Jun 2007

The clothes are washed, the backpacks stashed and the photos (all gazillion of them) stored on the computer. Mentally, though, it's been a slow readjustment from life in Latin America to life back in our Brooklyn apartment.

For our farewell posting, Geoff and I thought it would be cool to intersperse some of the things we've learned over the last three months, a few recommendations for travelers who might find themselves in some of the same countries and a final batch of fun pictures that never made it onto our previous blog entries.

Like this one, in which Monkey, our fearless travel mascot, makes new friends at a bird sanctuary in Copan, Honduras (they're rescued red-lored parrots, by the way, and were rather friendly despite keeping their distance in this photo).

Travel items we're really glad we had: duct tape, rope (surprisingly handy), a Leatherman and pocket knife, Nalgene water bottles and a battery-less handcrank LED flashlight (particularly useful during Central America's frequent power outages).

Items we could have done without: our mosquito netting and water purification filter, both completely unnecessary and a big waste of space.

Chile's Torres del Paine National Park and the Argentinian side of Iguazu Falls were probably our favorite natural wonders, with Guatemala's Lago Atitlan, Nicaragua's Isla de Ometepe and the high mountain passes along Peru's Inca Trail claiming honorable mention.

Machu Picchu in Peru, Copan in Honduras and Antigua in Guatemala had the best ruins and the Galapagos Islands were by far the most spectacular location for wildlife, though Corcovado National Park in Costa Rica and Chalalan Ecolodge in Bolivia's Madidi National Park were also remarkable. And, of course, Geoff's Holy Grail of birds (the resplendant quetzal) appeared to us in the vicinity of northern Panama's terrific Amistad and Volcan Baru National Parks.

As for our more intimate wildlife encounters, here's a peek at one of the smaller tarantula specimens that shared a cabin with us on Nicaragua's Isla de Ometepe, here gracefully posing near an arrangement of local flowers.

Not to be outdone, this white-faced capuchin monkey gave us a nice view of its pearly whites while blocking our way in Costa Rica's Corcovado National Park (we eventually had to detour around the rather grumpy monkey rather than risk being pounced on).

And who could forget the chickens? What, you don't remember them? Here's a picture of Geoff generously feeding trail mix to some chickens in Chile's Huerquehue National Park. Note the ones flocking to him from half the country. Our original posting of that intimate encounter has a follow-up photo in which we're running for our lives. OK, actually jogging as I was laughing too hard to go very fast.

Of the 11 Latin American countries we visited for more than a few hours, our favorite is still Guatemala. Beautiful handicrafts, a strong and vibrant indigenous culture and incredibly friendly people have made us vow to go back someday. As for South America, we'd love to explore the northern half of Chile (no more chickens, though, please) and see more of southern Peru and Bolivia.

In Bolivia, we learned from a mural celebrating the joys of polio vaccination that painful or uncomfortable experiences can ultimately be good for you (note the gray sponge-like flying viruses and the delighted smile on the child with the syringe protruding from his rear end).

Of the several dozen hotels, inns, guest houses, lodges and hostels where we stayed, we would steer other folks well clear of only three: Hotel Modelo in Quetzaltenango, Guatemala (at least the sketchy wing where we stayed), the dismal and warren-like Hostal Jose Luis in Lima, Peru and El Castillo in Santiago, Chile (more on this gem later).

On the other hand, we loved Casa del Mundo in Jaibalito, Guatemala (on the shores of Lago Atitlan) and the Los Quetzales Lodge-owned cabins in the cloud forests of Guadelupe, Panama, for their jaw-dropping locations and views; La Montana y El Valle in Boquete, Panama, for its obsessive attention to detail and incredible pampering; and the boutique hotels of Indigo in Puerto Natales, Chile, plus Buenos Aires' BoBo Hotel & Restaurant and Vain. In the budget category, we were particularly impressed with Hotel Aranjuez in San Jose, Costa Rica, despite its ridiculously complicated reservation policy, and with Lazy Bones in Leon, Nicaragua (rooms are bare-bones but the place has tons of perks for the price).

In Nicaragua, we also learned that you should never, ever lose your head - like the headless priest lovingly portrayed at a museum dedicated to local legends and folklore (the giant golden crab is a whole other story).

