(new) A wonderful wonder of the world.

I think most people traveling around the world have a list of most see things or must do activities. Iguazu Falls was one of those things for me. They are a wonder of the world, one of world’s biggest waterfalls. And since it had been raining we had heard that the falls were at full force. So for the first time in ages, I was genuinely excited about our sightseeing – complete with butterflies in my stomach.

Since the hostel wasn’t finished we weren’t expecting much for breakfast but we were pleasantly surprised to find the full breakfast buffet out when we got up. There was juice, coffee, cereal, fruit and bread as well as the usual assortment of jam, butter and dulce de leche. (Okay so they managed to get that right). When we were full we headed out to the bus station. Although the walk was uphill in the humidity it was still infinitely easier than the walk down was with our packs. There was a bus waiting when we arrived and once we were on it pulled out. The $2 air-conditioned ride took us down the highway past many hotels and the deluxe resort hostel. Actually I have no idea if it was deluxe but with the huge resort-sized swimming pool outside complete with swim up bar it looked a whole lot more deluxe than our place. It was too bad we weren’t staying there even if it was a good ways out of town. The Falls were another 15 minutes down the highway and the bus let us off right at the gates.

My first impression was that of a theme park – the gates looked almost exactly like the ones at Canada’s Wonderland back in Toronto, complete with re-entry stamps and colourful map. The difference was instead of rides the map pointed out hiking trails and falls in the park. Unfortunately for us though, the boat to San Martin Island at the foot of the falls was not running due to high water levels. But it didn’t matter it looked like there was plenty to do without the boat ride. Although I imagined that the view of the Falls from the island would have been amazing. Le sigh. Our first stop was the Interpretation Centre, a sort of mini-museum with a brief history of the area and a guide to the flora and fauna. We took our time going through until a pack of loud school kids overran the centre – then we quickly wrapped up our visit.

We decided to head to the furthest falls first. And I’d be lying if I said it had nothing to do with the name. The Devil’s Throat sounded the most exciting of all the falls and obviously I wasn’t the only one as the rest of the tourists all seemed to be headed in that direction. Like the Horseshoe Falls of Niagara, the Devil’s Throat is a circular fall but I think you’ll agree that Devil’s Throat sounds much more exciting than Horseshoe Falls. Perhaps, Niagara should rename the Horseshoe Falls something more exciting like the Arch of Terror or Curve of Thunder or something better than the semicircle of tepid running water that the Horseshoe Falls implies. Of course, my impression of the Devil’s Throat could be totally wrong. But first we had to get there. We decided to skip the nature trail and take the tourist train there, a wise choice as it was a bit of a trek and just as full of wildlife as the trail. As we pulled into the halfway station a coati came right up to us in the train, sniffing around for a food hand out. Along the tracks, clouds of butterflies hovered and when we disembarked they landed all over the passengers and didn’t leave. I had three on my hat and two on my bag as we walked the trail to the Falls. The trail was actually a raised metal walkway that crossed over the river to take us right up to the Devil’s Throat. The trail had some odd signage – one in particular seemed to request that humans keep right and let the snakes pass on the left. But we saw no snake on the walkway just more butterflies and some pretty navy and white birds in the trees overhead.

Before we could see the falls we hear them; the roar of the water getting exponentially louder as we got closer. Through the thick trees we caught glimpses of the brown water rushing towards the falls and then a cloud of spray rising just ahead. And then we saw the edge of the falls. The walkway led us directly to the edge so we could look down over the tumbling water. Thanks to the high water levels, it was intense and at this vantage point seemed to be five times the size of the Horseshoe Falls. The walkway offered multiple vantage points that were all spectacular and we spent a good half hour just taking in the view and snapping a bazillion shots of them (photo above is just one of those bazillion). If that had been it, I think we would have left completely satisfied but that was just one of three trails. So we tore ourselves away and took the train back to the other trailheads.

