Of Birds, Beetles and Tortoises

November 3rd to 12th

Heading out of Armenia, we take a short detour up to Salento village. Deep in Colombia's coffee region Salento is famed for it's laid back lifestyle, it's artisans and the beauty of the Corcora Valley that it sits atop.

The scenery on route is pretty good too....

And it's not just coffee as we head past endless abundant fruit orchards and plantations....

Salento is a tourist town and all those cameras and wallets need protecting. It's not just fruit lurking in amongst the trees. We spy the glint of watchful eyes; the bright white contrasting starkly against the black background of camouflage cream hidden amongst dense shrubbery. Occasionally they blink - and completely disappear!

Others are more overt, keeping a 'high-vis' presence by marching machine guns along the narrow lane that drops down to the Quindio River....

A steep climb out of that river valley takes us into Salento and I begin to check out the hostels and residentias for a bed. Just as I am striking a deal, I notice Sue in conversation outside with two men and it seems we now have alternative arrangements.

Edgar is a local who has divided his time between native Colombia and the States where he has worked for 40 years. As he is building a home in town, he states, we would be fools to pay money when we could stay at his place for free. After upsetting the hostel owner with news of this turn of events we gratefully follow Edgar to our new digs.

Shortly after we're taking the tour of the town and being introduced to most of it's residents.

Edgar with Sue at the incredible viewpoint overlooking the impressive Corcora Valley....

It's a lovely little town constructed from brightly painted wood panelled dwellings....

Set around a large plaza bustling with the usual food vendors and jeep style taxis that ferry a never ending stream of visitors in and out of the valley....

Edgar is a problem solver. Once he has taken care of the accommodation issue, we explain our hunger and he whips out his cellphone and gets on the case. Within minutes, someone somewhere is heading to market to acquire trout, fresh from the local rivers. Elsewhere, a cook is heading to a friends house to prepare sauces and bread.

Bemused, confused, we arrive a hour later and the table is laid with one of the finest feeds we've had in quite a while. The trout is amazing - done in a traditional mushroom sauce and the house is full of people and life. We never get to fully understand the connections between the many visitors and Edgar, but he's obviously a popular guy. It's a relaxed atmosphere as people come and go and it's an entertaining and unexpected day as we finally make our excuses and retire to our new, borrowed home.

The builders wake us as they arrive early the next morning and make busy with the loud music and the bashing and hammering. They are extending Edgar's house as he makes it ready to bring his family from the US to enjoy his retirement here in Colombia.

In town there is a fiesta to celebrate 40 years since the inauguration of the school. Children parade in traditional costumes or fancy dress representing the various regions of the country....

Next day, we ride down steep side to the valley floor and head upriver. The road turns to dirt as we climb, then to a rutted track and finally a bridleway where we abandon the wheels and head on on foot. Various guides explain the way is too difficult, but they just want to hire out horses to carry us like lazy tourists up into the hills.

We hike a trail past forests of Palms that thrive here in a unique habitat. The 'Wax Palm' - tallest of all palms is Colombia's national tree. Unique to the Corcora Valley, these trees take a hundred years to grow to their full 50 metre height and cannot be found anywhere else on Earth. From a distance these tall towers make for an odd looking skyline. Their slender trunks, denuded of foliage save for that modest, almost apologetic explosion of green at the ends, gives them an odd look of being only partially created. Up close they are strangely magnificent, towering rigid and strong!

But I still can't help thinking that from a distance, the land looks like a toy medieval battleground, peppered with the opening salvo from an army of archers....

It's a unique habitat for insects and birds as well as the trees. This enormous stag beetle is the size of my hand and it scared the bejeseus out of me as it wobbled it's uncertain path through the air towards me, wings droning like the stricken engine of a propeller plane.

Yes! These things can fly....

The trail is obviously a well used one, being a three foot deep trench of mud in places. There used to be a series of bridges criss-crossing the river along the route, but the humidity and copious rainfall soon dealt with them....

Now a series of slippery bamboo poles provide a makeshift solution....

Deeper into the undergrowth....

The reason for the trek is a Hummingbird sanctuary set up by a couple living fairly remotely at 1000m above the valley floor at the end of of this two hour trek. They are undoubtedly pleased to see us, especially when they discover Sue brings cigarettes - they had both been dealing with the craving and weren't looking forward to the five hour round trip to the corner shop.

