The snake winds itself beautifully around the tree trunk. Another poses on a lush green leaf, with the Arenal Volcano in the background. Simply incredible, the perfect coincidence – or is it?

We have often wondered how it is that animals in photos always pose so beautifully – mind you, wild animals.

The answer? It’s sobering: the animals are placed exactly where people want them.

The methods behind the photo

With cold-blooded animals, there are particularly questionable methods: when they are chilled, they hardly move. There are even reports of limbs being suspended by threads. A famous photo of a frog riding a beetle was likely staged this way, as the two species are not active at the same time of day.

Bringing a jaguar into the right position in the wild is difficult – if not impossible. To give tourists a guaranteed sighting, providers resort to aids. Feeding stations are far more common than one might think.

We have also been offered a guaranteed sighting of a “wild” ocelot, or taken to a feeding site for tapirs; even the Orinoco crocodile is fed regularly so that it remains within the national reserve and isn’t killed outside its borders.

Feeding stations for birds are found almost everywhere: Bananas and sugar water are popular choices.

As long as tour operators can guarantee sightings, their income is secure. This leads to a dangerous set of expectations. Tourists want “wildlife photos”. In Costa Rica, the practice went so far that sloths, for example, were taken down from trees just for a “wildlife selfie”. The government launched an awareness campaign in 2019. Perhaps it helped. We didn’t experience anything of this sort ourselves, but we read about it.

With snakes, however, we witnessed a different side of the story.

The business of “perfect” nature

In Costa Rica, we came across a particularly negative practice: a photographer told us about providers who carry snakes around in boxes to position them in the perfect spot. We also came across a post on Facebook denouncing this exact practice.

And why? Simply to offer tourists the perfect picture. It would quite frankly be too exhausting to spend the night in the jungle without a guaranteed find – plus, you can’t see the volcano at night.

Unfortunately, this practice is quite widespread – even in countries like Costa Rica, where animal welfare is supposedly a high priority. What can then be expected from other countries that hardly care about it at all?

Encounters with Costa Rica’s primates

We see “big monkeys” all the time – after all, we’re all guilty of making a monkey out of ourselves every now and then. But those that actually still swing through the treetops are, sadly, becoming fewer and farther between.

By now, we’ve reached the north of Central America, and here they have become a rare sight. Since crossing the border from Costa Rica, we haven’t spotted a single monkey – we haven’t even heard one. Reason enough to look back wistfully at our time in Costa Rica, where we were lucky enough to observe all four native monkey species, some of them on multiple occasions.

Capuchin: grumpy and intelligent

They usually look a bit grumpy, but curiosity almost always wins the day: Capuchin monkeys (cebinae). Their habitat stretches from Central America down to Northern Argentina. They owe their name to Portuguese explorers, who felt the monkeys’ colouring resembled the cowls worn by Capuchin friars.

It’s fascinating to note that Capuchins have quite a large brain relative to their body size. Scientists attribute this to their complex foraging techniques. They are extremely adaptable and skilled tool users – we watched them feeding time and again, even seeing them tuck into coconuts.

Howler monkeys: loud and leisurely

You often hear them long before you see them: the loud Howler monkeys (alouatta) frequently served as our natural jungle alarm clock at four in the morning. After the Woolly Spider monkeys (brachyteles), they are the largest monkeys in the New World.

A fascinating detail: They are the only New World primates to have developed trichromatic colour vision (similar to us humans). Their namesake roar, which can be heard for several kilometres, is used for communication between different groups. This makes them officially the loudest land animals on Earth! Despite their leisurely pace, they are expert climbers and often use their prehensile tail as a “fifth hand” – strong enough to support their entire body weight during a leap.

For me, monkeys are definitely animals I could watch for hours on end – no matter how many times we’ve seen them before. And honestly? Even that loud roaring at 4 am has become something quite beautiful and comforting to me. It’s the sound of the wild, and I truly hope we get to hear it for many years to come.

From our perspective, the American continent is bordered by two oceans: the Atlantic and the Pacific. For most travellers, the sea accompanies them along the entire route from north to south, or vice versa. For us, however, it was slightly different. For long periods, we travelled almost exclusively inland through South America.

But now, in Central America, there is no escape. The sea is never far away and provides us with wonderful places to stay time and time again. The sea creatures are fascinating too, especially in the middle of whale season.

Visiting humpback whales

We hadn’t seen any for a long time because we hadn’t been near the coast. In Ecuador, we arrived either too early or too late for the season, as there was no sign of the whales.