Although it was now getting close to lunch time we decided to do the Upper Trail before grabbing a bite to eat. We had heard of a delicious all-you-can-eat buffet offered at the onsite Sheraton Hotel and wanted to be good and hungry before eating all we could. As I’m sure you can guess from the name, the Upper Trail was a walkway across the top of the other series of falls, a 2km stretch of falls both small and large downstream from the Devil’s Throat. The falls here had less inspired names like the Two Sisters, Bernabe Mendez and Bossetti Falls. Although they weren’t as awesome as the Devil’s Throat the thick jungle all around them and the view of San Martin Island down below made them just as photo-worthy and we snapped another bajillion. As we finished the trail we were most definitely starving and followed the path straight to the Sheraton. When we got to the entrance, Adrian was so excited that he insisted on having a happy photo taken outside. Unfortunately, he got a little ahead of himself. When we entered the air conditioned, pristine and posh Sheraton, I sensed that something was up. There were no signs and no smells advertising of endless steam tables of buffet goodness. We poked our heads into the restaurant and saw nothing but empty counter space where the buffet had once been. Instead it was menu service only and an expensive menu service. Le sigh. I think I’ll blame Lonely Planet for this one. By telling all us riff-raff backpackers about the buffet, we’d obviously lowered the tone of the place and the hotel had done away with it. So there was going to be no buffet but what were we going to do for lunch – it wasn’t like the national park was overflowing with dining options. After stopping for a thumbs-down photo. we retraced our steps and took a wrong turn ending up at a parrilla that wasn’t on the map, an all you could eat parrilla. Jackpot. It was pricey but Adrian and I made sure we ate as much as we could without throwing up, visiting the salad bar (veggies!!!) and grill (steak, chicken, and chorizo) numerous times. By the time we were done it was just after 3pm.

With our very full stomachs, we waddled down to the beginning of the Lower Trail and hoped that we’d be able to make it down all the stairs. While the Devil’s Throat is the most exciting falls, the lower trail was the most exciting trail. It paralleled the upper trail but rather than taking us over the falls it ended almost directly under one of the falls. And judging by all those exiting the trail, we may get wet (or rather, soaked) on this ride. After sweating like pigs for the whole day, we were actually looking forward to the shower. At the end of the Trail we faced the cascade of water and even from 10 metres away the spray was enough to wet us. Adrian immediately stripped off his shirt and went walking towards the wall of water. He got within 5 metres and stopped already sopping wet from the spray and splash back. He raised his arms in homage to the scene in The Mission (where the natives throw the priest off the falls) demanding a photo or twelve before coming back to give me a shot. I wrapped up my camera in a plastic bag and left it and my purse with him as I edged towards the falls. Soon I was covered in a film of water and I was only halfway to where Adrian had gone. That was enough to wash off the sweat and dirty sunscreen. And that was enough of the falls.

We walked back to the entrance and caught the bus back into town. We picked up some empanadas for later knowing that there was no need to have dinner on top of the buffet. We’d had our fill of the falls and food. And it was amazing.

Sloth – the cutest of the seven deadly sins.

Cahuita was cheap (for Costa Rica) so we were in no hurry to do or see everything. So we took a day off. Well it was a day off from enjoying the beach and doing fun things like laundry and getting Adrian a haircut. The barber was a teenager named Blin Blin, not to be confused with Bling Bing, he told us. At $8 it wasn’t much of deal but it was needed. Blin Blin tried to improve his profit margin by trying to sell us some dope. He didn’t make any money off us but that appeared to be his main source of income. More people stopped by for dope than they did for a haircut. Back at the hostel, I worked on the blog and looked into some stuff about Panama while Adrian spent the day hanging in the café next door watching the soccer. It was a beautiful day so there was some guilt associated with doing nothing but it was worth it. And the perfect day ended with good food at an Argentinian restaurant (run by a couple from Quebec) and a phone call home with even better news.

Of course, the next morning the sun was replaced by grey clouds and pouring rain. Oops perhaps we should have done something yesterday. But a quick look at the weather satellite showed the clouds clearing in the next couple of hours. So we had a lazy breakfast and let the guy at the desk know that we were staying a few more days. In keeping with our sloth theme we decided to head to the sloth sanctuary. Plus my sister is obsessed with sloths and I figured some pictures of them would make her happy. There were tours advertised around town at $40 per person . But we decided to go on our own and save ourselves some cash – you know me, always looking for a better price.

