INTRODUCTION
Corrugated by mountains and studded by volcanoes, Central America reaches from Mexico towards South America like a hooked, tentative finger. Its geography – seven piecemeal nations stacked on top of each other in a narrowing isthmus – is in many ways its destiny: a distinct region caught between two larger realities. The archeological term used for the region is Mesoamerica (Middle America), and for millennia it has been just that: the meeting point of the landmasses, plants, animals and people of the giant continents to the north and the south.
This clash of tropical and temperate zones has created a startling, often surreal landscape in which dense, humid rainforests abound with the yelps of oropendola birds and the chattering of monkeys; somewhere inside the forest’s dark mesh, the antediluvian form of the tapir lumbers and the endangered jaguar steals quietly through cobalt shadows. Carpeting the eastern halves of Honduras and Nicaragua are the impenetrable swamp-jungles of Mosquitia, whose curlicued lagoons harbour mirror-surfaced mangroves where shellfish and manatees breed among the gnarled roots. Beaches, coves, cayes and island archipelagos hem the coral-laced coasts, while volcanoes – some active – form a chain of fire that stretches from Guatemala to Costa Rica.
Central America had, until recently, receded in the public consciousness, as the 'news' (read: war and revolution) spotlight moved elsewhere; now, however, it’s experiencing something of a tourism renaissance. Ten or fifteen years ago, visitors to the region largely consisted of the college backpacker contingent and groups on socialist-minded 'education' tours. Since the beginning of the 1990s, though, a wider variety of people, some with little knowledge of or interest in the region’s turbulent past, have come here to experience its startling natural beauty on the back of another kind of revolution – this time in tourism.
Perhaps more than anywhere else in the world, Central America seems to have been designed with the ecotourist in mind. Costa Rica draws nature-lovers by the plane-load with its impressive system of National Parks, while English-speaking Belize, for much of its history a forgotten fragment of the British Empire, has reinvented itself as a prime diving and snorkelling destination, thanks to its offshore national treasury: the second-longest barrier reef in the world. The best place to experience the region’s pre-Conquest culture is Guatemala, which has the strongest indigenous traditions, not to mention a stunning landscape of velvet volcanoes and amethyst lakes. Panamá and Honduras are just waking up to the potential – at least in tourism terms – of their rainforests, rugged mountain cloudforests, mangroves and beaches. Tourists still tend to avoid Nicaragua and El Salvador – a misguided manoeuvre, as neither is more dangerous for visitors than its neighbours, and despite considerable poverty, the people are welcoming and the basic tourist infrastructure good; plus, they too have the volcanoes, beaches and rainforests that draw travellers to their more popular neighbours.
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