But in Panama, we arrived at just the right time. This meant that we absolutely had to get out on the water to see them!

Whale watching has become big business in this region. Prices are often correspondingly high. In Panama, specifically in Santa Catalina, they wanted to charge between 80 and 100 US dollars. To be fair, this includes not only whale watching but also snorkelling and the park entrance fee.

However, we received a tip from other travellers about a cheaper option with fewer tourists. Since we had already been fortunate enough to see a humpback whale calf practising its jumps and observe other whales from a distance during our diving trip, we thought long and hard about it. But at 30 US$ per person for six hours on the water, we couldn’t complain.

We drove to Boca Brava. Despite it being the rainy season, our guide was waiting for us there on a beautiful sunny day. Five American expats joined us on the boat. The eight of us set off in the small boat for Chiriquí National Park. Right in the middle was a mother swimming with her calf. They kept coming very close to the boat! It took an hour for another tourist boat to arrive. So we were almost alone the entire time.

Seeing these little calves swimming, and then seeing the mothers appear right next to them, was deeply impressive. This is especially impressive given how much bigger they are than our little boat. These giants can grow up to 15 metres long, which is rather small for the rorqual family, and weigh between 25 and 30 tonnes. We saw whales repeatedly that day, both from the beach and from the boat.

Can you do whale watching from bed?

In Costa Rica, we tried again. This time, from our bed looking through the tent window, parking on a beach near Puerto Jiménez where whales are often seen. We didn’t see the whales, but we did see dolphins, rays and turtles.

The second time we went whale watching, it was in Uvita, with a colleague of Michi’s brother who organises whale-watching tours. He took us on a fishing trip with his friends. I still find fishing boring, but there were whales in the bay. We saw them jumping in the distance repeatedly, and then a mother and calf came very close.

It was different here, though. Despite it being the off-season, five other boats carrying up to 15 people surrounded the animals. So much for whale watching alone! It’s a completely different experience to have the animals almost exclusively to yourself. We are looking forward to new encounters on our way north. After all, we will continue to encounter the coast and its fascinating inhabitants all along the way.

When leafing through travel brochures, it is impossible to imagine the tropics without colourful birds in the sky. Parrots, toucans and hummingbirds seem to be everywhere. These colourful birds are indeed an integral part of the image of the tropics.

We also enjoy watching these vibrant creatures, particularly macaws, which are the largest species of true parrot, in South and Central America. They are exclusively native to this continent and vary greatly in size and colour, but their cries betray their presence wherever they are. Macaws are intelligent, social and extremely communicative. This makes them fascinating, but unfortunately also makes them popular for keeping as pets. This spells disaster for them in the wild.

The alarm clock

While we mainly saw blue species in the south, they became increasingly redder the further north we went. The largest of these is the hyacinth macaw, which can grow to a length of up to one metre. Its deep blue plumage and yellow skin around the beak make it unmistakable.

The scarlet macaw is probably the best known, with its bright red, yellow and blue feathers. However, the blue-and-yellow macaw is also a classic of the tropical rainforest. There are eight species in total and two are already extinct, while four are critically endangered. Seeing the birds in the wild is incredibly impressive.

Unfortunately, macaws’ beauty and ability to mimic sounds also make them popular pets. Their wings are often clipped to stop them flying away. We saw many such animals on our trip. They make popular photo subjects and tourist attractions. Even though measures are being taken to combat this, once the birds have become accustomed to humans, they cannot simply be returned to the wild — especially if they can no longer fly.

In Colombia, however, we encountered an unusual pair of macaws that were allowed to fly freely. They had been living with a family for years. They could have flown away at any time, but chose to stay, probably because they had grown up there as chicks. The male was extremely territorial and would regularly attack men. Only the grandmother could control all the birds, but unfortunately she was not there that day. So, we had to constantly defend our plates of rice from the two macaws.

One of the macaws was particularly inquisitive. He inspected our handwashing routine, tested the hammock, tasted the coffee, and finally examined our entire car. With them around, it was never boring.

Endangered paradise

In the wild, adult macaws have few natural enemies. The greatest threat to their survival is the loss of their habitat due to deforestation and land conversion for agriculture. Like many other animals in the tropical rainforest, macaws are also suffering from the disappearance of their natural habitat. Old trees provide them with a home, and without the forest, there are no nests.

Poaching and the illegal wildlife trade also hinder efforts to preserve populations in the wild. However, there are some successful conservation projects, such as the one in Costa Rica where macaws can easily find food thanks to the planting of sea almond trees, and their numbers have recovered.

