My first impression of Iquitos was, “Wow, welcome to the third world.” Iquitos is in the Northwest of Peru, deep in the Amazon, only accessible by plane or boat. Therefore, there are few cars in the city and transportation is instead dominated by moto-taxis (aka tuk-tuks, rickshaws) and motorcycles. Tens of thousands of moto-taxis and motorcycles swarm the dilapidated streets, constantly jockeying for position in the masses of constant traffic. Feral cats and dogs roam the city. Street food vendors can be found on nearly every street corner, selling simple fish and rice dishes, fruits, juices and an assortment of other goods. Colonial Spanish houses painted pastel colors line the streets and give the city an almost European feel if it weren’t for the neglect and decay of the buildings. Plumbing and electrical lines are hacked together by a dizzying web of patchwork. The people live simply—they don’t have much, and don’t want much. Although your interactions with the street people may taint your view, Iquitanos are an extremely industrious and generally warm, welcoming people.
I checked in, put on some shorts to help with the oppressive jungle heat and humidity, and then quickly went to a café to get some nourishment. I had an acai berry and cacao smoothie and chicken with rice and avocado. I was eager to get back to the hotel for some much needed rest, but was having trouble getting the waiters attention to get my check. An attractive girl, Megan, sitting at the adjacent table must have noticed, because she called over the waiter in Spanish and helped me out. We wound up talking for about a half hour. She was from Canada, a musician, and had just got done with an ayahuasca tour. She was incredibly cool and I wanted to hang out with her more, but she had to go book a flight to Lima for the next day, and I had to get some rest. We swapped contact info and agreed to hang out in Lima if she was still there when I showed up. I ran into her again after dinner that night, and could feel a palpable mutual attraction. I hope to see her in Lima.
The next morning, I met Melissa, the operations manager for Pulse Tours, and the rest of the tour group for our seven day ayahuasca retreat at 9am in the lobby of the hotel. We introduced ourselves and then went out for breakfast getting acquainted the whole time. It was a large group—there were 18 people in our group—but I immediately had a sense that this was a very solid, committed group. That would later turn out to be true beyond anything I could have possibly expected. I feel honored and thank mother ayahuasca for calling me to be part of this group. Interestingly, I recognized a guy in my group, James, having seen him in the poker community. We shot the shit talking about the internet pokers, and he was (rightfully) shocked to be recognized by anyone on the trip.
After breakfast, we returned to the hotel, loaded our bags onto vans, and began the two hour ride to the port city of Nauta, deeper into the jungle. On the bus ride I sat next to Miles, a former special ops, military guy from Florida. This guy is a total badass. We talked about his military and later private defense contractor exploits, and about the medicine we were going to do. We discussed the traumatic effects the battlefield leaves on a human, and we connected when I related that I had witnessed similar things in my great friend, Richy, who had also seen action in the military. Knowing I had done ayahuasca before, he was eager to pick my brain and ask questions. A lot of what happens during an ayahuasca ceremony is too fantastic and far out to really get through to someone who has never experienced it, but I did my best. Later that week, we shared a good laugh when he told me that one thing I told him during the bus ride, “There’s life before ayahuasca, and then there’s life after ayahuasca,” really resonated and made complete and total sense to him after having experienced the medicine first hand.
We stopped at a roadside hacienda for lunch, which was a fantastic introduction for many in the group to the third-world nature of this part of the country. Fish and chicken are grilled on makeshift barbecues made of steel barrels and served with rice and yucca, all prepared in the open air three feet from the highway.
We arrived at the van company’s loading station, grabbed our bags, buddied up, and took a short moto-taxi ride down to the port.
We loaded our things onto our Amazon riverboat, and were off for the hour and a half boat ride to Pulse Adventure Tours’ jungle retreat center.
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