There are countless reasons why I love to travel – history, architecture, nature, culture and the list goes on. But there’s another, less common rationale that ranks higher on my list than most typical tourists – critters.
This might be related to a migratory nesting place (such as when we traveled to Iceland and saw the puffins) or something on a smaller scale such as finding a honeybee collecting pollen in a random blossom. And as much as I love the soft, cuddly creatures, I’m also fascinated by the ones many people find unappealing. I’m that weirdo that gets excited when she spots a snake or a spider. What can I say? I’m a tomboy at heart.
When we booked a cruise that included the Honduran port of Roatán on its itinerary (technically an island), my one Must Do was to hang out with the sloths. I have long been enthralled with sloths and their sweet faces and slow-paced lifestyle (and have been pestering Steve about how I neeeeeeeded to interact with one for years now – can’t you just hear him rolling his eyes right now about all my incessant whining?).
As soon as I was able to, I booked an excursion to Daniel Johnson’s Monkey & Sloth Hangout. [The shuttle ride over was less than ideal; when the 6 and 9 year olds had to turn sideways to get on and off the bus, you know it was tight. This body had to do some serious maneuvering (and by maneuvering, I mean squeezing… a LOT of squeezing) to get through the “aisle”, and I use that term loosely (ironic given the non-existent “space” between the seats). I would have done almost anything to get to those sloths, though, and I think the shuttle company knew it!]
A sanctuary for the animals (and birds), the hangout was everything I had hoped from the experience. My one “complaint” was that it didn’t last all day! I could have been there for hours. That being said, we never felt rushed and the staff did their best to ensure that we spent a fair amount of time with the animals.
Although I tell anyone who will listen that “I got to hold a sloth!”, it was more that he held onto me. When interacting with the sloth, the staff have you stand and put your hands together like a sort of sling. They then place the sloth on your hands while it hangs onto you. (They mentioned something about how we were the sloth’s tree and I kept repeating in my head to “be a tree… be a tree…”.) We were told to stand still, but I’ll be honest, I couldn’t help swaying a bit (sort of like one does when holding a baby) but I rationalized it. Trees sway in the breeze, don’t they? Yeah… that’s it. I’m a tree in the wind. So I swayed, we danced, and I was in my glory.
While Sid (Sid the sloth! – I know… I know!) hung onto me, he slowly looked around at everything going on around him and even went nose to nose with me at one point. All the while, I grinned and smiled and teared up and made horrible “I can’t believe this moment is finally happening” faces. Clearly I was there for the experience rather than the Instagram moment, because I guarantee, those photos were not exactly social media worthy. I posted them anyway, goofy expressions and all, because it was a noteworthy moment even if it wasn’t an ideal photographic one. And although Steve was not as keen on this experience as I was, he enjoyed interacting with Sid all the same.
After the sloth encounter, our group removed any extras from our pockets and our persons that weren’t securely attached (purses, necklaces, keys, etc.) because we were headed into the capuchin monkey cage and those suckers are little pickpockets! Nothing was safe from their curiosity and we had heard tales of people being injured (having an earring ripped out) or robbed (who wants their wallet lifted by a teeny, tiny hand?) so it was safest just to remove as many temptations as possible. We did keep our cell phones and cameras but were warned to hang onto them!
We gathered in the large cage while the monkeys jumped from person to person – heads, shoulders, arms, nothing was sacred. They were fascinated by Steve’s tripod and camera and had zero respect for personal boundaries, slipping their hands into pockets to discover the treats the staff had snuck in a moment before.
We ended the experience in the macaw cage where a half-dozen or so of the colorful birds were hanging out. We got to interact with Froot Loop (or maybe it was Skittles… I don’t remember) who sat on our forearm while he (or she) waited for a treat. At one point the treat had been eating but s/he decided to see if my knuckle tasted as good. (I’m sure it didn’t.) Despite the expression on my face, which was one of delighted surprise rather than pain, it didn’t hurt.
For those of you who may be concerned about the animals’ wellbeing, please know that the Hangout is a sanctuary first and foremost. These are creatures that would otherwise likely not make it in the wild for whatever reason, and their health and welfare are top priority. These encounters help fund their care, and despite my personal desire to “hug a sloth”, I would not have participated in anything that endangered them.
Bottom line, if you, like me, have a thing for the furry, scaly, and/or feathered creatures, in general, or sloths, specifically, you may want to add Daniel Johnson’s Hangout in Roatán to your bucket list. It was worth the squishing and wedging it took to get there. I will forever remember my time with Sid fondly (sorry, Steve).
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