close encounters of the Jaguar kind

Finally Accuweather's prediction came true and when it's drizzling in St Cristobal there is only one thing to do: go down to 'tierra caliente' (the hot land) at the bottom of the mountain.














We arrived at Chiapa del Corzo, a colonial town below St Cristobal, seeking a mythical 'ecological park' which is vaguely mentioned in the guide book. Getting to the park proved to be somewhat like the quest for the Holy Grail. It had no website, no-one appeared to have heard of it except the lady in the tourist office who described it as 'dilapidated', and when we tried to get to it one of the men manning the boats near the river described it as impossible to get to and suggested a trip around the local island instead.

Oh yes, because that's the other thing about the worst marketed theme park in the world, you have to get to it by boat and then hope that someone comes to get you to take you back. It's a 40 minute journey along the Cañon de Sumidero in a fast boat called a lancha, and you have to persuade the driver of the boat to stop halfway down.















Even when we finally found somewhere to buy a ticket and got on the boat, the driver wasn't sure her was going to stop there because of the wind. But it was too late, we were already in, with two children in lifejackets that were slightly too big and a large helping of adrenalin.













We've done the trip along the Canyon in a boat before, but not with kids. We held onto them for dear life as we zipped along the river with the cliffs towering high above us. The guide pointed out spider monkeys in the trees, vultures, and the place where the Chiapas Indians jumped to their deaths rather than be captured by the Spanish. I began to feel we were in for the same fate. When the park finally drew near I nearly bottled it and went back rather than go to the 'dilapidated' park. But the kids needed food so we got off, hoping at least that the food was edible

After the mythical quest to reach the park it came as no surprise that there were only five other people there when we arrived. They must have been very determined. We braced ourselves for the worst, but the whole experience was oddly magical.












First we passed through an enclosed area screened off by hanging curtains of rope. At first we thought this was just for effect, but when we looked up there were toucans in the trees, and red macaws. They came so close we could touch them (in fact, later they came so close I feared that they might peck Clover). I've never seen a toucan up close before, but they were absolutely stunning and lots of fun too.














Later, after lunch, we had an encounter that was nearly far too close. The park has a pair of jaguar, which are native to Chiapas, and we went up to have a look. We were (unsurprisingly) the only ones there, and the jaguar were extremely curious and came over to have a look. That is when I noticed that the cage was made of wire big enough for Daisy to poke a hand through and that she was just about to try to touch the big kitty's nose. I was calm at the time as we pulled her back, but I don't like to think of it now.













We walked around open an enclosure with (non-poisonous) snakes and saw another snake that had just shed its skin. We got up close with the crocodiles.











We didn't have time or inclination for the monkeys, puma, kayaking, rock climbing and zip slide and it was slightly too cold for the glorious pool. We also had a fantastic lunch where we did, I admit, see a party of tourists. The rest of the time we were able to have the park to ourselves. It was so quiet that the staff were able to come and find us when our boat arrived (at which point I was trying to breastfeed Clover while an inquisitive toucan tried to steal our map).















All in all, despite the mythic quest and the fear factor we all had a fabulous time and there's probably much more still to see. A grand day out - though I'll be keeping Daisy away from that jaguar cage in future.