All that time I spent trying to get a decent humming bird shot! The problem was that they were here all along - there are literally hundreds of them. As we arrive a fffrrraaabbbb sound signals one of them taking an interest in my bald head as it hovers just six inches away. One actually brushes past my arm as I get my camera.

Some are more cautious and won't come too close, but this little guy is fearless even allows Sue to briefly tickle him under the chin....

This one is less happy - blowing a raspberry at the exorbitant fees for the bathroom....

There are several different species and it's bewitching watching them hanging in space before twisting and teleporting to a new location and hovering eerily once more....

We kill a couple of hours watching the show. Hummingbirds are quite territorial and several aerial dogfights break out as they try to protect their air space and food supply ducking and diving at impossible speed.

Finally, with the skies looking ominously heavy and with only a few hours of daylight left we leave all Sue's remaining cigarettes to our incredibly grateful hosts and head back down to the valley floor where the bikes are chained to a tree. A mad four hour dash, chasing the rapidly fading light sees us back in town.

Exhausted we arrive back just as Edgar turns up to invite us out for a horse ride.

A horse ride??

I do check to make sure, but it's definitely dark now!

A horse ride??

Are you crazy??

Apparently so! It's a normal Friday night out here in Salento apparently. Just you, a few buddies a huge hip flask of whiskey and a pitch black trek on horseback along the valley's trails. Sadly we have to decline. Whiskey, total darkness, rocky trails and my first time on a horse in 30 years just doesn't sound like the kind of tale that can have a happy ending.

We head into the square to watch maybe 30 guys charging and chasing and performing tricks before they head out though. Crazy, crazy people!

Next day dawns wet windy and ugly as we pack up and say thanks to Edgar for the loan of his house and an introduction to family and friends. I keep saying it - Colombia is home to just the most amazing people!

The weather though is less friendly; it really is freezing cold and miserable, and we don't get too far. Just a couple of kilometers out of town is a gringo hostel with wi-fi, hot showers and comfy leather sofas and a large library of English books. The shiny lights from the windows is just too tempting and like moths drawn to the flame we go in - posting a new record low for a day's ride.

I'm (almost) ashamed....

A couple of days escape us as the rain first settles in and then just hammers the ground. Happy of the excuse, Sue and I revel in the book collection and It surprises us both just how much we've missed a good read. We don't carry books, relying solely on audio books which just aren't the same.

The rain moves into it's third day, then a fourth and we're actually feeling guilty enough to head out, when suddenly all that guilt just gets washed away.

A familiar thud-thud sound approaches - definitely a single cylinder motorcycle engine, and a big one at that. Wait a minute, that looks familiar - nobody carries that much kit - but it can't be.

In walks Victor a Canadian guy we met on the 'Stahlratte' crossing from Panama and suddenly we don't feel all that slow and guilty after all. We've been here for days, and yet we still arrived under pedal power faster than this guy with an engine. It's great to see him again and yet another excuse to stay another day.

Victor a diamond fellow and the world's slowest traveller with the most equipment on his 650cc tortoise....

Seen in Salento considering an upgrade to something faster....

Fantastic seeing you again buddy and good to catch up. Maybe see you again in Ecuador.... if you can keep up....

Cahuita

July 27th to 30th

At last we get moving again after repairs to my bike and four days off. An early morning start allows us to sneak past Turrialba Volcano as he snorts and bellows in his sleep....

Hitting the main road at 'Guapiles' it's easy riding through flat banana and pineapple groves. Small holders cultivate patches of land along this vast plain, rich in nutrients that drop as ash from the 3000+ metre volcanoes dotted all along the central highlands. Nature has provided every advantage, but nothing is left to the voracious appetite of the insect hordes.

Small holdings slowly give way to large scale industrial agriculture and this whole area is a vast business supplying fruit bowls the world over. Strange then that it all began by accident!

Originally the cash crop of interest was coffee; grown higher up in the mountains. In order to reach export markets, a railway was needed through this area – then a dense jungle and insect infested swampland. The rails would connect suppliers with the Caribbean port at Limon and thousands of locals were drafted in to undertake this vast piece of engineering. The project was a disaster with thousands dying of tropical diseases and it's owner facing bankruptcy. US convicts replaced local workers, then the Chinese came and finally freed slaves from Jamaica and the route was eventually completed in 1890. In order to feed this army of navvies, bananas were planted along the lines as they were built. Some were exported to New Orleans in the states and the railway operatives spotted a lucrative opportunity once their popularity was recognised.

