I’ve been clearing the final few boxes from our move a year and a half ago. This handwritten account of some memories from Peru was mixed in with a box of books:

“Nov. 26, 2015 Thanksgiving Day

The Sandia Mountains have piles of gray clouds; the sky is gray too. Turkey is in the oven Mark-style. Luke is on his dog chair covered with a Winnie-the-Pooh flannel Xmas sheet. Autumn and Mark are on the TV couch. Stuffing and cranberry/orange sauce are in the frig.

And we’re now one week back from Peru, where I journaled not a single word. If I had, one entry on Nov. 17 would have read, ‘It’s not yet 5:30 a.m. in the jungle & already I’ve scratched the belly of a 400-lb. tapir named Vanessa. “¡Señora, venga! La tapir está aquí,” shouted Horacio, our boat captain, excitedly. (Come, lady, the tapir’s here!)

So at 5:15 a.m. Horacio and I went into the jungle toward the staff quarters and sure enough, Vanessa was snuffling around. We watched her for a few minutes and then I asked, “¿Está amable?” (is she friendly?). Horacio nodded, walked over to her and scratched her head and neck, gently pulling ticks from her.

She stood still and allowed this as I stood 10’ away taking photos. I’ve been ingrained with the directive: NEVER approach, touch or feed a wild animal. Clearly this rule should apply here, right? At that moment, Vanessa looked at Horacio, sat down with a thud, her short legs supporting her front, then flopped over and offered him her belly.

Clearly Vanessa is an exception to that rule, I thought, as I walked over, took photos, knelt down and scratched her belly. Her short fur was coarse and bristly. She enjoyed being scratched but not patted. Her back cloven hoof was drawn in like a dog, and I found a sweet spot on her belly that made her lie back more to better expose her belly. However, no leg kicked into scratching/thumping mode like a dog might do.

I took my leave, wandered toward the dining hall and ran into Gerri and Tish. I told them what happened and offered to lead the pre-6 a.m. tapir walk. We ran into Dave, who joined us. Back to the jungle and here comes Vanessa sans Horacio, right to me with a little high whistle. Such a tiny delicate sound from such an enormous creature. Tish photo’d me, then I photo’d Tish and Dave scratching her. (The next morning, when it was still dark, Vanessa whistled under our thatch-roofed screen tent, inviting me to walk with her.)

After breakfast Alex, our guide, and I were wandering around photographing the emperor tamarind monkeys with big white mustaches.

Vanessa followed me through the jungle whistling and eventually even Alex scratched her head.

Quite a jungle experience and it’s barely 6:30 a.m.’

So many images of Peru are still in my head and in my dreams. I’ll randomly write them down.

COLORS–

Vermilion cock-of-the-rock,

scarlet macaws, blue and orange trogons, plum-throated cotinga (turquoise body). Peruvian women in woven blankets of hot pink, royal blue, red, yellow, black, white.

Llamas and alpacas in tans, whites, browns, blacks, spotted. Houses in many-hued pastels, some with blue doors and window frames. Flowers of every hue; purple, orange, yellow tree blooms; orchids of all colors, hanging from trees; wild begonias; potted flowers.

FOOD–

We encountered no bad food in Peru. Goat, curries, rice, ceviche. (“avoid eating raw fish in a developing country,” but I often do and it’s delicious, plus the lime juice ‘cooks’ it, right?) Fresh fruit–pineapple, cantaloupe, honeydew, watermelon, papaya, mango. Veggies–yucca, papas, asparagus, bell peppers, carrots. Meat–beef, chicken, pork, goat, cuy (guinea pig, spit roasted on a rotating skewer over an open fire, which none of us tried), alpaca. Peruvians use far less sugar than we do–even desserts aren’t very sweet but scrumptious. I got the feeling the cooks made desserts for tourists, not for themselves. The cake the gifted chef at Manu Wildlife Center made for el jefe Dave’s b-day was fabulous–cake, fruit, cajeta (caramel) and nuts. “Feliz Dia David.”

The Chazuta women of San Martin district quit the dangerous trade of coca (cocaine) and started a small business making chocolate–a smoky 73% cacao is FANTASTIC! Wish I’d bought more…

Soups seemed to be a specialty–homemade all–chicken noodle, veggie, cream of asparagus, yummy all. One tiny town sported a panaderia (bread shop), and our guide got a fresh round flat loaf with an embossed bread heart on it. It was part vanilla and part cocoa, we think, and super tasty.

The woman in hot pink sweats deep-frying frybread over an outdoor wood fire stretched the elastic dough like pizza dough, then immersed it into boiling oil.

Her kids brought several 12″ rounds to our group, who were picnicking nearby. I’ve been told, “Be wary of street food in a foreign land.” But it just came out of boiling oil. And it was MUY SABROSA (very tasty)! No one got sick…just sayin’.

