/ 
Bolivian yungas and rites of passage
We're in the heart of the Bolivian Yungas, on Tsimane territory. Chueco, Delfin and Pato are our guides for this trip. Pato has brought along his son, Jason, aged seven or eight. We set off in search of a dorados river: the río Tumbo.
It takes two days' walk to reach it, through a jungle so dense that I get lost in a few steps. The forest is almost impenetrable. To get there, we follow the trails left by the anta (tapir). This imposing animal opens real tunnels in the vegetation, the only possible passages in this green chaos.
On the second day, we reach the top of a sierra. It's only a few hours' walk to the river. This is Jason's first trip. At one point, father and son stop at the foot of a gigantic tree, on which many names are carved. For generations, the Tsimane have led their children to the foot of this very tree, as a rite of passage.
After two days and almost 20 hours walking through the jungle, hunting and choosing a suitable place to sleep under the canopy, Jason earned the right to inscribe his name on this thousand-year-old tree, as a sign of belonging to his people.
Without them, we'd never have got to this river, and probably never out of this jungle. They have an exceptional knowledge of this environment: they are able to follow animals that we can't even guess at in the canopy, avoid the passage of ants that destroy everything in their path. They not only enable us to fish in their territory, but also to live properly in this hostile environment, where every mistake can be our last.
Toño and the waters of the Chaco
The Chaco is a dry jungle with relatively low relief. It's a semi-arid environment where life is harsh. Toño is an indigenous Guaraní: more than a guide, he's a friend who helped me discover this wild region of Bolivia.
Before each fishing session, he always begins by asking permission from the river spirit. He digs a small hole on the bank, places a few coca leaves in it, pours a little chicha (local alcohol made from corn or manioc), and adds various offerings: chocolate or other sweets. Finally, he lights a cigarette and lets it burn in the hole. When the cigarette is fully consumed, we can start fishing.
Toño knows every river like the back of his hand. He always knows how to locate fish according to the season, the water level or the migration of the sábalo. He always has a little trick up his sleeve to catch something, even when everything seems calm and still.
Rolando and the Pampas in danger
Rolando is one of the last Baures: his people are almost extinct, and seem destined to disappear. He lives in the vast pampas of northern Bolivia, and every day he watches helplessly as his environment deteriorates a little further. The wild lands on which he grew up are being turned into pastures, and capybaras, ñandus and other wild animals are gradually being replaced by cows.
Rolando is a man of rare simplicity and kindness. He has a deep love of his environment and is delighted to help those who accompany him discover it. He always looks after the well-being of his travelers and makes sure their expectations are met. He knows his river like no one else: we've sailed for nights on end on its waters, and he's given me unforgettable moments in the heart of its jungle.
Victor and the high Andean mountains
The Andes mountain range is one of the most hostile regions on the planet. Temperatures can drop below -20°C in some places, oxygen is scarce, and yet life abounds in places.
Victor is Aymara: sometimes a shepherd, sometimes a high-mountain guide for adventure-seeking tourists. He has exceptional stamina and a thorough knowledge of the valleys where he grew up. As we hike at an altitude of over 4,000 meters, he tells me about the different plants that surround us, those that are edible and those that are used as remedies for various ailments. He also talks about his encounters with uma sanka, the rare Andean bear, which sometimes comes to taste the salt he leaves for his llamas.
With Victor, we hiked for days on end in the mountains, spent nights under the stars, and caught hundreds of trout. He revealed to me the secrets of his valleys, introduced me to his culture and let me share his simple, admirable life as a shepherd.
Tribute to all my guides
I'd need many pages to thank and pay tribute to all the exceptional people who accompany me on my expeditions. Without them, I could do nothing. Without their knowledge, without their open-mindedness, without their understanding, without their desire to share, without their physical strength, it would all be impossible.
I have a deep respect for each and every one of them: for those I've already mentioned, but also for all those I can't thank here. Behind every fishing trip, they are there, making every expedition possible.
So, to my friends, I hope we can share many more exceptional moments together, and that all these magnificent places remain protected for as long as possible.
