When I planned my trip to Peru to stay on a small ship on the Amazon for three nights, I didn't fully know what to expect. However, I did pack accordingly, with lightweight clothing that would cover my skin from head-to-toe to avoid painful mosquito bites.
I started my trip in Lima, Peru, where I dined at Mayta, the #39 best restaurant in the world. After a few days exploring the city, my trip was about to get a lot more remote, starting with a flight to Iquitos, Peru. Even if you wanted to drive to this city, you can't–there aren't any roads connecting it to the rest of the country.
From there, a driver picked me up at the airport and we drove on bumpy dirt roads for two hours to Nauta, where my Amazon adventure was about to begin…
Not only did I visit the Amazon, but I literally stayed on the river. I boarded the Zafiro with Jungle Experiences, a three-story ship with 20 staterooms holding about 40 passengers. With a private balcony, bathrobes, a hot shower and air conditioning, I definitely was not roughing it in the jungle the way a trip to the Amazon may be perceived.
The ship sails toward the Sapote River inside the Pacaya-Samiria National Reserve, and most of the "exploring" happens from a small skiff that peels off the main ship for excursions, not from a trail. I pictured machetes and mud. What I got was a lot of time on the water, scanning the banks for movement. You'll quickly learn that you never know what you'll find on the Amazon…
Pro tip: if you don't take advantage of your balcony, you will miss out on unexpected wildlife. As I relaxed outside shortly after boarding, I saw three pink dolphins playing in the water right beside the ship!
Every skiff ride felt like a scavenger hunt. Our naturalist guide would slowly cruise along the riverbanks, scanning the trees and water for movement the rest of us would have never noticed on our own.
The pink dolphins were the stars of the trip. I'd heard they existed before arriving in Peru, but seeing them in person felt almost surreal. Their pale pink bodies surfaced beside our boat before disappearing beneath the dark water just seconds later. They seemed just as interested in us as we were in them, playing around our small boat.
The sloths required a little more patience. Unlike the dolphins, they weren't moving through the water, they were tucked high in the trees, blending almost perfectly into the canopy. I probably would have floated right past them if our guide hadn't stopped the boat and pointed one out where I could see it through my binoculars. Once I finally spotted my first three-toed sloth, I couldn't believe how well it disappeared into the branches.
We started our nighttime skiff before sunset, where witnessing the sun set on the Amazon River is arguably more beautiful than any animals we'll see. When the darkness hit, it hit. I felt like I was in a giant black fog, hearing the sounds of the jungle and the movements of our skiff floating on the water.
As the last light disappeared, our guide killed the engine. Within seconds, the Amazon became almost completely silent except for insects, distant birds, and the gentle slap of water against the skiff. It was so dark I couldn't tell where the river ended and the jungle began.
Shining a flashlight, he pointed out a baby caiman, a reptile belonging to the alligator family. We also found an iguana, bright green and completely still, blending in with the leaves surrounding it.
Exploring the Amazon River at night was a bucket list activity on the trip, and I was able to see how different the water becomes from day to night.
I've never considered myself a birder. This trip converted me somewhere around day two. The birds here aren't shy or camouflaged the way I expected–they're loud, oversized, and impossible to ignore, starting with the black heron, standing motionless at the waterline like it's the only patient creature in the entire jungle, waiting to ruin a fish's day.
Then there's the ringed kingfisher, which sounds like it should be small and isn't…a chunky, thick-set bird with a huge bill, more reminiscent of an oversized Asian kingfisher than anything I'd pictured patrolling a riverbank.
The red-bellied macaw put on the best show, nesting right along the excursion route in flashes of green and gold, colors so vibrant they don't feel natural this far into the jungle.
Other birds we saw included the gray-headed tanager, the little woodcreeper, the great black hawk and more. Most of these sightings were through my binoculars, so make sure to have a good pair with you for every excursion.
Somewhere between the pink dolphins and the caiman spotlighting, someone hands you a bamboo rod, a hunk of raw meat, and tells you to go catch the fish everyone warned you about your entire childhood.
The piranha fishing happens the way it's happened here for generations, using local equipment and techniques on a stream just off the main river, no rods with reels, no fancy tackle. You drop the line, wait, and yank the second you feel a nibble, because piranhas don't give you a second chance to react.
Not only did I catch one, but a woolly monkey came onto our skiff and took some of our bait! Can't get much closer to wildlife than that…
Then, our guide brought us to a different part of the river to swim with life jackets. Hollywood makes piranhas out to be villains, but in real life they don't swarm you the second you hit the water. Entering the brown water with zero visibility is scary at first, my mind ran wild thinking about what could be below the surface, right at my feet. I'm glad I jumped in, because I would have definitely regretted passing up the chance to swim in the Amazon.
By the time I climbed back onto the skiff, dripping and still not quite believing I'd just voluntarily swam with piranhas, it clicked why this trip never needed a trail. Every animal I'd come to see—the dolphins, the sloths, the caiman eyes in the dark—found me on the water instead. I packed for a jungle trek. I got four days of proof that the Amazon's wildest moments happen on the river, not beside it.