In the jungle where it’s 100 degrees and 100% humidity, there is no electricity, cell or wifi. A small generator powers the kitchen, but at 8 p.m. when it’s dark, we go to bed. It’s easier to rise at 4:45 a.m. when you go to bed at 8 p.m.

But no electricity means no freezers. And no freezers mean no helado (ice cream). The chef made us fruit cream gelatin and chocolate pudding and custard, all cool, but we could hear the kitchen staff laughing uproariously in the kitchen, and the word “helado” was interspersed with the laughter (those silly Americans?).

When Gerri and I scouted the Lima airport for our group the night of our 7-hour layover before our wee hours departure, the 2nd floor sported giant, well-illuminated mounds of gourmet helado, plus chocolate store, pastry shops, restaurants, and even a massage/spa/manicure place where Tish and Gerri took showers. Oddly, no one got helado, which was before security. On the other side were lots of shops, but no helado. :-(

TRANSPORTATION–

It took 31 hours to get from Manu Wildlife Center to home. Boat, taxi, boat, bus, plane from Puerto Maldonado to Lima, plane from Lima to Houston, plane from Houston to Albuquerque, cab home (the driver knew our neighbors’ son, who drives for the same cab company).”         — End of ten-year-old handwritten text —

That is all I wrote on pages delicately lined and decorated with flowers and butterflies. Rather than scan them and never read them again, I decided to transcribe them here for the world to view. My twelve fans will be happy for this trip down memory lane, before Mark’s lymphoma diagnosis, before Luke died, before the world became a much less safe and welcoming place.

We didn’t do eBird back then but were able to recreate some lists from photos. We saw more than 300 species of birds, but only 44 appear on this Peru eBird trip report. Click on “Species with Photos” to see the dazzling array of some colorful birds that dwell in Peru.

Butterflies were also stunning, as this blue morpho illustrates.

We hiked with llamas/alpacas at Machu Picchu,

admired mystical ruins, explored food and shops in Lima, rode in a small wooden boat in a storm to view horned screamers and hoatzins, and much more.

Sometimes going back in time to remember adventures with friends rejuvenates one’s soul.

In May 2024 our longtime local friend Dave Mehlman emailed us a link to another Naturalist Journeys trip, this time to Panama in January 2025. He’s not easily excited, but he was waxing practically poetic about the 300 bird species he saw in ten days the last time he led this trip. He also emphasized that the group would stay in one location the entire first week, travelling by small boats to day trips from and back to the eco-lodge. Snorkeling and swimming in the Caribbean were optional afternoon activities. Monkeys and sloths surrounded the cabins, and the local food was renowned.

We explored the link; the trip was limited to ten participants and two people had already signed up. Panama mostly runs west to east, bordered on the west by Costa Rica and on the east by Colombia. The first week would be spent at the Tranquilo Bay Eco-Adventure Lodge  in Bastimentos, Panama, an island 40 minutes (via small motorboats) from the mainland and abutting the Caribbean Sea. A trip extension to the Mount Totumas cloud forest on the northwestern side of Panama near the Pacific Ocean was also available.

Our Albuquerque friend Eileen and we signed up. Then Susan and Paul in Tallahassee agreed to sign up. I invited Sandy and Tim from Chicago (whom we’d met on the Iceland trip), and they signed up. One spot remained. Eventually Dave’s partner Kathleen took it. Thus began our eight-month prep of buying airline tickets, studying birds, making packing lists, arranging for a dogsitter, and more.

Panama City

Our group of five New Mexicans decided to go a few days early to acclimate and hang out together. We flew through Houston to Panama City on January 15, arriving at night. Luckily, our beloved and bilingual el jefe Dave

had pre-arranged a van for us and all of our baggage and equipment. We arrived at the Hotel Radisson-Panama Canal around 9pm, checked in, and met downstairs at TGI Friday’s, which was almost ready to close. Beers and tasty menu items soothed us weary travelers at our outdoor table along the Panama Canal, and multiple purring cats entwined our legs.

We awoke the next morning to birdsong and sunshine. Mark and Dave were already birding the grounds of the hotel, which is adjacent to the Panama Canal. Eileen and I watched birds and boats from the balcony and then ventured outdoors. It was beautiful with flowers and birds, including a squirrel cuckoo, parakeets, and tanagers in the giant banyan tree beside the pool. All 315 species of the birds that we saw in Panama are included in an eBird trip report. Click on “Species with Photos” to view their beautiful faces.

After breakfast at the hotel, the five of us walked along the Panama Canal to the BioMuseo, birding and chatting and admiring the many murals painted on buildings along the way.

One of my favorite photos of the trip was of two black vultures perched beside the canal. They had been nuzzling beaks right before I took this photo.

Mark walked back, but the rest of us toured the BioMuseo, which opened in 2014 and was designed by architect Frank Gehry. This was his first project in Latin America. The exhibits and large screen movie about the natural wonders that make up Panama’s ecosystems fascinated me. Millions of years ago, North and South America were separated by water, but as the land rose, it created a land bridge for species like mammoths and saber-toothed tigers to navigate.