The rain stopped at noon and we headed to the bus station to catch a bus back out on the highway. We had seen the sanctuary on our way into Cahuita from Limon however not knowing the word for sloth made it nearly impossible to buy our tickets. Refugio? Sanctuario? Animales? I went through my list of words. Finally the ticket guy got the gist of what I was asking, said something I didn’t quite catch and sold us two tickets for less than a dollar – a much better price. Soon the bus arrived and I repeated my list of words to the ayudante trying to indicate where we wanted to get off. He immediately knew what I meant and told the driver where we were going.

The bus ride would have taken about 20 minutes but the police stopped the bus at a checkpoint. An officer boarded the bus and began checking the id, and baggage of everyone on board. It was the most thorough checkpoint we’d been through until the guy apparently got bored and stopped after checking Adrian’s passport. Once we got going again, it wasn’t too long until the bus driver called out Aviaros del Caribe a few times. It wasn’t until he motioned to us that I realized that’s what the sanctuary was called.

Now it was time to arrange a tour. The woman at the desk seemed a bit confused where we had come from. I guess most people come on a tour or by car and not by the public bus. She offered us a guided tour for $25 each. Ouch, but it did include a canoe trip through the canals, video as well as a visit with the sloths. The canoe tour was a mini version of our time in Tortuguero so Adrian and I had to feign interest as the boatman pointed out birds, lizards, crabs and monkeys. He stopped for a moment and asked if could have a minute. Adrian and I thought he was taking a bathroom break but he came back with a big bunch of tropical flowers for me. How sweet.

Back to shore we were met by a young American guy who took us on the sloth part of our guided tour. I wasn’t sure if he was annoyed or trying to be funny and sarcastic - probably a combination of both. But all that was forgotten when he first took us to see the baby sloths. There were 10+ and it was feeding time. A couple of volunteers were feeding the little ones by hand – formula for the youngest and fruits, veg and dog food for the slightly older ones. Some could barely lift there heads up off the table as they shoveled the food into their mouths. It was sickenly adorable.

The sanctuary had both two and three fingered sloths which are completely different animals but they’re both super cute. Most of the sloths were orphaned when their mothers were run over by a car trying to cross the highway. Or abandoned when the mother gave birth to more than one at a time. At the sanctuary, they did their best to try to teach the sloths how to live in the wild but it was almost impossible to reintroduce them into the wild. So their future was a spoiled sloth filled one (sorry more puns) here at the Aviaros del Caribe.

Then we were introduced to Buttercup (photo above). At 17 years old she was the oldest sloth in the facility and it’s with her that the sanctuary started. When she was just a baby, local kids brought her to the family who were known for taking in and rehabilitating other local animals. As the family researched how to take care of sloths, they became taken up with their plight. And of course they began adopting more and more. But Buttercup was their baby and equally attached to the owners. Our guide was the grandson of the owners and had grown up with Buttercup who kept reaching out to him to be picked up. More super cuteness.

Next we watched the video on the sloth and the centre. It was super cheesy involving a guy with a British accent singing a song about the sloth ballet. No it was worse than I’ve made it sound. But it also had lots of information on sloths and the mission of the sanctuary which was a good primer for our visit to the adult enclosure. There were another 6 adult sloths here which meant 6 times more cuteness. Adrian distracted our guide by talking about the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy. He was convinced that it was sloths not dolphins that were the real intellects of the planet. And considering they’d convinced this family to house and feed them for the last two decades, maybe he was right.

We said goodbye to the staff and the sloths and got to the highway just in time to catch the bus back. Good thing since it only comes every hour. And back in Cahuita, we applied all our newfound sloth techniques to do nothing for the rest of the day before heading to a nearby restaurant for their 2-4-1 cocktails. Margaritas were followed by piña coladas, by monkey madness by another unnecessary round of pinã coladas. Tomorrow, we promised, we’d get out and explore a bit more.

Iguana see some ruins.

The weird thing about our time in Belize so far was that we’d talked with very few Belizeans with the exception of Belize City and that’s because the expats are too scared to go there. Expats were everywhere, understandable I guess considering that only 25 years ago Belize was still a British colony so not only is there plenty of sun and sand it’s relatively stable politically AND they speak English. In San Ignacio, I thought it might be a bit different. It’s located far from the beach, up in the jungle near the Guatemalan border. But during our first day we’d only encountered expats: our hotel was owned by a Brit, the travel agency/tour company next door was owned by another Brit; even the server in Café del Sol was a Brit who came here with his Belizean wife 20 years ago but she went back to the UK and he stayed. What this meant for Adrian was a chance to get a proper English breakfast. He was momentarily disappointed by the lack of black pudding until he spied the steaming pile of baked beans. “Luvely”, he proclaimed.

