It is 1st April. The Amazon experiences two seasons. First, there is wet season, endured during the Southern Hemisphere’s Summer. The days are hot and the nights are equally as hot, with regular showers creating the perfect breeding ground for every fungus imaginable – on your clothes, under your bed sheets and between your toes. Then, there is dry season. Unfortunately, this is perhaps better known as “fire season” now. The daily showers become monthly showers and the army of mosquitos turns into more of a small legion of angry blood suckers, only prevailing in the night time. Wildfires plague the landscape, the days get slightly cooler and the night time temperature often plummets.

Today, everyone wakes up agreeing on one thing. It is cold. Very cold. Marion potters around in a hoodie with the sleeves pulled over her hands, greeting everyone she passes with “it is too cold”. It is probably about 15°C. I would describe it as “comfortable”, having had my best night’s sleep since I arrived here. In other news, my feet are a mess, with fungus growing on the broken skin between each toe. I drag my socks up and proceed to Gaia with Adi. Despite leaving at 7am and arriving at the enclosure geared up with our walking ropes, Gaia is in no mood to stroll today. Instead, she whizzes around the enclosure, full of energy on account of the chilly weather. The morning is not wasted as we complete several laps with her, work on some new enrichment and make a stop on the way home to find fresh vines for Kusiy and, in Adi’s case, the camp animals. Vines are the best tool for making new toys for the cats. In Gaia’s case, anything hanging up is the most exciting thing in the world. For Kusiy, it is large objects that he can carry around and claw at. The rule we must abide by is that all enrichment must be made of organic materials found in the jungle. With a lack of such items existing near Kusiy’s enclosure, I find what I can on our walk back from Gaia, ready to transport to Kusiy in the afternoon.

We arrive back at camp and discover one of the cooks in our room preparing two new beds. With Fabrizio having just left and with Adi leaving next week, I would soon be the only resident remaining in our dorm. It is unsurprising that the new volunteers are joining us this evening.

Unlike yesterday, the sky remains clear over our lunch break and I stay dry whilst heading into the Comedor for feeding time. Today, it is lunch in whatever language you like. I have a nice chat (in English) with Abbie and Bex, before heading to see Kusiy. With his platform in good working order again, Marine and I bring a fresh sack of hay. Despite the sunny weather throughout the morning, the water lingers in the bogs and we get wet on the way over to the enclosure. Kusiy, as always, is waiting for us and trots forwards for some affection. He then makes an assessment, as his paw slides in the muddy patch by the fence, left behind by the monsoon, and quickly retreats and initiates a stroll instead. Marine and I, trying not to take offence to this, join him, and are pleased at half a lap in, when he pauses for a sit down and rubs his chin against the fencing, in his usual way of requesting some fuss. We then complete the lap and Kusiy opts to spend the majority of the rest of the session napping.

The change in weather is very welcome. As Marine and I trudge through the swamp in the hour before sunset, the low hanging light bounces against the water and the ripples are reflected on the surrounding trees. It reminds me of being at home, when the light bounces off the canal and onto my ceiling. I miss Poohsticks. As I walk, drifting off into a meditative state, I find myself abruptly brought back to reality, as, for a second time this week, I hear the splash of Marine tumbling head first into the water again. Today is even sadder than Sunday. Today, she had actually started dry on her top half. Again, I offer to take the bucket and do the file so that she can hop in the shower quickly. Once I have finished these tasks, I head over to the room to find two new dorm mates waiting inside. One is resting, but the other, Aeddie, is up unpacking and enthusiastic for conversation. I learn that they have a regular payment set up sponsoring Gaia. Adi and I look at each other, conscious of the fact that she is leaving in just six days. I’ll be needing someone new to walk Gaia with soon. Perhaps, in a delightful turn of events, Aeddie will be the one.

It’s Wednesday. Today, Adi and I will have another try at convincing Gaia to walk. We wake up at 6am to yet another cold morning. Last night, I actually used my blanket for a change. I enter the Comedor and discover my other new dorm mate, Luca, enjoying an avocado. We get chatting properly and I learn that she is visiting from Germany and that this is the first month of her three month trip touring South America. Adi and I then head to Gaia, to find, yet again, a very hyperactive puma. Cats like the cold. Nevertheless, following a few sprinting laps that Gaia insisted upon, we eventually get her on the ropes and take her out on one of her trails. Having expended a decent amount of her energy beforehand, we have a pleasant explore of the jungle and Gaia enjoys some chilled time by the river. We then return to the enclosure and Adi and I put the ropes back. As we are doing so, monkeys can be heard above rustling in the trees. Out of nowhere, a large branch falls beside Adi, making each of us jump. In the moments that follow, several other bits of tree fall in the region surrounding us. I have a feeling that these monkeys are either rather careless or are giving us a hint to leave. We indulge and head back to the enclosure, fearful for our lives, but enjoying the rest of our morning with Gaia before walking back to camp in the glorious sunshine.

