Hurry up and wait.

The alarm went off at 5am. Yay and boo. It was far too early to be up. Moving slowly we got ready and dragged our stuff down to reception. Marlon had arranged for a junior guide to take us on a quick tour around Santa Cruz. And despite the early hour, Oscar was waiting for us. We dumped our bags behind the reception desk and then headed out to the Charles Darwin Station. We started on foot and then Oscar flagged down a cab and good thing because our bodies were starting to ache from all the abuse over the last 4 days. Horseback riding, bumpy boat rides, mountain biking, and more bumpy boat rides. Oscar asked us for a dollar because he didn’t have any change to pay. But told us he’d pay us back later. A little weird but it had happened to us a few times. The station was empty and at least the sun was now edging it’s way into the sky. We walked through and Oscar did his best to explain something new about the tortoises and iguanas we were looking at however after 4 days of wildlife spotting we’d heard it all before.

What we hadn’t seen was Lonesome George, so named because he was the last tortoise of his species. He was indeed very lonesome looking despite the two females they had in with him. The females were from another species and the hope was that they were close enough that one day George won’t be so lonesome, if you know what I mean. He didn’t seem to be too interested in the chicks and unless someone put on the Barry White soon it looked like he was going to be lonesome forever. Another new sight was the Galapagos land iguanas. The station had two of the last hundred on the islands. Apparently, they were just too tasty for the islanders as well as all the cats, dogs and goats the settlers brought with them. So there was a breeding program in place for them too. The rest of the station was still closed and good thing because our hour was up and to see the rest would take at least a couple more hours. We caught another cab back to the hotel which we paid for again but before we could get our money back Oscar disappeared. Oh well, I guess it was his self-appointed tip.

Now it was time for a quick breakfast and the official goodbye. The boys were up – of course it was breakfast – but the other 3 were not around. Marlon was a little worried but it was actually his fault. Last night he had told the boys 7am and the rest of us 7:30 for breakfast. But he meant a 7:30 departure. The confusion continued when I asked him who was taking us to the airport. He made a bunch of hurried phone calls and then told us we’d be picked up at 8am by a bus. Then it was a quick goodbye to everyone as they headed off for the rest of the tour.

Closer to 8:30 the bus showed up and we joined another group who were heading to the airport on the other side of the island. On the way we stopped at Los Gemelos – twin sinkholes in the mist (photo above). Then it was back on the highway to the Baltra ferry. Now the sun was out and the water was the beautiful azul colour I’d always imagined it was going to be. Of course it was, now that we were leaving. The ferry crossed the channel and we were shuttled onto another bus that dropped us off at the airport. The airport was heaving with tourists and their massive amounts of luggage. The guide took our passports and rushed off to get our boarding passes. Bad news, we’d been bumped to the 12:30 flight. The guide claimed the 10:30 flight was now only going to Quito but I just think we got there too late and the airline had sold our seats. Great that meant we now had to spend an extra two hours at the small airport, two hours when we could have been sleeping.

The 12:30 flight finally arrived at 1 and we boarded for the short but relaxing hop back to Guayaquil. Back at the hostel it felt nice to see some familiar faces – kinda like coming home after a trip. We were later than we planned back that was okay it gave us an excuse to do nothing. Finally, the joys of doing nothing.

Final countdown.

Our last day on the Galapagos. It had been great but all this getting up at dawn and go go go was wearing us down and we were looking forward to heading back to Guayaquil to just chill out. What we weren’t looking forward to was saying goodbye to Beat, Joy and Stacey and heck we’d even miss the boys. They were all staying on for the full 8 day tour. But for us this was the last full day. I don’t know whether if it was because we were near the end but when we woke up despite or hours on the back of a horse, but neither Adrian nor I were achy when we woke up. The only evidence of our ride was a lovely saddle sore on my butt cheek from where the saddle had rubbed during the uncomfortable trotting. Good thing that was it was because we had some hiking to do today.

After breakfast, Marlon led us across the Tintoreras islet. It was home to many sea lions and a huge colony of marine iguanas. While the sea lions often barked their displeasure at us tromping through their areas, the iguanas could have cared less and they were so thick they often completely covered the path. It was difficult to avoid stepping on them but we did our best and none of them dropped their tails in defense. As awesome as all these guys were, they weren’t the reason we were there. The islet was names for the Tintorereas or white-tipped reef sharks. And as we walked further, there were signs warning us not to go swimming in the water. As we got to the water’s edge we could see why. Down below, Marlon pointed out a dozen sharks resting in the shallow water. They looked dead but they weren’t. The water in this area is so rich in oxygen that the sharks can catch some z’s here before heading out in the evening to hunt. In fact that’s the reason that the boats can’t go out on the water after 6pm – too many hunting sharks. Now the boats are probably not allowed out because it would disturb the sharks’ natural lifestyle but I liked to imagine that they were kept in the harbour because they would attack the boats like Jaws. That’s right, my fear of sharks was as strong as ever so I much preferred watching them from dry land.

