Linsey Winter wins £200 for her account of a perilous boat journey in Guyana, where walking the plank is an everyday occurrence.
Minibus, car; private or shared – the choices on offer. After some negotiation and a few scuffles among the drivers, we agreed a price for the taxi ride. Despite the boot of our car refusing to shut, we were on our way to Corriverton.
As dusk set in and humidity and mosquitoes increased, we left the congestion of Guyana’s capital, Georgetown, and found ourselves speeding through hamlets of unfinished houses, dodging the potholes.
“We found ourselves speeding through hamlets of unfinished houses, dodging the potholes”
Credit: alamy
With the car weaving between tankers and minibuses, I clutched the door, eyes fixed on the road apart from an occasional glance at the stray dogs on the roadside. The four-hour journey was broken only by a toilet stop for the driver at his cousin’s house and the collection of a crate of beer to be placed in the open car boot.
It was properly dark when we arrived in Corriverton, a small town on the banks of the Corentyne river – an unremarkable place centred on a fried chicken restaurant. We then faced our second choice of the trip – the big or small boat to the remote Amerindian village of Orealla.
In truth, both boats were small and full. Hammocks in a multitude of colours were skilfully layered in tiers, optimising every bit of space on each boat.
After consideration, we opted for the bigger of the two boats. Unfortunately, the only access to the vessel involved shuffling across a narrow wooden plank perilously bridging the gap between the land and the bobbing boat.
Sensing my fear of walking the plank, a young Guyanese man took me by my clammy hands and guided me across to the safety of the boat. The kind man returned to the land with a skip and a dance along the plank as I looked on in wonder.
Relieved to be on the boat, the next challenge was to find somewhere to hang my hammock for the six-hour journey. Though I had been bright enough to bring a hammock, I soon discovered that I had forgotten any rope to tie it.
“We would soon be in Orealla, and I would see whether my fate was another plank to negotiate”
Credit: alamy
My only option was to wedge myself between the wood that lined the bottom of the boat and use the hammock as a cushion. Above me were about 60 filled hammocks.
By this stage the boat had begun to move and I started chatting to an Amerindian woman in her late 60s who was expertly negotiating the highest of hammocks. I told her of my fear of walking the plank, which prompted her to tell me about the time she fell in.
Several hours later, still in darkness, people began dismantling their hammocks. This signalled we would soon be in Orealla and I would see whether my fate was another plank to negotiate.
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Source link : https://www.telegraph.co.uk/travel/destinations/south-america/guyana/articles/just-back-guyana-boat-trip-to-orealla/
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Publish date : 2016-10-04 03:00:00
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