It’s Tuesday 25th March. I have now been here for two weeks. I can’t tell if it has gone very quickly or very slowly. With the only new volunteer being Niko, who has worked at the charity’s sister park for the past year, I still feel like a newbie – like I am learning the ropes (literally). But also, my memories of home feel very distant. I can’t believe it has only been one month since I arrived in Bluff, completing my cycle tour of New Zealand. A lot has happened since then. What’s more strange is that in the two weeks prior to Bluff, I had covered nearly 1500km on my bicycle. I have now spent the past two weeks in one place, with more or less the same people. This is life now. I am in my routine for the next month or so.

I wake up at 7am ready to feed the coatis. This is my first camp task today. Given that there are four coatis and four of us, this does not take long. I then move onto my next job – breakfast. This involves preparing about 20 litres of filter coffee and preparing whatever treat the volunteers can order as an add-on for their breakfast today. In this instance, it’s fried eggs. With an avocado on standby, I opt myself in for this treat and enjoy a pair of avocado and egg sandwiches. Cleo, arriving late, having spent her whole morning working, is left with the saddest looking egg of the lot. I think we need to start making backup eggs.

Adi and I head off to Gaia and find ourselves greeted by a highly energetic cat. Gaia is allowed to chase a ball that we have fashioned out of vines and will happily spend an entire morning doing this if she has the energy to do so. With her current vine ball falling apart, we take some time to fashion her a new one and spend the majority of the day, putting aside the half an hour in which she is distracted by some monkeys, with her chasing it.

Lunch today features more plantain and I, once again, fashion myself a greasy, chocolatey dessert. With three hours of each day spent trekking through the jungle, I am finding it impossible to put on weight here, so I will eat like an animal where I can. Jenn arrives with the shopping and we all work together to help put everything away. I am slightly jealous of the fruit some of the camp animals get to enjoy. The plantain that had brightened my day is now looking a little sad by comparison.

Having unexpectedly kept busy for too long, I find myself without time for a nap in the hammock in the Fumador, a daily ritual that I have started pursuing, and Marine and I head off to Kusiy, with the afternoon clouds swarming in over me, reflecting my low energy mood. We arrive at Kusiy and walk a few laps of his enclosure. He then takes himself onto his platform and decides to spend the rest of the session resting. Marine and I sit with him for a bit, before heading away to make some new enrichment. Sitting still is the toughest part. Before I rest my buttocks against the muddy ground, I make a point of pulling my trousers up. If I don’t, then they sit tight against my knees as I sit cross-legged. This creates something of an opportunity for the mosquitos. You want your clothing to remain as baggy and loose-fitting as possible. I ensure that the band on my mosquito net is pulled tight and tucked under my sweater so that the little terrors can not access the net from below. My gloves are primarily designed for gardening – fabric on top and rubber on the palm. The trick is to switch left and right and turn them upside down. That way, the top of your hands are protected by the thick rubber. Then, if you sit tight with your hands clasped together, palms touching, you are safe from the bites. The mozzies gather in their masses at the shoulders and the knees. Today, there are about fifteen on each shoulder at any given time. The longer you sit still, the denser the air becomes with them, and the louder the harmony of buzzing that accompanies them. I am not loving this. Grey days are the worst for mosquitos.

Marine and I head home and find another wet, soupy meal waiting for us. Fortunately, Tuesday is Cuñape day. These are little bread rolls filled with cheese – a famous cuisine in Bolivia. With bread and cheese being two things that are done horrifically in South America, it is surprising that these are in fact delicious, and a fine accompaniment to a meal that is otherwise without a solid component. That said, however, I find myself still hungry at the end of the meal. Unable to face a second serving of the broth and all out of cuñapes, I gather the oats I purchased a few days ago and fashion a chocolate porridge, with the aid of some chocolate chips I found in Santa Cruz. It is surprising that I have opted for more wet food, but my lord, does this hit the spot. A dessert of champions.

