Galápagos VI - Crack addict...

Lo and behold!  Who should show up the next morning but Andrea, sheepishly standing at our doorstep with a another Galápagos guide.  We were getting ready for a day at Tortuga Bay when this woman, who had previously only existed in mythical form, was there in front of us.  Solid flesh and bone bearing a nervous smile.  I've no idea why she didn't show until the last day - bereavement, drug addiction, bloody lazy - but there she was offering us a trip for the day... to Tortuga Bay.  Too little, too late.  After negotiating a free night in our hotel, we gave her her marching orders and the mysterious Andrea vanished once more into the ether.

Tortuga Bay proved to be as impressive as it had been before.  We headed further along to a sheltered bay lined with mangrove trees.  Here the snorkelling at first proved to be disappointing in the murky waters.  However, swimming further out was rewarded with my first encounter with an eagle ray.  I tried to remember whether it had been this type of fish that had killed the ebullient Steve Irwin.  In my ignorance, I chose to return to shore whilst wondering whether Irwin had it coming after tormenting all those reptiles.

The afternoon was spent at las Grietas (the Cracks).  An old lava tunnel which ran all the way to the sea, the roof of which had long collapsed.  The remaining fissure housed some of the deepest, crystal clear water on the island.  Shoals of huge fish plucked algae from the walls of the 12m deep chasm whilst locals jumped and dived from the rocks 12m above the brackish waters.  Blue Lagoon eat your heart out.  The following day we flew back to mainland Ecuador.  On our way we popped in for a stroll around Los Gemelos, extinct volcanic craters over 200m wide each housing their own personal ecosystems.  The Galápagos Islands had truly lived up to their reputation as a biologist's adventure playground.

Galápagos V - Seymour Skinner...

The final day trip to an island other than our base of Santa Cruz was to North Seymour, a relatively short journey compared to the first two excursions.  This lump of rock possessed a distinct character from the other three.  This is the impressive feature of the Galápagos, the fact that each island is so different from its neighbours.  North Seymour is famed for its friggate birds and blue-footed boobies but these weren't the first animals we would encounter.  As we arrived offshore, three large sharks swam over to check us out.  These oceanic white tipped sharks were at least two metres in length but looked more like three to my wide-open eyes.  At last, the situation suited the type of boats we were aboard and I could finally quiote Brody's wise words, "You're gonna need a bigger boat."

Once ashore, I was again impressed with the guide.  Not only was he knowledgeable and enthusiastic, he even managed to keep the overly-keen paparazzi in check.  In particular one Polish guy whose sole aim was to get that dream shot no matter what delicate flora and fauna he destroyed in the process. 

Once again, we were in a landscape directly from the pages of Arthur Conan Doyle's novel.  Birds were flying everywhere in the sky, mainly the friggates who I've long admired.  Their tactic of bullying other fish into dropping their food has long impressed me - why work so hard when you can get others to do it for you?  Stealing food was not their main activity here, however, being more interested in securing a mate and setting up home.  The friggates silhouette against the azure sky was striking, their sharp-edged wings and swallow tails resembled something like a pteranodon.  In their nests, the males would sit, bright red throats inflated into huge balloons.  Very occasionally one would be lucky enough to attract the attention of a choosy female.  She would descend from her cricling flight for a little slap and tickle atop a thorny tree.  Impressive creatures.

Passing the terrestrial iguanas resting in the midday heat, we searched for blue-footed boobies.  Apart from these animals' blue feet, they didn't really do much to impress me.  And vice versa I suspect.  Nor their red-footed cousins who, the guide informed us, were extremely rare and were only seen about three times a year.  However, only a few moments later the guide almost suffered an anyerism when we saw four in one place at the same time.  Despite his inspiring enthusiasm I was left a little nonplussed at the sight of these modest birds, quietly preening themselves in the trees.  Far more impressive was the bull sea lion on a rocky beach, displaying his prowess in front of his ladies in the surf.

