Pura vida...Evita's voyage to the Seven Seas

Engine parts ordered, we left Evita moored in Cabedelo on Tuesday for our flight to Manaus. Brazil is a big country and schedules do not even allow you to cover the distances effectively. After a bus trip to Recife, we took a plane to Sao Paulo so that 8 hours after leaving the boat we were actually no closer to Manaus than when we started. Next flight was straight to Manaus, where arrived at 2am Cabedelo time with three wired kids after six hours in front of video screens. They were very happy to have taken such a round about route to get here - the longer we fly, the more they can watch. Shame about the depth of the carbon footprint!

Our first morning in Manaus was spent making the final arrangements for our Amazon excursion (mostly trying to get the cash we needed to pay for it, difficult as many banks don't accept foreign cards and many of those that do have restrictive daily limits - £100/day does not go far for a family of 5). Lunch was Tambaqui, a river fish related to the piranha, which the kids loved although the Galician fish connoisseur was not convinced. Taste was too much of the land rather than the water.

In the afternoon we saw the Theatre of the Amazon, a relic of the glory days of Manaus at the turn of the 20th century, when Manaus was the centre of the world's rubber production. This period came to an end when the British stole some seeds and set up plantations in Malaya. The building is something of an oddity - a smaller version of the Paris opera house in a grubby city in the middle of the jungle. It has been well cared for in recent years, though, and seems to be well used.

Manaus is situated at the junction of the Rio Negro and the Rio Solimoes. The Negro comes down from the northern part of the Amazon Basin (from Colombia and Venezuela) and brings dark coloured water ladened with decaying vegetation. The Solimoes comes from Peru and brings silt ladened brown water. In order to get to our lodge we first had to cross the rivers, at the point where the rivers meet. The waters do not easily mix, and there is a clear line between the black and the brown that runs for several miles. The water temperature too is noticeably different.

Our lodge is about 200km south of Manaus, in a populated region (I guess we are still too close to the city to get real wilderness). We are now in the early stages of the wet season, so the water levels are almost half way up from low to high. The high water marks are clearly visible on most of the trees, about 4m above the current level, and these marks also appear on the stilts of many of the houses built on the shore, and even part way up the walls of some houses that obviously were not built high enough. The whole area is a network of rivers, streams and lakes, and it is often very difficult to work out which way the water is flowing. Being into the wet season means that some of the forests have flooded and provide a means to get through from one watercourse to another, giving a great opportunity to see the forest without leaving the boat.

The lodge offers a range of accommodation, and in spite of being in the company of students and backpackers, we find ourselves alone having taken the cheapskate option - in the communal hammock hut (although we have the capacity to fully occupy communal spaces so we have it to ourselves!). In spite of her apprehensions, even Paula is comfortable in between canvas and mosquito net.

We are here for 5 days with a full programme of activities laid on. Yesterday we went piranha fishing and hooked some very small ones with sharp teeth, and one larger fish. We have been promised them for lunch today, but I suspect that we will not be full from them.

In these charged times, politics seem to infuse everything here in Brazil. We visited a family living on the river here this morning, to see how they cultivate manioc. It was explained to us that as a result of current government policies the people here now receive money from the government so now buy their manioc from the supermarket. The manioc plantation is now left untended and the forest is returning. Government initiatives have also brought electricity to the area, and TV satellite dishes are appearing on many homes. So one argument put is that policies of the present government are destroying a way of life. I am not sure I can subscribe to that one though. Commercially produced manioc is so cheap, so why should these people labour to produce it by hand, and why should they be denied the delights of satellite TV?