As for restaurants, the only big disappointment was in Uruguay's Colonia de Sacramento, where an attractive and well-located restaurant called Pulperia Los Faroles served food that was only a half-step up from a high school cafeteria lunch. On the other end of the scale, we had fantastic meals at Ego in Panama City's Casco Viejo; La Montana y El Valle in Boquete, Panama; Buenos Aires' Cabana Las Lilas and BoBo; and Hacienda San Lucas in Copan, Honduras.

In Honduras, we also learned that it's often best to hang in there, even upsidedown and especially on ziplines positioned well above the Copan River Valley.

As for cities, we absolutely loved Antigua in Guatemala and were able to find something we really liked in nearly every other city: the partially restored elegance of Nicaragua's dueling colonial powers, Leon and Granada; Panama City's equally fascinating colonial neighborhood, Casco Antiguo; the revitalized Calle Ronda barrio in Quito's Old Town and the terrific new Malecon 2000 waterfront promenade in Guayaquil; Lima's great pre-Columbian museum treasures and La Paz's vibrant street life; the Recoleta cemetery, San Telmo antique fair and cafe culture of Buenos Aires; and the remarkable mix of Catholic and Quecha cultures in Cuzco.

If pressed, however, we might admit to being less than infatuated with the razor wire and metal bar-fortified capital of Tegulchigalpa in Honduras or Chile's capital of Santiago. Our feelings for Santiago, sadly, might have been tainted by our accidental stay in a glorified love motel our first night there - the kind of place, a motel worker informed Geoff, where most clients prefer to pay by the hour. If early-morning sounds are any indication, several other guests were definitely getting their money's worth.

Oops. Live and learn.

In Argentina, we also learned that sometimes you have to risk taking a plunge to really get the most out of a vacation. Or rather, monkey did.

And in Ecuador, we learned that sometimes you just have to stick you neck out. Or not. At least not while silly tourists and their freaky monkey are around. Er.

Thanks for staying tuned these past three months. It's been a great ride.

Geoff and Bryn

Maybe it was when we were hovering three feet above a dozen white-tipped reef sharks, parked on the shallow seafloor like race cars at a drive-in. Or surveying the odd mating rituals of blue-footed boobies who were so close we could tell their sex from the size of their pupils. Or trailing a Pacific green sea turtle seemingly flying through a crystal-clear bay, or snorkeling with playful Galapagos penguins or witnessing the melodramatic reunion of a mother Galapagos sea lion with her frantic pup.

It's so hard to pick one defining image from our week in the Galapagos Islands, because we were surrounded every day by brand new scenes of mating, courtship, territorial disputes, hunting, death and just about every facet of life mere feet in front of us. Flightless cormorants protecting their eggs from water-starved mockingbirds, known to steal tourists' water bottles. A bright orange Sally lightfoot crab scavenging a dead marine iguana while a spotted Eage ray glides by in a shallow cove. A blue-footed booby diving at top speed amid the boats in a harbor to hunt for fish. Wave albatrosses jousting with their beaks like a re-enactment of a Shakespearean sword fight. Even Bryde's whales - mother and calf - breaching so close to the boat that we could see her twist in the water so her calf could suckle.

For the most part, the wildlife treated us as harmless curiosities - or in the case of the sea lions and the penguins, as potential playmates (this lack of fear of humans, unfortunately, has contributed to the extinctions or near-extinctions of several over-hunted species). Remarkably, though, we also saw new species at every stop, a testiment to the unique flora and fauna not only of the entire island chain but also of specific islands within the archipelago.

I've included a bunch of photos that will hopefully give a glimpse at the amazing wildlife we were lucky enough to observe during our week-long voyage on the Letty (part of the fleet of Ecoventura; ironically, our cabin was on the booby deck). During our trip, we were also continually reminded of Darwin's keen observations from his chapter on the Galapagos in "The Voyage of the Beagle" (for anyone who's interested, you can read the chapter here.)