We returned to Puerto Ayora in the vain hope of finding our fictitious tour organiser, Andrea.  With one day left in the Galápagos and no tour to speak of, we had given up hope and decided to arrange a little excursion ourselves.  This with the strong intent of recouping some of the $130 dollars we'd paid for the final day on our return to Quito.

Galápagos IV - Arrested development...

Bartolomé is middle aged in terms of the Galápagos with 2-3 million years under its belt.  This small island was formed when the Earth's crust moved over the Galapágos hotspot.  Well before daybreak we headed there on another Jaws-style vessel, although this time with decidedly less powerful engines.  After two hours on board the island appeared on the horizon.  I've never seen an island that looks more like a volcano that this.  The landscape is totally rust coloured and almost completely barren.  The only plants that live here are hardy xerophytes, like the desert cactus that needs no rainfall whatsoever and completely recycles itself, thereby needing almost no mineral input.  The only animals are crabs and the odd lizard.  A big mammal like me whose body is 70% water would last a couple of days, especially given the fact I'm the sweatiest person within a thousand mile radius.

This volcanic gem isn't actually one volcano.  It is comprised of many parasitic secondary cones which are part of two overlapping volcanoes which together form the nearby Santiago island.  The evidence of volcanic activity is very clear and omnipresent.  There are two main types of rock formation: the smooth lava flows with tunnels; and the far more jagged deposits known as 'Ah Ah', so called as people  make this sound as they walk on it with bare feet.  Despite having had at least two million years of evolution, this landscape showed little evidence of succession.  It lies naked in stark contrast to the rainforest in which plants and animals can colonise denuded areas in a couple of decades.  Nearby, on Santiago, a lava field can be seen which was the result of an eruption in the late 1800s.  This black, bleak expanse of rock was bereft of any vegetation.  It made me appreciate the time needed for the arrival of seeds by wind, water or winged-deposits from above.  Add to this the painfully slow process of soil formation and the time needed for Darwin's theories to play out can be appreciated.

We clambered up the specially made stairway to the summit.  An impressive effort to protect this environment, not a single tourist has to set foot on the island.  From the top the most photographed part of the Galápagos Islands was visible, the view of the rock known as the Pinnacle.  I had to slap myself across the face to check I wasn't dreaming.  This was a landscape straight from the Pixar Animation Studio.  At any moment I expected Godzilla to appear from the surrounding waters and feast on our little group of pesky tourists.  Just to check there were no giant lizard threats, we nipped into the water for a little snorkelling.  The best I've ever had, on a par with the waters around Malta.  After the guide and I were both stung on the lips by jellyfish we returned to the boat for a beer and the ride home.  On the way we were joined by a school of dolphins who decided to show us how pitiful our velocity was.  They swam before the prow of the vessel before veering off jumping out of the water.  Before long all aboard were smiling and laughing.  "It's amazing the power dolphins have over people," someone correctly commented as this grumpy bunch of gringoes had been transformed into delighted children.  Back in Puerto Ayora we asked if the ever-absent Andrea had left us a message but no such luck.  Who was this enigmatic tour rep?

Galápagos III - Animal magic...

The first day long trip to another island, Isabela, would significantly improve my rating of the value for money of the trip.  We set off early to the dock where we boarded a large, fast boast which resembled that used to hunt Jaws.  The journey took four hours at considerable speed, testament to the distances separating these islands.  On arrival we headed to another turtle sanctuary.  It seems each island has its own sub-species of turtle and associated breeding programme.  We were lucky enough to see a randy male chasing a reluctant female around the enclosure before mounting her.  Whilst it would have been great (if a little voyeuristic) to watch them make love, the two hours required to do so was beyond our schedule.  We boarded the all terrain bus and headed on to see a small community of flamingoes which originally came from the Carribean.  The most colourful collection of illegal immigrants I've seen yet.