We come back an hour earlier than everyone else on the days we walk Gaia. This is our reward for setting off to work two hours early. I enter the Comedor to discover just Luca and Aeddie inside, each reading the files for their designated felines. Luca will be joining us in the afternoon with Kusiy, which must mean that Marine will be swapping animals soon, having been here for two months already. Aeddie, to their absolute delight, will be joining us with Gaia tomorrow morning. This also continues a running theme that I share a dorm at some point with literally everyone that I work with. Where is the work-life balance?

Following a magnificent lunch featuring fried plantain, which I again hold onto and use to fashion into a dessert after my meal, Marine and I set off to Kusiy with our new colleague Luca. The walk is slower today, with poor Luca enduring the boggy hardships in a poorly fitting set of wellies. This is a common teething issue for volunteers. Eventually, we arrive at Kusiy’s quarters and Luca is introduced to her new friend. Kusiy, a social creature, is interested by the new person, and joins us on several laps before retiring for the afternoon shortly before 5pm. We then move onto our end of session jobs, such as replacing his water, hiding his meat, making new enrichment and checking his platforms for termites. Luca watches closely, learning her routine for the month ahead. Marine also takes the opportunity to clear up inside a bit, removing old plant matter, forgetting that we may need to allow a little more time to get home today.

We embark on the tricky walk back, with Luca taking extra care not to fall over, for she does not yet know where the vines under the water are. I reassure her that everyone finds it difficult, with Marine, a pro, having already taken a tumble twice this week. Surely enough though, we reach camp and I meet Abbie and Bex, who are waiting for me to show them how to perform the compost task this evening. Three of us is a little excessive for one bin, but this is more of a training session. As the man of experience, I assume the role of supervisor and guide them towards the compost hole, as they carry the bin behind me. I then quickly learn that the role of supervisor is not all it’s cracked up to be today. A tree has fallen and completely blocked the route. With no simple detour being possible, I climb over the massive trunk and check the route ahead. I then advise Abbie and Bex to follow, preparing myself to catch the bin should they drop it. On my final descent down the fallen branches, I feel a sensation that makes me wish I would have kept my mosquito net on – a fire ant has crawled up my nose and bitten me inside my nostril. This is a low moment. I carefully instruct Abbie and Bex on what to do, in between outbursts of profanity. We then walk back to camp, all the while, with me assuring them that this is meant to be one of the easier camp tasks.

I have had the same wallet since I was 16 years old. Today, our journey together ends. It’s probably for the best – it has a couple of holes now and I’ve lost a fair few coppers that way. This evening, after my shower, as I am preparing myself to go to the restaurant, I get my wallet out for the first time in four days to discover that it is now thick with mould. I could wash it, but the mould will simply return. The jungle is good at that. It is, instead, goodbye wallet and hello bright red dry bag, which will now act as a vehicle for my change until I leave here. The wallet transfer is one way I procrastinate as I wait for my feet to dry following my shower. I have decided not to let them get any worse. I clean them during my shower, but then have to walk through grit and mud to get to my room. If my shirt is still dry, I use it to dry them off again. I dare not use my towel in between my toes, else that will probably go mouldy too. Once the moisture has gone, the slathering with Sudocrem routine begins. I then put my socks on and move onto the Comedor to wait for the taxi.

Thus far, we have been alternating between two restaurants – one in Santa Maria and one, Don Victor’s place, in a small village even closer to the park. This is in fact Don Victor’s home. He actually has a restaurant in Santa Maria too, which has been closed up until this week. With both restaurants being so close to each other, we have been given the choice this week to go to either. We were also informed at breakfast yesterday that the two establishments are not particularly fond of each other. This has all the makings of a Montague and Capulet situation. I, being a vegetarian, choose to dine at Don Victor’s – the, quite possibly, only Bolivian man in history to have discovered soy mince (or vegetarianism as a whole). He spoils us to gnocchi (again, not very Bolivian), and I enjoy approximately two meals, polishing off what others could not finish. To top it off, we then head to the shops opposite and I consume half a litre of ice cream in one sitting. This is my personal definition of “work hard, play hard”.