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I take only my shorts and towel, nothing else. Afternoon heat makes the scrubby savannah behind Kourou’s beach unbearable. I pass an Amerindian woman wearing rubber boots and carrying a machete. Small groups of them subsist here. On the sand I kick a small black twig until it writhes and realize it’s a water snake; the most venomous there is I understand later. Wandering back, refreshed; planning my first rum punch, I see the woman now, slashing her machete at a pack of circling, snarling, mouth-frothing dogs. There is rabies here and I have only my towel to defend myself.
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Travelogue