So how am I feeling? Well, knackered first and foremost, I guess. I know that I've been living on reserve energy for a while now and I know from experience that as soon as I stop working I usually go into recovery mode (which generally means a lot of time in bed). I'm looking forward to that, but I hope that I don't suddenly get hit by too many illnesses which I've managed to keep suppressed while I've been so busy, as that has happened before when I finish a big trip. I'll know soon enough.

And other than my selfish feelings of the moment, I am also emotionally wrecked by the whole of this experience. New crew members have been looking at me a little oddly as I rant on about what I'm seeing here, especially in the last month or so. I feel that I may have gone a little insane. This whole experience has been quite a shock for me and I'm not too sure how I'm going to react to going back to the UK to be honest.

Ultimately I have seen the frontline of international trade and industry in many of its forms. I've lived with and experienced a little of the lives of the producers of some of the resources which we consume in the developed world. Natural resources which are generally not being replaced and the removal of which is destroying the environment where they are found. So much money being made with little regard for the communities and environment which is most affected by the removal. Organised crime, murder and so on. And I know that the Amazon is just an example of what is going on everywhere, all over the world. And even if I am not directly involved in the purchase of timber, soya or gold for example, I am involved in some other consumption which will no doubt be doing some other terrible damage to the environment and life in some other corner of the globe. Had we not been potentially affected would I ever have bothered looking behind the curtain of what is going on? Maybe not. But I have looked now, and I've seen some terrible stuff. Symptoms of our individual world of greed and fear, and it's scary.

But I haven't just met the producers of these resources. I've met indigenous people fighting to save their land and other bystanders who are fighting to survive as the forest disappears. I've also met some extraordinary people doing amazing things to help fight the destruction and to highlight the problems. And families and communities who are fighting back in the face of giant corporate power. These people are so inspirational and are at the frontline of the war here.

It's hard to imagine that my journey is now actually over. Scary really. I've worn a radio microphone and had a camera in my face for nearly eight months solid. Keith calculated that I'd had around 700 consecutive meals with workmates. I've almost forgotten that I have got a life and friends back home at all. This whole trip has engulfed my very being. I've lived and breathed the Amazon and this documentary series for three percent of my adult life to date. And now it's over. Bloody hell. What's been going on with the rest of the world for God's sake? How weird. I'll find out soon enough.

So now to the programmes. Hopefully we have been able to show some of these going-ons and highlight the problems of our blind uncontrolled consumerism, but it is hard to do so without making our audiences feel uncomfortable and want to turn over. And it's hard for me to express such findings without showing that I am as much a part of the problem as everyone watching at home. The big editing process is the next phase for those making this series where this sort of fine tuning can be accomplished.

I finally want to thank everyone who has been involved in the making of this epic series. All the researchers and producers, technicians and crew who I've got to know so well. Also those people who have been involved in the making of this website. It's been something of an epic for all concerned and it may be over for me for a little while but it certainly isn't over for everyone else. Thanks guys. It's been emotional.

Let's all take an interest and ethically vote with our wallets as well as the ballot to save the Amazon.

We've done it. We've reached the port of Belem, the gateway of the Amazon, where the mighty river finally meets the Atlantic Ocean. There was a great atmosphere on the boat as we pulled into port at sunrise. Everyone's thoughts are naturally turning towards home, and despite the weeks of exhaustion there's a lovely light feeling in the air.

Bruce and the team film in the greatest river on Earth.

We shot the last scene of the series on the beach where the river meets the ocean. Bruce walked straight into the water fully-clothed and went for a swim in the Atlantic. After finally turning off the cameras, we jumped in the water too, and felt the cool currents of the ocean intermingled with the warm freshwater of the Amazon. It did occur to me briefly that the warm currents were probably raw sewage, but I didn't want to spoil the moment, especially as Bruce had just swallowed some on camera.

To a casual bystander on the beach it must have been a strange sight: a film crew walking into the river, lots of hugs and cheers, and a cool-box with champagne ready for our final toast: to Bruce, and to the Amazon!

Cheers!

We're back on the Amazon on the final leg of the journey. Yesterday we left the Kayapo village of Krinu where we've been staying for the last week and it was an amazing feeling to know that from here on in we're all on the way home...it was quite emotional bumping along the dusty airstrip waving to the Kayapo who came out en masse to say goodbye.

