I’m sitting in the car now, we’re winding our way from Rio Dulce to Flores. I realised this morning as I woke up in my mosquito net, that my malaria safety zone may not have been quite the zone of safety I imagined it was. I looked up to find I was sharing the space with a decent sized moth, which makes me wonder how many other visitors I had while I slept.

This morning, waking up in Jurassic Park was lovely. (I had to stop writing at this point, as writing in the car made me feel sick) It turned out we didn’t have thatched roof on our bungalow. Only over the verandah. Frauds! What we did have though was a smelly pond outside our door. So I guess that made up for it.

Breakfast was panqueques, then it was back across the eternal rope bridge (which doesn’t seem so eternal in daylight) and into the car for another drive, though this was rather less exciting than the day before.

We arrived here in Flores in good time. Flores is a small town in the middle of a lake. I think we’re on an island. The whole town looks like it hasn’t been changed since the 1800s (though I have no idea about this, seeing as I know nothing about Latin American architecture) with small flat fronted, flat roofed, brightly coloured buildings on paved streets. It’s pretty cool. I’d like to have a shoot out here wearing a sombrero or perhaps hold a parade for some obscure saint. It’s that kind of town.

The power has just gone out so I’m blogging in the dark. I think I have some days to catch up on.