When we’d had our fill of shark watching we continued walking across the sandy islet and met a small boat which ferried us across the water to the other side for our last snorkeling trip stopping so we could check out some penguins in the rocks. Before we could hop into the shallow water, the ever smiling Marlon got all serious. This was a special place where sea turtles hung out and rested and he instructed us not to hassle the wildlife here. He promised if any of us misbehaved he would end the session early. Gulp. The only thing I could hope was that this meant we’d see something really awesome. I only had one photo left on my disposable camera so I hoped so. And as soon as we plopped into the water we were swimming eye to eye with a giant sea turtle. I snapped the photos and crossed my fingers it would come out (photo above). There were schools of beautiful fishes everywhere often engulfing us and off in the distance even more sea turtles. As I was looking off at them Stacey and Joy suddenly motioned frantically underneath me. I just about jumped out of the water when I noticed the huge shape just a foot underneath me. Joy and Stacey laughed at my reaction. It was a sea turtle that was swimming with me before moving on when I freaked out. But that was okay because just ahead I floated in the midst of four sea turtles just chilling on the bottom. They weren’t doing anything but it was one of the coolest things just hanging out in the middle of them until a family with a screaming kid entered the water nearby and the turtles scattered – sigh, I guess they hadn’t gotten Marlon’s lecture. Marlon let us hang around the area for a lot longer than he was supposed to. But eventually we had to get out of the water and head for lunch.

With full stomachs (even the boys) we headed off west to the wall of tears. It wasn’t much to look at – a 20 foot tall wall of stacked rock. However, the story of the wall was more impressive or depressive. Back in the 20th Century, Isabela Island was actually a prison camp. And to keep the prisoners busy, they were forced to build this wall. There was no point to the wall other than punishment and as a way to thin the prison population – you see, weaker prisoners died under the strain of the exercise while other died when the unstable wall collapsed on them both of which happened regularly. Eventually, the prisoners rioted and in 1958 the prison camp was closed but the wall remained as a reminder. We climbed the stairs to look down on it.

“You can walk out on it,” Marlon suggested shortly after telling us all about the collapses and deaths. Um, no thanks. However, daredevil Joy eagerly jumped out on the wall. As she walked out Marlon warned, “ but don’t go any further because it’s not safe.” Joy quickly made her way back to us. Marlon then tried to convince us to continue to climb up to the top of the 100 stairs to take in the view. I looked around at the misty foggy scenery and decided to stay where I was. And I was glad I did since the others came down out of breath and telling me they’d seen nothing. We hiked back to the van for a stop at the flamingo lagoon. Two flamingos were standing in the shallow water but were either sleeping or hiding from us. We all got lots of pictures of flamingo butts before deciding to head back to the van. As we turned away one stuck his head out – proving that they were definitely hiding from the tourists. But we managed to get a shot before we zoomed off.

Back at the hotel I realized that despite the drizzly overcast weather, there was still enough sun to give my back a little rosy colour during our 1 and half hours of snorkeling. Well all of us, since none of us had bothered with sunscreen. But it was mostly harmless. We changed and grabbed our luggage and then it was time for the part of the day I was least looking forward to – the boat ride to Santa Cruz. After yesterday’s hell on seas, I braced myself for the worst but was pleasantly surprised by the ride. Don’t get me wrong – the sea was still full of 10 -15 foot swells but we appeared to traveling in a better direction. The boat went up and down – sometimes violently but at least we weren’t going left and right and some of us even managed to take a nap. I was happy not be terrified but poor Stacey got a case of the greens. The brave girl did not throw up and we all made it to shore thankful to be on land again. I was doubly happy because that was Adrian and I’s last boat ride, woohoo.

Santa Cruz was much different from the rest of the islands. The harbour was full of giant cruising yachts and the town was full of galleries, restaurants, internet places and all other signs of tourist activity, including lots of tourists. Adrian thought it was great but I hated it. Good thing we were only spending a night here. But it also meant that a lot more eating options and the restaurant that night did not disappoint as we dined on thick seared tuna steaks. Yum. The boys ditched us as soon as dinner was over. But Joy, Stacey and Beat joined Adrian I for goodbye drinks. We all enjoyed fruity girlie girl drinks (well I had a beer) and exchanged emails and contact info. Good people and good fun. They were the main reason we would have wanted to stay. As we were sitting there enjoying our drinks, Adrian shouted in disgust.
“Look at that,” he pointed to a neon lit tourist train that ferried tourists around the town, “in another few years, it’s totally going to be Disney-fied.” Yup, Santa Cruz was incredibly different. We all scoffed at it at first but the third time it went around Joy and I looked at each other.
“Let’s get on next time it comes around.”
“Definitely”
Just as we decided to go for a spin and embrace the tackyness of Santa Cruz, the neon train turned off its lights and headed to the garage. We’d missed our chance. Oh well, it was time to turn in anyhow. It was getting late and Adrian and I had to be up at 5am to squeeze in one last tour before breakfast and our flight to the mainland. Just like the train we were done. Almost.

