Home»Photography by Chris Migliaccio»Ecuador: Amazon, Andes & Galapagos Islands»The Ecuadorian Amazon

As a child reading National Geographic magazines while the snow fell outside my New York window, the Amazon held a fascination like no other place on Earth. Giant snakes, birds with rainbow colors, people who lived with barely any clothing, and forests unimaginably thick and expansive made my young mind race with excitement. Could I possibly go there someday? So, when I planned my first visit to Ecuador in 1984, I made sure that we had four days to explore a tiny slice of the Amazon. We flew by jet to Nueva Loja (known at the time as “Lago Agrio”) – the boomtown center of the nation’s burgeoning petroleum industry. I was in the restroom as the plane landed – no advance announcement that “we are approaching the landing; please take your seats” – so my first introduction to the Amazon was being almost bounced off my seat and living with an asymmetrically bruised rump for the next few days. Texaco was the Big Player in the region with what I learned later a long, sordid history of environmental disasters, corruption, and corporate malfeasance.

I must admit that I was overwhelmed that entire trip: the vastness of the river vistas; seeing the Andes every sunset far in the distance; the height and size of the trees; the sheer exuberance of Life from the tiniest insects to the tallest trees; the heat and humidity that made Miami seem temperate in comparison. All these things combined to push me close to sensory overload 24/7. To cope with this, I journaled my experiences in the hope that I could sort out what it all meant later. It wasn't until I returned to Miami, reviewed my photos and journals that I began to appreciate the vastness/"bigness" of the magnificent organism that is the Amazon.

Having enjoyed my first taste of the Amazon, I was eager to see more, so in 1994, I planned for us to explore the upper reaches of the Napo River. We drove our bus east out of Quito and crossed the Andes at Papallacta Pass (3,300m) heading downhill and south through Baeza, Tena, Archidona, and Puerto Napo until we reached Puerto Misahualli on the Rio Napo. We wandered through the town for a couple of hours while waiting for the canoes that would ferry us for 45 minutes across the river to our 3 days’ lodging at Cabanas Alinahui – a jungle lodge on a bluff over the Napo; its name means “good view” in Quechua and was an apt description. We climbed 50m of hillside stairs to find the spartan but airy cabins that were built up on stilts with shared bathrooms on the ground floor. Hammocks were strung under thatched structures scattered throughout the 2 hectares of tropical gardens that included many remnant trees from the original forest. The cabanas were entirely solar-powered and rainwater was collected for cold showers and was boiled for drinking. The food and beverages were excellent and served buffet style in open-walled dining room.

While I was still awed by the Amazon, I was better prepared for the experience and was able to appreciate more details - some of which I hope to have captured in these photos.

This gallery includes images from these two trips, excerpts from my journals, and follows a rough daily chronology of our activities.