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  • Killing Thyme with a possum. February 3, 2021
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Currently more of a pond…
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Jungle Journal

Jungle Management

  • October 26, 2017
  • by Beave

The cat is not living up to its name. In order to extricate itself from the new situation Mortimer is building a house in our roof just above my head when I try to sleep. I’m losing respect. Morning arrives with a ladder and gloves and sleep deprived zeal to remove his happy house. No sooner is bucket filled with a handful of mouse house, Mortimer , with an equally surprised friend attached to her back , bolts for it across the roof beams and they both disappear . Maustrappe has noted the incident.

Day evolves into the collection of palm leaves. Our man needs 200 leaves to make the palapa roof. First tree causalties are the two that we bought off the neighbour for equivalent of £20 each. My newly gifted chainsaw has its first two notches. The big old Capomo tree make the ground shake as it realeases a hug chunk of sky to the ground. Green canopy becomes blue sky. The wood is only really good for burning but makes for good cooking and charchoal . We have enough wood to cook a lot for a very very long time.

A janky palm tree is next . The wood can be made into a bench or two and all the leaves will soon become roof. Not on our land but we don’t ever celebrate the felling of an old tree. Respectful assasins as we are.   The old RUSH track The Trees plays over in my head. My dusty memory thinks is goes something like…

“ There is unrest in the forest, There is trouble with the trees. As the Maples shout “Oppression !! “ and the Oaks ignore their pleas. “  

The trees and plants so used to shade are blinded by the light and savor new nourishement from protons . Our house is badly on need of protons.

In our favourite Ferritaria ( tools and good things shop ) I found a wire cage mouse trap. Cat and spoons and tippy bottle are ignored and I spend the £2.00. It’s an investment. Our man shows me how to set the thing and with a small plastic sack of peanut butter dangling deliciously from the trigger I put it in the cupboard and glare at the cat.

8.30 pm and dark has settled in and we are in dozing mood under the mozzy nets. SNAP !   Yes , it took about 3 hours of doing it properly to catch Mortimer alive and looking very guilty. She has no idea that if it wasn’t for my inept efforts it would not be here right now. Some less Mortimer friendly soul would have had for her by now . We have had all sorts of poisons and killing things offered up as final solutions.

I have to listen to Mortimer doing her time in the wire cell all night. Rowdy and beligerant to the last she is. I awake and carry her about 1 km over three streams and let her go. She stops and looks at me and runs back the way we came. She gets to the stream and drinks and washes herself and then follows at the heels of my welly boots (walkies style ) until I cross the water back. She then dives into the grass to build herself a raft ! She will be back.

It’s already hot and I arrive back with a few clean buckets and a half a dozen large banana type fruit ( but much bigger) that our man gifted me on the way back.   I’m glad to be home and that Mortimer is still alive ( bit guilty ruining his day ) . I celebrate by jumping into our wonderful refreshing hydrating pool .. with my i-phone. When I realise I scramble my way to removing it from pocket and instantly applying all life saving techniques I can remember. It is not happy.   Oh Khama you are so swift !

I fry slices of the banana/plantain in a large heavy pan and then coat them in the honey from the bucket. Heavenly.

Out truck is making horrible unhappy sounds. Like a pepper grinder chewing a bolt. We have been recommended a mechanic . He is another incarnation of Jesus. A Jehovas Witness so apparently lying is not a thing.for him And he’s a Mexican mechanic. We let that sink in for a moment and drag the squealing truck to him. Jesus is still considering the diagnosis.

How you make your vehicle survive here is down to knowing your Topes and Baches. Mexico is entirely covered in literally millions of Topes ( Toe-pays) speed bumps. Lumps of things in the road that are designed to take out your tyres and undercarriage if you drive over 20km/hr. There is shortage of police and those that are around don’t have much time to enforce anything. So Topes make any journey slower and tests your concentration . They appear at varying sizes from irritating to deadly at any point . The frequency can be every mile or every 50 miles . The speed limit could be 20 or 50 or 80 but these buggers will sneak up on you . It is not uncommon that your passenger wakes you up when you are happily day dreaming /driving screaming TOPE !! as you ram on the brake. Very relaxing …

Worse .. oh so worse are the batches (Bat-Chays) pot holes . Pot holes here are a drama. After the rains they hide right in the middle of every single road . Some may damage your tyres, some will snap your axle, some will send you the centre of the earth. At anytime the car in front of you may vear to the left or right to avoid such a fate. Then every car behind does the same. It’s bizarre ! Even when the day dreams are perfect and the sky distractingly blue the sound of BACHES !! will bring me right back and ready to swerve.

