If the prospect of landing a piranha in the Amazon doesn't grab you, nothing will. Although the word piranha has always conjured up fearful images of severed limbs stripped bare of flesh, a tour guide's promise of an Amazon adventure of a lifetime induced me to book a flight from Lima to Iquitos, gateway to the greatest river on earth.
The contrast between Lima's pacific coastal climate and the oppressive tropical humidity of Iquitos could scarcely have been more striking, and I was overwhelmed by the heat when I clambered down from the small plane. But we were given no time to acclimatise: the next day Anselmo, the indigenous Amazonian who was to be my guide, announced that our first outing was that very afternoon.
There were seven of us in our group and we settled ourselves in our boat before setting off at speed down the river, covering over 80km in little more than an hour and a half. Our accommodation was at the Heliconia, a wooden hotel on stilts completely surrounded by flooded forest. We'd arrived at the end of the wet season, and the forest had flooded up to an incredible 18m in parts.
After a brief rest and some lunch we clambered into another boat for a trip up river. Startling cobalt-blue Amazon kingfishers zoomed past, and tiny emerald humming birds hovered in the foliage. The Amazon itself was surprisingly clean and, according to Anselmo, drinkable. We nodded politely and stuck to our Evian.
As far as I could tell, we stepped off the boat, entered the forest and were instantly and completely lost. However, Anselmo seemed to be familiar with the jungle path (or highway, as he blithely insisted on calling it) and enthusiastically pointed out examples of ecosystems in action. The dense forest hid a green carpet of ferns and hundreds of species of orchids and tropical vines. Exotic flowers and monkey cup mushrooms nestled in the shade while enormous millipedes sprawled over fallen tree trunks.
We returned to the river as the sunset collapsed into night in a uniquely tropical fashion. On our way back down Anselmo stopped the boat's engine and the darkness instantly filled with a cacophony of sounds as howler monkeys, poison-arrow frogs and millions of species of insect, all joined together to provide a soundtrack to our journey.
If you don't rise early in the jungle you miss a lot of the action. Thus we found ourselves at 5am out on the boats rubbing sleep out of our eyes and ready to go bird watching. We were subjected to a spectacular display of early morning preening and squawking. A jacana, a small tropical wading bird, swooped past three giant egrets resting in the reeds. Water-lilies a metre wide surrounded our canoe and the silhouette of the elusive sloth was just visible in the nearby forest. With binoculars it was possible to glimpse the crimson wings of the cara cara hawks nestling in the ceiba trees towering 150 feet above the forest canopy.
Anselmo then announced that we were all to go fishing - an entirely alien concept to me. But this was an action adventure trip, so I gritted my teeth and gingerly accepted the cane rod baited with meat which he offered me. Expecting my hands to be stripped to the bone if I so much as touched the water, I sat patiently in the canoe, praying that no one would suddenly rock the boat.
The serenity of the surroundings soon banished my visions of all-out carnage, however, and we all cheered when Anselmo caught two piranhas in quick succession. Silence fell once more and we all sat patiently, serenaded by tropical finches and black flies. Each nibble at the rod was accompanied by a frisson of anticipation. And there was a definite sense of competition growing between the English and Americans contingents on board.
Further incentive came when Anselmo pointed out that our catch was to be our only source of food that evening. Admittedly it wasn't sea bass, but this was the middle of the rainforest. Despite hundreds of small bites, everyone in the group continually missed the chance of hooking a fish.
Then, just as darkness was threatening to end our chances, I managed to haul one a piranha onto the boat. I nervously held its golden body at arms length while its tail flicked violently. To rapturous applause from all sides, no doubt primarily due to the assurance of a meal that night, I posed for the obligatory photo.
Back at the Heliconia, we dined on our own catch, washed down with a tot of the local brew - the perfect end to a remarkable journey.
Way to go
Mabel travelled with STA Travel. The cost of the trip was £540. She flew from Heathrow to Lima via Miami with American Airlines (taxes included).
The internal flight from Lima to Iquitos was £59 including taxes with Grupo Taca
Mabel stayed at Heliconia Lodge
Tour operator: Journey Latin America