Our next destination was Pantiacolla Lodge, at 550m on the Rio Madre de Dios. En route we stopped at a shingle bank where hundreds of the pretty brown, orange and white Adelpha jordani were swarming, along with smaller numbers of several other species. As we journeyed along the river an almost constant stream of Pierids and Swordtails passed us, all migrating in the opposite direction.

Cloudy and cool conditions during our 2 days at Pantiacolla limited butterfly sightings somewhat, but we saw about 60 species including Morpho helenor, the pretty Green-shouldered Skipper Gorgopas trochilus, lots of Satyrines, many Harmonia Tigers Tithorea harmonia, and a stunning blue Riodinid - not illustrated in any published work, but kindly identified as Xenandra poliotactis by neotropical Riodinid experts Curtis Callaghan and Jason Hall.

On one of the Pantiacolla trails I had a slightly alarming experience when a large group of White-lipped Peccaries emerged a few metres ahead of me, snorting, grunting and clicking their teeth. I had been told however that the animals have poor eyesight, so I froze on the spot and remained totally silent, and after a while they wandered, still snorting loudly, back into the forest. Other wildlife included Red Howler Monkey, Black Spider Monkey, Andean Coati, Tamarin, and Southern Amazon Red Squirrel.

A 3 hour boat journey took us to our final destination, Oropendola Lodge, at an altitude of 200m. Here we spent 5 days birding and butterfly-watching along the numerous trails, and photographing the myriads of butterflies which assembled to imbibe moisture from the sandbanks of the river. Here we saw dozens of the glorious Red Flasher Panacea prola. These butterflies, marked on the upperside with a beautiful metallic blue pattern, assemble in large groups to bask on the shore. When one individual detects a threat from an approaching bird or human, it responds by fanning it's wings to display the bright red underside. This acts as a signal to warn it's brethren, who also start fanning their wings, so that the whole group quickly becomes alerted to the danger and is ready to fly up into the trees to escape.

On a day trip from our base we visited an ox-bow lake. Most of the group elected to go out on a raft with the aim of birding and spotting river otters. They had a very successful and enjoyable trip, but I preferred to explore the trails in the nearby forest for butterflies.

I saw several Ithomiine Glasswings, and observed one incident in which one of these butterflies settled clumsily on a nearby leaf, on which it walked about in a disorientated manner. A patch of rainwater had collected near the edge of the leaf, and the butterfly walked to it's edge, bent forward and dipped it's left antenna into the water. It then used it's right foreleg to "comb" the antenna, cleaning it of debris. Afterwards it turned to face the opposite direction, dipped it's right antenna into the water, and drew the antenna though it's left foreleg. The very deliberate way in which this preening took place was fascinating to watch. After cleaning it's antennae the butterfly instantly became more alert and regained control, clearly demonstrating to me the fact that the antennae are vital for maintaining balance and orientation.

Having feasted our eyes on the hordes of other butterfly species at Oropendola Lodge, such as the stunning purple Rhetus periander, the beautiful translucent green Philaethria dido etc; and having been captivated by the calls of the Screaming Piha, the gurgling songs of various Oropendola species, and the humbling feeling that comes from standing silently amidst a rainforest seething with wildlife, we sadly had to depart for our 7 hour journey by motorised longboat to Labarinta, from where we were to be transported to Puerto Maldonado.

The journey began at dawn, and about half an hour later, in misty conditions, we had a distant sighting of a Brazilian Tapir, which emerged from a patch of bamboo forest and strolled along a sandbank. We made a couple of stops at other sandbanks along the route ( where butterflies were largely absent except for a sighting of the brilliant metallic green Caria mantinea ) and later had an interesting incident when the boat became grounded for a while in the middle of the 400 metre wide river. A lot of organised boat rocking finally got us clear.

During the afternoon temperatures soared and a storm brewed. In the distance the sky became black, and as rainfall hit the distant sandbanks a swirling cloud of dust and steam erupted and swept rapidly downstream towards us. Our boatmen, who had until this time been excellent, unfortunately decided to try to outrun the storm rather than pull over to sit it out on the shore. Moments later a crack of lightning was followed by an instant and violent clap of thunder, and a massive gust of wind grabbed our boat, ripping off the roof. Torrential rain, lashing winds and a very choppy river had most of us fearing the boat would capsize, but luckily the storm subsided after a few minutes and we were able to limp on to the port at Labarinta, from where we were transported by minibus to Puerto Maldonado.

We spent the night in a hotel at Puerto Maldonado, and in the morning awoke to find the weather overcast and very cool. We had a couple of hours to spare before our scheduled departure for Lima, and used it to explore a patch of relict forest just outside the city. We only saw one butterfly, but it was a rather special one - the tiny long tailed Riodinid Syrmatia lamia - a fitting finale to end one of the most interesting and productive neotropical trips in which I have participated.