In reality we drive like old blind people. The need to overtake is removed. Idiots here do not overtake wisely. The tales of early deaths is horrible. We have seen the results. Happens with macho attitude to blind hills. Whenever we take a 40 min drive to North or South route 200 we take the pace of the slowest truck and chill. The alternative is too scary and very stupid.

We have no truck so take an hour to walk to Oxxo shop in the Pemex petrol station to get 5kg of ice for beer and a small packet of rice to dry out my phone. The sun bakes me . I arrive back at the pool with 2kg less ice, 1kg less of me, 3 kg of water in my welly boots. Honours even.

Our house in invaded by palm leaf hunters and a truck. . The boys only got about a hundred of them from the solar area and now require at least as many again. Tomorrow they weave their magic and create a roof. So we take the opportunity to put a few extra notches on the chain saw. We live on the North face of a hill. The trees above us deny us light . I am in with the Maples. Oppression ! We really don’t want to see trees downed. The ones that go are blocking light to the entire hillside and “jungle management “ requires some sacrifice we are told over and over again by local wise folk. In total our chainsaw has 6 notches and we call a stop. A very grateful hillside and the house roof are bathed in sun for the first time in years. The humidity drops instantly. And at 4.23 pm you can use our outdoor shower with the sun directly on your body. It’s epic.  The boys leave with immense palm leaves in great quantities sticking a good few meters out the back of the pick up bed . They look like they are riding a green peacock heading towards our new roof.

We consider our jungle management and feel sad for the trees and delighted with the results. Solar system will actually work now. The roof in our house will not rot. We relax into contentment and are abruptly focused by a high pitched squeal and sounds of great distress.

My torch picks out a rather proud Maustrappe with a sorry looking mouse hanging from its mouth. This must have been Mortimers passenger. I had reset the trap with no real hope of a repeat. The mouse is well chewed but not dead. It is in a wretched state made more miserable by Maustrappe pawing it and nibbling bits off him and making whats left of his mousey life pretty intolerable. Cats are vicious bastards. I have seen first hand shrews being slowly disembowelled and juggled at the same time. Vicious. I get a glove and after a few failed attempts grab what is left of the mouse and despatch it to the jungle quickly. The look on that chewed up mouses face when flying through the air into darkness and fire flies will stay with me.

So I have a drowned phone ( so no pictures ..they might be on a cloud somewhere apparently) , a lot more sun hitting ground , a resulting happier jungle, a well named cat, less humidity , lifetime supply of cooking wood, no truck and no mice. I’ll settle for that .

Jungle Journal

If we are too busy…

  • October 23, 2017October 23, 2017
  • by Beave

Last night I managed a few hours sleep in between boughts of excitement and much silent waiting. It is now referred to less than affectionately as the night of the spoons. I was mouse fishing. I adopted a number of spoons of various shapes dipped in peanut butter (carefully removed from peanut butter pretzels) balanced over a bucket . The result of the whole nights efforts was noisily catching a spoon or two every few hours so as to disturb all sleep and zero mice.   My balanced bottle genius invention has been studiously ignored. I am a touch tired and completely outsmarted by Mortimer the Mouse. I am now under some pressure to employ a more effective trap that will be the end of Mortimer. I am still wanting to catch the bugger. Challenge is down.

 

I drag my tired frustrated self into town for supplies and to deposit laundry. We have taken to drying out our damp laundry in the sun which makes it less likely to rot but condenses the smell significantly. Our clothes which are now infused with dried sweat are neck snappingly stinky.

I am considering better Mortimer entrapment techniques when the solution jumps at me from under my thinking and drinking beer table. An abandoned kitten. We are gifted cat food and encouraged to remove the beast and re-home her. Timing excellent kitty. We install her entirely to irritate Mortimer. Just so we all understand our role in life kitty is renamed Maustrappe . Tripe is delighted.

 

There is a lot of nature out here and nature is not quiet. We are , however, grateful to be away from the noises of the town. We live in a Catholic –plus country . Church on Sunday is a thing and a series of festivals celebrating saints is also a thing. The most recent was to celebrate Saint Francis. Being in San Francisco this is a quite a big thing.   To mark the 9 day festival we are awoken in our windowless room at 5 am by very loud gunfire. Big sharp explosive noises that apparently are nothing to do with a normal honest murder but a call to prayer. The patron saint of animals is honoured by setting off all the roosters an hour early and scaring the stuff out of all dogs ( quite literally in some cases ).   This mock attack is perpetrated by some giggling priest at random times through out the day and night for nine days….. it’s not normal.   There is also a daily procession carried out by nine different areas of the town for the festival period. This involves some bloke/child dressed as Saint Francis on the back of a crawlingly slow moving truck looking slightly embarrassed followed by children dragged by parents and an enthusiastic brass band which has many Mariachi style antique/classic trumpets and tubas fuelled we assume with spiritual divination and Mezcal.