My kingdom for a horse.

Before our horseback ride up the volcano in Guatemala, it had been about 30 years since I had been on a horse (and for Adrian never). Today would be the second time in 30 years I’d been on a horse and Adrian’s second time. Considering how terrifying it had been back in Guatemala, I wasn’t looking forward to it but this was the tour we had signed up for. Adrian however was giddy with excitement imagining that this time he’d be able to ride cowboy style at full gallop. I was glad one of us was excited. Especially since the horseback ride was going to take up most of the day.

Since we’d be out on the trail, today we were packing lunches. We met Marlon in the hotel kitchen where he laid out a spread of bread, tomato, tuna, cheese and condiments so we could make our own sandwiches. And he even had a little something extra for Stacey.
“I looked for something for you. But this is all I could find.” And with that Marlon handed her a can of corn. It was a nice thought but Joy and I started laughing (nicely) at the obsurdity of it. Stacey accepted the can (a little confused herself) and took it back to her room so we could have it with dinner. Once we had made our lunches, we went for breakfast and then piled into the van that would take us halfway up the mountain.

It was another overcast day. And as on every other island, the higher we got the foggier and rainier it got. When the van finally stopped to let us out we were in thick fog barely able to make out the outlines of the horses waiting for us on the ridge (photo above). The horses looked healthier and stronger than the ones in Guatemala but I was still apprehensive and asked the cowboy in charge for the strongest and nicest horse. It must have been a tall request because I was the last to be assigned and helped up on the horse but it meant I was at the back of the pack. Well until my horse just started off without waiting for the group. We were told that the horses knew the way and not to worry but my horse appeared to be on a mission to get up that mountain and wasn’t it the mood to obey me as I pulled on the reins to try to get him to slow down or stop to keep with the group. But my time at the front was short as the boys put their horse riding experience from the Kibbutz to lead the pack.

Despite my focused horse and fear, the ride was actually enjoyable and a heck of a lot easier than climbing the volcano in Guatemala. Instead of the narrow path of loose rock, this path was wide enough for at least two horses to go up and it was compacted dirt and mud. Just as I was beginning to relax, I call came from behind me in the pack.
“Baby!?!” It was Adrian calling out in a panic.
I tried to stop my horse (fat chance of that) as a message soon passed up through the crowd. Adrian had fallen off his horse. Unable to stop or turn the horse around, I had to rely on reports from the others. He was fine and was back up. He hadn’t so much fallen as just slid off because of a loose saddle. Phew. What a relief.

We had an easy ride for about 30 minutes with us beginners (Stacey, Adrian and I) managing to somewhat control our horses until Marlon told us to stop.
“We get off here and walk,” he said. At first I thought he meant all of us but when Joy tried to dismount, he told her no. It was just me.
“Safety first,” Marlon sort of explained. It wasn’t much of an explanation and I wasn’t happy. Marlon joined me as we then hiked up what was probably the steepest part up the mountain. Of course we were now above the clouds and the sun was hot and Adrian was the one carrying the water bottle. We hiked up the mountain for 45 minutes long passed by the rest of the group and the horses. Marlon tried to be cheery by commenting on the scenery to which I icily replied that I’d rather be walking. The path flattened out where the rest of the group was waiting for us. I was allowed back up on the horse which was a much needed break after the hike up but it didn’t help my now foul mood. And poor Marlon, bore the brunt of my evil eye and pursed lips – although he was such a nice guy that I felt a little bit bad for being so mean.

At the top of the mountain we all dismounted. The mountain was an old volcano and the top was actually the ridge of the collapsed caldera. It must have been a big volcano because the caldera was huge. There was evidence of recent lava flows in caldera but Marlon explained they came from a smaller volcano on the other side which was active and to which we would now hike. Great another hike after I’d already hiked. Since I was still fuming and a little tired, I decided to take my time and lagged behind the group. We walked across the lava fields and Marlon pointed out sulfur deposits and lava tubes and even caves where a bit of green had managed to sprout. Further down the side of the volcano we could see lava flowing but unlike our experience in Guatemala there would be no roasting marshmallows or chickens. Marlon kept us far away from the molten rock but had us feel the heat coming out of cracks in the ground as we headed towards Volcan Chico. We took in the view and then hiked back up to the top where we had our packed lunch under a shady tree.

Marlon told me Adrian and I that we now we would both probably have to walk part of the way down. I was not looking forward to that as we got back up on the horses. The wrangler led my stubborn horse by the reins and when we got to the steepest part Marlon told us to get off but the wrangler told him it was okay, we were fine. I learned that Marlon had thought I’d fallen off of the horse and therefore had me walk at the tricky part. Apparently in the past there had been some bad spills and he didn’t want it to happen again. And I could see why the steep part was rather muddy and the horses slipped a bit but it was still easier than Guatemala. Although we all could have done without the wrangler forcing the horses to trot for the last 30 minutes – at least that’s what our sore butts told us. But overall the ride was nice and I felt a lot better about being on a horse. Adrian was now in love with horses and much like diving was talking about doing it all the time. He even asked how much a horse cost. Oh dear, why can’t he fall in love with the free activities.