We met for dinner at the Canal House next door to the Radisson. We ate outdoors at picnic tables, ordering via a UPC code that showed the menu, which some of us figured out how to translate into English from Spanish. Fabulous seafood

(crispy tuna, fish in banana leaves, etc.) was enjoyed by all, plus a bucket of local beers.

The next morn we awoke at 5:30am to meet our local guide Octavio Rios, who was leading a half day birding tour to Parque Natural Metropolitano for Dave, Mark, Eileen and me. We found almost fifty species of birds in six hours, many of them lifers for us. We also saw monkeys, sloths and squirrels. It was super hot and humid in the jungle, and we got overheated. A cold shower, walk in the rain to Canal House, an icy passionfruit juice and crispy tuna snack made me feel much better.

Tim arrived from Chicago without Sandy, who hurt her back and couldn’t come. We promised to send her photos and texts so she could armchair travel with us. Susan and Paul arrived soon thereafter. The last couple, Ellyn and Jeff from New York, weren’t arriving until after dinner, so Sugar, the upbeat front desk clerk, drove the eight of us in the hotel van to Bucanero’s, a seafood restaurant beside the Gulf of Panama. Dinner was fun (but unmemorable food) as we all chatted and looked forward to tomorrow’s adventures.

Tranquilo Bay Eco-Adventure Lodge

We left the next day via Air Panama to Bocas del Toro, a small seaside airport. A playful, drug-sniffing shepherd “scanned” (via its powerful nose) all of the luggage on our flight before we could claim it. An orange duffel and little black bag were held back; we don’t know how that story ended.  Then we took vans to two small motorboats, which transported us to Tranquilo Bay Eco-Adventure Lodge located on 200 acres tucked away in a cove of the Caribbean.

Jay, one of the owners, greeted us at the covered wooden dock adorned with life preservers, chairs and coolers. We walked across a boardwalk through tangled mangroves and up a bunch of wooden steps to the communal dining hall high in the trees. A wrap-around veranda, eye level with the jungle canopy, had multiple

feeders for birds, white capuchin monkeys, possums, raccoons, sloths, bats and more. Many Tennessee and prothonotary warblers, plus bananaquits, feasted on fruit.

Jay briefed us about the lodge, then we ate a late lunch of pizza with homemade crust and salad with tomatoes cut into the shapes of butterflies.

We settled into our luxurious cabins with private bathrooms, swung in the hammock on our front porch and toured the grounds.

Later that afternoon local guides Roger Morales and Patricia took us on a tour of the island,

where we saw white-lined bats, a caiman, birds, flowers, and one hot pink dragonfly.

The eco-lodge collects its own rainwater, filters it and distributes it to cabins, kitchens and elsewhere for drinking, cooking and washing. A generator and solar panels provide power. Most food is grown locally and delivered to the island. The cooks are locals, who study the internet for recipe ideas and presentation. They do a fantastic job! Every meal was delicious and presented artistically and lovingly. We had to go to bed early because breakfast was to be at 5:30am the next morn.

After a bounteous breakfast buffet, we headed to the dock for a boat ride to Punta Róbalo. The sun rose as we zoomed to shore, bucking along with the waves.

We birded the road for an hour (55 species) while we waited for our bus, then boarded the bus for the Talamanca Mountains and Continental Divide. A bat falcon, keel-billed toucan,

ornate hawk eagle and many other natural wonders enthralled us, although it was still hot and humid despite being at higher elevations (welcome to the tropics!). We devoured a tasty picnic lunch, then drove back down the mountain, passing a guy on horseback on the edge of the road. He was engrossed in his cell phone as the horse plodded along. We had a choppy ride back since a storm was moving in, but we made it back to the lodge safely. The coolest non-bird sighting that day was a transparent glass-winged butterfly

plus a fabulous orange orchid (Epidendrum fulgens (Orchidiaceae))

along the road.

The next day we took a boat ride to nearby Isla Popa

where we saw mangrove cuckoos, kingfishers, tiny colorful poisonous frogs, and flowers. Then we had free time in the afternoon. Several of us swam and snorkled while oropendolas flew over us, chortling.

Here are a few of my favorite sightings:

The following day–more of the same: boats, birds, swimming, eating. A swell life! This day we had two kinds of toucans, monkeys, sloths and a bat falcon:

Then came a long day of grand adventure. After breakfast at 5:30am, we boated to the mainland and met the double decker pontoon boat.

We puttered to the old Snyder Canal (Soropta Canal) near the San San Pond Sak Wetlands, which is part of the La Amistad UNESCO Biosphere Reserve. This narrow, lovely green canal is lined with tall trees.

Local residents, their wooden boats and banana trees, flowers, monkeys, sloths, lizards, insects, snakes, and birds inhabit the dense shores. We were thrilled to hear and see a three-wattled bellbird along the canal.

