Apologies to anyone waiting for a postcard from the Amazon.

I bought stamps in Rio in anticipation but the merchants in neither Santarem nor Afua have invested in postcards. Given the number of tourists they get this is a sensible decision.

Now Cayenne, where I am today, is awash with postcards but this being Saturday afternoon the postoffice is shut and the French even in their distant possessions have not freed themselves from the idea that selling stamps anywhere other than a postoffice is something almost immoral.

That apart Cayenne is an interesting port of call. It's got a few grand colonial buildings and lots of decrepit ones. It's very strange to be in the middle of the tropics driving along roads marked exactly as they are in France and supervised with the same intensity by the Gendarmerie.

More later

Just spent the afternoon releasing baby tortoises into the Amazon. It was all part of a project to conserve and protect Amazonian wildlife, or more specifically various species of tortoise.

We steamed off on one of the large river boats full of a cheery mass of wildlife enthusiasts, or maybe just enthusiasts with nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon. We sailed for about an hour, during which there was a draw for tortoise preservation tee shirts, (I got one but so I think did 90% of the passengers - some of them, unlike me, even got an appropriate size) until we came to a large island where we had to be ferried ashore by small boats.

There were a number of vats full of baby tortoises and an area of beach fenced off and lined with small crates. Several posters were on display explaining the tortoise's problems and how they were being sorted out thanks to the public authorities of the region. One had an English translation of the "rotdogs sold here" variety. There was a loudspeaker system set up and an awning under which stood representatives of the various bodies involved in this project. There were speeches from each of them, about six in all I'd say. And then various votes of thanks. You didn't need to be able to understand much Portugese to know what was going on.

I expect the speeches were boring because before they were finished some enthusiasts got hold of a few tortoises, put them on the sand, pointed them towards the river and wished them luck. Eventually there was a more substantial release when the crates were filled from the vats and hundreds of tortoises were given their freedom. Some of them didn't quite understand and went the wrong way but amazingly the vast majority made straight for the river. How on earth did they know which way to go? Maybe they are geared to go downhill.

When it was over we all clambered back into little boats, got aboard the mother ship and enjoyed a snack and a cold drink on the way home. All this courtesy of the various sponsoring bodies.

We're now in Afua near the mouth of the river after four days chugging down from Santarem. I was a bit surprised that we did it under power but there are apparently good nautical reasons. On the whole the river was pretty calm although we did have a spell of heavy weather yesterday with waves crashing over the deck in real Titanic style. I was doing the washing up at the time - not too easy when you can't stand still.

Mostly the sailing was relaxing to the point of nodding off. Plenty of time to observe the river traffic and spot occasional dwellings on the river bank while marvelling at the immensity of it all.

The night stops were when it got up close and dirty as we explored little streams and creeks in the rubber dingy. I saw lots of lovely vegetation and quite a few birds but with the exception of water buffalo in their waterlogged paddocks no animals. Disappointing on one level not to see anacondas slithering by or crocodiles sliding down the bank and into the water but it meant that I felt a fraction safer when I jumped off the back of the boat for a wash.

Afua is an absolute jewel. The town is built above the water or rather mudflats. The narrow streets are edged by shops and houses all supported on wooden piles often with little bridges to get to the front door. There is not a powered vehicle to be seen or heard. What is not transported on the river from one pier to another goes by bicycle van. The streets and quite grand town square are constantly occupied by streams of cyclists. There are cycle taxis, four-wheeled family cycles, lads speeding along with a girlfriend on the pillion holding a parasol and even a cycle butcher.

The peace that you might imagine a consequence of no cars is somewhat tempered by loud music from bars and by the good news of Jesus being yelled out through loudspeakers mounted on - you've guessed it - a bicycle.

We're here for four days then it's out to sea, this time with the sails up. Next port of call is in France. Cayenne is not too handy for Paris but it is in France since Guyane is a DOM.

This is probably my last chance to have internet access for a couple of weeks. We set sail tomorrow morning and although we are 1000 kilometres up-river we officially leave Brazil here. There is nowhere else between Santarem and the sea where exit formalities can be carried out. One chap is somewhat concerned. He arrived yesterday to join one of the boats and fears he may never be able to enter Brazil again because officially he won't have left, no office being open on Good Friday to do the business.

