These iguanas were EVERYWHERE. Pretty cool, huh? Mostly, except when they didn't play by the rules that I thought we'd all agreed upon, that they do not, say, jump onto your table or try to climb up your arm to get to your table and scare the living shit out of you and we, in turn, do not turn them into iguana soup. Oh, laugh. You think I'm kidding. I got an Aruba cookbook and there is a recipe for iguana soup. Funny enough, whenever a staff member would walk even near them they'd scamper away guiltily--"Me? I wasn't doing anything! I was just looking! I swear!"--when their backs were turn, they'd spring. About once a day, you'd hear a bloodcurling scream from the outdoor cafe and you knew, they'd jumped on the table again.