We got back to the hotel in mid afternoon which would have left us lots of time to enjoy the long sandy beach except the wind and clouds had picked up. Adrian and I did take our books and rum down to the beach to chill for a couple of hours. It was cold and a bit miserable but after four action packed days it was nice to just do nothing. And that night we celebrated over Stacey's can of corn.

What’s scarier giant swells or eccentric Germans?

It was day 3 and our second early morning and already we were tired. But we pulled ourselves out of bed and joined the others for breakfast after packing up and checking out of the hotel. Today we were heading to our next island in our island hopping tour which made us all happy because it meant we had a couple of hours on the boat to nap. The sea however had other ideas. The waves we’d experienced on our short jaunt yesterday were nothing compared to the swells we hit today. They were between about 15 feet high. Now if those waves had just sent the boat up and down I would have been fine. But unfortunately, they also sent the boat rocking from side to side. This was terrifying. We had been given instructions to not move from our seats so as to not upset the balance and I think that made me paranoid despite it being a big powerful motoring yacht. Every couple of minutes a wave pushed the boat to one side and then another causing a bit more terror to rise in me. And this was supposed to be the good season for boating in the islands!

About an hour into the trip the terror was accompanied by a particular nauseous feeling. I’ve never been sea sick before but the violent motion was starting to get to me. To take my mind off of all the icky feelings, I started doing square and cube roots in my head. 2x2 is 4 x 2 is 8. 3x3 is 9 x 3 is 27 and on and on up to 12 to the power of three. It worked (mostly because I suck at math and actually have to concentrate on anything more than 2 digits) and I survived the entire 2.5 hour ride to Champion and Enderby Islands without throwing up or screaming in fear. Trust me - this was an accomplishment.

The two islands were uninhabited except of course for the abundant bird and sea life. Among the frigates, boobies (tee hee), and other birds I’ve forgotten there were also sea lions lounging on rocks as well as our first sighting of marine iguanas. Marine iguanas? You say. Yup this was our first really weird animal encounters. Unlike the land lizards these guys scavenged for food in the ocean, swimming underwater to munch on algae or seaweed. Now that was something I was really hoping to see but the ones we spotted were either in a food coma or on strike because they only hung out on the rocks just above the crashing waves, the same waves that were still rocking our boat as if it were a tiny dingy.

While we were checking out the iguanas, Marlon handed out the snorkel gear and told us it was time to go in. Willingly getting into the water was the last thing I wanted to do. But it was still more inviting than staying on the rocking boat. Plus there was a chance we’d see the marine iguanas in action so we jumped in. The area we swam to was sheltered but there was a strong current that pushed us along. But it was a worthwhile snorkel with plenty of fish and sea turtles to distract us as well as more playful sea lions who swam around and over us. Show offs. However, the marine iguanas stayed on the rocks. Oh well. And when were all sufficiently blue-lipped it was back on the boat to make landfall on Floreana Island (photo above).

Floreana is one of the four inhabited islands although with only 100 people living on it – it can barely be called inhabited. The guide from our first day had tried to tell us the history of the island involving murder and mystery and pirates but none of us really understood what she had said. Thankfully, Marlon was able to fill in the gaps. But that would have to wait until we visited marine iguanas up close and had lunch at the one restaurant on the island. The food was more of the same, soup and popcorn (Joy, Stacey and Beat were now converted), followed by rice, fish and a small salad. Then it was into the island’s Chiva that took us into the highlands.

Our first stop was another tortoise sanctuary where another species lived. Despite the numerous lessons we’d been given in the differences between the species, without seeing them side by side they just looked like tortoises. But they were still cute and we still took hundreds of shots. But the real attraction on Floreana were the caves and the history of them. Floreana had been a favourite hang out of pirates and they were the first to use the caves as a shelter. Some pirates had stayed on the islands and were joined over the years by a handful of Ecuadorians. But it was the settlers of the 20th century that made Floreana famous. The first were a German couple, the Ritters, who came to this remote place in search of some sort of Eden on earth. They were naturalists and hardcore ones at that – they lived only off what grew on the land and even removed their teeth so they wouldn’t suffer from tooth decay. Totally creepy. The Ritters lived peacefully (albeit weirdly) on the island until they were joined by the Wittmer family. The Wittmers had read about this paradise and thought it would be the perfect place to raise their sick son. What they hadn’t counted on was the eccentricity of the Ritters and the Ritters hadn’t counted on sharing their Eden with anyone else. You’d think with so almost no one else around they all would have made an effort to get along but instead they kept out of each others way with the Wittmers building a home for their family up in the old pirate caves. Marlon took us to them and explained how they used the eroded rock formations nearby to trap animals for food. The accommodations were very, very basic and it was hard to imagine someone choosing to live like this in the 19th Century. But Marlon claimed the Wittmers were very happy and even added a few more kids to their family.