In fact I am not yet on the Amazon. Santarem stands on the Tapajos where it meets the Amazon. It's a bit more impressive that the confluence of the two Creuses. The town itself strikes one at first as a typical third world dorp, all potholed streets and smelly gutters. But it's a bustling lively place. The waterfront is jammed with boats carrying cargo and people hither and thither. Passenger traffic seems to be mostly at night and as you walk along you see people settling into their hammocks on board these high two or three decked vessels ready for a trip to some even more remote settlement.

We saw the fish market yesterday morning where you can buy varieties of fish ranging from dinky little Piranhas about six inches long to vast Grouper like creatures five or six feet in length. The mystery is where do they come from because you see only the occasional fisherman on the river in a tiny pirogue or a dozen lads casting their rods along the promenade.

The yacht club where we are moored is a vast complex that has seen better days and those were long ago. But it's remarkable how they cleaned it up and filled the huge pool with sparkling water for the arrival of the Rallye des iles du soleil. Also it has to be said for the better off denizens of Santarem who don't muck about in boats much but like to have fun. I think that's the Brazilian keynote - having fun.

We had a certain amount of restrained fun in town last night pottering about the waterfront in that caressing warm darkness that is a delight of the tropics. There were lots of people about, walking, chattering, eating ice creams and sucking coconut milk through straws - delicious. There were kids playing basketball, kayak races on the river, mendicants with goods for sale - all in all a very jolly atmosphere. I'd say it was mediterranean life in spades.

We eventually settled on a restaurant terrace to enjoy the local hooch, the well known caiparinha, eat some food and relax. The food is excellent but served in mammoth portions. Three of us had in fact lunched off the doggie bag from the previous night's dinner and still had to throw some away. So I chose a steak sandwich and helped out with the finishing off of a huge pizza that someone else couln't manage. For most of the time we had musical entertainment from a keyboard and guitar duo who played and sang excellent latin jazz, bossa nova and so forth. Lots of what I took to be their own music but they didn't neglect to throw in the occasional standard. I expect that throughout the country and indeed the world their Girl from Ipanema was one of thousands played last night.

There's a great variety of people to watch and wonder about and one peculiarity I've noticed is that in the same street you find near slums and beautiful villas. Is this a sign of social cohesion or just of rich and poor rubbing along till the next revolution or military takeover?

At 3 in the morning Manaus airport is fully open for business; bookshop, souvenir shop, bar and obviously this internet service. I suppose there must be some good technical reason for night flying but it's not much fun for the passenger. I've another hour and a bit to wait for my connecting flight to Santarem and I'm dead tired.

Tuesday in Rio could have been a feverish tourist hell but I tried not to fit too much in. I spent quite a while relaxing by Copacabana beach. That looks exactly as it does in tourist brochures and lots of jogging and volley ball was helping the cariocas keep healthy.

In the centre of town where I was later some street theatre was going on to persuade the unhealthy that they should improve themselves - no mention of beach volleyball though. Just as well there was street theatre because the said to be magnificent Theatro Municipal which I had gone to see was under wraps for refurbishment.

But I did see the magnificent Sugar Loaf and the truly stunning views from its top.

Now that Cloud Nine is over I know what I got wrong with it.

When I read the play I was not very impressed by act 2. Indeed before starting rehearsals I had looked at various ways of expanding act 1 and doing without act 2. So I was somewhat surprised at how my appreciation of act 2 grew during rehearsal and at how well it played. I was immensely pleased with the result.

Act 1 on the other hand had seemed to me hilarious, holding promise of endless pleasure in rehearsal and on stage. In the event the hilarity became subdued somewhere in the process and we ended up with what I felt was a rather bland and stodgy result.

I thought it was a lack of pace and energy that was the problem but now realise, thanks to a brief adjudication and to feedback from friends, that we had drawn the characters too timidly. A broader more exaggerated portrayal was needed. I guess my desire to avoid making a pantomime of Act 1 was the primary cause of the blandness that took the shine off the production.

Hopefully I'll know better next time.

Anyway, off to Amazonia in the morning. I don't know how easy it will be to keep posting from there but I'll give it a shot.

Ate logo for now.