Nowadays twisted ruins of the railway run parallel to the road and bananas go by lorry, but this area was transformed and Costa Rica had a new cash crop. Rusting bridges over wide rivers serve as a reminder of man's determination....

We ride though 'Liverpool', no doubt named in honour of it's illustrious namesake – the British port city and see hundreds of container crates being stored and loaded ready for transportation....

It's good to be back on the bikes and we post 125kms (80 miles) for the day before riding into Limon. It's a typical dodgy port town full of drunks and prostitution so we hole up in a reasonable looking hotel. It doesn't stop us being disturbed in the night by the comings and goings of the hourly clientele though.

We ride out on a beautiful misty morning along an altogether different looking Caribbean Coast. This is not the one you see in all the holiday brochures....

Once we leave the industry of the port behind, we ride along a tunnel sandwiched between dense green rain forest. Heavy traffic evaporates and the only sounds we hear now are the bird calls, the insects and the roar of howler monkeys from the tree canopy. We see parakeets, hawks and spider monkeys at play swinging from tree to tree. At Cahuita, normal service is resumed and the Caribbean idyll is back to normal....

A narrow strip of land along the white sandy beaches has been turned into a nature reserve due to the unique habitats and diversity of wildlife. It's a beautiful stroll along the 8km trail flanked on one side by the crashing waves on the other by a cacophony of animal cries. Habitats change every few hundred metres and there are hundreds of different species.

Tiny spiders, venomous and deadly or just garish colours screaming out warning – who is going to test that one out?

This one is DEFINITELY deadly! Don't be fooled by the small size, it's actually the bigger the better with this 'Eyelash Palm Pitviper' as larger ones are more likely to bite in warning, rather than inject you with a lethal dose of poison. This guy is really hard to spot despite the less than shy colouration as it's perhaps only a foot long and no thicker than your finger. My heart was pounding as I took this photo as this snake is hard enough to take out you, me and all your mates....

A bit more cuddly was this young howler monkey stuffing it's face with leaves...

If Disneyland was a wildlife reserve, it would be a bit like this. Everywhere you turn is another rarity and it almost feels like you are in a zoo, the animal spottings are so frequent. A three toed sloth sits imperiously and unmoving in it's high tree....

Spider's webs are everywhere like silver curtains draped between the trees....

The land close to the water scuttles with hundreds of startled crabs that seem to appear from nowhere and disappear just as fast into fist sized holes in the path. Their shells are bright orange or blue or a vivid purple and their mandibles are bright red.

There are golden headed geckos....

In amongst the trees there are huge numbers of frog species and you can hear them calling to one another in their alien language of croaks and throaty burps. Unfortunately many are tiny and impossible to see in the dense forest so we visit the 'Ranaria' - 'Frogery' in English I suppose. Here a small natural environment has been created and the owners only have a license to catch and release 'local' frogs from a similar habitat. Hundreds of frogs have been added to Ranaria over the years and these have bred and multiplied. Even so their natural instinct is to hide and despite their bright colouration, they are still incredibly difficult to find.

This poison dart frog is maybe the size of an adult's thumb....

A major icon of Costa Rican wildlife is the nocturnal 'Red Eyed Tree Frog' which is the only frog that has eye lids and can actually close it's eyes to sleep which it does continuously during daylight. Fortunately this one was awake when I was there and really lived up to his name....

Cahuita is a great way to remember Costa Rica as this is our last night in the country. Tomorrow we head out to the Panamanian border and hit double figures. Panama will be country number 10 for the trip....

Tortuguero

July 22nd to 26th

After Flores it's flat riding to Guapiles, then on to Cariari.

We want to visit Tortuguero, a national park protecting 22kms of beach where 95% of the world's population of green turtle return to nest. Getting there is a bit of a step into the unknown as the road into this virgin area of rainforest is not marked on our map. We need get to La Pavona to catch a small boat that plies the old logging canals between there and the isolated village of Tortuguero. Eventually we do get some consensus from the locals and set off along 10kms of paved then 20kms of dirt through a maze of banana plantations....

Closer to the sea, the style of houses changes and the lands starts to look more like it's Caribbean brother Belize than Costa Rica. There are brightly painted, rickety wooden huts, often raised above the bitey things of the jungle floor on slender stilts...

