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

Monkey Business, Love Motels and Keeping Your Head remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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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.

Galapagos Dreaming remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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"Amigo, masaje?" (Friend, massage?)

We´ve since heard the pitch maybe 40 times, and are all but certain that massages are not what´s really being offered.

It´s virtually impossible to cross the very pretty main plaza in Cuzco without encountering frantic requests to buy a "massage," or perhaps attend an adult-oriented show, or contribute to a child´s foreign coin collection, or invest in finger puppets, postcards, "original" paintings or a woolen alpaca hat. At some point, a light jog becomes necessary to evade the hordes, who have yelled out on occasion, "Maybe later? Maybe next year?"

The llama-like alpaca, incidentally, seem to have copied their faces from the Ewoks on "Return of the Jedi." Or maybe vice-versa.

Anyway, Cuzco has continued the theme of strange but intensely fascinating cultural pairings in Bolivia and Peru. At some stores, for example, you can buy dolls of sobbing children who have bloodied their feet after stepping on large thorns. Based on our limited Spanish, the symbolism seems to be both religious and superstitious. At others, you can purchase explicit paintings of the Virgin breastfeeding baby Jesus. Still others offer grotesque masks of colonists (used during festivals), including one of an ugly man with um, his private parts where his nose should be.

The real show-stoppers, though, are the amazing Inca walls (one large stone boasts 12 precisely carved sides to allow it to fit precisely with its neighbors) and the elaborate Catholic churches, the latter often purposefully built upon the solid foundations of destroyed Incan temples.

We´ve tended to agree with the common sentiment here that it´s very fortunate the Spanish conquistadors never found Machu Picchu. Otherwise, the Inca Trail might lead to nothing more than another extremely large cathedral.

Here´s the obligatory picture of us after finally reaching the site. Fortunately, it´s not possible to smell us:

And here´s another of our first glimpse of the ruins, once the thick morning fog finally began to dissipate.

And here´s a sample of the amazing orchids we saw along the way. This one is called "Forever Young," and a great Incan ruin not far from Machu Picchu shares the same name.

In the Bolivian town of Copacabana, home of the famous Virgin of Copacabana icon and the daily blessing of the cars, the gigantic cathedral has borrowed heavily from Moorish designs, while old women sell Ekeko dolls (god of plenty) right in front of the large cathedral plaza.

First, the cathedral:

And the Ekeko-themed stall with miniature homes and cars:

The cathedral, by the way, was located in the town because of the supreme importance of the nearby Isla del Sol, where the Incas believed the sun was born. We spent a night there, and couldn´t resist snapping a picture of a local boy riding his somewhat stubborn donkey.

The significance of other oddities has been mostly lost on us, but makes them no less interesting.

In the Cuzco church of San Blas, where a beautifully carved cedar pulpit includes cupids with arms bent backwards and (according to legend) the skull of its creator, the custodians have apparently forgotten to turn up the heat. A statue of a bishop or other important church figure comes complete with bright red knit gloves, while a small statue of Jesus sports a knit woolen hat.

Perhaps our favorite bizarre moment of all came on the train from Aguas Calientes (a town below Machu Picchu from which nearly all travelers depart). At one point, our train porter went to the bathroom and reemerged as ... Captain Cuzco!*

• (Very likely not his real name)

The cultural significance of this transformation was lost on us, but we think it may have had something to do with selling alpaca wool products. At any rate, he danced down the aisle in a red hat and white ski mask (made of the finest alpaca wool, no doubt) and wielded a large stuffed alpaca that he would thrust in the faces of passengers, inviting them to pet it.

Here´s a close-up:

After his spirited show, our two stewards also disappeared into the bathroom and re-emerged ... for an alpaca wool fashion show, set to the disco remix of the flowerchild classic, "If You´re Going to San Francisco."

You just can´t make this stuff up.

Finger Puppets, Sketchy Massages and Captain Cuzco remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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On our trek with the local outfitter United Mice, we started hiking with our guides Sol and Josef through a semi-arid Peruvian landscape dotted with cacti and Spanish moss-covered trees, then climbed 1,200 meters to a 4,200 meter-high pass (named Dead Woman Pass after the suggestive shape of the mountain peaks).

Then down to a cloud forest dense with orchids and wildflowers and finally down yesterday morning to the well-preserved religious and farming complex of Machu Picchu. Along the route, we passed some beautiful mountain vistas and more than a half-dozen other Incan ruins of varying size, nearly all requiring large and well-shaped rocks to be hauled up steep slopes. Nearly as amazing (and a tad guilt-inducing), we feasted on surprisingly good and fancy food the whole time and watched in awe as our group´s 15 porters nearly sprinted past us on the trail while carrying tents, tables, chairs, food, propane tanks and our extra bags.

Machu Picchu itself was humbling. Dozens of terraces thought to be used like greenhouses for domesticating crops climb up the side of a mountain, with interspersed religious buildings and the remains of housing for an estimated 600 people. The wood and grass roofs are long gone, but some of the solid and precisely-built walls look almost new (Incan walls have apparently survived numerous earthquakes in Cuzco while many of the city´s colonial buildings collapsed).

As a final test, we climbed up the steep Wayna Picchu mini-mountain that overlooks the site. Unbelievably, there are well-preserved Incan ruins there too - at heights that required holding onto a cable to ascend and made more than a few hikers cry.

The experience was marred only by learning that Machu Picchu´s incredible Incan aqueducts and fountains, still fully functional after nearly 600 years, have been reduced to a mere trickle by a luxury hotel that has received permission to redirect the water for the exclusive use of its pampered guests. Nearly as outrageous, we learned that the famous Inca sun dial, vaguely resembling a modern chair and positioned in one of the most important religious temples, was chipped on one corner when a camera fell on it during the filming of a beer commercial.

During the past week, from Bolivia to Peru, we´ve learned a lot about the power of icons and symbols, and how easily they can be manipulated. The Inca Trail, we learned, represents just a fraction of tens of thousands of kilometers of Inca-built trails, designed to help rulers consolidate and retain their power as the empire grew.

Back in Bolivia´s Madidi National Park (last week´s adventure), we learned just how incredibly diverse the Amazon jungle can be when we saw three monkey species we had never seen before, including up-close views of brown capuchin monkeys, red howler monkeys and common squirrel monkeys. If anything helps preserve the Amazon, maybe the ecotourism promise of seeing cute monkeys - icons of the jungle - may do the trick.

In La Paz, we learned that it´s possible to receive an obviously fake 100 Bolivianos bill (about $12 US) ... from a bank´s ATM machine. Needless to say, the country has a teensy problem with counterfeit currency.