But then story got really weird with the arrival of someone called the Baroness and her two lovers. She was a tyrant, stealing food from the families and using the Wittmers’ and Ritters’ limited drinking water to bathe in. There were rumors of sadist sexual rituals that increased with the arrival of another lover who tried to escape from the Baroness only to be “caught” and then shot while out hunting. He lived and eventually did escape the island but never shared his story. Next to attempt to escape was one of the original two lovers. He hitched a ride with a passing sailor but they were both presumed drowned when their boat was found broken up in the rocks. Now before you go blaming the Baroness for these deaths, she and the other lover soon disappeared and were never found. And the Ritters and Wittmers once again lived in peace. Then of course, the numbers started dwindling once again. Herr Ritter, the lifelong vegetarian died suddenly from eating spoiled chicken. His wife/partner then decided to cut her losses leaving the island to the Wittmers (and a handful of Ecuadorians). Apparently, the courts tried to arrest to the Wittmers or at least investigate them for their involvement in all the deaths and disappearances. But nothing was ever proved. And today the descendents of the Wittmers still live on the island operating the hotel the couple built a few years later. Odd for a family that just wanted to be alone. We never did meet any of the Wittmers and we didn’t eat at their hotel. Good thing too because I wouldn’t want to die of food poisoning.

With story time finished, we headed back to meet the Chiva. Stacey, Joy, Beat, Adrian and I walked ahead in search of the oranges we’d seen growing along the path. Unfortunately, they were bitter oranges. Adrian and I didn’t mind but the rest of the gang spit them out. The Chiva then pulled up and took us back down the mountain to the boat for our 1 hour ride to Isabela Island. The sea appeared to have gotten worse and this time the square roots didn’t work and I spent the entire hour clutching my life vest and hiding in Adrian’s shoulder until we pulled up to the dock. I was the first one off the boat and ran to the end happy to be on solid ground.

I immediately loved Isabela and not just because it meant I was no longer on the boat. The island was the largest but felt just as empty as Floreana. The sea front was a long sandy beach (with surfers and sun even) instead of the rocky shore of the other two islands we’d set foot on. It was chill and laidback with many of the locals walking barefoot through the sandy streets. The streets were named after local birds and animals and had the nicest signage I’d seen in ages. It was pretty without being twee and a big change from scraggly dusty San Cristobal. The change of scenery and the stiff drink Adrian made me from our medicinal rum helped improve my mood after the horrible boat ride. But that evening I wasn’t the only one feeling better – the new restaurant offered vegetarian options for Stacey and seconds and thirds for the boys when they asked. It was just what we needed after the creepy scary day. And for the record, the swells were hands down scarier than the eccentric Germans.

Trying not to tempt fish and faith.

When shopping around for Galpagos tours, the guide books and message boards are full of things to watch out for: get a written itinerary; make sure you have a Grade II guide; and of course, you get what you pay for, especially when it comes to food and accommodations. So far we felt like we’d gotten value for money – after we switched guides that is. However, others in the group weren’t as pleased when it came to the food. And by others, I mean the anti-social lads. While vegetarian Stacey didn’t complain about her food, the three lads were constantly asking for more. Not only did they prefer each other’s company to ours, they preferred to eat, a lot. Over breakfast, we forced the three to give us their names. They were Maier, Gilad and A… um… I’ve forgotten, so let’s call him Aaron. The three young guys from Israel were not impressed with the portions at any of either the restaurant from yesterday or today’s breakfast place and were quite vocal about it. Perhaps the growing boys still had growing boys appetites because the rest of us were quite satisfied with the amount of food. Oh well, you can’t please them all. Although it was early, we were running late. So we quickly ate and then Marlon helped us find an open shop where we could buy disposable waterproof cameras to document today’s fun in the water. But first it was time for fun on the land.

We all piled into a bunch of waiting pick up trucks loaded up with mountain bikes and headed up into the highlands. The trucks went up and up and soon we were in the clouds. Our first stop was supposed to be a crater lake but the clouds were so thick that we had to continue on. Somewhere just above the clouds at the top of what seemed like a mountain. We got out and were each kitted out with a mountain bike and a helmet.

“Now we go down the mountain,” Marlon let us know. But first we all tested out our bikes. Good thing because I had no brakes. Better to find that out now than while hurtling down the mountain going a bazillion miles per hour. There were a couple of bike mechanics in the trucks who quickly adjusted and tightened whatever it was that needed to be tightened and adjusted. And then we were off. The road was muddy and unpaved and for the first 45 minutes we went downhill – fast. Even my newly tightened brakes could only take the speed down from to terrifying to scary. I could feel the mud splashing all the way up my butt and back. This was not going to be pretty. Then the road narrowed and got rougher and hillier. Twice I had to get off the bike and walk up the hill. They weren’t huge but I wasn’t expecting them and hadn’t changed gears quick enough. I finally got the hang off it but had to walk one last time over the highest hill. At the top we gathered and Marlon let us know we only had another 20 minutes to go. It was all downhill and paved. We all pushed off excitedly. The road was awesome – there was no peddling and hardly any need for brakes so we all coasted down at breakneck speeds coming to a stop just outside another interpretation centre. Super cool and super fun. And we were all sad that it was over.

