The jungle is almost silent. A mossy natural junkyard of tree corpses and opportunistic vines line either side of the narrow rivulet while tall, spindly kapok trees merge overhead to form a verdant archway. Invisible birds call sporadically to each other in shrill chirps shattering the silence like distant gunshots. Chuka is perched precariously on the very rear of the slender canoe and barely makes a sound as his paddle caresses the still black water while my eyes dart in all directions fruitlessly trying to locate the source of these occasional noises.

The archetypical Amazonian Indian, Chuka is long-haired and cherub-faced with bright, laser focussed eyes continually scouring the canopy for any sign that might indicate wildlife. Hunting (photographically) for prey in the dark anarchic igapo is both exciting and frustrating. Subjects don't come and neatly present themselves at a conveniently pre-focussed distance, rather duck and weave in and out of the foliage at the furthest reach of your telephoto lens - if you can even see them! A Cocoi Heron peers at us from behind a large palm frond while a colourful Macaw perches way up in the canopy.

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If you are weary of trademark tropical resorts and crave adventurous locations away from the maddening, beer-swilling crowds, then set a course for the Galápagos.

I'll wager there's a little bit of the David Attenborough in all of us and these craggy, volcanic isles 1000 kilometres off the Ecuadorian coast conjure up precisely the right sort of imagery; namely the adventure-hungry wayfarer exploring the limits of the known world. That said, I have some confessions to make; I don't want to sleep in a damp cave, eat worms or go much more than a day without a hot shower. That's why the Galápagos is my sort of place!

Straddling the equator at 90^o W, the Galápagos remained blissfully undiscovered until 1535 when the becalmed Bishop of Panama, Tomás de Berlanga, drifted 800 kilometres off course whilst travelling to Peru. Completely unimpressed by the apparent desolation of the islands, he wrote "… the earth is much like dross, worthless…". However, the good bishop was credited with naming the islands after the huge saddle-like tortoises living there.

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