In the small town of Copacabana, Bolivia (the original Copacabana, by the way), we learned from a colorful wall mural celebrating polio vaccinations that the only truly happy child is one with a large syringe protruding from his bare bottom. In the same town, it´s possible to buy small statues of Ekeko, the mustachioed god of household plenty, who carries a bundle of miniature cash, food, comfy bedding, and other longed-for domestic goods. If you don´t fancy him, you can buy dollhouse-sized stores, homes or a tiny suitcase with international money and passports to increase your chances of a round-the-world trip.

Right behind the stall selling Ekeko and his accessories, incidentally, is the town´s humongous Moorish-style cathedral, where you can have your car blessed in the mornings and where the famous carved Virgen de Copacabana icon can be seen in all her glory on a large lazy Susan that swivels out from a small upper chapel to the main altar of the cathedral on special occasions.

The unusual set-up, according to our guide, is intended to prevent actual movement of the icon, since the last time someone tried to transport the Virgin (to the Vatican to be blessed by the Pope in the 1800s), a huge storm shipwrecked the boat and killed all but two priests who salvaged her and managed to swim to what they subsequently named Copacabana Beach in Brazil. According to legend, moving her again will trigger catastrophic floods.

Next door, in a crypt-like chapel where the walls have been blackened from all the candle-lit prayer requests, devotees have drawn some of their specific requests to the Virgin with candle wax on the walls, including a very artistic drawing of a home with a huge satellite dish.

It´s remarkable to me how often South American cultures, from the introduced Catholic religion to the homegrown Incan empire, assimilated the icons of defeated civilizations to help convert and control people. The Incas, for example, borrowed heavily in their architecture and iconography from earlier cultures that they eventually overran, even taking as their own an existing god of creation to be worshipped by nobility. The Catholic church, for its part, frequently allowed Incan symbols to appear in religious art in order to smooth the way for converting new followers. Over and over, we´ve seen Mary depicted as the equivalent of Pacha Mama (Mother Earth), complete with a large sun behind her head, a moon at her feet or bosom, and a flared-out dress that resembles a mountain in shape.

And in the Cuzco Cathedral, a famous painting of the Last Supper contains a local specialty as the main course: whole roast guinea pig, with its legs sticking up from the platter as Jesus and the disciples look on. In another painting, a serpent appears beneath the Virgin and child (snakes were important Incan symbols), with tropical birds and what look like llamas behind her. Finally, the wonderfully detailed choir stall in the cathedral contains carvings of important saints and martyrs. Beneath them,though, are what look like naked pregnant women. Upon closer inspection, the naked statues contain both female and male parts, symbolizing the important Incan concept of male-female duality.

It´s not entirely clear whether the naughty wood carver pulled one over on the church, or whether the powers that be simply looked the other way.

Icons of Power remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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"Sandro, I can´t climb trees!"

That was Julia, the extremely pleasant but more than slightly nervous British tourist who had accompanied her husband and son as well as Geoff and I on a hike through Madidi National Park.

Sandro was our amazing guide, whose indigenous community has lived in the park for 500 years and now owns and wholly operates Chalalan Ecolodge, a jungle lodge located five hours up two tributaries of the Amazon River.

And the concern over climbing trees was voiced because we were being approached by a herd of 150 white-lipped peccaries, sharp-toothed wild pigs prone to unsettling grunting and clacking noises - and of a more immediate concern, the same type of wild pigs that once ate an unlucky hunter from Sandro´s village.

"Don´t worry," Sandro said, and grinned.

One of the great successes of the lodge - apart from not having to deal with five recently eaten gringos - is that conservation of the jungle has fundamentally altered the dynamic between humans and animals.

Peccaries, for example, were highly aggressive when hunted. Like stinky Hoovers, they´ll eat anything they encounter, especially a hunter threatening one of their own.

Left alone in Madidi, however, they have lost their aggression toward people and are now rather skittish when they smell the unfamiliar human scent. Mortal danger has now been replaced with the thrilling, though undeniably heart-pounding spectacle of having an enormous herd of wild animals milling within yards of you, and then counting them when they dart across the trail in front of you like dirty sheep on speed.

More broadly, the creation of the park in 1995 and of Chalalan in 2000 has provided a model for low-impact and community-run ecotourism and lifted Sandro´s village out of dire poverty. The lodge now employs about 80 of the village´s 450 residents. They have a health clinic and are practicing sustainable agriculture. And last year, the village celebrated its first high school graduating class (of five students).

Of course, most people come to the jungle to see birds and animals, and the lodge didn´t disappoint. Apart from our close encounter with the peccaries, Sandro helped us see more than 70 species of birds, including several species of brilliantly colored macaws. On the banks of the River Tuichi, we saw capybaras (a rodent the size of a small pony). And on a night canoe trip across Laguna Chalalan, we saw the glowing red eyes of dozens of caimans (like adolescent crocodiles). Best of all, we got up close and personal with four Amazon tree boas hanging from branches around the lake and waiting to ambush bats and birds. The largest of the snakes was more than nine feet long.

Here´s a picture of Geoff bravely paddling across the lake by day. We also swam in it, though not at night.

We´re now back in La Paz, Bolivia, after our jungle adventure, readjusting to the altitude. At 3,660 meters above sea level, it´s the highest capital city in the world and enough to give you a pounding headache. From our high-rise hotel, the city appears like a huge stadium, with the city center in a high basin and the poorer suburbs crawling up the even higher hillsides all around it. At night, the lights on the hills all around the city are absolutely enchanting. And by day, there are plenty of exotic sights, like the stalls in the witches´ market that sell love potions, dried herbs, candy, talismans, figurines of Pachamama (Mother Earth) and dried llama fetuses.

We held back on buying any fetuses, but were told that burying one in the foundation of a new building or home will offer protection. So now you know.

Tomorrow, we´re off to northern Bolivia and Lago Titicaca (highest lake in the world). But first, here are some scenes from the past two weeks.

Here´s an interesting street mural in Santiago, Chile that depicts the initiation rites of the now extinct indigenous tribe of Chile´s Tierra del Fuego island (on the right). Adolescent boys would dress as incarnations of various gods as part of their journey to manhood. Sadly, only a few old photos and artistic depictions remain to document them.

And here are two views of the spectacular Iguazu Falls. First, note the location of the catwalk on the Argentinian side of the mind-blowing Garganta del Diablo (Devil´s Throat).

Here´s an overview of another section of the falls (Union Falls) from the Brazilian side.

And finally, here are two scenes from Buenos Aires. The first is of a well-fed cat scratching amid the statues and mausoleums of the Recoleta Cemetery, where Evita Peron is buried.

And the second is of the much livelier (sorry, couldn´t help it) Sunday antique market in Buenos Aires, where stall displays are like works of art. This one was selling antique soda siphons.