Macaws live in stable pair relationships. They are almost always seen flying in pairs and are faithful to each other for life. In captivity, they can live up to 65 years. I think that’s because they have one advantage over us: if they can’t stand each other for a while, they have the whole sky at their disposal! We, on the other hand, are stuck sharing a few square metres in the Land Cruiser!

At seventy, Picopando is finally enjoying his retirement in his own pond – together with his partner. This is what the guide at Hato Masaguaral in Venezuela tells us. In front of us, a large, somewhat distorted, pointed snout, more reminiscent of a fossil than a living animal, rises out of the water. But suddenly the crocodile moves, hoisting itself heavily yet nimbly onto a mound of earth. It’s feeding time.

Only now does its size become apparent: this male weighs 380 kilograms. You can see its age, but we would never have guessed 70 years; it could just as easily be 700 years old.

An endangered species with a tiny population

Estimates suggest that there are only 250 to 1,500 individuals left in the wild. At Hato Masaguaral, a kind of ranch, young animals are bred, raised and later released into the wild. The eggs are incubated – with the ambient temperature determining whether females or males hatch from a clutch. The young are then cared for for about a year, because in their first year they are easy prey to other animals and few survive. Only when they weigh six kilograms are they allowed to discover the Llanos, their original habitat in the Orinoco River basin.

With a length of up to 6 metres, the Orinoco crocodile is one of the largest crocodile species in the world. We saw it live on a safari in the Colombian Llanos Orientales:

As we do often, we drove to a remote area, to Hato La Aurora. The ranch has a huge protected area where many different species can be seen: jaguars, tapirs, caimans, capybaras and anacondas. The latter were also the reason for our stay, although we ended up seeing them elsewhere.

But we went on the safari anyway. We set off in a small yellow open-top Toyota. We hoped to see the crocodile at some point, but we also knew that it was very unlikely. Our driver was not very talkative, but he stopped next to a pool without comment.

Suddenly, a five-metre-long, eight-year-old male swam elegantly towards us and plopped himself onto the bank. Michael looked at me in amazement and simply said that it didn’t look like a caiman. And it wasn’t: we were standing just a few metres away from an Orinoco crocodile. In the other pool, we saw the female, his former partner. When we asked, our driver told us that the male had escaped. They feed the animals from time to time to keep them there. They are not locked up, they could leave, but outside the reserve they are hunted. Besides, it’s good for business.

Humboldt saw millions, but today you have to search for them

There are several projects in Venezuela and Colombia aimed at ensuring the survival of this species. Every year, around 150 animals are released from Hato Masaguaral. But only a fraction of them survive long enough to reproduce. Shortly before our visit to Hato La Aurora in Colombia, they had released 50 young animals – we didn’t get to see any.

Historical reports, including those by Alexander von Humboldt, describe the banks of the Orinoco River as once infested with crocodiles. Today, their population has shrunk dramatically.

At the beginning of the 20th century, the population was estimated at three million animals. The animals were killed, but not systematically hunted. People were afraid because there were stories of killed specimens in which jewellery and human bones were found. Fishermen and washerwomen in particular were in danger of being killed by crocodiles. Then the fashion industry emerged and with it the demand for high-quality leather. And its decline began.

From 1930 to 1960, the population was decimated. The profession of caimanero, or caiman hunter, emerged and hunting operations were organised. The animals were hunted until not a single specimen could be found in the area. According to official figures, 790 tonnes of crocodile leather were exported in 1931. Some scientists estimate that 2.5 million crocodiles died in the early years.

Today, the animal is threatened with extinction and strictly protected. There are hardly any documented cases of smuggling, but in poverty-stricken Venezuela, crocodiles and their eggs are occasionally used as a source of food. Or they are killed out of fear. However, there are so few specimens that they are hardly ever seen outside protected areas.

Where hippos became American

We are sitting in a small boat in the middle of a huge river. The heat is stifling, there is not a breath of wind. The afternoon sun is merciless, and we seek shelter as best we can in the sparse shade of the trees near the bank. This is how we imagine a safari in Africa. But actually, we are somewhere else entirely.

The heat should be perfect for observing these animals. On the first day, however, luck is not on our side. Not a single pachyderm appears. ‘Huh, aren’t you in South America?’ you may ask. Yes, that’s right, and this text is based on true events. No, we’re not at the zoo either. We’re on a hippo safari on the Magdalena River in Colombia.