   

We find out that there is a tradition in Mexico to review your will at this time of year. All solicitors (by law) offer a 50% discount for a month. Mexican probate law is amongst many administrative sticky webs that is not a place to find yourself especially if you are suddenly single. If you don’t have a will here and you die then expect a few years in court. We are not married and our assets ( liabilities to be fair) are not straight forward so we give in. We endure many official hours of many words and many more signatures . Our liabilities are generously spread around some poor unfortunates should we depart.   This is now a document lodged with the government and is as official as a dozen signatures and two dozen pretty stamps can achieve.

More administrative torture includes creating personal and business bank accounts. The whole affair is astonishingly slow and there are so many levels of checks and passport copies and signatures. So many signatures. This is designed to prevent money laundering which was rife years ago and has been cracked down on in spectacular fashion these days. Nothing happens here officially without an invoice and everything is traceable. Dirty money is the way forward.

Our bank manager is friendly and quite lovely so spending many hours with him trying to get our accounts to work could be a lot worse. We plug in our rechargables in his office so at least the time is not completely wasted.

Much to our surprise we are offered house insurance. Now we have been told house insurance is not available in Mexico. It appears that this toe in the water into house insurance offered by our bank is very unusual and certainly worth considering. In the UK we are required to have triple lever locks on all doors,  window locks , a good post code and alarms fitted before your insurance company gives you the chance for them to ignore your claim. In Mexico your house must be made of at least cardboard and have at least a dirt floor to qualify ( not joking). For a very few $ we cover all our stuff on our entire land in all our our “buildings”. This includes all our solar and tools and tech and booze ! Probably worth the time charging the phone for.

The treehouse is now unlikely to fall down and has become very comfortable. We have loud power, running water for the next month at least, a chest freezer which we stock with ice and power up occasionally to keep the beer cold. We ship in vegetables, local eggs and cooked chickens . This morning we had an omelette with handfuls of our vert own Moringa leaves ( and more tasty things) with local honey ( we have been gifted buckets of the stuff). So add to the mix the pool to jump into a number of times a day and life is covered. Time to get some work done.

Days here are between 8 am and 8 pm. Daylight. The pace of life is such that getting stuff done takes all the time there is. We have achieved much .. but .. we have been here six weeks and have not been to the waterfalls behind our land and much more worryingly I have not been surfing. The rains have drained rivers deep in land and have deposited great quantities of crocodiles and poo into the sea and that is not a great surfing environment. Sayulita is famously sewagy at this time of year so it’s worth waiting until November we are told. Very soon all will be well and clean and surfy again ( if we avoid Sayulita) . Can’t wait.   No excuse not to have been to the waterfalls. If we are too busy we are doing it wrong.

The world around us is waking up. Nature is emerging from the rain. In the past days we have watched over two dozen large eagles playing in the thermals above our heads. Tripe is chasing some beast or other regularly. We are confused to hear the sound of tools on wood right outside and lumps of wood falling to the ground.  Confusing. The culprits turn out to be a bunch of red headed woodpeckers.  Easy to spot and not so subtle.  They are machines when they get going. Sound like machetes one minute and pneumatic hammer drills the next. Proper carpenters.

Our magic silent sun power is proving elusive. We have ordered a large array with inverters and great batteries and all the other bits we need. The expensive stuff will be locked away in the re-assigned brick shit house ( we are in the process of designing and ordering steel doors for it) and the array will be secured to a 4M tall 6Mx4M structure directed at 17 degrees towards two huge trees on our neighbours land that will effectively and efficiently shade them from the sun perfectly for most of the day. These trees are on agricultural zoned land and are not ancient or rare or even very useful ( wood wise) we are told . We have just conducted a protracted negotiation and have arranged for them both to be relocated from vertical to horizontal for a contribution to the farmers Mezcal budget.   Our most pressing issue is that because of some selfishly destructive hurricanes there are Islanders worldwide in desperate need of power. When asking for a lead time on equipment from our supplier an overworked employee will remind us that we are at the foot of a long prioritised list of much needier folk. Fair enough. Could be 10 weeks away. Bugger.