Wild Pigs and Dried Llamas remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Restaurant menus here give you lots of options, but they´re mainly designed to show you all the tasty side dishes you can order with the different cuts of your big slab of beef. We´ve had some magnificent steak, as well as sausage and pork and prosciutto, though I imagine it´s a bit more difficult for vegans.

Although it was disorienting to wander around such a big city after touring the countryside, Santiago´s colorful street life and take on public art made for some fun walks. The scam artists, not so fun. Especially the "I´m a university professor, or student, or someone somehow affiliated with a school and I´m helping autistic children by handing out sappy poems and asking for donations" trick and the "No, really, that was a 1,000 Chilean pesos note you gave me for the cab ride and not the 10,000 note that you´re quite, quite sure you handed me" scam.

Poorer, but wiser.

At any rate, Santiago boasts a great pre-Colombian art museum featuring intricate ceramics and textiles, gold and silver figurines and a wonderfully creepy statue of a warrior wearing a full monkey skin over his own. Unexpectedly, the museum also has a fascinating exhibition on well-preserved woven hats that once identified the various communities of the country´s northern desert region.

Buenos Aires has wiled us with its own charms, including some top-notch museums and cafes. One of the best exhibitions, oddly enough, was the modern art museum´s display of photographs by New York artist David LaChapelle, including a brilliant one of transexual Amanda Lepore done up like Andy Warhol´s Liz Taylor. Here´s one from the same series. Warning: most of his other works are a bit more challenging.

We´ve been staying at some fun hotels in the city´s Palermo neighborhood, which is apparently so trendy that they briefly tried to name one section Palermo Brooklyn (no kidding). One of our favorite places, though, has been a much, much less lively district in a neighborhood called Recoleta. Specifically, it´s the Recoleta Cemetery, a fascinating necropolis of Argentina´s well-heeled set - including, of course, Evita Peron. The angel statues and crypts and mini-monuments are grand, if a bit spooky, though the dozens of friendly cats residing on the premises seem particularly well cared-for.

Earlier today, we walked through the neighborhood of San Telmo, which hosts a weekend antique fair with stalls upon stalls of old coins, dolls, swords, colored soda siphons, wooden shoe molds, lace, and just about anything else you can imagine. Interspersed with the stalls and street artists and human statues were some really good tango bands and dancers putting on shows for the crowds. A great way to spend the afternoon.

One of the best days, though, was the 24-hour side trip we took to Iguazu Falls, which straddle the border between Argentina and Brazil. The falls were, in a word, mind-bogglingly breathtaking.

OK, three words. But there´s really no way to adequately describe how the pit of your stomach drops out much more than with any roller coaster-induced case of the butterflies when you´re standing on a metal catwalk that´s taken you across a series of islands and has now ended less than five feet above a gigantic horseshoe-shaped torrent of rushing water heading straight down into an abyss that appears to be a seething mass of foam and spray and a gazillion gallons of water.

Niagra Falls is a garden hose compared to this - according to one guide, there can be up to 260 individual falls in the whole Iguazu complex depending on the amount of rainfall. A one-kilometer catwalk ends at the biggest continuous stretch of them, the horseshoe-shaped Devil´s Throat, which is very aptly named. And incredibly, hundreds of swifts are diving down into this roaring pit, where they actually live behind some of the walls of water.

After seeing the falls during the day, we took advantage of the nearly full moon and returned for a special moonlight tour. No lights, just the moon and starlight for the hike across the catwalk and out to the very edge of the falls, which seemed even more awesome as they plunged beneath us while managing to send up large billowing clouds of fine spray.

And speaking of butterflies, they first appeared on the Iguazu airport tarmac and were soon fluttering all around us, landing on us, decorating the car windshield (unfortunately unavoidable), and accompanying us virtually everywhere we went until we flew back to Buenos Aires. They included dozens of different species in seemingly every color and design, like one with brilliant orange spots on a black background and another called an Eightyeight because of the cool "88" design on its wings.

Apart from the butterflies and some interesting new bird species, we saw plenty of the raccoon-like coatamundis and a rather large crocodile in a quieter tributary of the river. We were able to visit both the Argentinian and Brazilian sides of the falls and enjoyed each (Argentina for its up-close access and Brazil for the panoramic views), though we were a bit put off by Brazil´s theme park approach to the falls, and more than a little saddened by a display stating matter-of-factly that the entire region one of the most biodiverse in Brazil, has lost an estimated 97 percent of its forest cover since 1930.

Here´s fervently hoping that the remaining three percent can manage to hang on.

Waterfalls, Scam Artists and Evita remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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After our triumphant hiking adventure in Patagonia´s Torres del Paine, we were treated to more spectacular mountain scenery on our drive through Chile´s Lake District, though we also endured our second volcano flop of the trip. Unlike our failure in Nicaragua due to excessive flabbiness, however, high winds forced us to abort the scaling of the very symmetrical and very active Volcan Villarrica after about an hour of climbing. The pity is that we could have slid down the mountainside in the snow, using pickaxes as brakes. More or less.

As a nice consolation, we discovered a fantastic complex of volcano-heated thermal springs in a waterfall-fed canyon called Termas Geometricas. We spent the rest of the afternoon hopping from pool to pool, enjoying the Japanese-style design with its rustic red-painted changing sheds and walkways - and only reluctantly left what has been the hottest water we´ve yet found in the country.

On our week-long tour of the scenic Lake District (south of Santiago) we also sampled some very nice lager beer, sauerkrat and pork sandwiches in the heavily German-influenced region. One of our best lunches, in fact, was at a chain restaurant called Bavaria. To our great disappointment, though, the waiters did not wear lederhosen.

And then there are the dogs. Chileans love them, but seem to be incapable of keeping them in any one location for very long. Hence entire packs of what look like extras from a lovable Disney movie endlessly roam the nation´s streets, yards, highways, woods, riversides and any other accessible surface. Fortunately, they´re quite friendly, and several only half-heartedly tried chasing our car while a small army of floppy-eared mutts looked on with only mild interest.

As we´ve found, the country´s many mountains represent only a small fraction of Chile´s natural beauty. Near the resort town of Pucon, we spent a day in the lovely and well-maintained Huerquehue National Park where we hiked up to a lake ringed by old-growth monkey puzzle trees, or araucaria. We had seen one or two of these odd-looking evergreens in botanical gardens but never so many big ones growing wild. Very impressive. Here´s a view of the lake in the late afternoon sun.

Also noteworthy is the beautiful but otherwise deserted wooden lodge where we stayed in the park that night and where we enjoyed a superb wine-accompanied dinner. Despite its many attractions, it listed as its prime amenity the unusual fact that it served real coffee rather than Nescafe instant for breakfast. Priorities, priorities.