Free roaming hippos in America?

We contact Yamit from Tortugario. He is one of the few who sensed a business opportunity and we book a hippo safari in Colombia with him.

The village of Estación Cocorná is located on a tributary of the Río Magdalena. It once had a railway station that connected the agricultural region with Medellín. The area was dominated by Escobar and the people were not doing too badly. They worked in agriculture and livestock farming as well as coca cultivation, and Escobar paid for the school supplies of the local children. It was just better to keep quiet.

Yamit’s family lived with this reality and adapted; but they were still a little different. The mother followed an education in biology and environmental protection. One day, while travelling on the river, they noticed that there were almost no turtles. Their eggs were stolen by poachers and their meat was considered a delicacy. So she decided to save the turtles. Her project envisaged a breeding and protection station: the Tortugario in Estación Cocorná.

More than ten years later, it has been a complete success. The turtles are back. We have seen them swimming in large numbers along the shore. But species conservation alone does not bring in any money. So, the family has set up a tour company and offers river trips along the Río Cocorná down to the Magdalena River. Exactly at the point where the two rivers meet a small hippo colony has also settled.

Coliving in the area

On the second day, we are lucky. In the morning, we drive to the vicinity of Hacienda Nápoles. There are small lagoons outside. At one of them, the landowner has a small shop and, in exchange for a Coke, he lets us visit the hippos. There are four: three adults and a baby. They lie in the pond and don’t let themselves be disturbed. That’s just as well, because there are few trees nearby where we could have sought refuge. And hippos are fast and dangerous – at least in Africa. In Colombia, Yamit claims, they have not yet killed anyone, but there are repeated attacks on humans.

In the afternoon, we decide to go down the river again. Again, a long wait. The sun is about to set. The light refracts in the water, which looks beautiful.

There, we see a hippopotamus! It keeps popping up briefly at the surface and then diving back down into the murky water. It seems curious, or maybe it wants to defend its territory. It keeps turning towards us and then diving abruptly. Yamit pulls on the gas and drives off – you never know if it’s planning an underwater attack. The locals nearby don’t seem impressed at all. Without batting an eyelid, they drive onto the beach and collect sand. The hippo must be somewhere under their boat, but it leaves them alone. Hats off, I wouldn’t have that kind of courage!

A little further up the river, we discover a second specimen. It is slowly getting dark, but we enjoy the sight. We keep a safe distance in the boat with the engine running because this hippo keeps jumping out of the water and we are clearly in its territory.

Projects worth the journey: between threats and hope in the Putumayo region of Colombia

We leave Ecuador – a country full of inspiring projects and definitely one of the most impressive on our journey through South America.

In Colombia, we venture across one of the border crossings that are considered ‘dangerous’ into the Putumayo region.

We don’t want to minimise the danger – it exists. Right at the border crossing, a policeman asks us if we don’t want to help him. He is standing in the rain and a little money for a drink would be welcome. We kindly say no – and he lets us into the country anyway. Welcome to Colombia, we think.

Caution and prejudice

There are hardly any other sources of income. Cattle farming, the timber industry and oil production drive the economy – and at the same time the destruction. The jungle hardly stands a chance.

In addition, there is drug trafficking and organised crime. This border area is a central gateway in the cocaine trade to Ecuador – and from there to the big, wide world.

The guerrillas held sway here for a long time. Despite the peace agreement, they have never completely disappeared. Although there are initial attempts to build a tourism network, the movement in the region, and in the country as a whole, is currently heading in the wrong direction: more fighting, more violence, more drugs.

In general, Colombia is changing again – unfortunately for the worse.

Projects worth the journey: brave indigenous women that unite tourism, tradition and conservation

Indigenous and woman… A combination that in itself makes life difficult all over the world. It is no different in South America. According to the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, only one in ten indigenous girls finishes secondary school in Latin America.

In general, being a woman is hard enough in these parts. Even I, a privileged white woman, often notice it when they explain to me how the world works, when they don’t believe I know how to drive, or when they correct my Spanish because they use a different word here and the one I use is probably made up. Depending on the day, I don’t cope too well with it.

Imagine not having had the opportunity to receive a good basic education, living in a tribe and growing up in a cultural and economic context different from that of the upper caste. In short, you are in the lowest possible status. The realities of the rich and the poor differ much more in this part of the world. But sometimes you come across extraordinary initiatives that seek to change the paradigm somewhat.