We posed for pictures with our dirty backsides, legs and bikes. Then headed into the centre where Marlon gave us a similar lesson in Darwinian evolution as the first guide had. However, this time we understood what was being said. The reason for the biology lesson was waiting just outside. The centre was also a tortoise refuge and soon we were in the midst of dozens of giant tortoises. We walked around and through the first group in awe of these giant cuties and then another group and another before we were taken to the hatchery (or is it nursery) where we saw hundreds of baby tortoises from the smallest to those almost ready to be released. Super cute. We all took at least a hundred photos of these guys. Like the sea lions on the beach, Marlon promised us more to come. And I was sure by day 6 we’d all be sick of them. But at that moment we couldn’t get enough.

Somehow Marlon convinced us to got our muddy butts back into the pick up trucks and we headed back to the crater lake. The clouds had cleared a bit so at least we could see 20 feet in front of us. So we hiked up the side of the old volcano for a view of the lake or at least an attempt to see the lake. We saw only clouds and fog but a little patience and a good gust of wind later for a brief moment we got a misty view of the lake in the old volcano. We could only see half but it was big and beautiful and reminded me of Apoyo in Nicaragua. And as soon as we all snapped a few shots the clouds came back and the view was gone. But that was okay because after that bike ride and the tortoises we were all starving – especially the boys, of course.

The vans took us back to Puerto Moreno to the same restaurant as the day before for the same meal. This time Joy, Stacey and Beat all joined us in adding the popcorn to the soup. I think they were coming around. And just like before, Stacey got fried rice while we got full meals. But she was a good sport and laughed it off. And of course, the boys tried to finagle more food out of the juice nazi, to no avail. Then it was onto the speed boat. Although we weren’t on a cruise, we would be spending a good deal of time out on the water. Not just to get to the other islands, but also to check out the wildlife in the water and perhaps to try and wash some of the biking mud off of us.

The boat took us out to the open sea and I was suddenly glad we hadn’t sailed to Cartagena from Panama because the open sea was rough. The waves were huge with huge swells helped out by the cold wind that was whipping across the water. Yet we were willingly going snorkeling at a place called Kicker Rock. It was a compressed pile of ash that jutted out of the ocean about five kilometers off shore. It was uninhabited except for the hundreds of thousands of birds that lived and crapped all over it, and the fishes “and other surprises” Marlon told us that lived in the waves that crashed up against it. The sea was even rougher closer to the rock. Actually, Kicker Rock was two huge triangular rocks jutting straight up from the water with a narrow channel that ran between them. Marlon pointed to the dark narrow channel as he handed out the snorkel gear. “This is where we go first. The boat will wait on the other side for us so follow me.” And with that he jumped in the choppy water before I could ask if there were any other options

Without the sun to warm it up, the water looked cold, dangerous and the opposite of inviting. However, we’d paid a lot of money for this action-packed tour so we forced ourselves to jump in. C-c-c-old!!! I, as usual, got the wonky snorkel which wouldn’t stay upright and out of the water. It tried to drown me as much as it was supposed to help me breathe and the big waves didn’t help much either. It wasn’t much fun and I decided to just swim through the channel without dawdling. Marlon led the way pointing out sea turtles, giant rays and hundreds of fish that the lads attempted to swim after. This didn’t make Marlon too happy (first rule of snorkel club: don’t hassle the wildlife) but it only got worse when he suddenly shouted SHARK. Sure enough about 5 metres away from us was a small shark swimming parallel to us. As the boys went diving after it, all I could think was get me out of here. Even after surviving my last shark encounter in Panama, I was still deathly afraid and this time the anxiety was made worse by the wonky snorkel. I couldn’t keep my face under water long enough to keep an eye on it. And had no idea if I was swimming away from or closer to the meat eating reef shark. As soon as that fully registered, panic kicked in. I tucked in the dangly bits of my swimsuit (no need to try and bait the shark with bits of me) and attempted to power swim my way through the channel and back on that boat. Just as I was about to pass Marlon, he gleefully pointed down below us, mistaking my proximity to him for keen interest. This time it wasn’t another shark he was pointing out but an entire school of sharks, at least 20 of them! Although they were about 20 metres down below their silhouettes were still big, Jaws big. I don’t think I’ve ever swum as fast as I did at that moment. Marlon tried to point out rays and turtles but I was no longer interested in anything and passed him as fast as my little legs could carry me finally get through the channel and made sure I was the first person back on the boat.

“You’re not afraid of sharks are you? Marlon tried to joke when we were back on the boat.
“Not afraid. Terrified,” I replied humourlessly.
“Don’t worry. There are no sharks at the next snorkel site,” he promised.