Geoff has been gradually adding to his list of new bird sightings, with some colorful ibises and species spotted in the Chilean countryside. Other species have apparently sensed his affection for avian life and sought him out like an old friend. Hiking back to our rental car from the park lodge, for example, he was befriended by a flock of local chickens residing on park-bordering farms, who were really, really reluctant to let him leave after he fed them some delicious trail mix. Here´s a nice shot of them in hot pursuit, seemingly screaming, "Ah, kind sir, just a bit more?!!"

After our narrow escape, we headed down to Chiloe, a large and very atmospheric island known for its fishing, folklore and a collection of antique, Jesuit built, wood-shingled churches that have been preserved as a UNESCO world heritage site. As with the rest of the Lake District, we had nearly every tourist spot to ourselves and encountered plenty of dogs and Nescafe. The old churches were indeed fascinating, though several of them were populated only by giant black vultures perched atop their steeples.

We´re now in Santiago, which is quite large but vibrant and full of interesting art. The city´s museum of pre-Colombian art is nop-notch and apart from preserved textiles, burial urns, and a wonderful sculpture of a monkey skin-wearing warrrior, contains some really old pots that were undoubtedly used for the country´s first batches of instant coffee.

Stray Dogs and Nescafe remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Our four-day trek through Chile's Torres del Paine national park required frequent last-minute changes of plan, waterproof jackets, pants and backpack covers and most importantly, a complete indifference to clothes and boots that reeked of cheese left in a hot car for several weeks.

After a few days of less-than-ideal weather, however, we lucked out with a magnificent view of the park's three iconic towers on our last, stunningly beautiful day.

(First, though, one image from Lima, Peru, where the facade of the beautiful La Merced chuch formed a striking counterpoint to a military statue across the square):

Even before officially entering Torres del Paine, we saw three of the big five animals inhabiting the area: several guanacos, which are essentially llamas; the Chilean condor; and the nandu or lesser rhea, a smaller cousin of the ostrich. Which leaves the puma and a small deer species, both of which were apparently smart enough to take cover in the foul weather. We're also fairly sure we spotted a few Chilean flamingoes, which were likely regretting their decision to dawdle a bit more before heading north with the rest of the flock.

The most popular hiking route through the park is a W-shaped trail, with the towers most visible at the W's final tip. Due to the lousy weather, though, the park rangers suggested we save them for last, which ended up being great advice. A brief recap:

Day one: Our first icebergs. After donning our so-called rain-proof outfits and backpack covers that made us look like workers responding to a chemical spill, we caught a catamaran across a lake and slogged 11 kilometers in the rain and snow past another large lake to a rustic refugio. The smallish cabin was a bit like a ramshackle skiing lodge, with bunkbeds crammed into tiny upstairs rooms and a common space with a small fireplace on the ground floor. The skies cleared a bit toward the end of the day, and we were able to admire the impressive Glacier Grey, which has scoured away the rock around it even as it retreats, leaving large blue icebergs floating in the slowly expanding Lago Grey. Monkey, our travel mascot, had a particularly nice view.

Day two: We began with a nice hike to get to a closer vantage point of the glacier.

After much oohing and ahhing, we headed back the way we had come and stayed in the far cushier Paine Grande refugio - about 19 kilometers of hiking in all. After blissfully hot showers and an impressive dinner, we were able to get to know some of our fellow travelers a bit more (a big hello to Gareth and Suzanne from London, Marilou and Wilbert from Amsterdam, Luis from Madrid and Eric from Beijing). Clothes were beginning to have that not-so-fresh aroma.

Day three: A bit of a washout. We had planned to hike a good bit of the base of the W and see the "not to be missed" Valle Frances. After an hour of hiking through pelting rain and gusts that easily topped 60 miles an hour, we were completely soaked, absolutely miserable and unanimous in our decision to miss the valley in favor of another boat and bus ride to a brand new and rather warm refugio that would at least allow us a shot of the seeing the towers the following day. Clothes had a rather indescribable fragrance.

Day four: A welcome break in the weather. A pre-dawn hike led us up through pasture land, around a mountain, into the woods and finally, after a precarious and exhausting scramble up a steep pile of icy boulders that ranks as one of the more adventurous things we've yet done, we were rewarded with a spectacular view of the three towers and a small lake below them. Despite the howling wind and our aching muscles, we were able to savor the sight and bask in the sunshine with our hiking companions, Gareth, Suzanne and Eric:

We're now recovering at a wonderful hotel called Indigo with impressive views of Puerto Natale's Last Hope Fjord, and the clothes have been thankfully banished to a laundry service.

Towers of Pain remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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OK, not quite, but as far south as either of us has ever been. In the last few days, we´ve gone from the tropics of Panama City to Lima, Peru via Miami and then on to Santiago, Chile and down to the rather chilly Patagonian cities of Punta Arenas and Puerto Natales. Tomorrow, we begin a four-day hike through Chile´s Torres del Paine National Park, and are hoping that it won´t snow again so we can access all the trails.

Going from nearly 90 degrees to less than 40 has been a bit of a shock, but southern Chile is lovely despite the weather.

During the lesss than 24 hours we spent in Lima, we did dine on less then appetizing guinea pig but also visited some beautiful churches and the Larco Herrera museum, which had possibly the most amazing collection of ceramics I´ve ever seen. All were pre-Columbian pots, some sporting amazingly sophisticated scenes, colors and glazes. And the storehouse of extra ceramics not on display is jaw-dropping, with row upon row of perfectly preserved jars arranged by topic: scenes of bats, monkeys, one bird, two birds, husband and wife drinking in their house, and so on.

The museum even has an entire wing devoted to erotic art, including several scenes that would make Hugh Hefner blush and a section of skeletons, um, doing the nasty.

Whereas parts of Lima seemed like a never-ending U.S. suburb, I´m sure that Chile´s Puerto Natales would remind us of northern Europe if we had ever been there. The fairly modern city lies on a pretty fjord with snow-capped mountains in the background. It´s also rather colder than we were expecting, but we´re excited to have a closer view of the beautiful mountains starting tomorrow. Stay tuned ...

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To be fair, much of the archipelago of Bocas del Toro outside of the main towns seems fairly well protected and is still teeming with wildlife. While there, an indigenous guide in the small community of Salt Creek on Bastimentos Island took us to see impossibly cute Western night monkeys, a very cool black and white owl, nearly crocodile-sized caimans partially submerged in a murky pond and thumb-sized bright red poison dart frogs.

And after a wonderful snorkeling session during which we saw a fish that could only be properly described as a small purple disco ball, a mother and baby bottle-nosed dolphin began playing in the wake of our motorboat, encouraging our driver to maneuver into wide circles so the baby dolphin could draft behind the boat, occasionally trying out its jumping abilities.

