We’re up early today. Actually, we’re up early every day. Near the Equator, the only seasons are rainy and dry, and sunrise and sunset barely changes. As a result, people align their days around the sun. It rises at around 5am, and so do we.
At dawn, we make our way over the mountains, up to over 3000m and deep into the cloud forest. Flashes of dense jungle emerge from the fog, and the occasional view unveils waves of mist-dappled rainforest crested by banks of cloud stretching into the distance. As we descend at a crawl behind ancient trucks, picking their way along the Pan-American Highway, the temperature rises and the 100% humidity soon has us all opening windows and letting the damp breeze flow through the bus.
After 4 hours, and some interesting driving, we reach Sierpe, a tiny town by the banks of the Rio Sierpe. We load our luggage into an open-topped fiberglass boat, and along with other visitors and locals, head out along the eponymous river, snaking its way towards the Pacific. The captain clearly enjoys this trip; twin 300hp engines blast us along, banking hard around the twisting turns of the river; passing basking crocodiles en route. As we emerge from the mouth of the river, we need to get past a ring of breakers forming a natural barrier to the ocean. Riding the cresting waves, the captain times this well, but it’s a bumpy ride. Once clear, we head along the coast until we reach Bahia Drake – Drake Bay.
The boat reaches our lodging, nestled in the jungle by the beach. There are no pontoons here and everyone disembarks barefoot into the surf, holding bags aloft, wading onto the sandy beach. It’s 2pm and we haven’t eaten since 6am. We get the keys to our room, and a hangry Ben makes a sharp retreat into the small town of Drake Bay for some belated lunch.
Drake Bay town is a tiny ramshackle little village with two small ‘supermarkets’, and a couple of restaurants. After lunch, we wander back to our lodging and read our books, sat outside, overlooking the bay. An early dinner of Mahi Mahi, rice, beans and salad and we all head out into the night with torches to meet José, a local biologist, for a night hike into the jungle.
We’re given gumboots, and wade into a small, fast-flowing river. The boots hold up for about 5 minutes before they’re flooded by deeper sections of water. It’s warm though, and it’s raining again so nobody cares. The jungle is loud. A chorus of cicadas and frogs accompany us. José asks us to hold back as we round a small bend in the river. He said he’d spotted a viper here recently so we should take care where we tread. Sure enough, just round the bend, a small head pokes up from the river bank – a Fer-de-lance viper. Very poisonous, and not in any way fussed by us.
But the objective of tonight’s hike was frogs. Our guide studies frogs and knows exactly where to look. He shows us transparent Glass Frogs mating or looking after their young, and a Poison Dart (Granular) Frog – simply touching the skin of which will stop your heart within minutes. We spend a good 30 minutes hunting for the iconic Red-Eyed Tree Frogs (of Life on Earth fame)… sadly, while we could hear them, we never spotted one. The walk was fascinating, and more than a little bit creepy – there are large spiders everywhere. After spotting a couple, José told us to hold our torches to our noses and look ahead. Scanning the riverbanks, tens of little green eyes reflected back at you – each belonging to another spider.
Travels with Sklaroffs 