Bruce on the deck of the Castelo Guedes

After landing in Santarem we climbed aboard the Castelo Guedes, a beautiful old-fashioned wooden Amazonian river-boat, to take us down the final stretch of the journey towards the ocean. The music's playing, the beer's flowing, and everyone's smiling. It's very romantic swinging in a hammock at night on the top-deck with a lovely cool breeze and the engine chugging away below.

We have two days filming left and then it's all over.

Bruce contemplates the end of his epic journey with the Kayapo

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Anthropologist Cassio Inglez translates Bruce and Banhire's conversation.

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4.30 am. Pitch dark. The rats were busy scampering around the floor of the crew's hut. A dog howled at the moon. And then scratched. I wondered what woke me, as it started again. Like a drunk on a moonlit backstreet the wail began. A Kayopo elder was calling the tribe to dance. The huts - arranged in a large square of 20 or so - seemed to sleep on regardless. I really wished I could have. The call was incessant. What could be so important? Even the rats took no notice.

Bruce was in his fifth month and still beat us all out into the night. The noise we made must have woken most of Brazil - so not surprisingly, we joined a dozen newly-awakened men around the fire, and filmed Bruce joining in with the chanting. Bleary-eyed we watched as the dawn slowly yawned from the East and Bruce seemed entranced. I love filming sunrises, and as I searched the angles with Rob, Flavio our amazing Fixer searched out the coffee. Heron searched for his trousers.

We had only arrived the day before, and already we were feeling welcome visitors to this majestic, colourful and friendly tribe. As the sun rose, the colour splashed everywhere. The adorned reds and blues of the Macaw feathers blended easily with the long rays stretching over the Brazil-nut trees. The dusty 100-metre square around which the huts were formed soon filled with those early morning activities shared by just about everyone on the planet.

Bruce, as always, was completely accepted by these proud people. Not without their problems, we learnt of their current fight against the building of a huge dam on the Xingu river to power two aluminium smelters. Huge areas of indigenous land would be flooded - the effect on local tribes would be devastating. As would be the effect on the environment. Dams are one of the largest contributors to greenhouse gases.

The ladies of the Kayapo are also warriors. One in particular had become famous for 'blooding' the cheek of a dam engineer during a protest with her machete. A week previously she had bloodied the arm of another engineer at a different protest about the same dam. Two bandages on her machete signified these acts of pure defiance as she gently painted a tattoo onto the arm of a friend. Bruce was anointed with a full body tattoo - a process which took about an hour - and a sunburnt back. The elders called me 'Mikaku', which transpired to be 'armadillo' - and I was duly given a tattoo on my arm - and no sunburn.

Bruce was being prepared for his full naming ceremony and becoming a family member of the Kayapo tribe - all of whom prepared for the ceremony at sunset. The day was full. We were led on a gentle hike up a hill to view the extent of the land the tribe have custody over. Because the land is owned by the government - we were told of the issues the tribe have with farmers intruding - and grazing cattle. We met some of them - and the elders showed an amazing tolerance toward their neighbours - realising of course that the problem lay with the system and the Government. We all hoped that the system understood the depth of knowledge contained within generations of indigenous Indians of their inherited love and guardianship of the forest.

On returning to their village, I got going with my jib-arm. As my camera swung around, all we needed was a few geese to run into the shots on cue and it felt like we were making Doctor Zhivago meets the Emerald Forest. I called this version Lara of the Amazon - mostly because we didn't have much money. We learnt so much of the Kayopo Way that day - but nothing prepared us for the event surrounding Bruce's naming ceremony as the sun began to set. Freshly anointed with a new full-body tattoo, he was crowned with a feather headdress of toucan and macaw by his new Kayapo father and family. Visibly moved, Bruce was led to the square and the dancing began.

The lines of women and men snaked between each other with moves learnt through the dusts of their history - dust which now rose and hung in the magnificence of the setting Amazonian sun. Feather silhouettes adorned painted faces lost in the trance of the singing, and the rhythm of a movement echoing back through the history of their forefathers. Entranced, I focused on Bruce. The depth of his new responsibility both as a son and envoy to this tribe showed in his eyes as he struggled to find words adequate enough to match the moment. He did of course - and as he passed through the sun, I settled on the lady with the bandaged machete. In a word - formidable. I searched for the glint of the sunset on the blade. It was not to be found, so I settled on her face. The glint of defiance and defence of her tribe at any cost made the cutting of a dam-worker's cheek seem insignificant in terms of the lengths she was willing to go to. As she passed through frame, I matched her step and followed her. Slowly my camera moved down from the bloodied machete to the intricate art of the tattoo on her back and settled on the only garment she wore. A pair of bright yellow panties - which through the dust and defiance read 'love' on the right buttock - and 'sexy' on the left. Defiance meets tolerance. The 21st century meets the ways of forest guardianship learned through history. The Brazillian Way meets the Kayapo Way. So much to learn from each other. I hope it's not too late.