Panama City couldn´t be more different, with a Miami-ish feel to all of its palm trees and high rises. The city is booming, with well over a dozen skyscrapers under construction. The most compelling neighborhood, though, is low-rise Casco Antiguo, with beautifully restored colonial buildings standing side by side with crumbling ones, some little more than roofless stone shells. The president of Panama lives here and government workers share park space with traditionally dressed Kuna women selling colorful molas, or colorful textiles. We also found one of the very best restaurants of the whole trip there, a modern place called Ego that has awesome tapas like ceviche and octopus carpaccio (better than you´d think) served up with sangria in a wonderful outdoor square.

The Miraflores locks of the Panama Canal also exceeded our expectations. The justifiably proud Panamanians have built an impressive visitors center with good vantage points. The sheer scale of the locks is best demonstrated by seeing huge cargo ships being raised and lowered dozens of feet by water alone. And the very well-done three-floor exhibition of the canal´s history, watershed, logistics and future was fascinating, as were the science of the undertaking and its impact on ship size and shipping economics.

Still more than a few reminders of the U.S. presence there, with abandoned bunkers on the way up to a superb vantage point on the city´s Ancon Hill, the bombed-out former recreation center for Noriega´s soldiers and massive U.S.-style development that has turned a string of three pretty islands into something approaching a hideous megamall for the rich.

After an inconvenient layover in Miami, we´ve officially begun the South American leg of our journey with a stop in Lima, Peru. The late-morning changing of the guard at the government palace was impressive if somewhat odd: marching soldiers and riot police and huge tanks keeping guard while the military band played the theme from "Star Wars."

And I´m unhappy to report that roasted guinea pig tastes somewhat like chicken, only fattier, chewier and stringier.

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Here´s one of the many poison dart frogs we saw hopping along a path in the jungle:

Here´s the tent camp where we stayed (our tent is on the left):

And one of the ridiculously picturesque sunsets over Corcovado National Park and the Pacific:

And now for Panama. During the bus ride up to Panama´s western highlands and the agricultural town of Cerro Punta, it was almost possible to imagine ourselves somewhere in the Midwest, with dairy farms and vegetable fields all around us and contented cows grazing by the roadside.

OK, so not really. The horizon-dominating Volcan Baru was rather non-Midwestern, for starters, and the bromeliads clustered in moss-covered trees were definitely something you don´t see in Minnesota. Cerro Punta is part of Panama´s breadbasket, which produces the vast majority of the country´s vegetables, rice and milk. But it´s also the gateway to two spectacular cloud forests protected within the La Amistad and Volcan Baru National Parks.

And that brings us to the strange bird. Not any bird, but one that happens to share its name with the lodge we stayed at on the edge of the forest: Los Quetzales.

Sorry Jeanne, but it had to be said. We did, in fact, see a resplendent quetzal. Three of them actually, including a close-up of a nesting male and female. This may not be noteworthy to everyone, but quetzals are almost surreal-looking birds, with turquoise feathers, an unusually long tail and a brilliant red breast. They´re incredibly beautiful, hard to spot and the subject of a long-running commentary in which Geoff and his friend Jeanne have used rather unpleasant words to describe their frustration at not seeing any on a previous trip to Costa Rica.

Actually, the sighting was only one of our many highlights in western Panama. By sheer luck, we were able to spend a night in one of the lodge´s secluded two-story cabins in the cloud forest of La Amistad National Park, surrounded by lush green and so many hummingbirds they were literally buzzing around us. The next morning, we hiked along the Quetzal Trail through Volcan Baru park to the town of Boquete. No luck with the birds this time, though we did see some spectacular scenery, trees and flowers, like this one:

Once in Boquete, we spent Easter weekend at La Montana y El Valle, a very pretty coffee estate overlooking the town and Volcan Baru. During our stay, we were spoiled rotten by Jane and Barry, the wonderfully attentive owners, with fresh flowers, roasted coffee and orange juice every morning - all of it grown on their own property. We not only had one of our very best dinners there, but also did some of our most productive birdwatching from the back porch of our bungalow, sipping Chardonnay and eating smoked salmon. Um, not exactly roughing it. But communing with nature all the same.

On Good Friday in Boquete, we also took part in a fascinating and moving procession in which several floats and portable altars were led through the streets by altar boys, drummers and a priest along a route that passed the 12 stations of the cross. Here´s one of the floats, which depicts Christ in a glass coffin guarded by angels:

We´re now in Bocas del Toro, an archipelago of islands on the Caribbean side of Panama. Apart from our first huge thunderstorm of the trip, we´ve lazed on a nearly pristine beach and had another bizarre nature sighting: a tree sloth with baby in tow moving slowly along a tree branch. What made it memorable, and sad, was the fact that it was pointed out by a group of small boys standing atop the blue-tiled tombstone of someone´s grandmother in the local cemetery, each boy trying to hit the sloth with their slingshots.

Fortunately, their aim was a bit off. Tomorrow, we go snorkeling in a national marine park - and are hoping that the wildlife there will be far less disturbed.

A Strange Bird remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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It´s been an exhilarating week, starting with our three-night stay at the Corcovado Lodge Tent Camp on Costa Rica´s Osa Peninsula. The lodge deserves its own blog post, so I´ll write about Panama in a second post (with pictures, hopefully).

After telling everyone we were going to rough it in the Osa Peninsula´s Corcovado National Park (where we´d have to cross a river at low tide to avoid the hungry hammerhead sharks and vicious crocodiles and where voracious peccaries could rip us to shreds if we didn´t climb snake-infested trees), we felt a wee bit sheepish when we arrived at the tent camp and were promptly treated to plantain ceviche and coconut ice cream.

OK, so we didn´t really rough it and we didn´t hike through the whole park - fully booked by the time we called in our reservations - but we still hiked a fair bit, saw plenty of birds and wildlife and had a great three-night stay on the park border between the jungle and the crashing waves of the Pacific. The tent camp, a half-hour walk down a pristine beach from the airstrip, consists of 16 fairly comfortable but basic blue-tarp tents on wooden platforms overlooking the ocean, and much bigger thatched-roof huts housing the dining, bathroom and bar facilities.

Even before our four-seater landed on a gravel runway by the beach, two scarlet macaws seemed to welcome us by flying in tandem formation below the plane. And once at the camp, a hike up into part of the jungle revealed racoon-like coatamundis, tons of spider monkeys and bright green poison-dart frogs.

None of which, however, can compare to the puma we saw sauntering across the trail in front of us while on a guided hike through part of the national park. With our guide´s help, we were able to spot the puma again, hiding from us in some undergrowth only 25 feet from the trail. It gave me the shivers to train the binoculars on the vegetation and see the cat staring straight back at me. We wisely kept our distance but were never threatened, and you could almost see the exasperated look on the cat´s face: "When will you people ever leave?"