Eventually the canal opened out to the Changuinola River where we had lunch beside a herd of grazing goats. Then we walked briefly on the sandy shore of the Caribbean and admired a collared

plover before retracing our voyage back down the canal. The tide was going out so the pontoon boat got stuck on a sandbar near the mainland. After we switched to the small motorboats, a bunch of guys hopped into the water and freed the pontoon boat. Then we had a short ride to Swan Caye (Bird Island),

where boobies and Panama’s only breeding colony of red-billed tropicbirds nest.

When we arrived back at Tranquilo, I was so tired, I almost keeled over on the dock and the shower felt like it was swaying. But the trip was well worth it! Rain started during dinner and continued the next day. Only seven of us went to the mainland and back to Fortuna Reservoir and the Palo Seco Protection Forest. Seeing a white hawk and a jabiru along the road were two highlights.

Our last day at Tranquilo was a day with no boat rides. We wandered the trails, swam, laughed, ate and relaxed. Mark and I had a great moment with a sloth at the canopy tower, and I made a sloth video that I absolutely adore. The video was not made in slow motion; that’s just how slowly a sloth moves! I also had a special moment alone with a blue-headed parrot

that I saw from the canopy tower earlier that morning.

We had a tasty farewell dinner, last checklist meeting, and hung out on the veranda

before heading to our cabins. I particularly like this dragonfly, although I don’t know its species.

Mt. Totumas Bellbird Lodge

Susan, Paul, and Tim left for Panama City, but the remaining seven of us had one last ride in the small motorboats to Bocas del Toro, where a plush, vibrantly colored, velour-upholstered van awaited us. From there we drove four hours across the northern part of Panama to David, then to Volcán where we loaded two four-wheel drive vehicles with us and our luggage for a 40-minute drive up a windy, gravel, jouncy, rutted four-wheel drive road. We arrived in a light rain mist to the Mt. Totumas Bellbird Lodge, a fantastic 400-acre space adjacent to Parque Internacional La Amistad, a GIANT natural wonder spanning Costa Rican and Panamanian mountains.

The area in the Talamanca Mountains is about 6,000′ up in the cloud forest and full of birds,

monkeys, sloths, jaguars, pumas, ocelots and many other species. Hummingbirds swarmed the spacious deck overlooking the cloud forest.

The hillside roared with howler monkeys. A light rain mist (bajareque) fell, creating vibrant double rainbows on several days. Truly heaven on earth.

We stayed in lovely, comfortable rooms inside the lodge, adjacent to the dining hall and kitchen. Fresh ‘grown on site’ coffee greeted us each morning. We hiked the jungle trails and saw many species of birds, monkeys, and flowers.  We were all thrilled to observe FIVE resplendent quetzals, which Susan and I first saw in Costa Rica.

Reinaldo Rodriguez was our local guide at Totumas, but El Jefe Dave was always there.

The last day we got to see a spider monkey family, two adults and two babies calmly surveying us. We spent 15 minutes quietly observing and admiring them high in the trees.  A wonder jar moment…

We wore shorts when we weren’t in the jungle, which made our friends back home jealous. The food and coffee at the lodge were outstanding. Their coffee won a “best of” Panama award recently, so their hand-crafted beans are gaining international recognition.

Reluctantly, we departed the lodge in the wee morning hours, flew from David to Panama City, then to Denver, then home. Panama is a beautiful country full of welcoming people, fabulous wildlife, and spectacular landscapes. We are so grateful that El Jefe encouraged us to have another adventure with him!

During the fall of 2022 an email arrived in my inbox stating that our longtime friend Dave Mehlman had been named “tour guide of the year” for Naturalist Journeys, a small company that specializes in nature tours around the world. “Hmmm,” I said to Mark, “I wonder what other tours Dave is leading?” Iceland in June 2023 was one of Dave’s upcoming trips. In the past Dave had taken his friends, including us, to Ecuador, Guatemala and Peru, but we had never been on a tour with strangers.

I emailed the Iceland trip link to Susan, my best friend of 50 years, and Paul, her husband, in Tallahassee and said, “Iceland, anyone?” A few days later Susan replied, “We’re in!” Susan, Paul, Mark and I had planned our own trip to Belize in 2013. Then Susan and I celebrated our 60th birthdays with a group that went to Costa Rica. Now we looked forward to a new adventure.

Next I sent the Iceland link to John Stewart, Mark’s friend of 60 years who lives in London, England. John’s wife Meg could not go, but John wanted to. I had hoped to fill the entire 10-person tour with our friends, but I wrote Naturalist Journeys and asked if I could proceed with recruiting more travelers. They wrote back, “Merri, please stop, we’re now full.” Oh, well, at least we created a buffer of our besties for the tour.

