“This is the end” – Jim Morrison
So my time in the Amazon came to an end. The jungle left it’s mark. I had always hated camping. I had my first asthma attack on my first experience camping, and that was just in a friend’s garden. It didn’t get better since that first experience, subsequent camping trips involved insomnia, lack of comfort, inedible food and quiet tears. I had always wondered why people would subject themselves to that torture, and pay for the privilege.
The Amazon felt different. It felt like a world within our world. A place at once a separate and integral part of our globalised Earth. And it changed me. On my first night in the local town outside the jungle, I introduced myself to some random strangers in my hostel straight away. I hadn’t done that since leaving Colombia, but being in the jungle had reawakened my playful, social side. And more importantly, I left with a new respect for camping. Most of my trip had been planned around cities, and this was the first time I wondered if maybe I would have been better off spending more time in the wild.