 

Our need for cashflow will become pressing at some point much sooner than we are predicting we predict. To this end we have made a survey of each of our buildings to see which one we can make rentable the quickest and most cost effectively.

It’s the Bodega that wins. Our Bodega ( concrete shed with huge metal doors) was where a carpentry business was based 5 years ago. It’s a solid building which will have good security when we weld a great lock to the doors. It’s currently inhabited by a load of mucky junk , biggest spiders and many bats.  It’s on the other side of the hill but has the best potential.

  

 

We do not plan to house anyone in the Bodega but on top. There’s what is left of wooden stairs leading to a sound concrete platform with walls and huge windows. There is a bathroom that was plumbed in at one time. The roof is shot.

Already we have removed the rotten roof and constructed a frame out of the good timber for a palapa roof. Next stage is cutting down 200 plus large palm leaves for the thatch. This gives us great potential to deliver further sun from canopy to jungle floor. Our targeted sacrificial palms are above our house and where the the solar isn’t yet.   There is a bathroom block next to the Bodega so with the purchase of another Tanaco or two and a direct 24DC solar input to a submersible pump we will be able to resurrect bathroom/shower amenities. Touch of paint and a security draw bridge to get up and down.  Add some basic accommodation somewhere close  for volunteers/visitors and that’s the plan.

San Pancho ( San Francisco ) is a special place. The Mexican President in 1970 found it when there were only a few hundred people. We are told he invested in a hospital and schools and infrastructure to impress his mistress who lived there.  Allegedly he wanted it to be a model community for Mexico and a symbol for all third world nations. All the roads are named after what were  considered to be third world places in the 1970s.  . “Turn left at Cambodia down Burma till you get to Africa”. It has a stunning beach and a short beach break wave with a few hidden rocks for fun. There is a golf course and polo club. World class sunsets. Friendly and safe. Caters to all budgets. During the season there is a significant  influx of Gringo dollars . All this and a population of less than 2000. It’s a great spot.

San Pancho has been asleep ( when the roosters let it ) since we arrived in the floods. Halloween and The Day of the Dead signal the start of surf and tourists. That’s soon. Bars & shops are awakening and readying themselves to make money. Events are on the calendar. When the season starts properly in December so does the need for special places to rent out. Point is we have a very ready market , when we are ready.

Need to focus.

But maybe a trip out to the waterfalls first….

 

 

 

Jungle Journal

I get a tick..out of yoooou

  • October 20, 2017
  • by Beave

With high potential of a Laurel & Hardy moment we  position two huge tanacos above the treehouse to accept and distribute water. We dam the stream and pump water for two hours over 1/2 km  and the pool fills and we are set ! A bit of detritus fishing and fiddling with the sand filter and pump and we are done for the day. She is looking gooood. We have our first dive bomb and swim and sleep soundly dreaming of running water.

    

Gravity and a touch of stupidity changes our day. We awake early and greet the day and our empty pool. My last minute fiddling last night left the filter set to drain. The entire contents of our pool has returned ½ km to the stream. Our guys show up after wading up the new stream to our land. I am not the man of the hour.

 

We leave to buy stuff in some embarrassment and return some hours later with a sink. I busy myself making up for earlier blonde ( ginger ) moment and set about making a new home for sink and plumbing stuff. We are so ready !

  

The crew have in our absence pumped up new stream to the pool and refilled it. Pumped water up to a newly placed 2500 litre tenaco next to house (which is some elevation) . We are at the limit of our water pumps.  Next they pump from the house tenaco up to the tenacos above us. Pumps are straining but they fill. Check PH, Chlorine and a few tweaks with seals. Ready..

The tap flows but the inlet sprays water everywhere. 4 years of Mexico has eaten the seals. We wait until morning before we can find good seals and give it another go. The bugger works beautifully. Until the tenacos run out we have running water, shower and flushing loo. Oh joy !

One thing I wasn’t told, or found in a book or thought much about is mould.  It appears more obvious now that when it’s tropically damp all the time and the humidity is off the scale, mould will grow on all your deliciously damp things ..How can humidity be 98% ? Surely we should drown ??….. .Mould loves leather we have discovered. It appears everywhere but especially on all things leather. Day one I applied a vinegar soaking to the window screens that were a rather lovely pattern of green growth. Within a few hours we could see the world and feel the breeze through the previously clogged screens. Daylight and air !! Luxury. Emergency trips to the laundry before out clothes rot and vigilance and vaseline help a lot. My wash bag is soft leather and subject to constant mould abuse. I found my cowboy boots hidden under something and they looked like a science experiment. I have taken to lovingly massaging all leather in the house with vaseline. My boots, wash bag, machete sheaths, all shoes, belts and some of the arty bits have all had a good go.