Adrian and the rest of the lads groaned with disappointment as the boat continued on to the next snorkel spot. I was wary of getting back in the water so soon. Marlon traded snorkels with me and told me it would be fine this time. And when we pulled up to the Los Lobos site closer to shore, I realized he wasn’t just blowing smoke. The water was sheltered and much calmer. It was also shallower and, most importantly, less shark-infested. Unfortunately it wasn’t warmer. But I soon forgot about the cold. There were fish and sea turtles everywhere as well as sea lions swimming and playing with all of us. They all moved so fast I could only hope I got pictures of them. It was definitely more my speed and I wished we had stopped here first, maybe then I wouldn’t have been so terrified of the sharks (maybe? Perhaps? Probably not). However, I didn’t spend too long in the water. This time it wasn’t sharks that got me out of the water, it was the water itself. After 5 months of the warm Caribbean, the chilly Humboldt Pacific current was too cold for me. And I wasn’t the only one; both Joy and Stacey had blue lips by the time they were back on board. And by the time we got back to shore, the cold wind had given even the fearless boys a case of hard-core goose bumps.

We stopped back at the hotel for a warm shower and dry clothes before heading out to dinner back at the same restaurant. And yes, once again Stacey had fried rice, although this time they added mushrooms. Unfortunately, she hated mushrooms and once she had picked them out was left with about two tablespoons of rice. But she was soon in good company, both Beat and I cut into our fish only to realize it was raw. We summoned over the cranky waiter and asked for it to be cooked. After 20 minutes we realized it wasn’t coming back. Poor Marlon had to go and request some food for us from the juice (and now fish) nazi. We eventually got our plates by which time the lads were already gone. We spotted them across the street in another café scarfing down a pizza. Joy and Stacey left soon afterwards to find Stacey some food while Adrian, Beat and I stayed behind for a drink before heading to back to the hostel and to bed. We’d brought a bottle of rum with us in anticipation of social evenings but it was going untouched with all these early mornings. Tomorrow was yet another action-packed day. I just hoped it didn’t include any more sharks or else I’d be using that rum for Dutch courage rather than socializing.

The great Galapagos getaway begins.

Thanks to Charles Darwin, the Galapagos Islands are one of those places you mention you might visit and people immediately get all excited for you. Everyone imagines bizarre animals and plants on some remote islands way out in the middle of the ocean. Well, we used to be like and now it was our turn to visit them. Unfortunately, when we forked over the money (or rather our credit card) to pay for our great Galapagos getaway the high price was enough to wipe out the excitement of visiting these truly unique places. And it was kinda hard to get any enthusiasm together when the alarm went off just after stupid o’clock. Instead of excitement we were worried. What if we’d seen better things elsewhere? What if our tour sucks? What if we don’t see anything? We did our best to muster up some enthusiasm as we grabbed our bags (with a last minute check to make sure we had nothing in our carryon like a swiss army knife) and headed to the airport. As the taxi approached the airport, I started to feel a bit happier. I actually love airports – they always signal the beginning of a new adventure and a new place (even if it’s traveling for work). Most people think of them as a pain in the butt however, flying is still kinda decadent to me or maybe I’ve just seen too many old movies or been on too many buses lately. The Guayaquil airport only added to this feeling. It was shiny and new and decadent. There was a smoking lounge where we could hang out – it had oversized leather chairs, newspapers, wifi and lattes. Like flying Porter Airlines in Toronto but with cancer. Any way, it was a nice place to wait particularly since our gate was actually behind some locked doors meaning the waiting area at the gate next door was overflowing with people.

When we were finally let onto the plane (only 30 minutes late) the decadent feeling continued. The flight was just over an hour but we served an early lunch with wine. For free. Huzzah and take that other airlines. The decadence ended once we landed at the tiny airport on San Cristobal Island. The airport was an open-air structure not meant to accommodate a plane full of tourists and all the tour company reps, nor the second plane load that landed five minutes after us. Needless to say it was chaos. Every tourist had to go through not just a passport check but also had to pay the $100US tourist entry fee for landing on the islands which are considered a national park. Then we had to wait for the luggage while police dogs sniffed each piece. No, there wasn’t a huge drug problem in the Galapagos. These dogs were sniffing for any plant or animal life being brought into the park. Since most of the tourists appeared to be on some grand tour and carrying their entire wardrobes with them, the process took a long time. In the meantime I found our rep to let her know we were here. About 30 minutes later, we had our bags and met her and another guy and two other girls who were also on our tour. Our rep shuttled us into two pick up truck cabs and dropped us about three blocks away at our hotel. She gave us our room key and told us all we had 15 minutes to unpack and freshen up before we were to meet back for lunch and the beginning of our adventure. Wow already we were on a tight timeline.

