I was speeding up a winding tributary of the Orinoco river through an unforgiving tropical rainstorm, wincing with discomfort as the rain stung my sunburnt cheeks . I was rapidly losing my sense of humour, cursing my lack of foresight in forgetting to bring a raincoat. But the sense of anticipation was just enough to keep my spirits up. And I was not disappointed.

As suddenly as the sweltering, almost asphyxiating heat of the afternoon had given way to torrents of biting rain, the leaden clouds parted to reveal the full majesty of Cerro Autana, glowing in the rich late afternoon light. The sheer sides of the perfectly formed table mountain, looking very much like the stump of a felled tree, loomed above us, rising abruptly from the jungle floor to a height of more than 1800m.