During the next six months, we bought airline tickets (Icelandair flies nonstop to Keflavik, Iceland from Denver, Seattle, JFK, Chicago and other cities), planned a few extra days ahead of the tour, did research, watched videos about Iceland, and bought some recommended items of clothing. Mark and John decided to stay four days after the tour ended, rent a Jeep and head east toward waterfalls, glaciers, rivers and parks that we would not visit on our tour. Mark reserved two nights at 1×6 Guesthouse in Keflavik, which they loved, and two nights at Holiday Houses near Vik, which they did not love. Mark, Dave, and I planned two nights in Reykjavik at the Hotel Reykjavik Centrum, which was a delightful small hotel close to birding areas, museums, restaurants, pubs, and the harbor.

Mark and I left our little dog with our trusty housesitter Brie and headed to Denver on June 10. We had a four-hour layover, then an eight-hour nonstop flight from Denver to Reykjavik. In the airport, we kept seeing a guy walk by. I said to Mark, “That looks like Gary King (son of our former NM Governor and former Attorney General himself). What are the odds?” Naaaa, it couldn’t be. We boarded the plane and seated behind us were the guy and his wife. “Excuse me,” Mark said, “are you Gary King?” “Why, yes, I am…” What are the odds?! Pretty good, I guess. Such a typical small world New Mexico story. I greeted Gary and Yolanda (we knew each other from campaign trails long ago and Gary was our friend Mary Smith’s boss for years), texted Mary a photo, then settled in for an eight-hour flight.

We arrived at 6am Reykjavik time, midnight our time. Dave’s flight arrived an hour later, so we entered the country, claimed our luggage, withdrew some Krona, the unique currency of Iceland, (we needn’t have done that; American dollars, Visa and Mastercard are widely accepted in Iceland) from the ATM and settled in to wait for Dave. Dave got to us about 7:30am and we boarded our Flybus to the BSI Terminal, a 40-minute ride. There we caught a local shuttle for a short trip to City Hall, Bus Stop 1, about a block from Hotel Reykjavik Centrum, our home for the next two nights. The hotel staff was awesome and let us check in early for a $35 fee. We didn’t want to sleep until that night, so we deposited our luggage in our rooms and met in the lobby to take a walk.

A block away was Tjörnin, a series of three or four ponds with lots of waterfowl and songbirds in the nearby copse. During the first hour, we saw eight life birds (never before seen by us), so we were happy. Unlike Central and South America, which host thousands of bird species, Iceland has only 90 or so regular bird species. Our Iceland Ebird Trip Report contains 78 species, 58 of which were lifers for me. Click on the link to view species with our photos.

Reykjavik is beautiful and very walkable. We walked everywhere–to morning coffee, to various restaurants, to the harbor, to museums, to the murals we admired.

I texted our former neighbor Deirdre a photo of this mural and she texted back, “I follow that artist on Instagram!” (Yes! T-Mobile works in Iceland at no additional charge for unlimited data and texts, at least, on our Magenta plan.) And WiFi in Iceland is underground fiber optics. Speeds there were ten times as fast as our plan with CenturyLink. America could learn a thing or two from Icelanders.

We ate lunch at Mandi’s Middle Eastern restaurant, which was delicious. Then Dave and I napped while Mark blogged. Later we walked to the harbor, saw people clad in swishing nylon coveralls going out in small whale-watching boats, watched numerous families of common eiders with their newly hatched chicks, and got fish and chips at a food truck on the wharf. We ate our delectable meal outdoors even though it was a bit chilly. Then we stopped at Slippbarinn, a pub along the harbor. Although it is light 24/7 in Iceland during June, Mark and I had these Soft Sleep Masks. We were in bed by 8:30pm and slept for thirteen hours.

The next morning we had great coffee (cappuccino with a foam bear!) and pastries at IDA Bokakaffi, Vesturgata 2a, Grófin 101, Reykjavík, a charming shop that is also a bookstore.

Then I revisited Tjörnin and explored Cemetery Holavallagardur, established in 1838, a block from the hotel. “Remember me as you walk by, for as you are, so once was I. And as I am, so you shall be. Prepare yourself to follow me.” If ever there were a cemetery to do justice to this poem, it’s this one, a mystical, tree-filled, moss-covered eternal sanctuary with many old headstones and lots of flowers. The cemetery also hosted dozens of birds and their newly fledged young, like this redwing:

Susan and Paul arrived at the hotel in time for lunch; John was due later that afternoon. All six of us stayed at the Centrum.

We walked to Arctic Street Food for loaves of brown bread hollowed out and filled with lamb stew or seafood stew. A few had Icelandic beer with lunch. A self-described “ginger boy” with red hair and blue eyes served us and was very excited to discover some of us lived in New Mexico. He had lived in Arizona with his family for a while, but returned to Iceland.

We all walked to the Maritime Museum, which Paul and Dave visited. On the way Mark, Dave and I showed our favorite street murals. Then Susan and I went to the Reykjavik  Art Museum while Mark went back to Centrum to journal and wait for John. When John arrived, we all walked back to Slippbarinn for dinner and beers. Afterwards we got gelato near the Centrum and toured the cemetery.

