Our jungle home for the next two nights

We're safely ensconced in our mosquito nets on the jungle floor. It's raining outside, but we are covered by a makeshift roof - a tarp hung over three sticks, tied with bark.

We hiked for four hours to get here, and I have to say it was bloody tough. Our guide, Elu, is 56 and he's the fittest person among us. He doesn't say much but we discovered yesterday that he's prone to off road adventures. One tiny sound in the distance is enough to send him diving into the foliage without warning, gesturing wildly for us to follow. Yesterday it was wild pigs. We chased them until we stumbled into a muddy clearing. Pigs scattered in every direction, screeching, snorting and stomping all around us. The air was thick with humidity, sweat poured out of us. The stench was almost too much. Elu made us sit there for ten minutes, waiting for the pigs to return. By the time we got back to the normal 'path', we looked and smelt no better than pigs ourselves.

Carl enjoys fresh water straight from a tree

Today, though, he was all business. He moved so fast through the foliage, seeing tracks where we only saw shrubs. With packs full of food and supplies for the next three days, we wobbled across fallen logs, along dry river beds, stumbled down muddy hills, tripped over tree roots, walked into spider webs, sunk into boggy marshes and sweated like bastards.

We've set up camp and eaten our lunch of rice and chicken. Now we're all exhausted. Time for a siesta before we head out tonight to look for tarantulas.