tumbes sobstory: the rough guide mentioned a conversation agency that was the sole provider of tours to a mangrove reserve.  the number provided didnt work; googling the agency name got me a number, but when we called that number we got a 21yr old guy who had no idea what we were talking about, claiming to be (presumably, actually being) the university-aged son of the proprietor.  we scheduled a tour with junior, not senior, and got taken to a tourist hellhole that was about as natural as the jersey waterfront, where we were uncomfortably expected to pay an exhorbitant amount for everything, a price scoffed at by friendly locals with whom we ate street-ceviche out of a bucket with.  being a tourist in this country fucking blows, even if you’re an internal tourist!