The butterflies are stunning....

This one appears to have a futuristic looking helmet shaped head and a bright red tongue....

When we arrive at the boat launch there is bad news - the captain will not take our bikes as his boat is too small. He recommends we lock them to a tree in the bus station car park along with most of our kit and that we carry just a bag each aboard. Hmmm - I can maybe see a problem with just leaving all our kit unattended in the middle of nowhere for 2 or 3 days. We start to consider turning back and the disappointment of a fruitless ride to the Caribbean side of Costa Rica. This was the main reason for taking this route and we're about to waste a few hundred kilometers of riding.

Sad pouty lips and long faces finally have the desired effect though and a boat captain relents and finally lets us on board for a small tip that goes in his back pocket.

It's a slow boat to Tortuguero as the captain picks his way through the debris swept along the canals and rivers. Submerged logs threaten to hole the boat whilst slumbering crocs lie in wait for easy pickings should he err and spill his cargo....

Finally after an hour and a bit we arrive at the dock and are immediately accosted by the 'tour guides'. Life away from the gringo trail means we often forget this side of travel that is a daily nuisance to bus bound backpackers. We avoid the worst of it and set out to find a cheap hostel.

Green turtles nest at night and the area is rigorously controlled - you have to have a guide. We book with 'JJ' a guide staying at our hostel who convinces us of his qualifications and local knowledge. We are to meet at 8pm.

At 6pm we realise his knowledge relates to the local bars in town when he turns up staggering drunk and proceeds to noisily break into his own room with a very large blade. Perhaps the trip is off!

Shortly afterwards a man arrives purporting to be JJ's cousin who will take us with his group at 9:40pm. Dress in dark clothes, cover yourself in insect repellent and absolutely no cameras he warns us. I have seen pictures from other turtle nest sites in Costa Rica so it looks like they are becoming more strict in an effort to not disturb the mother as she lays her eggs. That's to be applauded, but I hate not having a camera to record such a memorable event. So this is the only picture I have of a turtle....

We meet our group and for some reason we are the only ones dressed like ninjas. I guess no one else heard the news about the black clothes and now we feel like we are at the wrong fancy dress party.

We take a half hour ride along the coast by boat taxi with another couple where we're surprised to see the twinkling lights of several expensive looking 'resort' hotels with their fancy restaurants lining up white linen tablecloths to the fine views at the water's edge. Eventually we find ourself in the middle of nowhere with a guide who only grunts – 'Wait here' and disappears for 15 minutes. We're just beginning to think we've been abandoned – the rest of our group are nowhere to be seen having taken a different boat when he returns and gets us to follow towards the beach. It's another surprise when we emerge from dense foliage and step out onto an airport runway seen dimly in the moonlight. That explains how the better class of guests get to the expensive hotels

It's not every day you get to witness a miracle! By the light of a full moon, seeing a 500kg green turtle haul itself from the ocean, crawl laboriously up the beach to nest; before dragging it's weary body back to the water comes pretty close. Every third year or so the females return to the same beach where they were hatched. There they dig a pit into which they lay up to 200 ping pong ball size eggs before covering them over with four immensely strong flippers. Usually they will mate three times in a season and lay first 200 then 100 and finally 50 eggs. Once she begins to lay her eggs we are allowed to approach and watch this amazing sight – before that we stay hidden as turtles are easily spooked and will turn back to the safety of the sea if they see movement. After that, she is incredibly tolerant of us watching, but her pitiful gasps for air on her return leave you feeling helpless and you have to restrain yourself from 'helping' by giving her a push. Once she touches the water, this lumbering beast undergoes a dramatic change as she casts off her heavy clumsiness and powers off into her element.

For the eggs she leaves behind, the odds are not good. In a month they will all hatch on the same night and the lottery can begin. Running the gauntlet of dogs, birds, crabs and hungry fish, 80% will not make it as far as the sea. Abandoned by their parents, more will be eaten before the exhausted newborns can reach their feeding grounds. Less than 1% will make it to 25 years old when they will return to nest and the cycle can begin again.

It's all sobering stuff as we return at 1am. The boat back to La Pavona leaves at 6am so we opt for a lie in and a rest day on this beautiful deserted Caribbean beach....

Exploring the 'town' does not take too long. Main street disappears off into the rainforest after 200m or so and houses on the edge look like they are slowly being reclaimed by vegetation...