We were taken by small water taxis to an area of volcanic rock forming a small, low islet off the shore.  This place was teeming with life; marine iguanas in their hundreds, sea lions, Sally Lightfoot crabs, swimming turtles and even sharks.  Walking around it was very impressive.  Given the lack of human contact historically, these creatures have failed to develop a deep fear of people and, as a result, you can get very, very close indeed.  That is probably the most special thing about these islands.  Hopping back on the boats we headed past some penguins to the snorkelling area for a quick swim before heading home.  A long commute but well worth it.  That evening we had expected Andrea to show but no such luck.  There was only a note with information about the next day passed to us by a mystery man who didn't tell us his name and couldn't explain why Andrea hadn't come herself.  We began to doubt her existence.

Galápagos II - Darwin's legacy...

The previous evening, our second guide, Eddie 'Spaghetti', had told us about the day's programme.  The morning was ours to do as we pleased and he recommended a 2km walk through a cactus forest to one of the more famous beaches on Santa Cruz, Tortuga Bay.  The searing heat was intense as we walked along the specially made path path through the otherwise inpentrable collection of flora and volcanic rocks.  The opuntia cacti that grow here are like trees and are often over five metres tall.  Throughout the walk we spotted cactus finches and lizards with bright red heads.  We passed a mixture of surfers and families as we approached the Pacific, with each step the breakers becoming louder.  On reaching end of the trail we were rewarded with one of the most perfect beaches on Earth.

About one kilometre in length and possessing perfect white sand, this beach is picture postcard material.  We stood in awe as the ocean breeze blew the spray onto our faces, mouths agog.  After a short time our attention was caught by dark, shifting  shapes crawling along the sand - marine iguanas.  Incredibly, you could approach these reptiles within just a couple of metres before they upped their sluggish pace and ran off along the beach in search of algae.  After only ten minutes we had to head back down the track through the forest.  Victims once again of our own proclivity for long lie-ins and lengthy breakfasts.

Eddie Spaghetti was not happy.  We'd kept him waiting too long for his liking.  Grumpily, he guided us the half kilometre along the path to the Charles Darwin Research Station.  There he proceeded to reluctantly provide us with information whilst clearly wishing he was somewhere else.  *A note to anyone intending to visit the Galápagos:  Go independently.  We booked a land based trip with an agency (as opposed to a cruise) and many of the activities could be arranged in Puerto Ayora for less money.  Organised trips and guides are only my cup of tea when absolutely necessary.  I'm not sure paying for a local to read out some signs about turtles I could read myself is really the best use of travelling cash.*  The turtles, many of which had been rescued, were being used in a breeding programme.  A long term investment when you consider their lifespan.  Lonesome George lives at this station.  This old turtle is famous because he is the last of his subspecies.  Quite sad to see the process of extinction in action.

That evening we ate at El Chocolate, the restaurant we were obliged to dine at as part of our package.  Eddie promised he'd call the mysterious Andrea as we wanted to discuss the rest of our trip, a little disappointed to have paid about $80 for a two hour walk we could have easily completed ourselves.  He informed us she would come round to our hotel for a chat then he promptly disappeared.  Not his favourite gringoes it would seem.

Galápagos I - Journey to the Lost World

Even the journey to the fabled Galápagos Islands would prove to be spectacular to this geographer on a busman's holiday.  As the plane approached Guayaquil from Quito, it flew low over mile after mile of inundated farmland.  Scenes of flooding like I'd never seen before, all with an eagle-eye view.  Perfect.  The landscape was more of less flat with vast expanses completely covered in water.  Isolated farms and hamlets were left stranded, with the roads that once connected them to society having disappeared completely.  In places, the submerged river channel could be traced in the floodwater.  This was flooding on a biblical scale, the likes of which we just don't see in the UK.

The following leg of the journey was equally impressive.  It began with some of the most stunning vistas of our planet I've ever seen from a plane window.  The perfect expanse of the Pacific Ocean stretched out across a curved horizon.  A chance to appreciate the fact we live on a sphere, an experience which only became possible for the general public during my lifetime.  The deep blue of the ocean blended seamlessly into a bright white horizon before once again darkening into the shades of indigo only visible at the edge of space.  Maybe I'm a little weird, unable to take my gaze away from the window, my nose pressed to it like a kid.  Looking around I see people reading magazines telling them about places they aren't currently in or things to buy that they don't currently have.  Meanwhile, I can't get enough of the present.  Is it possible to be addicted to flying?