Being surrounded by expats also meant that we were able to get more great tips on what to do and see in San Ignacio. And there were many things as long as you wanted to see either ruins or caves. We decided to start off with what we knew and also what was closest and headed to the ruins of Cahal Pech.

We didn’t want or expect much. After all we were now a little rusty at sightseeing. Cahal Pech was perfect. There was a little museum to start with which explained the history of the Mayans and included some of the stuff that had been excavated from the site. And the ruins were nice too. We had the whole place to ourselves so Indiana Barret was free to run around, climb over walls and explore while demanding that I take a picture of him every two minutes. Not only were there no other visitors, there was no gauntlet of souvenir sellers to navigate which made it a very relaxing and fun experience.

On our walk back to town we stopped in at the most exclusive hotel in town. Not to see how the other half lives, nor to check out the royal suite where Queen Liz stayed a few years back. No we were there to see some iguanas.

The San Ignacio Resort Hotel was also home to an iguana preservation project. And after we notified the concierge about our intentions, we were given a private tour of it, for a donation. Our guide David led us past the people lounging by the swimming pool and the tennis courts, through the perfectly landscaped forest which was actually a medicinal garden. David pulled two round fruit off one tree.

“Do you know what there are?” David asked.
“No.” Adrian and I replied.
“Well what do they look like?” he continued.
“Um they bare a resemblance to er um a certain…” I stumbled for the polite words.
“Balls,” blurted out Adrian.
David smiled and nodded in agreement. “We call them cahones de mono. You can’t eat them but the sap makes a glue which is good for bot fly bites.”
“Bot fly bites?” Adrian had to ask.
“Yes, the flies that lay their eggs in your skin. To get the maggots out you put this sap over the bite and it kills them so you can get them out.”
“Baby?!?” hypochondriac Adrian paniced.
“Let’s see some iguanas” I jumped in hoping to distract him another ailment he would soon be convinced he had.

David took us to the iguana enclosure and explained the program. Essentially iguanas are threatened thanks to their use as jungle chicken by locals. The program educates kids about the iguanas’ importance to the environment and most importantly why they shouldn’t eat them. It is also trying to increase the iguana population by gathering eggs in the wild then hatching and raising the iguanas until they are big enough to have a chance to survive. David then threw open the doors and brought us inside.

All around us were dozens of foot long iguanas. David introduced us to two long-term residents Gomez and Pedro. Both were too tame to release back into the wild although they weren’t tame with each other. When the two were brought close to each other, they put up their spikes and made weird noise. But once apart they were tame enough that we could pet them.

In the second enclosure, the young iguanas were kept and there were hundreds of tiny bright green ones everywhere. David placed one on our hands and them kept piling them on us until we had iguanas on our heads, shoulders, and arms. I tried to pat one of the little ones but he whipped his tail at me. The iguana may have been small but he was feisty.

“Oh that’s their defense mechanism” David informed me.

Thanks for the warning David. That stung. But David redeemed himself by making sure we didn’t step in any of the numerous piles of iguana shit that looked remarkably like dog turds for easy identification. It was a great experience made better by David’s obvious passion and care for the iguanas.

It was only mid-afternoon so we returned to the internet café for a bit before we went to one of the tour offices to see what we could do the next day. We ruled out more ruins (we still had to save something for Tikal) which left caving. Did we want cave tubing? Cave swimming? Cave walking? Or cave horseback riding? In the end we opted for the one that offered cave skeletons – Actun Tunichil Muknal, or ATM for short – because caves are spooky and cool and so are skeletons. Together they’d be even spookier and cooler. Of course the spooky/cool factor was slightly diminished when after handing over $150US we were handed a one-page packing list - backpack, 1 litre of water minimum, a change of clothes, sturdy shoes, swimsuit with shorts – and a brief itinerary. 1 hour hike, 25 metre swim, and 2 hour cave climb. Scary. And also exciting. Today had been fun but tomorrow we were in for an adventure.