Soaked by my own sweat in the thick humid jungle air I pressed myself on a railing staring out at the mighty Amazon river. Dumbstruck that somehow I went early springtime of Western Canada to the late summer on the edge of the Amazon Rainforest within a day.
There are no words for being on the edge of a natural wonder. Well there are some like "spectacular," "breathtaking," "stunning," "astonishing," and "magnificent" but I'd sound like one of those douche bag travel writers I go on about not liking.
Nothing comes close to the feeling. Somehow I felt like it wasn't real. I knew this wasn't a dream because my creaking air condition from my bedroom would be in the background and not the droning buzz of millions of insects in the trees below.
I'd seen the Amazon on television and I never really expected to see it in real life. Somehow it still didn't feel real. Thinking I'd fallen asleep in front of a television again reached out to see if it was a cold glass screen. Nothing. Just more damp jungle air. I was somewhere real.
With that realization the moment was broken by an overbearing but genuinely friendly local trying to sell me his less than authentic homemade jewelry.