As we reached our destination 1,000km west of mainland Ecuador, the Galápagos Islands began to appear.  One by one and far more spaced out than I'd imagined, these famous islands already seemed to possess very different characteristics from one another.  The smaller ones looked lonely and hostile in their isolation.  The bigger islands, large enough to significantly alter the flow of air, had billowing cloud formations above them.  These cloud masses, copying the islands' coastlines almost perfectly, prevented any visual contact with the mysterious interiors of these oceanic oases.  Sandy beaches could be seen dotting the shores with their turquiose waters inviting even the most reluctant swimmer.  I couldn't wait to land.

The airport of the Galápagos Islands was very pleasant... at least it was when it was first constructed by the US military during WWII.  During its construction nearly all the indigenous fauna of the island was wiped out.  It seemed the airport was trying to do the same to its passengers.  Desperately long queues in equatorial heat isn't my idea of fun.  However, it was the Galápagos and, after paying $100 to enter, we were in.  Although we had been expecting Andrea, our elusive contact for the trip, we were met by the first guide of many, Carlos.   

After leaving Baltra island by ferry, Carlos took us to see the giant turtles grazing in the wild at a unique location on Santa Cruz, the main island of our stay.  Being the wet season, our timing was rather fortunate as normally the terrain is too dry for these enormous reptiles.  However, during February there is enough rain to provide a rich source of food and they venture ashore to feed and mate - like a spring break for tortugas. The turtles are astoundingly tame and you can get within four metres before they react to the human presence.  Even then, these gentle beasts simply retract their necks and pull their heads into their carapaces.  This movement causes the expulsion of air from their sizeable lungs with a resulting noise that sounds a bit like they're hissing at you.  As the Galápagos National Park was only established in 1959, no one knows how old these turtles are as they've only been effectively monitored from that time.  It is thought their lifespan can stretch over 180 years, possibly more.  We mulled this over a cup of organic Ecuadorean coffee before heading further along the road to the next spectacle.

Being one of an archipelago of volcanic islands, the landscape on Santa Cruz is dotted with lava tunnels, some modest in size and others large enough to walk through.  Our next stop was a 200m journey underground through one of these tunnels.  They form when runny lava flows along the surface of the island during a gentle eruption.  The outer surface of these flows solidifies leaving the central core a flowing river of molten rock.  As the eruption subsides, the flow diminishes and the lava levels fall leaving a tunnel.  I was reminded of a school project I'd written when only seven years old with the title 'Volcanoes'.  That love of all things volcanic is still alive and well, the journey to the Lost World was proving to be a dream come true.

Terriférico...

With our trip to the Galápagos booked, we had one night and one day to enjoy Quito.  Saturday night was a boozy one, the bars and restaurants too tempting to refuse.  The morning after, surprisingly fresh and with only a few hours to see the city, we decided to ascend a further kilometre using the Teleférico, a cable car to rival its famous cousin clinging to Sugarloaf Mountain in Rio.  

Our luck was in as we reached the upper flanks of the Pichincha volcano at 3,945m with clear skies and views for miles on all sides.  Having climbed so far the temperature was much lower than it was in the city below, the vegetation was different and a brisk wind blew mist down from the hillside.  Strangely, it reminded me of the moors in the UK.  Just like walking in the Pennines or tramping around the Highlands.  Except for the llamas grazing here and there.  I felt very much at home.

The city from that vantage point was a sight to behold.  Hemmed in on two sides by mountains, the it stretched for many kilometres north to south.  The buildings, in a second attempt to mimic the Brazilian hotspot, were like those found in Rio.  Modern tower blocks, often coloured white or pastel shades, all jostling for position in the limited space available.  Beyond the city limits, green fields stretched into the distance slowly giving way to forests then mountains.  We were glad to have chosen Quito as our future home.