Since Susan and Paul were very tired, we had an early night and reconvened the next day to repeat our coffee/pastry breakfast. We were to meet the rest of our tour group with Daniel Bergmann, our local Icelandic guide and renowned photographer/birder. Someone’s late flight delayed our start, so I took a few folks to Tjörnin.

Candice and Tim from Denver arrived at City Hall, Bus Stop 1, where we were meeting Daniel. On board the van were Daphne from Arizona, Sandy and Tim from Chicago, and Peter and Brenda from Spokane. We headed out of Reykjavik to our first bird stop, Bakkatjörn. Scopes emerged, bird views and “oohs” and “aahs” commenced. We stopped for lunch and landed at Staðarsveit–Ytritunga, complete with shorebirds and harbor seals.

On to Kast Guesthouse located in the quiet countryside of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula. This was home for the next three nights. Our group occupied most of a new wing at one end. Dinner was fish or lamb, soup and vegetarian options. Breakfast was delicious with the best homemade brown seeded bread I’ve ever eaten, a variety of cold cuts, Skyr yogurt, cereal, hard-boiled eggs and other goodies. Plenty of coffee and tea was provided. You can ask for sack lunches.

The next morning we loaded ourselves and day gear onto the van for a drive to Ólafsvík for a whale-watching boat trip with Láki Tours.  One never knows if one will see any whales, but it was worth the risk. We rode a big boat with lots of other tourists besides our group. We all dressed in polypropylene (or some rubbery material) coveralls, which were bulky but helped keep us warm. Presumably we would have floated a while if the ship had capsized (it did not). Orca, humpback, sperm and minke whales were possible in the sea. We saw our first puffin floating on the waves, northern gannets, various gulls, kittiwakes, and murres.

Suddenly the crew spotted the spout of a sperm whale fairly close to our boat. The boat turned sideways and cut its engines. We watched as the whale swam, blew water from its spout, and ultimately dived down into the ocean, its tail flashing farewell. It was so beautiful that I cried and I looked for Susan, who was crying and looking for me. (We also cried when a resplendent quetzal burst from the Monte Verde Cloud Forest in Costa Rica near us.) Sometimes nature’s beauty overwhelms us. We observed three more sperm whales and after about four hours, returned toward the dock. The crew gave a short lecture about different types of whales, their feeding habits, and why we should boycott restaurants that serve whale. Hunting has decimated whale populations.

After lunch we visited Svörtuloft,  cliffs filled with nests of northern fulmars, black-legged kittiwakes, common and thick-billed murres (John, I mean “guillemots”!), and razorbills (aka Brünnich’s guillemots to Europeans).  We studied the different marks on bills, observed the social structure, then  drove through the western region of Snæfellsjökull National Park to return to Kast Guesthouse for dinner. At one point we stopped to watch an Arctic fox wend its way across the mossy rocks on the tundra.

The following day the van departed at 8:30am to tour other parts of the Snæfellsnes Peninsula, including Hraunsfjörður, home to several nesting European golden-plovers. Here my disaster occurred when the van door was shut before I was completely seated, jamming my Canon PowerShot SX50HS camera between the door and my hip.

My camera was unusable early on day three of the tour. While I was in shock, Mark walked up with a Canon PowerShot SX70HS camera belonging to John. John, ever the chivalrous one, said he was too burdened switching among the camera, scope and binocs; that I had helped him choose this camera; that I was the better photographer; and that I should use his camera until I left Iceland. I wept with relief and gratitude. Later our group ate a picnic  lunch in a woodland with Icelandic horses grazing nearby.

We then visited  Daniel’s hometown of Stykkishólmur, Vesturland, where the Norwegian House had an exhibit of Daniel’s phenomenal photographs. He gave me permission to photograph one of his photos and his accompanying book about gyrfalcons shown in the museum.

Daniel is mostly quiet, humble and funny as hell, but he is also an amazing photographer, birder and conservationist. Having a local guide on our tour was a real plus. Daniel knows every cliff, every pond, every bush where a bird, rare or otherwise, might be lurking. It’s because of him that we were in the presence of 78 species, not all of which everyone saw. He also brings a library of books about wildflowers, geology, geysers and other Icelandic treasures in case people have questions or want to learn more. He kept us away from the massive busses and tourist sights and showed gems of his country we would not have known about without him.

Later most of us walked up, up, up a hill to the Lighthouse Súgandisey with a vast view of cruise ships, ocean, and cliffs. We searched for a white-tailed eagle, which is so scarce, we cannot share locations or other details. On the way home, Daniel got a report that a rare king eider had been spotted where we had seen the harbor seals. It was just across the lake from Kast Guesthouse, so right on the way home. Daniel spotted it immediately, and Mark and a few others actually got a photo with its head raised rather than tucked into its back. Wow!!!

We stopped at one more pond with a rare common pochard on the way home when Paul, a nonbirder, asked, “Daniel, are you SURE there isn’t another place to stop between here and Kast to look for birds?” The entire vanful of people erupted into laughter. To the Kast Guesthouse we went (without more stops), tired but happy to be home, eat dinner and go to sleep.

