rest up before moving on. It is certainly an eclectic bunch. The attraction (for them and us) is that no one seems to mind if you stay and use the seemingly free facilities. So, the marina has become a bit of a home for us and we’ve spent many of our nights in Guyane parked there. Noteworthy birds that we have seen regularly here include Rufous Crab Hawk, Rufous-necked Wood Rail, and Wing-barred Seedeater. Above is the view from our “bedroom” window at sunrise.

We have made several short birding trips away from Cayenne, but there are very few roads, so it is impossible to penetrate far inland except by boat or ‘plane. We decided to fly to the remote community of Saul, almost exactly in the middle of Guyane, and unusual for the Guyanas in that it is not on a river. It proved to be an incredible place, and we enjoyed eight wonderful days there, hiking 15+km every day and birding almost non-stop in the daylight hours. Not long after you leave the Cayenne airport, almost all sign of people evaporates and all you can see is forest to the horizon. The picture above is of the forest near Saul as we were coming down to land. The airstrip is literally cut into the forest. Below is the “airport” building with the afternoon flight readying for departure in the foreground.

Upon arrival, one of the first things we noticed was this sign that says it is prohibited to hang hammocks in the “terminal”! This gives some insight into the laidback nature of the place.

Saul is a tiny village of private homes, tourist accomodation, and government buildings (like the mayor’s office above; note both the French and EU flags flying!). Only about 70 people live there and it’s difficult to know what any of them do, except those that cater to the few tourists that come through. It’s a very sleepy village, with no businesses and little activity at all. We were perplexed about how folks get their supplies, given the total lack of shops. The only business activity evident was a small lumber mill at the Hmong settlement (about 2,000 Hmong refugees from Laos were resettled in French Guiana in the 1970s). The Hmong in Guyane are a remarkable success story and are now responsible for literally all of the domestic agricultural production, which was no-existent before their arrival.

The only reason a community would develop in the forest without a nearby river in this part of the world is because of gold. The sign above, that we found almost completely enveloped by forest, points out an historic gold mining area from 1950. Saul had become sufficiently established that even after productive panning ended some 60 years ago, the village remained. The surging gold price has seen many of these areas revisited in recent years by garimpeiros, clandestine gold miners, almost exclusively undocumented immigrants from Brasil. They also have to survive in the forest, which usually means hunting the large birds and mammals of the area for food. Until three years ago Saul had virtually become a Brasilian enclave, but then the French sent in the gendarmerie, and Saul is now a forward operating base for a handful of military police. We were told that the garimpeiros are now simply 20-30km away from the village, just beyond the reach of the patrols.

The view from the balcony of our room, during a thunderstorm (above) and five minutes later (below). We could see most of the village from here, and it proved to be an excellent birding vantage point too. Even in the heart of the “dry” season, we had brief but intensive tropical storms on half our evenings in Saul, but we were never rained on when birding.

We met Unda, a German-French lady, and her donkey Nimbus, on a forest trail on our last morning. Having lived around Saul for over 20 years, she was suitably eccentric, and when she learned of our interests in animals and all things environmental, we got on famously. We learned that the rifle slung over her shoulder was there to discourage unwanted attention from garimpeiros that she may encounter on her wanderings.

Back in the village, Unda kindly invited us over, and we spent our last couple of hours in Saul chatting over cups of green tea in her house. In a tiny village like Saul, and as Nimbus was the only donkey for hundreds of kilometres around, finding Unda’s residence was not a challenge as he brayed from the yard. Her house was very typical of the village, basically one big room. Nimbus is a very social donkey, and made various efforts to join the conversation as evident below. In a coincidence that defied belief, Unda had recently decided to leave a legacy to a donkey sanctuary that she had heard of in England, but had no means to arrange the details. As the first English person she had encountered in years, she asked Jon about this. Incredibly, and despite the UK being a country of 60 million people, Jon’s late aunt had volunteered at this very sanctuary, and upon our return to Cayenne we were happy to make the relevant contacts for Unda.

A huge part of the departement economy revolves around the Centre Spatial Guyanaise (CSG). There is a launch of the European Space Agency rocket, Ariane 5, a few times a year. One happened to be in late September, and we took a brief break from birding for more conventional tourism, going to Kourou to watch the launch. In addition to Vega, Ariane’s smaller cousin, the CSG is also a regular launch site for Soyouz rockets of the Russian space program. Being so close to the equator, the CSG takes advantage of the Earth’s rotation to allow launch of payloads 10% heavier than possible at Cape Canaveral. Of the three rocket types, Ariane is the largest, so we were lucky that this spectacular launch coincided with our time here. The rocket we saw was apparently carrying two telecommunications satellites. Friends recommended a lovely viewing spot on a palm-lined beach at Kourou some 10km from the launch pad. The launch was just after sunset, which made for a beautiful vista, and the rocket jettisoned its fuel boosters as it appeared to arc away over the near-full moon rising behind us. All very spectacular, and a uniquely Guyanaise experience.