It’s been a long ride, but we are back in England. As promised, The Discreet Traveler returns to our Galápagos adventures.
New name for the blog? Photo courtesy of T. |
We’ve based ourselves in Puerto Ayora, the largest town on Isla Santa Cruz, one of only four inhabited islands in the Galápagos. Our first stop was the helpful tourist information office, which gave us maps and recommended day trips, including other islands. Our second stop was about a twenty-minute walk to the end of the road and the Charles Darwin Research Station.
Opuntia |
There is a tremendous amount of information at the Estacion, as well as research going on. The most popular research as far as the public goes is the tortoise breeding program. Here, they breed island-specific species of the famed giant tortoises, before releasing them back into the wild.
We got to see the tortoises at different stages of development, up to four years. The babies, who are still learning, were so cute—their numbers chalked on their shells!
You may have heard of “Lonesome” George, the tortoise who was discovered on Pinta Island in 1971, decades after his species was believed to be extinct. Many attempts were made to find a Pinta mate for him, or later any mate, but unfortunately Solitario George died childless in 2012, making him the last of his kind.
Thanks to a New York taxidermist, George can still be seen at the Research Station; not sure how I feel about that. The good news is that what George lacked, another Galápagos tortoise made up for. Diego, so called because he was repatriated from the San Diego Zoo, has been so [re]productive that his descendants are now estimated at over 800. I mention this because I am pretty sure that’s how I first heard of the Galápagos Islands. I remember a song about them on Captain Kangaroo, and it wouldn’t have been long after 1975, the year Diego made the news. I remember the show mentioned the “Sandy Eggo” Zoo.
After visiting the station, which is free (in the sense that we’d already paid to enter the national park), we stopped by the Playa de la Estacion. Our first chance to dip our feet in the ocean and get used to the sight of iguanas swimming!
Back in town, we stopped by the patio of what had already become our favourite restaurant, La Garrapata. T. says she could have their avocado and warm shrimp salad every day. I was just glad to see her eating! I didn't realize until later that garrapata means “tick,” as in the bloodsucking bug. I don’t know why these restaurateurs called their place The Tick, but they’re great.
If you don’t feel like eating at La Garrapata, there’s a Charles Binford street where every night they put out tables and everyone tries to lure you into their restaurant. T. was happy to eat there too—couldn’t get enough of encocado de camarones, or shrimp in coconut sauce. It was like old times, eating street food, but could never be as hectic as Hanoi. (Nowhere is.)
I also enjoyed Galápagos coffee, which was one of the few perks of our budget hotel. It’s a treat to have fresh brewed coffee in a part of the world that exports great coffee, but whose own people mostly drink instant. And, when we were around at lunchtime, we took advantage of the main meal, usually a set menu costing a few dollars. One day we had some really good lentil soup and a chaulufan, which is fried rice. This is what you get at a chifa or Ecuadorian Chinese restaurant.
Of all the astounding things about Galápagos, probably the most unique is how accessible the wildlife is. Walking by the fish market or along the dock, you can practically stumble over sea lions (indeed, I saw one phone-preoccupied woman almost do so. Goodness knows what she was looking at, as phone signals and WiFi are elusive at best.)
Why would you look anywhere else? Photo courtesy of T. |
The wildlife is fearless in Galápagos, and that is special. It means that people aren’t here to hurt the animals, but to visit them in their own environment. Sometimes, this peaceable kingdom has almost ridiculous manifestations.
T. had read that one of the great beaches in the world, never mind South America, was at Tortuga Bay. It’s a 3-km walk from town.
I have to say, it was a hot and steamy 3 km! Part of the walk is shaded by vegetation, but that equatorial sun really heats things up. We had sunscreen and hats, of course, but I’m still not sure we were prepared given where we’d come from, and that it’s February. If it hadn’t been for the rashguards we bought in Hawaii, we’d have burned to a crisp! It was worth it, though.