Once we were all in the lobby, our rep lead us through the streets of Puerto Moreno, the main city of (and perhaps the only town on) San Cristobal to a small open air restaurant. Now that we were sitting down it was time for a little meet and greet. The two girls were Joy and Stacey from Edmonton (yay, Canadians) and the guy was Pete from Switzerland. Then it was time for the meat and great, aka lunch. It was a typical Ecuadorian almuerzo of soup followed by rice and fish accompanied by a pitcher of juice and a bowl of popcorn. We dug in and tried our best to break that awkward first meeting silence with more than the slurps and burps of lunch. Joy and Stacey were on a four week backpacking vacation through Peru and Ecuador. Pete was on a big round the world trip too. As we were finishing up, our guide let us know that we would be joined by three other lads sitting at another table. Once we were done, she took all of us down to the sea front in town to meet the town sea lions. They were just lounging on the beach. They were close enough that we could touch them but we weren’t allowed to and in fact when we got too close to them they bark their stinky fish breath at us in warning. Of course, Adrian was the one to discover this when he tried to pet one of the baby sea lions.

With hundreds of photos taken by all of us, it was time to move on to the Interpretation Centre just out of town. Here the rep tried to give us all an introduction to the islands and the animals. Unfortunately her English was as good as my Spanish, which means not good enough, especially for the hour long talk. A quick look around and I realized I wasn’t the only one struggling. Oh boy this did not bode well for another 5 days. Thankfully we eventually moved out into the actual park area. With the exception of the town, the entire island was park. Although that word brings to mind images of verdant forests, San Cristobal was anything but. It reminded me of the Yucatan peninsula – all dry and scraggly and rocky. It wasn’t quite what I was imagining the Galapagos to be like – but I’m not sure what I was expecting anyways, perhaps a bunch of small sandy islands in the ocean instead of these big volcanic islands. But I digress once again.

The guide took us up a rocky hill where we got our next taste of the unique Galapagos flora and fauna – a lava lizard which kinda looked like any other small lizard we’ve seen on out trip, and cacti which looked like cacti. I was not feeling particularly impressed but I was feeling a little breathless. The hill we were climbing was high and this girl is not a climber. But I made it up to Darwin’s Point and only slightly behind the others. And good thing because there was something spectacular waiting up top. The view. We could see 360 degrees – across the island, out to the sea. It was spectacular. Down below we even spotted some of the famous blue footed boobies on the guano covered rocks. And in the water more sea lions. Cool. Now that’s more like it. We walked down the hill to the water’s edge.

“Now we go swimming” the guide said. I’m sure this sounds like a good idea to you. But the sun was going down and it wasn’t exactly super warm. And the water? Well we were in the middle of the Pacific and it didn’t look like it was going to warm us up either. But how could any of us say no to a dip off the Galapagos Islands. We put on our suits and gingerly made our way to the water. I say gingerly, because the under our bare feet were lots of sharp volcanic rocks. And to get into the water we had to jump a two foot gap to a bigger rock sitting in the water where we could make our way into the water which was just as cold as I thought it would be – freezing in fact. Despite Joy’s attempts to convince us it got warmer the longer you were in, it didn’t. good thing the sea lions swimming near by were enough to distract us from the temperature for a little while. However, without any snorkel gear to take it all in, it was just a cold swim in the ocean so I wimped out and decided to head back to land and hopefully into the sun.

Getting out proved to be a bit more difficult. I made it to the first rock but trying to bridge that gap back to shore was a little more difficult with my stubby legs. I had to try all sorts of configurations on how to climb over and up before finding the right way back. Phew. I thought I was going to be stuck there for a very long time. When everyone else was through being an ice cube, we headed to a beach full of sea lions to watch the sun set before heading back to the hotel. There was a guy waiting there for all of us. His name was Marlon and he was our guide for the rest of the week, and fluent English speaker. Yay! He took us through tomorrow’s itinerary (all I remember was the fact that we had to meet at 7:30am) and then we went back to the same restaurant for dinner.

Dinner was a chance to hang out and relax and get to know each other. Since Marlon had just met us all we had to reintroduce ourselves and that’s when I realized that Pete was actually Beat. The three lads were now sitting with us but we never found out their names as they were obviously all friends and kept to themselves. The meal was a bit more relaxed than lunch although the food was exactly the same. Soup and popcorn. Followed by rice, fish and salad. Adrian and I introduced the others to the concept of adding the popcorn to the soup which none of them were too keen on trying except Joy. Like us her first reaction was confusion followed by a “not bad”. She’ll soon be hooked I sure. Dinner was tasty except for Stacey’s. She had to wait an extra 20 minutes for her vegetarian dish which should have been easy (same thing no meat) but was instead some measly portion of fried rice just like at lunch time. Poor girl. Marlon promised to help her get something better the next day. What he couldn’t help us get was more juice and when I asked for some more (in my nicest, most polite Spanish), the waiter/chef/owner took all the glasses away like he was some sort of “juice nazi”. Good thing we had the cheesy video montages playing on the tv to keep us amused. They were the most amazing thing – 30 seconds of every hit of the 80s and no more. Watching it was like watching “Name that Tune” but for retro music lovers with ADD. It would have been fun to hang out longer with the crowd – it seemed like we had a good group of 5, plus the 3 anti-social lads - but we were all too aware of the early morning and big day tomorrow.