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Date of entry: May 23, 2009

4 Nights, 5 Days.

The Camp. 🏕️

Sleeping in hammocks too small, and too cramped amongst the hordes of people at the various camp sites.

Fighting off the hordes of insects 🐜 before dinner- like shadows in the spotlight, they come and go, civilisation, at the various campsites.

An endless cycle of people going to and fro, always coming and ↔️ going , with its staggered nightlife.

Up high, on mountain perched lodges, bed bug ridden mattresses, we brave souls took these conditions head on for a peek at these lost people.

Dinner by moonlight 🌙, torchlight, woodfire and firefly, scrabbling from hammock to bench in between playing scrabble to quench those monotonous nights.

Dinner hot served, by candlelight 🕯️ in turn, watching those lights burn down like the sands of time upon these fleeting nights.

At camp.

Once and once only, and what is left is but memories by candlelight, of shadows and dust.

Shadows and dust.

What bumbles, wonders, scrambles along paths that the natives used to plunder?

A Lost City, 7km in diameter or more, my memory fails me, but my mind is sore from the walk that from day one to five, almost turned to folklore.

Ah man, I cant be arsed with this poetry crap (and I mean in reference to what I’ve written). But I tried.

The walk was amazing. 🙏

Would be illegal in most if not all Western countries. We crossed jagged rock for fun, danced along near vertical rock faces in the biting tropical rain, a top gushing rapids, muddied like our belongings and clarity of vision.

It defies description.

The waterfalls we bathed in the pineapples 🍍 and melons and bananas that were picked for us as we crossed these paths.

And…yada, yada, yada.

I bore myself. Sorry if I bored you too.

23012008196I´m a poet and I don´t know it…

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