  

Thankfully the humidity is falling & the rivers are drying up. It’s been a few days since we had rain. Locals tell us it’s brewing for a blow out storm that will take the humidity with it.

Now there is a reason I still live out of a quite mould free but slippery wash bag. Our cupboards next to out open plan toilet have been squatted. There is a longterm tenant that seems to consider we are intruding on its otherwise perfect life. It’s a mouse. A cunning and tenacious one. I respect this mouse. I will catch him and relocate him to other adventures. It’s not easy.   The cupboard has been de-moused every day for over a week. Every morning I remove all leaves , toilet paper and bits of our food packaging, our food, and lots of mouse friendly junk. Every morning. This mouse works hard. Remaking a mouse house daily must get old right ? . But she’s at it every night like a champ. So I have created a nut filled counter balanced water bottle/coat hanger trap. It didn’t go for it last night but somehow an almond from the trap ended up in her new bed this morning. I have moved the bait farther down the bottle and will see what happens. In the meantime all mousy treats including dog food are under locked away.

Dog food is necessary because we have been adopted by a three & ½ legged dog. We have since found out he is one of our neighbours dogs but we must feed him better. He lives outside our door on a raised platform that is cool in the day and protected at night. We bought food for him. His leg injury is due to being kicked by a cow. He does very well on three functional legs. Chased off some beast up our hill last night. Because of this we have celebrated his injury and named him Tri-pe or Tripe for short.

I had my first tick attack today. It was a normal affair and Limes Disease is not a thing here in Mexcio so it’s more of a bother than a threat. There are famous ticks out here called Guenas (pronounced Weenis) . They have a stubborn head that is hard to remove and they can last for months and make silky smooth skin look a touch war torn. They are a feature of cows so we have spent time designing and haggling and are getting priced up metal gates on every entrance around the whole of the boundary. Keep the cows out. They eat anything and everything and give you weenises. My tick is enthusiastically surgically removed under anaesthetic provided by cheap cold Chardonnay. I am amazed how many items purpose design to cut stuff out of me have arrived with us !?

The pick up truck is a godsend. It provides us with air-con first and foremost but also hauls great amounts. We have been gifted so much stuff by new friends. Many many  plants ,soil ,and buckets of horse /bat shit. Amongst our many gifts was a rather special one from a newly discovered friend. I now have my first Mexican wife. For my other wives I was forced to build a secret room and entomb then in my cellar back in UK with Elvis. I’m sure they won’t mind. She is very beautiful. Her eyes sparkle like mirrors.

 

   

The house is complaining. Came as a bit of a shock. Examined the cantilevers holding up the balcony and found them to be wanting. Well eaten away is the correct term. Not good. I have been aware of four potential points of failure for some weeks and have had my eye on them. The core of the wood is good but there are large areas of rot. Have removed the dead wood and treated the rest but the points of contact with one of the cantilever supports is now badly compromised. Broken actually. Another one looks dodgy. We depart for a fix . I have a plan.

  

 

We pass through stream four on the way to fix things and meet a huge white stork fishing next to us. We hit Mariposa Point and a dozen different butterflies fly around the truck as we disturb them. Why they choose that exact spot is a mystery. By the time we get to town we are relaxed and in fixing mood.

By good efforts and lots of good fortune within less than 24 hours we are propped up and safe as much safer houses. After a good amount of survey and advice we found huge metal construction props and secured the balcony. It’s built out of the main structural braces of the house so holding them up strengthens the whole structure. Our crew has acquired three huge wooden mast poles of new wood which go into pits of concrete and are attached to the three cross braces that hold us up. The house is built well so it was very unlikely to have been badly damaged but this is a good insurance and gives us another 10 years of staying put. Looks good too ! Was worried about that (aesthetics v practicalities dillema).

                

We have taken to sleeping by routine collapse. A part of this routine we have taken to indulging ourselves via laptop to the daftness that is the DVD box set of The Good Life. One of BBC best of the 70s sitcoms. I say no more .. except …if you have never heard of it then give it a go. If you remember it you will add nostalgia. This was family viewing at my house when I was 9 years old. That dates me …! Felicity Kendal was my ideal fantasy woman when I was 9.