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Ceremony and ritual is an incredibly important part of the Kayapo way of life. They believe that by dancing, they are able to go back to a time of mythical origins, and in so doing, recreate the energy and drive they need in order for life to continue. Most of the rituals and ceremonies we took part in seemed similar to each other - to the untrained eye, it was a great deal of chanting in a large circle, men, women and children, sometimes around a fire.

It was the most bizarre thing - at first it looked like it was going to be the same as we'd already seen - the women coming from one side of the village, singing together in a line, taking turns with the men who would dance in a circle. This time though, the women were on their own. The men were watching them from the central hut, goading and laughing with each other.

Suddenly, one man leapt up, shouting, and ran towards the women. Snatching one of them as she screamed and laughed, they then ran together and disappeared into the privacy of a hut. Two minutes later, the same thing happened again with another couple. Then another one. So much for flowers and chatting each other up!

If only it were that easy for the rest of us. I suggest we wake up to this tactic in the UK, do away with our excessive niceties and shy fumblings, and just try running up to the object of our fancy in the pub, snatch him from the crowd, and drag him away to somewhere private. Hey, you never know, it might catch on.

Find out more about the Kayapo

We're on the final main shoot of the series, staying with the Kayapo Indigenous People on their reserve in the south of Para state. They are proud warriors yet at the same time very gentle hosts, and have given us a very warm and traditional welcome.

Today we walked through the forest looking for Brazil nuts - part of the Kayapo's staple diet and also an important source of income. They taste so different to the ones we get at home: they were really moist and quite oily, straight from the forest floor, though the monkeys had got there first, so we had their leftovers.

On the way back, one of the Kayapo elders, a lovely man called Ira, started teaching some of the younger warriors how to recognise medicinal plants. Though I instinctively wanted to film it, our lovely but exhausted cameraman Keith was a long way behind us, so I let it go and just enjoyed observing the medicine lesson, without thinking of it as a TV sequence. It was amazing watching Ira the old warrior impart the Kayapo's traditional knowledge to the youth of the tribe. There were plants for everything: headaches, bad stomachs, sore feet, and even natural forms of contraceptive which the young men gathered up with gusto and a few knowing smiles.

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Bruce takes a walk with the Kayapo...

Find out more about the Kayapo

The Kayapo are known as a warrior Indian tribe and now, more than ever, they're having to fight to preserve their land as cattle ranchers encroach further and further into Indian territory to make way for pasture. While we were there, they took us up the hill close to their reservation. From here, they showed us just how much land close to their reservation had been turned to pasture.

It was pretty alarming stuff. They've been fighting for their land for a long time - the Kayapo were the tribe responsible for the 1989 Altamira protest against a huge dam being proposed to be built on what was essentially their land. Sting and Anita Roddick famously supported the Kayapo's cause and joined in the protest.

Twenty years later the Kayapo are in danger again, not only from cattle ranchers encroaching, but also from new plans for the dam project to be built after all. It's for a good reason they've become known as a warrior tribe. They have a lot to fight for.

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Some Kayapo children give Bruce advice on avoiding sunburn...

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I've only managed to learn a few words so far in Kayapo, but they've taken me out of the realms of desperate hand gestures!

Meikonre: Great, good, fine, how are you, good to see you, I love it, it's beautiful, very good.
A great catch-all word which I use for just about everything. Very useful to have a word such as this when you know absolutely nothing else of a language but want to pretend you do... maybe there's a similar word in Japanese...

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Bruce and the crew take part in traditional Kayapo bodypainting...

Find out more about the Kayapo

We've arrived at the Kayapo village of Krinu. It's my first time staying with an Indian tribe. We got here at dusk, a magical time for the light, catching the straw and wooden huts on the outskirts of the vast dusty circle they're arranged around. It's an impressive space.

Kayapo fields and villages are built in a circle to reflect the Kayapo belief in a round universe. The centre of the world is represented by the central hut, where meetings take place and rituals begin. Their homes are then arranged in a circle around this. Between the homes and the central hut is a circle of dry land where they dance and have their ceremonies.

When we arrive, the kids run around in the dusty heat, curious about us strangers and no doubt wanting to know if we've brought them sweets. One of the girls, Luana, comes straight up to me and takes my hand. I'm already smitten with the Kayapo.

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