The camp is a constantly changing place. Ideas are always being introduced, tested and occasionally exhausted. One new idea is that volunteers who are finishing soon can share a short presentation of their time in the park. Today, rather sadly, as he is one of my favourite people here, it is Fabri sharing his experience. He spent his mornings walking an ocelot and his afternoons with a shy puma who is sometimes not seen for an entire session. Every cat in the park has their own unique personality. Some are restful, whilst others are full of energy (Gaia). Some will keep their emotions reserved, whilst others will not hold back in expressing them (also Gaia). Some are confident and love people, whilst others are shy and take their time to trust you. Fabri had to work hard to gain the trust of his puma. Although it takes patience, gaining the trust of an animal who has, in the cases of many of these felines, experienced their fair share of trauma, is one of the most rewarding things about being here.

It is Wednesday 26th March. Having had a day off of the ropes, we are back to walking Gaia. On today’s work board, it states that we start at 6:30am instead of 7:00am. I think this is Cleo encouraging us to leave on time. If we are 15 minutes late today, we will actually be leaving before 7am. As it happens, we leave at 6:58am. This is still progress. Today, we manage to get Gaia on the ropes quickly and enjoy a walk along one of her longer trails. She has three in total that are currently navigable, with a couple more that need to be cleared following several storms that have left fallen trees in their wake. All three finish on the same road that leads to the river bordering the park. Here, if she wishes, Gaia has the chance to have a dip, and today, she does exactly that. She gently eases her paws in, quite literally to test the water, before stepping completely forwards. It is important that we keep the ropes above the water so that we can ensure that they never get tangled. We don’t know how viney it is below the waterline. Gaia finishes her paddle and then trots up the bank to have a little rest… for one hour. As cats go, this is quite short. In order to enjoy the break, the trick is to pretend the mosquitos aren’t present and focus on how pretty Gaia’s eyes are.

Following a lovely outing for our beautiful feline, we set off back to camp and find ourselves caught in an almighty downpour. Usually, I get changed into my afternoon clothes the moment I arrive, but today, I really can’t be bothered. My body is soaking wet, my clothes may as well be too. Why put on dry(-ish) clothes only to get them wet again right away? When 2pm arrives, I finally put on my afternoon trousers and for the first time, opt for my waterproof cycling jacket instead of the hoodie I have been wearing. This starts as a good decision, as the rain continues to fall, then turns into an excellent decision, as I discover that this material is 100% mosquito proof.

As the rain subsides, with the sky remaining grey, the Amazon’s tiny blood-sucking monsters return in their masses, with hundreds of them landing on my bright red coat. I glance at my shoulders in joy as I realise that their efforts are futile. The sun then slowly but surely returns, and we enjoy a generally decent session with Kusiy. One of his platforms is falling apart and it is in need of repair. It is hard to keep wooden structures in good shape when it rains heavily for six months of the year. There are also the termites to compete with. Today, the construction team can be heard in the distance, preparing the wood for the repairs. Kusiy is therefore somewhat distracted. I am certain that the end result will be worth his woes.

On Wednesdays, the cooks have an evening off and we travel into the nearby village of Santa Maria. Today, we are being catered for by Don Victor, the hero who not only provides our twice weekly tucumanes, but is also quite possibly the only Bolivian to have discovered soy mince. Admittedly, with his restaurant still closed, we are actually dining outside of his house, in an area even quieter and more remote than Santa Maria itself. There is one shop. It is in fact a woman’s backroom. Initially, it is closed, but she hears the gringos coming and decides to open up. I am shocked that one cannot find oats in Santa Maria itself, but can on this lady’s shelves. After finishing my previous round of oats, my porridge game is back in business.

We return to Don Victor’s and he treats us to an incredible meal, with the vegan, veggie and meat options all being equally superb. A portly man, he sits back, content, with his same bandana on as a fortnight ago and a wad of coca almost bursting from his cheek. This is Bolivia’s greatest hero.