Tena

Tena is a border town—but it borders a country of rivers and insects. It’s an entry point into the jungle, the closest we ever got to the Amazon. It’s lush, hot and green.

Besides the proximity, Tena is an incredible place in its own right. An unoccupied horse greeted us when we first rolled into town, standing like a signpost adjacent to the main drag. Straddling the Rio Tena, the town’s 20,000 residents go about their day with a certain quietude. But at night, when the air is cool and the mosquitoes fierce, life heats up. An evening game of volleyball was quite the happening. Foot traffic lazily lines the bridge. And along the river, the cabana bars were open late.

On our first night there, after many tall pilsners and fresh ceviche, we ended up at Chuquitos. We managed to stir things up pretty fast, ending the stalemate between the equally isolated tables of Ecuadorians and loud British tourists. The salsa music, and the Cuba Libres, kept flowing.

Luckily, the river and its strong current kept moving the next day—good company for my hangover. Even on a Tuesday we weren’t alone. Nearby, women did laundry. In our little inlet, we fought the currents with kids, dogs, families and men conducting a mock Olympics in Speedos (complete with diving, swimming races and then pushups on the shore).

Tena’s unofficial mascot—he greeted us as we stepped off the bus into town.

The quiet streets, where stores offered firstly shade and then sustenance.

Town nightlife: volleyball and caparinas in a cabana.

Hum, I think I’ll have…a peeping piranha.

El Rio Tena was good for both laundry and as backdrop to Chuquitos bar and restaurant.

On the outskirts of Tena.