We bid  “bless” to Kast Guesthouse (but not before I took a walk through the farmland and spotted some European golden-plovers in the mist). We headed out in the rainy fog toward Akureyri in the far north of Iceland, stopping at a cascading waterfall on the way. Candice noticed a crashed drone at the bottom of the cliff below the falls. Sometimes karma IS a bitch. We arrived at the Lamb Inn in Akureyri mid-afternoon.  Most of us joined Daniel for a woodsy walk at Kjarnaskógur, a short distance away.

At dinner Johannes, the proprietor/owner of the Lamb Inn, welcomed us at dinner, then left to sing with his choir. He first performed for us a cappella an old folk song in Icelandic. Dinner was delicious and Luna, the main staff person, was a whirlwind–keeping service flowing and problem-solving along the way. Food is locally sourced, and the ice cream was some of the best I’ve ever tasted.

Breakfast was quite the spread; only half of it fit into one photo. The van left at 8:30am to explore the northern coast of Iceland.  Daniel searched the cliffs for rare gyrfalcons, the national bird of Iceland. We observed one from afar.

We stopped at Vestmannsvatn, the only known location of an Arctic loon that has returned there for five seasons. Another pond in the Lake Mývatn Kálfaströnd region revealed barrow‘s goldeneyes, Eurasian green-winged teal, whimbrels and other birds. Here’s John, my camera hero, striding between the lakes.  We spent a lot of time in this area, ending at Laxá í Mývatnssveit, a rushing creek featuring harlequin ducks at close range, long-tailed ducks, wagtails, and barrow’s goldeneyes.

Eventually we headed back toward the Lamb Inn for dinner, stopping for a short visit to Goðafoss,  ‘Waterfall of the Gods’ (or Chieftain) between Akureyri and Lake Mývatn. Iceland’s energy comes from hydroelectric and geothermal plants. For a desert dweller, seeing so much water was a bit daunting. Ultimately, the power and thunder of the water truly astounded me. This was our first stop full of other tourists, but it was worth the crowds.

After breakfast and a stroll around the Lamb Inn (aptly named and a working farm, I believe), we headed to a pond at a hydroelectric plant, then to Daufhylur with dozens of barrow’s goldeneyes, and on to Kaldbakstjarnir, where a rare Eurasian coot dwelt. As Daniel was driving toward a lunch  spot, he saw a pullout on the side of the road. He said, “Let’s stop here. There may be a puffin or two on the cliffs.” We jumped out of the van and saw thousands of puffins and other seabirds. Way to undersell it, Daniel! Puffins were everywhere, in groups, alone, flying, floating on the sea. They seemed to be very social and gentle creatures. We sat at the edge of the cliffs, enthralled, for a half hour, then off we drove to lunch.

On to Vatnajökulsþjóðgarður National Park –Ásbyrgi–we went, where we observed a barrow’s goldeneye displaying in a pond, literally kicking up his heels. Red-necked phalaropes and a Eurasian wren also gave us close-up views. We ended in Kópasker, on the edge of the ocean, with black sand beaches.

Finally, we headed off to the Sel Hótel Mývatn for an elegant dinner, buffet or a la carte. Near the hotel a gyrfalcon perched on a rock right beside the road. I took two shots through the UV-darkened van window before a white wagtail dive-bombed the gyrfalcon and both flew off. What a startlingly sublime gift from the universe! Since we were arriving back at the Lamb Inn late, we hoped to see a short-eared owl but did not.

It was never dark while we were in Iceland, except for one five-mile tunnel, so I don’t know how the birds and other critters know when to eat or sleep. Even when the sun sets at midnight and rises at 2am,  it’s twilight but not dark, which can be disconcerting. In winter the sun rises around 11am  and sets around 4pm. However, due to the darkness, one can observe the northern lights during the winter months. Even if the northern lights were visible in the summer, one couldn’t see them due to the endless light.

We departed from the Lamb Inn around 9am, admired some long-tailed ducks in the lake, then drove east to F35 south. The rest of the day we were “off road” on gravel with wide views of glaciers, tundra, geothermal wonders, and lava. We stopped at Hveravellir for lunch and a beautiful view of snow buntings, but we did not soak in the adjacent geothermal fumaroles . A boardwalk led us past burbling, steaming water and baby geysers. Hveravellir is an active volcanic area in the highlands of Iceland. As we continued south, we viewed two giant glaciers,  Hofsjökull and Langjökull.

Distinguishing clouds from snow can be challenging. The landscapes are vast, desolate, and uninhabited.

Our last stop of the day was Gullfoss, a world-famous falls in the Hvítá river canyon. Hundreds of tourists trudge either to an overlook or beside the falls. Susan and I opted for the closer view where mist drenches humans and our equipment. The roar of the voluminous water is deafening at times, but the majesty is spectacular. Click here to learn about Sigridur Tomasdottir, a female environmentalist who helped make Gullfoss a nature reserve instead of a hydroelectric plant. Sometimes one person CAN make a difference.

