Well aware of Easter Sunday and the recreational deficits and short circuits this might cause in Santa Cruz, we decide to move our trip to Santa Cruz's main attraction, the mariposario (the butterfly gardens) for Sunday, when we know the churches and not the gardens will be full.
We hop in a cab after breakfast and are again astounded by how life works outside the first world, how people here actually plan for what is needed now instead of in the future. The car is fifty shades of rust, but for now, it's only important that the driver makes a living.
Santa Cruz is unique in that the outsider can tell just how little planning was involved when this city was built, and despite a projected growth that is to last for years, that trend seems to continue. There is no sudden warning, no gradual decline of urban civilization, no suburbs when you leave the town - one minute there is a long and wide avenue, the next minute you find yourself driving on a dirt road with tall grass and exotic plants jumping out of the soil everywhere.
It is another ten miles outside of Santa Cruz to the mariposario, mostly on a turf road that would appear challenging to some all terrain vehicles, let alone the station wagon taxi we are driving in. Outside, there are palms and other trees that seem to grow out of the soil at an angle but are as straight as a buzz cut at the crowns, as if a barber had been hired to trim them. Add the dark grey muggy sky above the trees, and you know you're in South America.
When we finally reach the gardens, we can tell we chose the right day. There are many families, but the place is not nearly as packed as it would be on a regular weekend day. There are odd shaped large pools on maybe 50 acres of ground that seem to be divided between water and vegetation, so you don't know at first whether you're visiting the city's municipal pool or the zoo. It turns out it's a little bit of both.
We hike to the mariposario, the large cage like enclosure that features rare butterflies of all of South America. It's a little pitiful when compared to the one we visited in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, two years ago, so it is highly misleading to think the butterflies are the reason people visit the Guembe Butterfly Sanctuary, the actual name of the place. It makes for a small and relatively insignificant portion of the park, really.
Which makes the nearby aviary even more impressive. I have written about the aviary at the San Diego Zoo before and how much I liked to frequent it, but the Santa Cruz aviary in Bolivia clearly puts the one in America's Finest City to shame.
The dome of the aviary in Santa Cruz is much larger and higher and has stairs that takes the visitor up to a vista point above its roofs. On the way up, there are plenty of parrots and other exotic birds to have a chat with until you are treated to the view itself: miles and miles of jungle in one direction, the skyline of Santa Cruz in the other. This was worth visiting the grounds right there, I am thinking. I let the camera roll liberally, happy about the reel I will get to edit once we get back to La Paz.
Our trip ends in a horse carriage that leads us through thick vegetation, with Liebi sitting up front and me in the back, hanging onto the boys for dear life. It is well worth the 20 Bolivianos ( less than three bucks) that we pay to the leader of the carriage.
Later, it's pool time for the kids back at the hotel, although at intervals due to the weather. The town is quiet for the most part, but then again most of the Catholic world is on Easter Sunday.
The rest of the day, tragically, is a wash, as the rains come down hard. I guess that shouldn't come as a surprise in Santa Cruz that has on average a foot more precipitation than La Paz. We'll see if we can still catch a tour of one of the cathedrals tomorrow before we leave for the capital again.
We hop in a cab after breakfast and are again astounded by how life works outside the first world, how people here actually plan for what is needed now instead of in the future. The car is fifty shades of rust, but for now, it's only important that the driver makes a living.
Santa Cruz is unique in that the outsider can tell just how little planning was involved when this city was built, and despite a projected growth that is to last for years, that trend seems to continue. There is no sudden warning, no gradual decline of urban civilization, no suburbs when you leave the town - one minute there is a long and wide avenue, the next minute you find yourself driving on a dirt road with tall grass and exotic plants jumping out of the soil everywhere.
It is another ten miles outside of Santa Cruz to the mariposario, mostly on a turf road that would appear challenging to some all terrain vehicles, let alone the station wagon taxi we are driving in. Outside, there are palms and other trees that seem to grow out of the soil at an angle but are as straight as a buzz cut at the crowns, as if a barber had been hired to trim them. Add the dark grey muggy sky above the trees, and you know you're in South America.
When we finally reach the gardens, we can tell we chose the right day. There are many families, but the place is not nearly as packed as it would be on a regular weekend day. There are odd shaped large pools on maybe 50 acres of ground that seem to be divided between water and vegetation, so you don't know at first whether you're visiting the city's municipal pool or the zoo. It turns out it's a little bit of both.
We hike to the mariposario, the large cage like enclosure that features rare butterflies of all of South America. It's a little pitiful when compared to the one we visited in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, two years ago, so it is highly misleading to think the butterflies are the reason people visit the Guembe Butterfly Sanctuary, the actual name of the place. It makes for a small and relatively insignificant portion of the park, really.
Which makes the nearby aviary even more impressive. I have written about the aviary at the San Diego Zoo before and how much I liked to frequent it, but the Santa Cruz aviary in Bolivia clearly puts the one in America's Finest City to shame.
The dome of the aviary in Santa Cruz is much larger and higher and has stairs that takes the visitor up to a vista point above its roofs. On the way up, there are plenty of parrots and other exotic birds to have a chat with until you are treated to the view itself: miles and miles of jungle in one direction, the skyline of Santa Cruz in the other. This was worth visiting the grounds right there, I am thinking. I let the camera roll liberally, happy about the reel I will get to edit once we get back to La Paz.
Our trip ends in a horse carriage that leads us through thick vegetation, with Liebi sitting up front and me in the back, hanging onto the boys for dear life. It is well worth the 20 Bolivianos ( less than three bucks) that we pay to the leader of the carriage.
Later, it's pool time for the kids back at the hotel, although at intervals due to the weather. The town is quiet for the most part, but then again most of the Catholic world is on Easter Sunday.
The rest of the day, tragically, is a wash, as the rains come down hard. I guess that shouldn't come as a surprise in Santa Cruz that has on average a foot more precipitation than La Paz. We'll see if we can still catch a tour of one of the cathedrals tomorrow before we leave for the capital again.
