📸 Photo

The cave was palatial. I was soaked from head to toe, but at least the wind wouldn’t chill me here. I wrapped myself up in the mosquito nets as usual and put the hood of the poncho over my mouth, exhaling into it and warming myself with my breath. And once again I sensed, this time harbouring not the slightest doubt, that someone had been watching over me.

It had stopped raining. The night grew bright, and through the crannies between the roots of the tree I could see brilliant stars sparkling in the night sky.

From the break of dawn I sensed that the day would be especially hot. The sun burned large and intense. I crept out of the damp cave with aching bones. By daylight the place looked even prettier. The shore was quite wide, caressed by the waters of both rivers: the Turliamos – so I had decided – and the Tuichi. A large tree stump had been washed up just where the two rivers met. I took off what was left of my flannel shirt and spread it out to dry. I noticed a pile of logs on the shore. They would soon be dry and make excellent firewood. A fire, some hot soup, a bath, laundry, and care for my sorry feet: I could to it all here. So I might as well spend the day. I liked the idea. The perfect spot for rest and recreation. After nine days alone I had earned that at least.

I scouted the area and found a berry bush on the bank of the Tuichi, but the fruit had not yet