We decided to go off for a few days on a little adventure of our own, and I had my heart set on a dugout canoe trip into the Darien peninsula with native guides. We could drive into Darien, but not very far. Eventually, the road would turn to jungle.
He wanted to go to Contadora, one of the resorts on Islas de las Perlas, off the Pacific coast. We could fly there from Panama City.
The deciding factor was anacondas, as he so graphically pointed out in a conversation that began with “Are you nuts, Mom?”
He was always a smart kid.
We went to Contadora, where I'm happy to say we didn't run into a single anaconda.
I thought of that trip today when I read this story in the Washington Post about pet-gone-feral pythons and anacondas taking over the Florida Everglades:
(Warning: Accompanying photos are not for the faint of heart.)