I awoke a new woman! The meds had helped and whatever bug I had picked up had seemingly run its course. Lo and behold, I had actually experienced the best night of sleep to date on our trip. Poor Scott however, had not. Something had nibbled on him overnight and he awoke covered in bites on his legs. We were in the Amazon afterall, and despite the bug net, something had feasted on him.

We hung out on the bungalow porch and took in the views. Our bungalow was perched on the edge of the Puyo river which was shrouded in a dramatic layer of fog this morning. As the sun rose higher, the fog burned off and we were treated to stunning views of the riverbanks around us. We rendezvoused with Carlos at 8 AM and headed off to the local cacao farm, El Paraiso Cacao Farm, to see how chocolate is produced.

When we arrived, Carlos took us around the cacao orchard and we plucked off a few of the football sized bright red pods that were ripe and ready to be picked. He cut into one of them and had us sample the white pulpy seeds. They tasted literally nothing like chocolate, and instead had a tangy and almost citrusy or mango-like taste. We were instructed to eat the flesh but not the hard beans inside and to spit that part out and keep it. These beans go on to be laid out to ferment and dry for several days.

Carlos walked us over to a fire on a stove that was being tended by the orchard owner. The orchard owner handed Scott a wooden spoon and instructed him to stir the cacao beans around the pan. Once roasted, they were removed from the heat, and we were then shown how to crack them and remove their outer covering and to save the interior portion. At this point they closely resembled, as well as smelled like, coffee beans. At this stage these were considered “cacao nibs.” We were told to sample them and I already knew I would not be a fan since I am not a huge chocolate lover and certainly do not appreciate dark or bitter chocolate.

The next step was to put the nibs in a hand-cranked grinder and Scott was shown how to grind them down. The powder was collected in a banana leaf and was then processed through the grinder two more times. At this point it was ready to either be briefly frozen so that it formed a patty of sorts, or could be added to hot milk with some cinnamon to make Ecuadorian hot chocolate. Half of the powder was put in the freezer on the banana leaf, and Carlos took the other half to make the hot drink for us. He had snapped a twig off a cinnamon tree in the orchard and then used a knife to scrape off some of the bark into the saucepan as he stirred the cocoa powder into the hot milk.

Once the hot drink was ready we sat down at a table in the open-air kitchen and the orchard owner’s wife brought over what was essentially Ecuadorian eggs-benedict; eggs sunny side up served over homemade plantain tortillas. It was divine.

As breakfast was wrapping up we heard squawking from the trees nearby and saw a trio of green parrots. They were actually pets. We wandered over to look at them and one of them, Pepe, became instantly fixated on Scott’s shiny divewatch. His body language conveyed his desire to be lifted off his perch so that he could get a better view of the watch. He parked himself on Scott’s arm and proceeded to gnaw, peck, and pry at the watch. He was absolutely obsessed with it and refused to go back on his perch, biting Scott every time he attempted to get him to hop back up on it. Scott eventually freed himself of Pepe who continued to stalk him wanting another go at the watch. It was pretty funny to observe!

We thanked the orchard owners for the visit and for the delightful breakfast and headed out for the next phase of our Amazon jungle tour. We would be returning to the Hola Vida reserve today for another hike. What I kept hearing Carlos say was that we were hiking to the “heated waterfall” and I was like “Hell yeah, a heated waterfall sounds amazing. I will definitely enjoy being splashed by that.” So off we went.

It was a true bushwhacking experience and Carlos used a machete to chop and slash a path. It was treacherous to reach it and more closely resembled a mud run. It took over an hour to reach the river and we had to carefully pick our way down the rocks into the canyon. We stripped to our bathing suits and then had to swim the rest of the way.

The waterfall was hidden until we swam through the canyon and then it finally came into view. The water was pretty darn cold so as I was swimming I was looking forward to getting to the heated water of the waterfall that had been promised to me. I bravely swam up to the waterfall and then positioned myself below it on the rocks at the base of the pool, and… it was cold. What the hell? I had been promised a heated waterfall and this one felt cold. Quite cold actually.

