Wearing shoes with no traction, I fell down a muddy slope. Two day before I fell right off a cliff. Fortunately I didn’t take the 500-foot plunge, but grabbed on to the edge and was pulled up by Gwyneth and our hike mother, Gladys.

We met a semi-domesticated toucan, who flew off during the day, came home for food and gave ample kisses. Its colors were breathtaking.

Similar to the ancient Tayronas, each Cogi family has two houses – one for women and one for men. Most people spend their days at nearby farms, returning weekends and holidays, although a few stay in town to keep watch.

Some of the soldiers at camp got a kick out of dressing us up in their image. And no one thought twice of handing over their guns to us…

Apparently, there are no women soldiers in the Colombian army, only women in command positions.

Each circle you see was once a house. There are over two hundred circles at Ciudad Perdida, most inaccessible. These here marked the center of town, inhabited by the society’s most important figures, the shaman and the mamo (chief/spiritual leader). Important people’s houses are recognized from having both and entrance and an exit.

Our army friends were quite helpful, particularly in getting Veronica across a rather terrifying rock face.

Behind us are the notorious steps. 1300 of them.

This family is from the Cogi tribe, the most direct descendants of the ancient Tayronas, founders of the Lost City. The little boy was practicing his bow and arrow skills.

Remember to ask permission before photographing. (Can we please practice that in NYC too?)

This was our army escort, compliments of the French Ambassador. Military service in Colombia is obligatory, although apparently little enforced for those in the upper classes. It’s easy to hate an army when you read about it, but not as easy when you meet the kids who fight for it – most of the soldiers we met were 18 and 19.

We were struck by their youthfulness – they spent their night hitting on us, getting high and posing for pictures (they loved being photographed). Fear seemed to permeate the group. There was an abundance of talk about the devil and evil spirits, and one soldier fired his gun at a noise that startled him in the middle of the night. It turned out to be nothing, but easily could have been another soldier or a visitor on their way to the bathroom.

At 18, away from home and in the middle of the jungle, I’d be scared too.