The Belize Zoo pleasantly surprised us. Containing only animals native to Belize, the cages were very nicely set-up, filled with natural vegetation. They had essentially just been built around the existing plants. Of course in some cases this meant that the occupants were very difficult to locate but when we finally did spot them they appeared very healthy and happy. Our run of bad luck concerning herp exhibits continued - once again that particular section was closed for repairs. There were some very nice lizards running around uncaged though, bright green iguanids that were too quick to catch.
When we'd exhausted San Ignacio's activities we crossed back over the border and into Guatemala. The bus dropped us off at El Cruce (the crossroads) from where we walked a couple of kilometres to a small lakeside village called El Remate, a light sun shower cooling us off on the way. A Swiss bicyclist we'd met in Belmopan had told us of a wonderful if slightly peculiar "hotel", situated here, run by a mad Kiwi.
He wasn't exaggerating. Perched on the hillside overlooking the lake was a collection of white huts made from limestone cement. The windows lacked glass and the doorways doors and they contained nothing but a couple of hammocks. For a very small fee these accommodations could be rented from a strange, dope-chain-smoking New Zealander. When I paid for the hut he told me that he was cooking up a special treat for dinner, but when I passed the news on to Kate she was a trifle sceptical. At sunset we wandered up to the large open hut that served as the kitchen and dining room. There we met the owner's large vegetarian Rottweiler, and sat down to a candlelight dinner of fresh armadillo!
The next evening, as we sat on the hill watching the sun set, we saw thick grey clouds roll down onto the lake. Over dinner they emptied their contents in a short, heavy burst of rain and soon after we were enveloped by a cloud of insects - swarming termites, attracted to the candles. These in turn attracted another visitor, a truly rotund toad. We watched in amusement as he continued on his voracious way, devouring the termites, his distended belly dragging on the floor. Every now and then his thick pink tongue missed its target, slapped onto the limestone wall and stuck there. When he tried to pull his tongue back in he would drag himself forward, colliding with the wall and we would all collapse in hysterics. Eventually he decided that one more termite would be too much of a good thing and he waddled back into the night.
Soon after he left my ears detected the presence of some more amphibians. Somewhere nearby was a loud chorus of frogs. I ventured out into the light rain and tracked the sound down to a dugout canoe, filled with water and surrounded by some bizarre looking frogs. They were fat and brown with pointy little heads and a thin yellow stripe running down the middle of their backs. Their heads looked like they'd been tacked on as an afterthought, so small were they in comparison to the rest of the body. We later identified them as Hypopachus variolosus, a member of the family Microhylidae, although much larger than any Australian microhylid.
After taking some photos I went back to the hut to get Kate, not wanting her to miss out on seeing these unusual anurans. She was a little nervous about the idea, not happy about crossing the barbed wire fence into what was presumably someone else's property. In typical herpetologist fashion, however, I brushed her concerns aside and dragged her off into the wet vegetation. She was as entranced by the frogs as I was but our examination was cut short when a horse whinnied right beside us. I'm not sure how we actually got there, but back in the safety of the hut I weathered Kate's "I told you so" glare, an appropriately chastened look on my face.
We stayed at El Remate for longer than we'd planned, relaxing in our hammocks, watching the Ameiva and Basiliscus forage outside, swimming in the warm waters of the lake and visiting the Biotopo Cerro Cahui, a nearby biological preserve. There we saw some very attractively marked anoles, mottled greeny-grey with a bright orange stripe with scalloped edges down their backs (later identified as Norops lemurinus).
Eventually though, we had to return to Guatemala City. There we finalised arrangements with Dr Michael Dix, an American working at the Universidad del Valle just outside the city. Before leaving Australia I had been in contact with Dr Dix arranging to help him with any field work he might be conducting. Unfortunately we arrived during a slow period but he did offer us the opportunity to tag along on a student field trip to catch animals in the Sierras de las Minas mountains.
First up though we spent a few days helping him out by curating the university's collection of pickled herps. This proved to be a good way to familiarise ourselves with some of the local species and it was here that we figured out the identities of some of the animals we'd seen earlier.
When it was time for the field trip we joined the students on an old American school bus and set off in the late afternoon. After a few hours travel we arrived at a house belonging to the parents of one of the students. We set ourselves up and then drove out to a nearby creek to start our search for herps, turning up some frogs (including some huge cane toads) and a small colubrid snake (Leptodeira annulata).
The next day we headed up the mountain, stopping periodically to sample the herpetofauna at different altitudes. We caught members of only two genera - the ever present Norops and Sceloporus. Some of the students employed an interesting technique to catch these quick lizards. It involved placing the barrel of an air rifle within inches of their quarry and firing. The ride up the mountain was pretty hairy, the old school bus constantly threatening to topple down the mountain or just refuse to negotiate the steep road, but we eventually arrived at the top.
The trip down the mountain the next day was less disconcerting. At one point Kate and I walked on ahead as the students scoured a riverbed for more animals to add to their collections. I came across a striped lizard (Cnemidophorus) which proved just as fast as the Ctenotus it resembled. I chased it around and around, leaving more and more of my flesh blood on the thorns of the acacias through which I was being led. Just as I was about to give up, I saw another striped form move off from beside my booted foot and all thoughts of the lizard left my mind as I leapt after the slender snake trying to make its getaway. When the bus caught up to us Dr Dix identified my catch as a Conophis lineatus, a species of colubrid found in the dry Guatemalan forests.
The next day we returned to the university and Dr Dix showed us his collection of native herps, including several species of viper. He brought one of these outside for me to photograph, along with the Conophis I'd caught the previous day. The viper was very large and looked particularly malevolent. It wasn't until I'd taken my photos, getting in nice and close, that I was informed that the common name of this particular species was the jumping viper and that they were capable of launching themselves quite a distance at their prey. Or perhaps the odd over- confident photographer.
Next stop Costa Rica.