A long day it had been, but our plane finally arrived in Iquitos.
So we get out of this plane and are blasted by this stream of hot air. Shit, better keep moving, don’t want to stand near that engine exhaust vent or whatever. We keep moving. The hot air doesn’t end. Fuck. It’s hella hot, it’s hella humid, and this is our life for the next couple of days. Holy shit.
We get our bags off the conveyor belt, make sure everything’s in order, wipe the sweat off our foreheads for the fifth fucking time already, and walk outside. Now imagine this, we were the only two tourists at that airport. Outside were ten, fifteen maybe even twenty hungry motortaxi drivers looking for customers. Only a few meters out the door, and we already couldn’t move. They swarmed us like little kids swarm a teacher handing out candies. Someone shouted his price, then two or three priced themselves lower. Quickly the rest followed suit and they soon bargained each other’s prices down for us to a single Peruvian Sol.
I’ll let that sink in. One Peruvian Sol. That’s roughly equivalent to thirty Dollar cents. And that’s for a ride to the city center, which is twenty minutes of driving away from the airport! After making sure we heard ’em correctly (they were all yelling at us and each other simultaneously) we just picked a friendly-looking guy and hopped into his motortaxi.
It was a crazy fun ride. We hadn’t been in one of those before, and with the crazy amount of motorbikes on the streets there, it felt like we were in some sort of street race! More on that tomorrow.