We were up late this
morning. I cooked some eggs in the giant wok and toasted some bread
over the open flame on the stove and then we set off up the main
waterfall track. It was hard going – the track was steep and the
day was warm – but we saw a few Gonocephalus and a few
geckoes along the way. All the while we were on the lookout for the
Rafflesia flower that we had heard about yesterday.
As we approached our
final destination – Waterfall 7 – I spotted a gecko on a large
rock beside the path and called the others over to have a look. As
the girls and I watched the little lizard, Kate suddenly called out,
'There it is.' And sure enough, on the other side of the path atop a
large rock was the Rafflesia flower. Deep orange-red, fleshy,
about 30 centimetres across, it hadn't quite unfurled completely yet
but was still very impressive. Not far away we also spotted a
Rafflesia bud on a liana.
When we reached the
waterfall, we all stripped off and went for a swim (and Zoe was
visited by a large butterfly), before making some sandwiches for
lunch. After we had finished eating, we were joined by six local
women who had come up from the town to see the Rafflesia
flower.
We packed up and
made the long walk back down to the chalet, arriving just before a
storm broke, complete with lightning, thunder and sheeting rain. We
spent the afternoon hanging around the chalet and in the evening, I
cooked some more pasta for dinner.
After dinner I went
back out for another night walk, taking the waterfall track again. I
went a lot higher up this time and about halfway up the hill I
spotted some movement near a small ephemeral (now dry) creek that
resolved into a frog – and then another. As they were both
relatively nondescript brown ground frogs I wasn't too fussed about
photographing them, so I made a slightly half-hearted and wholly
ham-fisted attempt to catch both and ended up catching neither.
I kept going up the
hill and found a couple of sleeping Gonocephalus and a very
large and well-armoured phasmid, and then turned around and headed
back down again. When I got to the ephemeral creek, I stopped and
shone my torch around for a while, trying to spot some more frogs.
High up the slope, I saw what looked to be a small green frog on a
large green leaf, so I clambered up for a closer look. It turned out
to be a young spotted rock frog – dark spots on its back but a
brilliant lime green elsewhere. I took off my daypack and cap and set
about trying to find a suitable spot from which to photograph it on
the steep slope. Perched precariously, I contorted myself to get the
right angles on the little amphibian, all the while digging my feet
into the slope to try to stop myself sliding off.
Looking around, I
found a few more frogs and spent some time moving from frog to frog,
looking for the perfect shot. When I was done, I picked up my cap and
popped it on my head without bothering to check it – and instantly
regretted doing so. It was covered in small brown ants and
consequently so, now, was my head. Much cursing and slapping ensued
as I attempted to rid myself of the biting blighters.