Think she still might be….

So eventful as our days are they are getting us somewhere.  Still not clear where but that’s the point of it just now. Endless possibilities.

Uncategorized

Crossing the streams

  • October 11, 2017October 11, 2017
  • by Beave

This post is perhaps a little overdue. We have been distracted by large amounts of life. No apologies for the amount of words. This is an accumulation of a number of weeks of happenings. We are out in the jungle now pretty much fulltime with no internet except on phones so when I get to publish this I’m not sure. It’s the calm after the storm this morning and we are in post-Shatshuka bliss listening to the evening sounds…. More on that later.

 

It’s raining a lot. This is not Chapala. We are in a small cheap windowless room in San Pancho with 16 bags and a surfboard and everything else we have bought and/or been gifted so far. There are now five rivers to cross to our land. Our lovely van has no chance to get out there. Its tough enough on foot. Our 4×4 is in Chapala getting tinkered with. We are stuck.

Lucky for us we are needed elsewhere for many more days to sign our names many many times and keep the beurocracy of Mexico in Mescal and Tacos. After endless hours and words and papers and signatures and cash (oh the cash).. we have our tax number therefore we have a company therefore we exist enough to prove our borrowed address therefore we can give away all our money and …… we own the land. W-e   o-w-n   t-h-e   l-a-n-d !!! …. Drink!!!

It’s raining. No4x4. We arrive at our land (yes our land) thanks to our solar guy and his immense 4×4 monster truck that eats most of the roads and rivers . The very last part is totally washed out so we hike that bit. We start to make a plan for solar. The place is totally overgrown but so beautiful. This makes us happy.

  

Our room is getting a little ripe. Constant rain and clothes that don’t dry will do that. We deposit embarrassingly soaking fermenting piles of cloth to our laundry girls next door. They take it in their stride (outwardly at least). Clothes really do not dry. When you hang them up to dry either inside or out they develop musty gagging smog. When you change shirts a few times a day it soon piles up. These girls are our saviors they deal with constant deposits of unspeakable funk and charge us pennies This makes us happy.

We head to Los Varas to pick up our truck.  It’s a 45 min drive over no rivers so we take the van . It’s a very Mexican town and noticeably friendly. Everyone we meet wants to help us or at least offers a smile. We look at destroyed second hand fridges and buy more tools and get some excellent pork tacos with our newest Jesus friend (he comes in many forms) and his family. The seven-year-old daughter takes great pleasure in correcting my nearly useless but improving Spanish. It helps quite a bit. I need to spend more time winding up Spanish kids for the sake of my education. We wait for our truck. After a number of beers and few tacos more she arrives!! We have our truck … we can get to the land … we are moving in !!!

We have an air conditioned room on wheels . Oh the relief of various bits changing shape and consistency and size as the icy air envelopes you. It’s blissful. It’s delicious. We decide to love it a lot. Worth the wait.

First days and its all a bit wet and exciting. We make shift a bed and camp around it with hammocks and start to unpack our stuff . The artist who lived here off and on and helped build the place comes over and we collect all his stuff in the truck and help move him out. He has just had his first child and is all loved up and cool. We learn a lot about the land and how it works. His art involves a lot of tiny bright coloured beads. They appear like dandruff or glitter in everything for days.

  

I am pretty much constantly covered in roof. When I go into the tree house or leave or even get close the roof deposits ancient muck down my neck. I decide to give the thing a haircut. Armed with scissors I set upon the doorways to give me some head height enough to avoid the straggling fronds that launch muck at me the minute they sense me passing. I do a pretty good job. The front door now has a passing resemblance to Paul Weller and the balcony reminds me of Bradley Wiggins. It’s all in the fringe apparently.

We are not new to roughing it and our radical self reliance has been tested over the years, however, the things we (I ) are conditioned to take for granted on a day to day basis are endless. Dry under pants is one. Moving around here is tough on the milky white , not in top condition, and no longer 25 year old body. So that’s one too… moving around and doing stuff without extreme salt/water loss and over heating. I am mostly a sweaty ginger chap.

The joy of slipping into the cool river at such times is indescribable. Floating and marvelling at the colours, patterns and variety of butterflies that join you….and their size. If some of them had strings they would be kites. Note to self to learn about butterflies. They are our constant companions now and its rude not to.