The women of the community of San Pedro, in Misahuallí Ecuador, are one such example to follow. Despite being indigenous, and women, they have created their own business from which a whole community lives. And it is beautiful.

Sinchi Warmi Lodge – Brave women

Sofia welcomes us. She explains everything to us, invites us to guayusa tea and prepares some potato chunks, which is what they have at the moment instead of bread, then takes us to the bridge and throws the chunks into the water. Bam! There is a loud noise in the water. It is the mouth of something gigantic. “A paiche of about 2.50 metres,” she explains. It spits out again the potato, the fish doesn’t like vegetables too much.

The paiche, also known as arapaima or pirarucu, is one of the largest freshwater fish, reaching up to four metres and weighing up to 200 kilos. It has large black scales and a huge red tail. Its eyes and tail scales reflect the light of torches at night. It looks like a giant monster approaching with only its eyes showing.

It feeds mainly on other fish, but also eats birds, insects and other small mammals. They hunt them by suction: they open their big mouths and create a vacuum that attracts their prey, which causes that characteristic noise.

At Sinchi Warmi they have three giants, the oldest is about eight years old. The fish accompanies us throughout our stay and, at night, we can hear them hunting as they propel themselves quickly to catch their prey. By the way, it is also a very tasty fish to eat.

Everyone knows Africa’s famous Big Five: lion, leopard, buffalo, rhino, and elephant. Spotting all of them on one safari is a challenge — and that’s exactly what makes them special.

After months of traveling across South America, we thought: why not make our own version? Our South American Big Five is a personal list — based on animals we were most excited (and struggled!) to see in the wild. This wasn’t about ticking off mammals or checking boxes at a zoo. As one traveller suggested we best go see jaguars in the Manaus’ Zoo, we laughed. That’s not why we’re here.

We’re here for our South American safari. And what an adventure it turned out to be.

Here’s our list:

Jaguar, Tapir, Spectacled Bear, Anaconda, Orinoco Crocodile… and one surprise guest you’ll never guess.

1. Jaguar

In the south of the Pantanal, Brazil — the best place in the world to spot jaguars — we searched high and low. No luck. Same in the north, even on dedicated tours. We were about to leave when we stopped by a river for a break… and there she was. A young female jaguar, watching us from across the water. Frozen, curious. A moment we’ll never forget.

We turned around, drove back the 147 kilometres of the Transpantaneira, and gave it another shot. That decision paid off: we saw seven jaguars on our second safari. Bororo, a big male, even let us follow him downriver for three hours. Unforgettable.

2. Tapir

The largest native herbivore in South America (after cows, if you count those!). Tapirs play a key role in seed dispersal — they’re the gardeners of the rainforest.

Like jaguars, they’re notoriously hard to spot. But remember that lucky river spot? It came through again: two tapirs in a few days. One surprised us during a jungle hike — blink and you’d miss it. The other was more relaxed, grazing and bathing by the roadside at dusk. Calm, majestic, and completely unbothered by our presence.

The Andean or spectacled bear is the only bear species native to South America. Elusive and shy, it roams the Andes.

We searched from Bolivia to Ecuador. Our second last try in Maquipucuna Reserve was mistimed — the bears only show up in autumn to feast on wild avocados. But we had one last hope: a village near the Colombian border, where bears visit year-round (thanks to, you guessed it — avocado plantations).

And finally, there they were. Early morning black dots moving on the opposite slope, and again in the afternoon, foraging. They were distant, but awe-inspiring nonetheless.

4. Anaconda

The heaviest snake in the world. Legendary. Mysterious. Hard to find.

We searched in Brazil, Bolivia, and Ecuador — nothing. We were ready to give up when Michael, staring out the window on a muddy road in Colombia, suddenly shouted, “Stop!”.

5. Orinoco Crocodile

Want to spot an animal of which only about 250 remain in the wild? Now that’s a challenge.

For my 30th birthday, we did something special. We headed to Colombia’s Llanos, near the Orinoco basin. The reason? Our last chance to see anacondas. But we kept joking that it would be great to find an Orinoco crocodile — South America’s only true crocodile species (the others are caimans).

What we didn’t know: the reserve was involved in a rewilding project and had recently released 50 young crocs. Survival is tough — many fall prey or get hunted, people are afraid and see them as a delicacy. But some endure.

At a small lagoon, after turtles rushed toward our safari car, we saw something bigger move… a large, 8-year-old male Orinoco crocodile, approaching us. Likely used to being fed to keep him within the reserve — a bittersweet reality, but perhaps a necessary compromise for survival.