Actually, the only potential danger we faced during our stay, apart from possibly melting from the humidity or over-indulging in rum with fresh pineapple juice, was when we inadvertently interrupted a troop of white-faced capuchin monkeys. As we approached them on the trail, they scrambled down to overhanging vines, bared their sharp-looking teeth and assumed an aggressive "None shall pass!" posture.

A standoff ensued. Or rather, they glared at us and we meekly backed away and sat down. When it became clear they weren´t about to let us by, we detoured down to the beach and passed them without incident.

The park, which now encompasses a former banana plantation and an abandoned gold mining community, features a few odd sights like an overgrown miners´ cemetery and a rusting shipwreck on the beach. Otherwise, the jungle has rebounded nicely, with an amazing variety of trees, plants, birds and wildlife. And every night, the sunset over the park´s sea of green seemed determined to outdo its previous effort.

Admittedly, we saw no sharks, crocodiles, or even any snakes. But it was a great adventure just the same.

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The second hike took us to a great waterfall and a nice pool beneath it, which made for a welcome break after a 5 kilometer slog. Along the way, we spotted an agouti (like a giant squirrel with no tail), a coatamundi, a brown iguana, blue Morpho butterflies and two small coral snakes.

And in another rare sighting, we met up last night with a friend I hadn't seen in 18 years. Walter Cruz, who was an exchange student in Dodge Center, Minnesota, my senior year in high school, drove up with his lovely wife from their home an hour south of Liberia. It was great to catch up with Walter and meet his wife, and best of all, they didn't laugh too much at our weak Spanish. A great local story we heard from Walter, by the way, is that the people of Costa Rica jokingly refer to some missionaries as, uh, testicles. Why? They're always together and one is always bigger than the other.

OK, on to the pictures. The first is a view of Leon's cathedral from its central park.

The second is of a resident of Masaya and his faithful dog waiting for a blessing during the Magdalena Church's celebration of San Lazaro, somehow affiliated with pets.

And the third, my favorite, is of an up close and personal encounter that Geoff had with some local wildlife from the Isla de Ometepe.

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Beforehand, however, said priest was beheaded under the colonial governor´s orders for defending the natives from some truly awful treatment, including branding them and unleashing hungry dogs on a group of warriors in a Colisseum-like plaza to dissuade the natives from rebelling. In quick succession after the priest´s untimely death, the city was hit by a hurricane, an earthquake and a volcanic eruption. The townsfolk decided the city was cursed and abandoned it before a second eruption sealed the deal.

Like the colorful legends, a lot of Nicaragua´s fascination lies in its striking juxtapositions. Wonderful birds flitting around a ruined city. Smoking volcanoes in the skyline of a vibrant city boasting a top-notch collection of modern art from Latin America (Centro de Arte Fundacion Ortiz-Guardia in Leon). And in Leon´s most popular hotel and restaurant, El Convento, a bizarre ceramic statue of the Pamela Anderson Lee of angels showing off her ample assets to a crowd of gawking children. Which was tastefully placed within eyeshot of a beautifully restored altar from the city cathedral.

We were even more surprised when we strolled to the very-well designed and hopping central park in Granada and stumbled upon a well-received drag show, complete with overwrought power ballads, high heels and tiaras. Not really what we were expecting to see in front of the cathedral.

Granada is a bit less rough around the edges than Leon and more popular with tourists. We thought its churches were less interesting, but a museum in a former convent (Convento de San Francisco) showed off some of the country´s prehistoric riches - a great set of stone statues carved in volcanic basalt about 1,000 years ago that are part human and part animal, such as bird, snake, jaguar or alligator.

We saw strange animals of another sort the next morning when, on a tip, we visited the nearby city of Masaya to witness the annual celebration of San Lazaro at a church called Magdalena. It´s not clear exactly how or why it all started, but the people of the city celebrate the patron saint of mascotas (or pets) by dressing up their dogs as pirates, gypsies, clowns and other characters and bringing them to church for a candle-lit blessing. And then to an outdoor stage for a costume contest.

The animal theme continued when we arrived in Isla de Ometepe, a wonderful island in Lago Nicaragua formed by two adjacent volcanoes and full of cool creatures like howler and white-faced capuchin monkeys and blue Morpho butterflies. Unbeknownst to us, however, the island was in its first full day of a tronque, or roadblock. Two sets of them, actually, exactly between where the ferry let us off in the town of Moyagalpa and where we needed to be. From what we heard, the locals very much want to add a third ferry to the island to boost tourism revenue and spread the wealth - a plan opposed by the current owner of the only two boats transporting people to Moyagalpa. To demonstrate their displeasure to his opposition, a bunch of islanders decided that no one was going to go anywhere. For three days.

Which allowed us plenty of time to observe the domestic pigs, horses, dogs, cows and yes, chickens that were all crossing the road at will. Luckily, we were able to get a taxi to the first set of roadblocks, walk through them and pay a pick-up truck driver to hustle us to the second set before the people there became overly testy. Our hotel had promised to have a van waiting for us after that one, but the driver chickened out after seeing the unhappy people manning the blockade. A helpful tip, by the way: smiling a lot and saying "Hola" repeatedly can do wonders when facing a potentially hostile crowd.

We were saved by a local bus, which just happened to be turning around after the last barricade and took us all the way to the Finca Magdalena, a huge old farmhouse on a cooperative coffee farm at the base of Volcan Maderas, near a small village called Balgue. We met some awesome fellow travelers while staying at the finca for three nights (a big shout out to Tom and Anna from Boston) and witnessed the biggest tarantulas we´ve ever seen. In the communal bathroom, actually.

Fortunately, we were staying in a cabana and only had two smaller tarantulas spending their evenings with us. Harmless, everyone kept saying. And then laughing. Curiously, you can see spider eyes very well at night if you´re wearing a headlamp; if your light shines at the right angle, the eyes reflect a bluish glow back at you and on a brief night hike we saw dozens of blue lights in the grass around us. Very cool. From a distance.

While on the island, we also swam in a beautiful spring-fed pool in the midst of a banana plantation and did a lot of walking along the roadside while waiting for sporadic buses, while watching white-faced capuchin
monkeys trying to steal eggs from some very noisy tropical bluejays. On the last full day of our stay, Volcan Maderas kicked our butts on a day hike that produced more sweat than we thought we were capable of. By four kilometers up the volcano, at which point the steep path of rocks and roots had turned to rocks, roots and mud, Geoff´s knee and my thigh had declared war on our bodies and we were forced to retreat. On the plus side, we saw some extraordinary butterflies while howler monkeys hooted all around us.

No lasting problems, and the roadblocks mercifully ended, allowing us to make our way to Liberia, Costa Rica last night - a little redder, sorer and, hopefully, wiser (more pictures coming soon).