We were particularly struck by the following passage, which ends the chapter:

In regard to the wildness of birds towards man, there is no way of accounting for it, except as an inherited habit: comparatively few young birds, in any one year, have been injured by man in England, yet almost all, even nestlings, are afraid of him; many individuals, on the other hand, both at the Galapagos and at the Falklands, have been pursued and injured by man, yet have not learned a salutary dread of him. We may infer from these facts, what havoc the introduction of any new beast of prey must cause in a country, before the instincts of the indigenous inhabitants have become adapted to the stranger's craft or power.

Despite the prescient warning, the Galapagos archipelago really is a dream-like place, full of life and wonder and the kind of inspiration that would fuel Darwin's landmark theory of evolution. But enough rhapsodizing. Here's a sampling of what we actually saw.

A Galapagos sea lion basks in the sun on the tiny but beautiful islet of Mosquera.

A nesting red-footed booby reveals its colorful face and beak on the birder's paradise of Genovesa Island.

A bachelor Nazca booby male croons for a potential mate (actually, more of a throaty whistle).

A male frigatebird also does his best to impress the ladies by puffing out his enormous red airsac. We saw so many of these across Genovesa Island it was like a scene from Nena's "99 Luftballoons" video.

Monkey (our travel mascot) made some new friends as well, but was careful to avoid being sprayed as his marine iguana buddies sneezed saltwater across the rocks.

Yes, a face only a mother could love. Or perhaps not, since they are reptiles after all.

The Galapagos Islands aren't just about wildlife. Here's a view from the beautiful but nearly desolate island of Bartolome looking toward Santiago Island. Recognize the view? It figures prominently in the movie "Master and Commander."

There are actually two species of sea lions in the Galapagos. Here's a mother and pup Galapagos fur seal (actually sea lions despite the name) spending some quality time together on Santiago Island.

Not to be left out, here's one of the island chain's famous icons, a Galapagos tortoise, posing in a Santa Cruz pond with a white-cheeked pintail duck. Of the tortoises we saw, all were either in breeding facilities or in semi-wild conditions, where maintained pools of water would lure them within easy viewing distance of tourists.

We did see Lonesome George, by the way, though he is notoriously anti-social and hasn't been persuaded to father any progeny or even to donate some tortoise sperm, despite the best efforts of a Scandinavian woman who valiantly tried to get him to do just that, even going so far as to cover herself in female tortoise feces while massaging his tail. Can you imagine what her resume says?

Seriously, though, the extinction of several tortoise subspecies on specific islands due to overhunting and to introduced species such as goats is heartbreaking, though we heard about several success stories in rescuing some tortoises from the brink. Here's hoping that trend continues.

On the island of Espanola, where a breeding program founded in the 60's has prompted a remarkable tortoise comeback, blue-footed boobies often steal the show, such as this potential couple. The male, on the right, is "sky pointing" with his wings. He whistles, she honks, he presents her with twigs. It's all very endearing.

The island chain also features some dramatic rock formations, like this one known as Leon Dormido, or "Sleeping Lion." It's also referred to as the name of a popular brand of shoes, which is perhaps more fitting. Either way, we saw a pod of Bryde's whales surface right in front of the formation, then took a thrilling inflatable boat ride around the rocks and through an opening between them, spying sea birds, Sally lightfoot crabs, fur seals and Spotted Eagle rays.

Our wildlife sightings continued through the final day, where this sea lion pup that had almost completely recovered from a nasty shark bite surveyed us from the dock on Baltra Island.

Some fellow tourists on our boat complained that we really hadn't seen a land iguana in the wild (only some in a breeding facility). On cue, we spotted one slowly ambling across the airport runway just moments before we took off.

Our week in the Galapagos was bookended by brief stays in two of Ecuador's major cities: Quito, high in the Andes, and Guayaquil, a lowland riverside metropolis. Each city is vastly different, but we really liked both of them and were impressed by recent revitalizations of funky neighborhoods and Guayaquil's fantastic riverside promenade. Here's a view of Quito's Plaza de la Independencia in the city's up-and-coming Old Town, looking toward the Cathedral.

Sadly, our Ecuadorian adventure capped our 97-day-long odyssey through Central and South America. Perhaps I'll recap some highlights, lowlights, and helpful suggestions tomorrow. But for now, this picture perhaps sums up our feelings about three amazing months coming to an end.

Yes, we're both a bit crabby. But we'll get over it - eventually.