While the water is flowing (we have a another week or two) the stream is our source . Oh how I have taken the humble tap for granted. It is now a daily thing to take large carrying devices to our bathing pool and fill them up, load them in the truck and drive them home. I know with some certainty that there are 12 uphill strides from where we park the truck and then 7 large stone steps and 10 large wooden steps leading to our front door. I am so sure of these stats because I have carried my own substantial bodyweight in water up them every day.

Charging your phone/kindle/laptop/work lights etc.. That’s another thing. So we bought and assembled a generator. We now have very noisy power. It’s located on a levelish platform of pallets and flat rocks under the tree house. A single cable is routed upwards from which we have sucked every drop of lovely recharging energy to allow us to be re-connected with the our stuff. The noise is such that it does take away all the tranquility.. entirely. We have taken to plugging in all the things, firing her up and buggering off to lunch or pub or other essential missions. We return and restore the quieter jungle noises with full battery symbols and lights. Genius.

A fridge … with a freezer bit to make ice….miss that ….. We live out of an average size cooler box. It’s lined with beer and bit of milk for tea. There is a zip lock bag with a few items of edibles under a bag of ice. Daily purchase of ice is an essential. Warm beer not an option. Ice cold cooler water deposited in a tin bucket everyday for us to use to mop/cool ourselves down. Classy.

Much homework and dodgy sketches later we have a plan for solar. Be nice to be home when the power is on. There is a spot put aside to create a 6M x 4M structure onto which silent panels will provide sunshine power magic to nice quiet batteries while providing a large shade area. This sunshine power magic then gets distributed to all the places one could possibly need to recharge your phone. Silent refrigeration, quietish cooling fans, amplified music and other such delightful things are in our future., Our plans will become a series of jobs as early as next week and we may well be able to retire the generator within a month. This makes us happy.

 

Sounds out here are ever changing. At some point I will be able to tell the time of day by the background sounds. Might take some practice. There is always a series of beasts, bugs and birds putting their t’penceworth in. The very first of these that hits the consciousness is the bloody roosters. In town there are a flock of the buggers competing to irritate you at increasing ridiculous times of day. I have decided my love for rooster is now surpassed by just about everything. The longer they torture my morning brain the clearer the image of rooster pie becomes.

As day presents itself there begins the day songs that change with the sun. Birds mainly with a soft backing chorus of bug sounds. As the dusk arrives a dog or two may chip in to assert some perceived authority and then shut up eventually. At this point there are more distinctive cries , howls , croaks, hoots, screeches, gargles and shouts from all things announcing the night. It gets fun as we mimic the calls and listen for the responses. After a while it becomes difficult to remember who is mimicking who. Palm leaves crash to the floor regularly. The trees here all look like green haired old men with fresh leaves on top and long brown beards of dead leaves hanging from their chins ready to drop at anytime.

It’s at dusk the bugs proper give it some. An increase of the bug volume dials up slowly as the night sets in . Starts off at a reasonable 3 to4 as the dark arrives and gets up to a pretty rocking 8 or 9 some nights. The whole symphony is on occasions complimented by the one sound that reaches through the trees and gets to us this far out. The low low base parp-fart-parp-fart-parp parp of some old janky truck using it’s airbrakes. Add to the mix the shaking thunder rolls & rainfall loud on leaves, trees and our palapa roof and it really gets entertaining. .

We only have one rooster out here and its not that close … but I will find it.

Green is the colour the human eye sees best. More hues and shades of green than any other colour by far. The rains are still coming pretty much every day but for shorter visits and showing off less each time. The result is a lotta lotta green. An amazing amount of green highlighted by bright primary flowers and orchids in the trees. But mainly green. Almost all plant based but there is a lizard type creature we meet daily that is such a shocking Manchester Hacienda Day-Glow under black lights shade of green that it stands out strongly amongst all the other competitors. Not sure if that’s a good thing for him but confidence is a good start. I wouldn’t mess with him.

As the light changes so do the colours so nothing much stays the same for long. We watch the changes from the tree house balcony and make a discovery. At first it looks like a trick of the eye as we watch an intense clear lump of light move across the ground towards us. Then another. Nero (the nearest tree to our balcony) flashes. As the light fades these illusions get more frequent. Then as the dark takes over the lights move upwards. A light ball floats above my head. Our land is home to fireflies !  They are mesmeric. Flashes and movements in all directions. We wake to find one above our bed. Another at the window screen. They don’t like the rain much but at any other time they are everywhere. So as the sun goes down we watch in awe the lightening and the fireflies. This makes us very happy.

