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.
For twelve months, I scanned the green wall across the valley waiting for one tree to flower.
When Coeden finally dropped her leaves and exploded into gold, I set off alone through the creek and up the ridge before the blossoms disappeared.
The rainforest does not care about human milestones, and Coeden certainly didn't roll out a welcome mat, especially once biting ants found my forearm.
But sitting under a drift of yellow petals in the middle of nowhere, doing nothing until lunchtime, I felt completely at home in the wild.
Book Excerpt
Surviving Nature
A peccary snuffles through the undergrowth. He’s not the most beautiful animal – razor-sharp canine tusks and coarse hair like a steel brush – but out here he looks like a celebrity. I pick up a stick and thump it against the buttress of a fromager tree. The sound booms through the forest like an underground heartbeat, echoing through a heavy, sour musk that hangs thick in the heat. Nothing like alerting every creature around that I’m here.
The humidity is unbearable. It drapes over me like a wet blanket, turning every breath into an effort. I lean against the trunk of a cecropia tree and look up. There is no sky. From The Edge, Coeden marks the horizon like a mariner’s beacon. But from down here, only a dense, overlapping mosaic of giant green leaves remain. I hang a length of tape. This is a place where I could easily vanish. Frank, bless him, would check the house, then the neighbours, then the local boat ramp. Only after exhausting the obvious would he realise I’d done the unthinkable: wandered off into the unmapped rainforest to find a tree.
The threat of getting lost flickers, then dies. Survival means something different now. Chikungunya, papillonitis and a near-drowning in the Montsinéry river pass like minor milestones. In the grand scheme of things, how lost is lost? It’s just Tuesday.
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