She had an itinerary for everything. The jungle didn't care.
When a hyper-organised Australian uproots her predictable life to follow love to French Guiana, she expects an adventure. Instead, she gets a four-year crash course in survival. What was meant to be a romantic new chapter quickly dissolves into a roof that leaks like bad luck, moths that fire toxic darts, and a bureaucratic landscape more treacherous than the swamp.
As the chaos threatens to overwhelm her—and a bone-shattering tropical disease pushes her to the brink—Donna accepts a job at an isolated scientific research station deep within the Amazon rainforest. Marooned in a world where nothing is cushioned and nothing is convenient, the real test begins.
To survive, she must wage a hilarious turf war against the local wildlife, find sanctuary beneath the canopy of a magnificent old tree, and learn that the wilderness is not a playground for her personal enlightenment but a living, breathing ecosystem that refuses to move at her speed.
Witty, candid, and rich with the absurdities of life in the wild, Surviving Nature is a travel and nature memoir about what happens when the world refuses to cooperate with your plans. For anyone who has ever felt out of place, it offers a different way of looking at wild places—and the unexpected possibilities of finding home.
Nature writer Donna Venna explores the tangled relationship between people and the natural world. Living a blissfully un-itinerised life between a sailing boat and a beach shack in Queensland with her partner, Frank, she writes about her coastal misadventures and hosts the Substack community A Life Half Wild. When not at her desk, she’s out on the open water.
Signing an indemnity waiver at the dock was probably my cue to turn back. Instead, I marched straight into a restricted Amazonian research camp where the howler monkeys sound like Mongolian throat singers and the French scientists take breakfast with dry biscottes far too seriously.
Things went downhill the moment I was sent back to camp alone with a two-way radio and a map I could barely read.
Halfway down the trail, I met a camouflaged pit viper coiled in the leaf litter. It showed zero interest in moving, leaving me to bush-bash a trembling detour and sprint back to camp looking like I had picked a fight with the rainforest and lost.
Book Excerpt
Surviving Nature
My pen had barely left the page on the indemnity waiver back at the dock, just below a bold warning: ‘ENTER AT YOUR OWN RISK.’ Now, a sign swung between two trees ahead, confirming the danger: ‘NO ENTRY TO THE NOURAGUES NATURE RESERVE.’
Encouraging start.
Beyond lay a vast expanse of more than one hundred thousand hectares of rainforest where the public was firmly forbidden to enter. This was strictly the domain of science, anchored by three isolated research camps.
Once the pirogue was unloaded onto the banks of the Saut Pararé research camp, we scurried like ants, hefting soil coring tubes, liquid nitrogen cylinders, insect traps and crates of notebooks. Then began the gruelling three-hour trek towards Nouragues camp. Along the trail, time slowed to the collapse of fallen leaves and the movement of walking palms on tall, exposed stilts swaying from shadow into light.
Our leader, an arborist named Gonzo, set a brutal pace.
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