Now you may have seen the post I made about our new mates the Whip Spiders. They are truly incredible beasts escaped from a Starship Troopers set. We have found out more about them recently. They are not dangerous to humans (unless you have a faint heart) but they can spray formic acid at you if threatened. They in fact are one of nature’s true warriors. The body is so strong that nothing much will penetrate it so they are purpose designed to hunt and fight and kill and eat.. … Scorpions. They are on our side. Scorpions here are dangerous to anyone who has a reaction to their venom. Normally a bite will hurt like hell for a while, cause numbness in a limb and fever but the body will recover. Found one on my suitcase today and had to deal with it. Scorpion venom is known to activate the human immune system. Locals deliberately sting themselves at the onset of flu, which they swear activates their defenses and cures them every time. I will not be trying this out.

Whip Spider movie

  

So today started with one great big real thunder storm. Buckets of rain and lots of flashy lights and gut wobbling thunder right above our heads. The tree house is usually waterproof despite the screen windows but in this deluge there are 3 leaks that are bucketed quickly. No drama. A few hours awestruck by weather and cozy in our new bed armed with Yorkshire Gold Tea. Not a bad way to start the day.

At about 9 am we hear the chink of a machete. The boys are here to make pond. Our neighbor and his son, his mate and his Dad. The family is one of our closest neighbors. They raise cows. We now have a fresh supply of milk and cheese. We met him on the way in and he helped us rebuild the road to our place and carry some of the 16 bags and surfboard. Already in the past few days they have completely rebuilt the road, cleared the land around the house to discourage snakes, ,the connecting driveway to the road is clear and we can now see right to road and the pool. The remaining three huge 2500-gallon water tinacas that haven’t been nicked off our land have been reunited with each other, dragged 40 feet above our tree house to a newly cleared spot and await to be filled to supply us with running water!!! . We pay these guys what they ask no argument but it’s a small small amount for what they do. They are the reason we have progressed further than we ever imagined possible in less than a week out here.

Water will be a very good thing. I have a bucket to refill in the outside shower with an electrical shower in it. We have two water dispensers/filters that need refilling for drinking water. There is the jug next to the loo for flushing purposes that needs filling up regularly. Way more often than I thought. Flushing the loo with potable water is such a waste. Who came up with that idea ? There is the ceramic pot for hand washing and the bucket we fill with cooler water. It’s bloody endless! Can’t wait for gravity to do it all for me.

We have decided to create a wild jungle pond. The swimming pool that has been abandoned for many years and is actually just that. Covered in a pond plant and showcasing amazing lilies that flower in extraordinary ways. The water is murky but clearly alive with tiny fish and tadpoles. All great for eating mosquito larvae. We intend to empty the pool and transfer the life from the pool to a newly dug 8m x 8m x 0.5m pond. We will refill the pool from the stream now it is flowing and then pump water from the pool up to fill our tinacas . Rumor has it that this pool is deep and impressive when not a jungle pond. Today we find out.

The rain is light now and not causing any issues. We syphon the top bit of pool using a few hoses to the newly dug and lined pond. Pool to pond takes a while. As the water flows the plants are transported across. Looking pretty authentic pretty quickly. Then the youngest of us gets into the murk and with some mosquito netting and a plastic crate starts catching all the swimming things and re-homing them. This is a good. The new pond looks like it’s always been there and will look even better when we surround it with the heaviest largest rocks we can carry.

 

The syphoning stops and we go collect a pump for the next bit. Already about an extra couple of feet of pool has been revealed. It’s a really cool mosaic of small light blue tiles. The pool is a good 4m x 8m and now our fisherman is in there we realise its deep too. I mean really deep.

As the pump releases the pool water into the jungle slowly but slowly the size and magnificence of the pool is uncovered. First few feet and we find two massive plant pots submerged. (Yes I do indeed mix and match metric and imperial measurements.. ..It’s a British thing.) We haul the dead weight of pot and water and earth.   A few more feet and large rocks pop up and are reallocated to surround the pond. A while later, after many hundreds of critters are rescued and rehoused, we discover ledges built into the deep end . Below is another few meters to the bottom. Another two huge pots are found and rescued. The deepest part is 4 meter from top to bottom.   All the sludge is removed and amazingly there is no damage to the tiles at all. We all stand around the edge looking down cautiously.  No-one want to fall 4 m onto hard tiles. This thing is a work or art. We had no idea it was going to be this impressive.

 

  

The rivers are full of debris and mud from the storm this morning so we will wait a few days to start pumping water in. We have a huge 4m deep and stunningly beautiful pool and a large jungle pond full of slightly confused critters. This makes us very happy.

 

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