Tortuga Bay, in fact, spoiled us for other beaches. It had some of the softest white sand I’ve ever experienced, and the first beach, strictly for surfers, was captivating just to walk along—because people were outnumbered by iguanas. I even saw one that appeared to be body surfing.
Just friends |
Iguana on my khanga |
We tried to stay in the shade of the mangrove trees when we weren’t swimming, which is what the iguanas do. It was hard to stay out of the water, though, with a crystal clear pool to snorkel in. I’ve seen more colourful fish in other places, but no more concentrated in number—and like the other animals, fish have no fear. They swam right up to me; I’m sure I was nipped once! Fortunately, this was not by one of the little sharks, which are everywhere in Galápagos, and harmless.
Normally I'm very wary of leaving anything on a beach (I lost my watch that way), but I felt perfectly comfortable with this iguana and pelican watching over our stuff. |
At Ningaloo Reef off Western Australia, I remember being a little spooked, and at the same time honoured, to be swimming with a reef shark. Here, there are so many sharks to swim with you just lose track of them. Not to mention the ungainly iguanas. I should mention, these pictures were taken at the dock, where sharks and rays made their appearance as we were just casually walking by.
This is what I mean about accessible. So far we hadn’t paid for any guide, tour, or even taxi (although getting to the Islands in the first place is expensive). I felt like the little girl I saw at Tortuga Bay beach who, admonished by her mother, followed an iguana slowly and at a respectful distance, calling “Señor Iguana!” Would that all adults were as good at giving the animals their space.
The funniest thing that happened here was the first afternoon, when we were on the “terrace” (really just a laundry drying space) of our hotel. We hadn’t yet gotten used to the crabs and iguanas gamboling over the rocks and the pelicans swooping overhead, then plunging into the sea to fish. T. got so excited about photographing one of these birds in flight that she forgot she had a bottle of beer in her hand! Fortunately, it didn’t break, and she only soaked her shirt.
We’ve had enough time in Ecuador, and Galápagos, to adjust to the Ecuadorian way of doing things. At lunchtime it’s too hot to be outside, so we come in and rest during the early hours of the afternoon (shops are closed too). The set menu at lunch consists of soup, a main dish with rice, vegetables, etc., and juice to drink.
We must have been staying near an evangelical church, because on Wednesday night I heard a service singing a tune I recognized as “Sweet Hour Of Prayer.”
We must have been staying near an evangelical church, because on Wednesday night I heard a service singing a tune I recognized as “Sweet Hour Of Prayer.”
Of course, it’s ultimately about the wildlife here. There are many islands in Galápagos, but some of the best sights can be seen without even leaving Isla Santa Cruz. We hired a taxi for the day and rode to the Santa Rosa area, where three popular attractions cluster near each other. Our first stop was Los Gemelos, craters that were formed long ago by magma flows in the earth.
Today Los Gemelos are filled with greenery and, thus, with birds. I’m afraid I’m not very good at identifying birds and it wasn’t a day for us to pick out many different species. Still, it was worth a short walk in the remarkably cooler and cloudier highlands. It didn’t feel like we’d gone much higher than the coast, but my ears told me a different story.
Thence to El Chato, a reserve where native tortoises roam freely in the wild. The guides tell you to take a path that starts through the famous lava tunnels of Santa Cruz. We hadn’t wanted to walk through the tunnels, but it appeared we had no choice.
At El Chato we were practically tripping over the tortoises. It really was amazing. I noticed that when one moved, and then stopped, it emitted a deflating sigh, kind of like that pneumatic sound that a bus lets out. Tortoises are famous for moving slowly, but they can yank their heads back into their shells pretty fast if they want to.
As if we hadn’t been wowed enough by the tortoise reserve, there was just walking along the dock. One night we suddenly saw a big manta—larger and a different colour from the rays we’d seen. Another morning, on our way to the water taxi, I spied a sea turtle. We didn’t manage to get a photograph of the turtle, but it was pretty special to see.
Manta. Photo courtesy of T. |
1 comment:
Tortuga Bay and wondrous wildlife everywhere--what splendor! P & G
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