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And in a strange testament to how small the world really is, our Roatan flat adjoined that of Richelle, Albi and Walker Huff, who once lived less than four blocks from us in Greenpoint, Brooklyn and have since moved to Minneapolis. Great folks and we really enjoyed eating, chatting and hanging out with them on our communal porch space.

In Roatan, I succeeded in not panicking on my first SCUBA dive (Geoff´s third) and we saw some interesting sea life though we´ve both admitted that we prefer snorkeling so far, especially since we swam with an amazing variety of tropical fish in a portion of the reef less than 25 yards from shore.

A view of a Roatan sunset:

After a few trying travel days that claimed a pocket knife (stolen in the airport) and a pair of jeans (ripped in a taxi), we made our way from Teguchigalpa with its thickets of razor wire and metal bar to the surprisingly arid and cactus-dotted north of Nicaragua.

Our introduction to the country was a bit bumpy - literally. After three hours of our "express" bus careening across an unpaved road to avoid the largest potholes, seemingly picking up anyone wandering along the roadside, nearly hitting a horse and almost claiming the foot of the vendor who had just sold us lard and pineapple-flavored cookies, we made our way past an impressive line of volcanoes and entered the city of Leon.

The colonial city and Sandinista stronghold is fascinating, with anti-U.S.A. murals, war memorials and bullet-scarred buildings, plenty of university students, beautiful but somewhat neglected old churches and Central America´s largest cathedral:

As in Copan, the city seems determined not to let anyone sleep in, with a jarring air-raid siren that sounds every morning at 7 a.m. Tradition, supposedly.

At a riveting but bizarre museum in the ruins of a notorious jail, our guide told us about the brutalities of Nicaragua´s Somoza dynasty, with some frank depictions of the types of torture practiced there by National Guardsmen under the dictator´s orders and newspaper photos of some of the many Leon residents who were killed or simply disappeared during the country´s civil war in the late ´70s.

Housed in the same building, however, are other rooms containing a hodge-podge of dioramas depicting Leon´s local legends, like the golden crab, haunted oxcart (complete with lit-up skulls, scary sounds and stuffed oxen) and the headless priest - actually a good guy who was a champion of the indigenous people but was beheaded by the Spanish and now wanders the streets, or at least in the stories told to scare misbehaving children. The same legends are also shown in mosaic form in the museum´s courtyard.

Here´s the haunted oxcart:

None of the legends, however, can compare with that of the local woman who was so ugly she couldn´t find a date, even after showing off her ample bosom - and yes, this is also lovingly depicted in the museum.

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After a brief return visit to Antigua, we moved on to Copan, Honduras to see the famous Maya ruins. First though, we saw some amazing birds at the nearby Macaw Mountain Bird Park and Nature Reserve. All of the birds are either unwanted pets or were found injured and now live in sizeable enclosures in a really pretty 10-acre setting. The park has 28 scarlet macaws, including 7 born in captivity through its breeding program, as well as an abundance of toucans, owls, hawks, parrots and other tropical beauties. Life for the inhabitants isn´t completely idyllic, as a boa constrictor once got into one cage and wolfed down a toucan, and opossums have been known to munch on the smaller birds from time to time, requiring the workers to set out traps. Still, the birds seem very well cared for and we got to hold several of the tamer ones in a cool interactive section of the park. And yesterday, when it was 100 degrees in the shade, we returned to have lunch and swim in the park´s great natural pool.

We also visited Hacienda San Lucas, a historic old farmhouse in the hills above town that´s now an inn and restaurant. We hiked to a small and strange Maya ruin on the property called Los Sapos, or The Toads, where some experts believe Maya women may have gone to give birth. Watching the sunset, drinking rum and lemonade, and eating a candelight dinner made in the hacienda´s original wood stove kitchen weren´t too shabby either.

And although we nearly melted in the sun, the ruins at Copan were really incredible, especially the detailed carvings and intricate heiroglyphic stairway. It´s amazing how archaeologists have been able to decipher the gyphs and understand a considerable amount about the ancient city, which seemed to have reached its peak in the 8th Century AD and may have supported up to 28,000 people within it and the surrounding valley. There´s a great museum right at the site, and a smaller but just as fascinating one in town.

Nearly as awesome was the Copan County Fair, or something suspiciously like a fair in New Jersey or Minnesota, complete with creaky rides (including a hand-turned Ferris wheel and a Tilt-a-Whirl that looked like it was a few loose bolts away from whirling through the fields), good greasy fried chicken and fireworks. A bit more irritating, though, has been the preferred way of drumming up visitors: a particularly loud burst of fireworks at 4 a.m. followed by a meandering van fitted with a loudspeaker.

Finally, we received a birds-eye view of the Copan Valley earlier today with a ridiculously fun but slightly terrifying canopy tour that involved 14 cables. Our young but professional guides seemed rather amused at our wide-eyed responses to their innocent suggestions, like telling us it might be a good idea to brake a bit early on the 1 km-long cable dangling over a particularly steep ravine, or encouraging us to dangle upsidedown during our slide down another cable and letting them brake for us (which we did and survived to our astonishment), or goading us into flying like Superman down the final cable while they held our legs from behind.

Yes, we did that too, and then laughed in relief like five-year-olds. As an added bonus, I now have a particularly good blackmail photo of Geoff hanging upsidedown. Coincidentally, the ancient symbol of Copan is also a bat.

Hippies, Toads and Bats remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Which isn´t to say that Bush is necessarily receiving a warm welcome by the people here. A guest at our hotel told us he attended a big demonstration in the capital where protestors were spraypainting slogans on nearly everything that wasn´t moving (including buses caught in traffic). The worker at another hotel today swatted the television with a newspaper when Bush appeared live. Mayan priests are planning to re-purify some ruins after the president´s visit. And the press has had a field day, especially after the recent detention of illegal Guatemalan workers in Massachusetts, during which no one at INS seemed to remember that the children might need to be looked after during their parents´detention. Oops.

A political cartoonist for the Prensa Libre captured it all with a panel showing unhappy demonstrators greeting Bush with various slogans like "Go away" while a young girl holds another sign saying, "I want my Mommy."

On our last day of Spanish class in Antigua (a fairly successful venture), two American fighter jets zoomed overhead as part of the Bush preparations, emptying the classrooms as teachers and students laughed nervously about what is an exceedingly rare sight - and sound - in the city. Our host mother, Dilia, told us later she thought it was a nearby volcano erupting.

Here's a view of another one, called Volcan de Agua, which we saw every morning on our way to school.

Besides the impromptu air show, we were treated to some wonderful home cooking and awesome views of the volcanoes and ruins. The most interesting tour, though, was when we visited the museum where our host mother's youngest daughter works: El Museo Vigua de Arte Precolumbino y Vidrio Moderno (but the Web site doesn't really do it justice).