Well, it turns out Carlos had been calling it a “hidden” waterfall, not a “heated” waterfall, but with his accent I kept hearing “heated.” So that’s how I came to be pummeled by a regular ol’ waterfall because otherwise I probably would have hung back, not wanting to get cold. (Insert lol emoji here!) When I told Scott he really did laugh out loud and asked me how the heck a waterfall would be heated. I shrugged and said “I don’t know, I guess I thought it was warm because of all the thermal springs in the area.”

It had started to rain at this point and Carlos wanted us to get out of the canyon as quickly as possible because the water can rise fast with rain upstream. So we hustled out, grabbed our clothes and started the hike back out. We took a different route that was mostly downhill, and while it required less machete action, was even muddier than the hike in. He gave me a walking stick which was helpful but I still managed to have one wipeout which covered my whole backside with mud.

We eventually reached the road and walked on it a ways, laughing at what we must look like- clad in rubber boots and swimsuits and covered in mud. Eventually we reached the same restaurant where we’d eaten our other meals. Carlos told us to hang out while he went to get the truck. We cleaned up as best we could and waited on him and for our lunch to be ready. Carlos eventually returned and we had lunch. Scott had tilapia again (fried) and I was finally hungry again and had chicken.

The last phase of our Amazon experience was a trip to visit the village of an indigenous community, the Amazonian Kichwas. No offense to the Kichwas, but the experience felt much like visiting the Oconoluftee indian village in Cherokee, NC. A little contrived. There was a song and dance exhibition where their village grandpa was told to go out and bang his drum for a bit and march around the thatched roof hut for the tourists, followed by a girl that made the rounds passing out community hooch, or chicha from a wooden bucket.

I was the first person that she had come to on my side of the building, and I suppose I hadn’t really been paying attention when she served the other side, because before I really thought about it much, I accepted the little wooden bowl of hooch she offered me and put my lips to its edge and drank it down. And then I watched her take the same cup that I had just drank from and dip it into the bucket and offer it to Scott, who while still laughing at me, shook his head aggressively, declining her offer, and then she moved on to the next person. So that happened.

And so help me God, that chicha better not have been made in the traditional manner where the tribal grannies chew the yucca and spit it into a bowl where it ferments for a few days before being served to guests. I am going to tell myself that this was commercially prepared chicha and if you hear otherwise, you best keep that little tidbit to yourself.

We declined the offer to eat the fat, wriggling and writhing chontacuro grubs that were offered to us next, but did partake in the traditional face painting. Evidently Scott’s pattern was meant to protect him if he were to head off into battle and I missed hearing what my pattern meant. We were offered the chance to hold a macaw and a monkey (Scott pet the monkey which made me mad because I object to them being bred for pets and I warned him that they bite, and if bitten he would have to have post-Rabies exposure treatment but he did it anyways) and then got hustled for donations and then were sent to the gift shop. I did buy a cute beaded bracelet.

Our time in the Amazon had finally come to an end and Carlos escorted us back to Baños. The drive took quite a bit longer this time since it was Sunday, and Baños’ traffic is notoriously crowded on the weekends. Carlos wasn’t quite as patient on this drive but we eventually arrived back safely at our hotel, bid him adios, and went to check-in.

This time we would be staying for three nights at the Hotel De Mi Pueblo, and I had booked a rooftop room for us that promised views of the waterfall in town. Our room was incredible and we loved seeing the panoramic views over the city and of the surrounding mountains.

The proprietor suggested her favorite restaurant for dinner, a Mexican place a short walk away, and we took her suggestion. Dinner was lovely and on our stroll through town we were entertained by how wild and lively the city was this evening. Our favorite thing we saw were the little themed trains covered in neon lights and blasting music that were parading visitors around the city, paying zero attention to any sort of traffic laws.

We had joked earlier in the trip that Scott should get a haircut like he had done in Thailand, and the universe served up the perfect opportunity this evening. As we were headed back to our hotel we passed a barbershop that more closely resembled a rave than a hair cutting establishment and they summoned Scott in enthusiastically when he asked how long the wait was. We enjoyed the party-like atmosphere and he got the best daggum haircut of his life, and everyone posed for a photo op at the end.

We finally made it back to Hotel De Mi Pueblo and called it a night, exhausted from our last few action packed days.