We reached the Stracta Hotel in Hella in south Iceland in time for an abundant buffet dinner. This was our home for the last three nights of our tour. The Hella volcano was across the street, dormant but expected to erupt any day. It was long overdue, given its past eruptions schedules.

The next morning, after a bounteous breakfast buffet, we departed early for a ferry ride to Westman Islands to search for more puffins. This was also Sandy’s birthday, so I did a French braid in her hair and gave her my Sirius chocolate mint candy bar. The weather was cold and drizzly as we boarded the gigantic Herjólfur Ferry. Its hull opens to allow vehicles to be driven inside and parked. The ferry is electric and very plush with a coffee bar, restaurant and numerous bathrooms (or water closets, as much of Europe says).  Comfortable seats and bunk beds are inside the ferry, along with giant windows. In better weather one can stand outside and watch Iceland recede and the Westman Islands appear. Seabirds glide by and bob on the waves.

Daniel drove the van out of the ferry’s belly and we climbed onboard. First stop: Puffin Point. Puffins tend to hang around there in the morning and late in the afternoon. Mid-afternoon they fly out to sea to cool off and feed, so plan your visit to the point accordingly. We spent two hours there with puffins, nesting black guillemots, a meadow pipit and sheep grazing on the hillside.

Taking a bad photo of a puffin is difficult; they are so photogenic and cooperative. Several of us have hundreds of photos and are reluctant to delete any of them. The puffin population has declined 70% in the past thirty years. Despite the recent
Smithsonian Magazine article about locals helping baby puffins find the sea, some Westman Island residents hunt them for food in a nod to traditional customs. Some encourage foreign tourists to have a  traditional Icelandic experience by eating puffins. That plus climate change have drastically impacted the puffin population. Enjoy them while you still can, folks. And support conservation organizations that help preserve populations.

Leaving the puffins, we meandered to a spot on Heimaey where thousands of fulmars and other birds were in a frenzy, feeding on chum from the adjacent fish processing facility. We observed a multitude of seabirds there until lunchtime. Clouds rolled in during the afternoon and most puffins had left Puffin Point when we returned on our way back to the ferry. But we got to observe a few fly in and out from the ocean to their nesting sites in the cliff and disappear into burrows surrounded by rocks, sheep and bright green grass. Wildflowers were abundant as well. A quick tour of a tiny medical museum, church and memorial for sailors lost at sea completed our tour of the Westman Islands. We returned to the ferry and the Stracta Hotel for dinner.

Our last full day of the tour, Mark and I declined to get on the van. We were weary of driving places and decided to walk to local spots, eat lunch outdoors, use the saunas/hot tubs at the hotel, and not be in a vehicle at all for one day. It was the solstice after all. We walked to the river about 1/4 mile from the hotel and saw twenty or so common Icelandic  birds. Wildflowers lined the river and the day was sunny and warm.

Iceland weather was unseasonably warm and sunny for most of the two weeks we were there. We had brought wool, rain gear, down puffy coats and other items to keep us warm. We found ourselves wishing for short-sleeved shirts and shorts much of the time. We might have needed the warm and rain gear, but I suppose we lucked out. After the tour ended, Mark and John encountered fog, rain, and cold. So they experienced all the various conditions that Iceland offers in the summer. Shortly after they left Iceland, 5″ of snow fell near where they stayed by Vik. And the following week a volcano on the Reykjanes Peninsula erupted. Be prepared for anything; layers of clothing are essential.

We ate lunch locally and then soaked in the outdoor hot tub. After a few more afternoon walks, our group returned. Mark and I had pre-dinner, a sourdough crust pizza from a food truck, Lava ’47. “The Hawk” was what we ordered, and it was scrumptious. Later we joined our group for our last buffet dinner at the Stracta.

Our final day, we loaded all of our luggage into the van. We drove in a misty rain to the Reykjanes Peninsula and the Garðskagaviti Lighthouse built in 1897. “Something smells fishy” is a well-known saying, perhaps originating at this spot. The fishy smell was overpowering, but we saw lots of seabirds before heading to lunch in Keflavik. After lunch the sun appeared, and Daniel gathered us by an old boat for a group photo to commemorate our tour.

Then off to the airport eight of us headed, leaving Mark, John, Susan, Paul and Dave behind.

To give an idea of where we toured in Iceland, here is a map with points marked:

My trip home was fraught with thunderstorms, delays, downgrades, tornadoes and other obstacles. Seeing the city lights of Albuquerque at 11pm was a bit disorienting after two weeks without darkness. But I adjusted and made it home before midnight (6am Iceland time), petted the little dog, showered and went to bed. Thanks to Daniel, Dave, Mark, Susan, Paul, John, Sandy, Chicago Tim, Candice, Denver Tim, Daphne, Brenda and Peter for a sensational Iceland adventure!

— Finis —

(c) 2023, Merri Rudd, All Rights Reserved