An early start next morning sees us catch that return boat which acts like a delivery service to locals who magically emerge from the trees as the boat pulls up at makeshift docks – more just gaps in the mangroves...

Can any one spot a potential problem with that bike seat hanging over the edge?

There's a slight snag as we pull up alongside another boat back in La Pavona and my seat post is bent at a 90° angle as it collides with a steel strut on the other boat - we jerk to an abrupt halt. Unwrapping my bike from around both boats, there is a possibility I won't be riding today. Slightly shamed, the captain attempts to make amends for his poor steering by fixing the problem with a rather indelicate 3 foot length of steel pipe.

He promptly snaps my seat clean off!

All doubts are now gone and I definitely won't be riding today! You have to hand it to the locals though as they all rally round and try to come up with a solution. First they flock round a bus driver - but he refuses to take us explaining there is no room. Costa Rica seems to differ from the rest of Central America in that there are rules and safety concerns. The bus driver does get down from his seat though, leaving a full load of passengers to wait while he moves off to chat to the 'Gasoline Guy'. Eric makes the twice weekly run from Cariari to deliver ten 225 litre barrels of petrol to the Tortuguero village that supplies them with all their energy. He agrees to give us a ride and straps a couple of empties on top of his load to make room for my mangled bike and our kit. Many thanks Eric....

Unfortunately this is a Sunday and the chances of anywhere being open to help fix my dead bike are slim, but incredibly there is a bike shop in Cariari. The second problem is that my seat post is oversize and you can't get a replacement in Costa Rica, so we hit on the solution of welding a smaller post inside a length of the tube I have left from my old seat post. Of course the welder is closed, but luckily the bike shop also have cheap cabins to rent and we are forced to stay overnight to await the welder.

It's been a frustrating start to the trip with stops and starts due to illness and now bike sabotage. Ever the optimist I arrive at the shop when they open at 7am, but being Central America, nothing really happens for a couple of hours so we resign ourselves to another wasted day in Cariari. Finally, my bike does reappear though with a Heath Robinson repair job and we can get cracking again....

Diverse Costa Rica

July 17^th to 20^th

Leaving La Fortuna, the road meanders up and over and around some vivid green rolling hills. It's easy riding; cool under cloudy skies, and Costa Rica in the rainy season is becoming a lovely contrast to the more featureless hot, flat lands of Nicaragua in the dry season.

This area was 'discovered' by Columbus around 1506 who named it Costa Rica (Rich Coast) after seeing the amount of gold jewelry worn by the natives. He then tried, and failed to obtain the governorship of the country when he fell out of favour in the Spanish Royal court. Queen Isabella, his former patron was growing ill and King Ferdinand had other favourites besides Columbus. Later Spanish conquests found the claims of riches to be exaggerated and the country was largely disregarded by Conquistadors who set about enslaving the rest of Central America instead. This all worked in favour of the modern Costa Rica which consequently managed to retain much of it's primary forest. Today the country is replete with exotic habitats and strange wildlife.

As we ride on the cloud lifts and, looking back, we finally get some fine views of Volcan Arenal - puffing smoke as it broods and patiently waits. This is Central America's most active volcano erupting almost continuously - you can even see the red lava glow at night...

Also patient, the hawks scan the long grass for tell-tale movements which could signal an early lunch....

Not only is the wildlife exotic, but the land provides great varieties of fruits as well. There are the usual pineapples, bananas, passion fruits, papayas and melons, but we pull over to stock up on a mid morning snack of 'Pejibayes' and 'Momones'. Pejibayes are a small yellow/red fruit, the size of a ping pong ball that grow in clusters on gnarly wooded stems – like an oversized bunch of grapes. Boiled for an hour, they taste like a cross between a chestnut and a sweet potato and are totally delicious. Momones just look odd! Peeled they are like a sticky gumball of chewy grape-ness and are quite addictive....

All very pleasant; but then we pass 'Florencia' and find that Costa Rica is also famous for it's disregard of steep gradients. Road builders will often take the snaky, meandering route when it suits them, but sometimes they just get an evil glint in their eye and just plough straight on with no allowances for sanity. Florencia to San Carlos is lung bustingly steep and really sorts the men from the boys. Hitting it in the heat of mid afternoon really tests a cycle tourist's metal. We take a well earned breather to catch our breath and let our racing hearts be still when suddenly an odd thing happens....

