The entire city of La Brea sits on one of three bitumen, tar, or ¨pitch¨ lakes in the world.  The other lakes are in California and Venezuala.   We had the opportunity to look at pictures and read a brief history in a small museum near the tour guide stand.   The lake has been used for centuries and was supposedly used to patch leaky ships way back in the day.  The pitch is now used to make roads all over the world, including the autobahn in Germany.

During the tour, our guide walked us in the ¨lake¨, which is solid tar except for occasional patches of sulfur pools.  We are told that people swim in the sulfur pools because the minerals in the water are good for the skin.   Because it was a hot day, we opted out of swimming in warm, sulfuric water and take pictures of the tar ground instead.

The tar ground was most fascinating to us mainly because of its sponginess beneath our shoes.  The beating sun made the tar soft and our shoes sank as we stood in one place for even a few seconds.  Our guide told us that if you stand in one place for long enough, you will sink.  But of course, what goes down, must come up…at least when it comes to tar pits.  She showed us a part of a tree sticking out of the tar that could possibly have been there for centuries.  No one knows.

Apparently, the lake will always rejuvenate itself as the tar continues to flow up from its underground reservoir.  It will never go away, but due to the large amount of mining of tar, the lake is at least 10 feet lower than it would be in its natural condition.  They say if mining stops, the lake will rise again.

Although it was not one of the most visually stunning places we have seen, it provided us with an intriguing geological lesson and a uniquely tactile experience we will not soon forget.

Visits to Caroni only occur as guided tours at 4PM in the evening.  The entire sanctuary is a swamp and the only access is provided by boats run by approved tourism companies.  We arrived 45 minutes early to avoid hitting the after school traffic rush and were rewarded with a personalized tour of the visitor’s center that most tourists don’t actually see.  Needless to say, we were quite excited about what we were to see.

The tour started down a long, pencil-straight canal that was dug to help drain the swamp during the wet season.  This portion took quite some time and our guide was not particularly talkative. A quick discussion about the mangrove trees was quite interesting as they are very strange trees, with roots growing 4 feet or more out of the water. At night, they could be quite eerie we would imagine. During the day, it is safe to say they were fascinating.

As our boat rounded the corner into the swamp, we were greeted by the sight of a few birds, but none of the Scarlet Ibis.  Our guide started to perk up and was beginning to describe the mangrove trees in a bit more detail and some of the wildlife we were seeing.  All quite interesting, but not quite the gem we were looking for.

After about 10 minutes, we heard a shout come out of the boat from behind us.  Our first sighting of a Scarlet Ibis! They are relatively large, maybe the size of a peacock, but airborne. The redness of the birds is nearly indescribable. Against the blue sky they are as vibrant as rubies. Against the green backdrop of the mangrove trees, they are almost magical. Our tour took us deep into the swamp to a large clearing where the scarlet ibises flew over head regularly. The experience was magnified even greater as flocks of up to 10-15 were flying right over our heads. Never would we have thought that bird watching could be so interesting.

Our tour of the swamp ended at sundown, but we were in for one last surprise on our way back towards the boat dock. The setting sun managed to drop behind a gigantic, puffy cloud on the horizon, causing the rays to pour out from behind the cloud in all directions. It was a magnificent sight, and one that reminded us of sunsets we have seen over the corn and soybean fields of Iowa and Nebraska during our younger days. Simply a perfect ending to a perfect tour.

On our jaunt to Lover’s Bay, a sea cove a mile’s walk away from her flat, Marziya stopped to show us mangoes that had fallen from the tree by the side of the road.  These are the ripe ones, she informed us and proceeded to harvest these by picking them up from the ground (surely for our pleasure after dinner later that evening).  They were soft and had a more intense aroma than any since we were in Puerto Rico.  Our  mouths were certainly watering.

Later we came across a tree with little par mangoes.  They are smaller than any we have seen before and again are in a tree beside the road.  This time, none have fallen from the tree.  Just another fauna lesson we supposed.  Next thing we know, Marziya was tossing rocks up into the tree.  Apparently these do not fall when they are ripe.  Of course Ben had to join in on the fun, nothing like throwing rocks!  We finally managed to knock two ripe ones down and we added one to our stack of two mangoes from before.

With both of us wishing we did not have to wait, we look up in surprise to see Marziya had bitten one of the little pars open and was quite happily munching away.  Against our mothers’ good advice, we bit into our own little par and quite enjoyed the soft, sweet flavor.  The big mangoes, we were informed, would have to wait until the end of the walk when they could be washed with ocean water!  I think it is safe to say, the end of the road led to outstanding views and flavor, as well as the need for serious flossing later.