Like the huge Casa Santo Domingo hotel around it, the museum incorporates the ruins of a colonial church and convent. Our sister for the week is not only the curator but also an artistic director and restorer of many of the old ceramic and stone pieces, some of which date back more than 2,000 years. Amazingly, many of them have been found by workers on the museum owner's fincas, or plantations. Even better, our sis had great stories about ghostly presences at the site, including the time she was restoring an unusual Mayan burial jar with skulls on its lid and it kept moving around on her. Another time, her boss was examining a jade hatchet and wondering about its function when a ghostly voice said, "para matar," or "to kill." And finally, she swears that a photo of her with another restored jar depicts a mysterious light, and in the foreground, the image of a friar bowed in prayer. Spooky.

On to Lago Atitlan, where we're watching live coverage of Bush's visit and waiting out the first downpour of the trip at a hippy enclave called San Pedro La Laguna. We arrived Saturday and stayed two nights at a ridiculously amazing hotel called La Casa del Mundo that's perched on the hillside above the deep crater lake. From our room, we had unbelievable views of two more volcanoes across the lake. Like this one:

And this one:

In a fitting end to our first night at the hotel, we soaked with other guests from around the world in a wood stove-heated hot tub overlooking the lake, told ghost stories and marvelled at the brilliant stars overhead.

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The town seems to be full of tourists in a similar boat, though, and both Geoff and I are definitely improving and able to converse with our respective teachers, Jose and Ninette, and with our wonderful host family.

Our mother for the week is Dilia, who is a great cook and loves to chat - a perfect fit for us. Her youngest daughter works in a glass museum and is a budding artist in her own right. We´re hoping to visit her at work later in the week, but for the time being there are plenty of things to gawk at just wandering around the city. Three large volcanoes surround Antigua and one called Fuego is still active - hopefully not too active. In the mornings when we walk to school, the view is stunning, especially past one of the many amazing ruins that dot the city (a picture of this coming soon!).

We´ve been taking some side trips too, on Monday to a fascinating museum called Casa Popenoe, a colonial mansion that had collapsed during the earthquake of 1773 and was rebuilt by an American avocado exporter who worked for the United Fruit Company in the 1920s. Perhaps the best part is its top-floor aviary which has dozens of built-in birdhouses for doves once charged with sending messages from town to town - the first Internet, according to our surprisingly understandable guide (who spoke very slowly and with perfect diction).

Today we visited another small town called San Antonio where the women basically use a belt to strap themselves to a loom and weave colorful textiles with intricate patterns on both sides. Very distinctive and very beautiful.

So far, the people we´ve spoken with have talked only indirectly about the country´s decades of turbulence in the not-so-distant past. But everyone seems to agree that corruption among politicians is still rampant, that the capital city is particularly dangerous and that so many foreigners have moved to Antigua that the houses are now priced well beyond the range of nearly all Guatemalans. One apparently sold recently for $9 million.

Out of the Mouths of Tourists remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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This was the first of four buses to Xela.

The really cool church in San Andres Xecul. Note the jaguars at the top.

San Simon presiding over some offerings - and taking a cigarette break.

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A supposedly direct shuttle from Antigua began heading in the exact opposite direction, back to the airport, but we realized the scam almost immediately and got out ($26 poorer). For the rest of the afternoon, we hopped from one school bus turned chicken bus to another. The first was called California and decked out with chrome fenders and brightly colored decals for days (we promise pictures soon, just need to figure that out).

We quickly realized that no school would ever send its students where these buses went. Fear is being in a bus racing another up a fog and dust covered mountain, and you are clearly in the wrong lane. But the final cost after 5 hours was much easier on our wallets. $3.25 each.

First night in Xela was rather trying as our bathroom had a flimsy screen window that looked right into the hotel kitchen and Geoff demonstrated the security issues when he picked the lock in 2 seconds flat. We survived.

Now in a much better hotel and have been to largest and highest market in Guatemala in a town called San Francisco El Alto, where vendors were selling everything from brightly colored cloth to World Wrestling Federation T shirts. Both seemed equally popular. At the very top of the hill was the live animal market, with pigs, chickens, cows, sheet and barely controlled chaos. Incredible.

San Andres Xecul, a nearby town, has a flaming yellow church with a wild facade, including pot bellied cherubs, vines and jaguars. But the most interesting sight was the home of San Simon (or Maximon), a kind of evil saint that seems to be one part Catholic tradition and two parts Maya folklore. You can visit him, actually a gussied up mannequin with sunglasses and a cowboy hat, and make wishes with colored candles if you want. Black candles if you want to wish ill on someone. He loves cigarettes and liquor and goes to bed promptly at 6 p.m. every night. The affable owner, Rafael, diverted us momentarily so he could light San Simons cigarette to complete the effect.

Last night, we inadvertently happened upon a rally by a socialist student movement. A bizarre parade with cloaked and hooded students, some wearing skull masks, kind of like a repurposed Semana Santa procession, complete with incense and fireworks. Impassioned speeches followed. Then everyone danced and sold keychains.

Today, we visited a glass cooperative, where they make an amazing variety of products from recycled glass (green comes from 7 UP bottles and brown from Gallo beer bottles). In a town called Zunil, we soaked in wonderful volcanic hot springs high in the hills, visited another version of San Simon and visited another cathedral. The cathedral has a beautiful white facade and inside, we saw portable altars with endearingly tacky icons of Mary and Jesus (complete with Cher hair) awaiting Semana Santa processions.

Quite the cultural introduction to Guatemala.

To Xela by Way of California remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Also memorable was driving by La Casa del Waffle.

Our mode of transportation was a "shuttle," which in reality was a rundown, exhaust-belching cab that seemed one long idle away from a permanent breakdown. Our driver was affable enough and had his windshield decorated with a skeleton, multiple rosaries and a Winnie the Pooh doll. Not sure what that all means.

But we finally made it to Antigua and have already sampled the country's beer of choice: Gallo. We're fascinated by all the church ruins - seems like earthquakes have claimed nearly everything taller than three storeys here. the weather is gorgeous and the purple-blossomed jacaranda trees are stunning.

It's really starting to sink in.

Bienvenidos a Guatemala remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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OK - the first is true, the second is definitely not true (with the exception of our tropical fish, which we're entrusting to some friends with a groovy television aquarium after a bunch of Craig's List wannabes flaked out on us) and the third is sorta half-true (we'll be in Guatemala for the first two weeks of our trip and we're bound to see a llama here and there).

Welcome to our big, fat, irresponsible adventure. Hopefully, we'll be less big, less fat and less irresponsible by the time we return. Leave messages, admonishments and helpful hints as you wish and we'll try to keep you all posted.

Adios,
Bryn and Geoff

The Adventure Begins remains copyright of the author brynster, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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