A man is calmly toiling up the hill carrying a tree trunk, maybe 15 feet long. It looks like hard work! A police car passes us by and stops at the roadside maybe 100m away. The man with the tree sees the police, drops his log, walks on past us and then stops. He seems to consider for a minute, then turns and sprints full pelt directly towards us....

I'm just beginning to get tense....

but he races on past us, down the hill and disappears.

The police car slowly drives off in the opposite direction.

It just all seemed a bit odd at the time.

I don't think anyone really considered how the tree trunk was affected.

Anyway just as we reach the top of the climb, the heavens open again and we are drenched in cool rain. Funny how in Central America, the best views always seem to be taken by shanty huts or wooden shacks with tin roofs. This one just seems to be throwing down a gauntlet and challenging the powers of gravity on it's spindly stilts....

We finally make it to the top of what must approach 20 percent gradients in places, and take a rest day in San Carlos.

Checking the map reveals the reason for the extreme road - it was heading directly up the side of Volcan Porvenir which, in about 10 kilometres, climbs from 250m (800ft) up to 2183m (7200ft). Fortunately for us, after San Carlos, the road dog legs by 90 degrees and we skirt the base of this huge volcano.

These are the back roads now, miles away from the carnage of the Pan-American Highway and it's more gorgeous riding in this emerald land past fan palms looking back to the volcano and the 3000m (10,000ft) peaks of he Cordillera Central....

Like I said before, you're never far away from other diners on a lunch break and today is no exception....

I'd rather have my tuna fish sandwiches than what this guy is eating, but he's a nasty looking fellow with a big red spike on his back....

Not all the wild life looks so deadly though. Bright crimson flashes in the trees draw your attention to the beautiful plumage of the birds....

This is a variety of 'Tanager' and when he takes to the wing, the whole area across his back is that bright scarlet colour.

We stop for a water break, which just happens to be outside a locked gateway and a few minutes later a woman and a young boy appear to ask if we were waiting to come in. We're a bit bemused, but also curious so we follow them in as they swing the large gates aside. What follows is a short tour conducted by Joseph and his sister Amelia. Joseph is about ten years old going on forty and has grandiose, adult mannerisms as he walks us to the river past his lemon trees and painted animal statues of deer and zebra. He even puts his hands behind his back as he strolls! There is the ancient butterfly house, now sadly empty plus secret gardens hidden away behind dense foliage. This place must have been amazing in it's heyday; now it is slowly being reclaimed by the jungle, but there is still an old basketball court with seating for many, plus a covered BBQ area with lawns and flower gardens of fabulous orchids....

It's the kind of thing that just seems to happen occasionally – small, totally unexpected diversions. Joseph and Amelia treat us like old friends and we can't leave until we have met the rest of the family consisting of several generations and Joseph has thoroughly embarrassed me at one-on-one football.

We hole up near La Virgen in our best accommodation bargain so far in CR – a private cabin for just $8. Normally rooms here have been quite expensive by Central American standards, up to $20 for a basic place....

The day dawns sunny and bright and it's already sweltering when we hit the road. Fortunately we are heading back towards the coast and away from the central mountain chains, so the land here is flat. Originally we had planned to ride through the mountains for the spectacular scenery, but that was before we lost so much time. Now, deep in the wet season, those scenic views are no more as the world is hidden under dense fog and cloud, and the storms are even more ferocious than here. So, after a change of plans we're taking the road along the Caribbean coast and that means crossing a series of huge river bridges as we traverse the huge drainage basin for all those mountain storms.

It's amazing after the amount of rain we have seen that these rivers are not even close to full yet....

But when you consider just how dense the rain forest is, and how many thirsty roots there are slurping away at the wet ground, it just takes months for the ground to get sodden enough for the bigger watercourses to fill up again.

At the small village of Flores we find another bargain - $12 for a very private riverside cabin directly overlooking the River Chirripo. I'm just jokingly telling Sue how disappointed I am that I haven't seen a Toucan yet and that we're not leaving Costa Rica until we do - when one suddenly appears in the tree directly opposite our balcony - just as I am picking up my camera and long lens....

ANOTHER GOTCHA.... A 'Keel Billed Toucan'

The timing is even better as he takes flight ahead of the storm clouds that roll in once more and the river gains another little inch or two....