On arrival in Quito we experience the rugby scrum that is people reclaiming their luggage. We arrive outside, families line the exit and tour companies hold up signs for their guests. Our name was not there. Fear begins to creep into our minds like rats in a drain. Outside there is still no sign of our tour company. We ask a woman with a walki-talki 'Never heard of them!' she exclaims.
So where exactly did our bank transaction go? After weeks of problems had we inadvertently funded the next heroin run from Colombia?
We decided on a taxi to the Swissotel, on arrival we learned our room was booked, not quite for enough nights, but booked enough for now. We retrieve a 24hr number for our travel company and eventually learn the room will be booked for a further night and all is fine. Our documents for the flight to Galapagos will arrive in due time but no reason was forthcoming for the lack of pickup. I can see Ecuadorian organisation is going to be fun.
We retired, exhausted, for the night after a buffet dinner. The red sun was setting Cotopaxi volcano alight and poking the 100-400 through the narrow opening of the window I tried to get a shot of her at full zoom.

Long awaited visit to paradise

Cotopaxi is glowing in the morning sun. I try a few shots through the window that opens only inches but give up this time in despair, today was a good day for the Cathedral spires!
After a quick brekkie our ride arrived and whisked us off with a couple from New York. We were soon basking in the VIP lounge of Galapagos Airlines our luggage checked in for us. I say VIP but what I mean is - four partition walls, a few kitkats and some orange juice.
Our flight was on time and after a pick up in Guayaquil we were on our way, to Galapagos, and a life long ambition.
We landed on time in Baltra among lava and lizards. We were soon walking past Iguanas, most people having compacts out and at the ready were soon taking shots of what I can only perceive was the top of the poor reptiles head.
The airport is made of sticks and straw, but this means everything is simple and we are soon on a bus...on our way. To a boat launch where we cross to the mainland of Santacruz by boat and then to Puerto Ayora by bus. Our home for the next eight days is waiting for us after a 45 minute ride, the catamaran Athala looks great in the afternoon light.
We reach her via the tenders and the 'soon-to-be-really-annoying' habit of putting on life jackets. We are shown to our rooms, we booked the lower deck to minimise sea sickness (not mine) and had a room with a small balcony. The rooms are not huge but more than copious considering the size of the boat. We soon relaxed with the best shower we had ever encountered and then it was on deck for the introduction.
Soon after we were taken back to land for the trip to the tortoise reserve. The tortoises here are wild and come of their own free will due to man made water holes. I thought it odd however that the fences were not built high enough to allow the tortoises passage, as they are supposed to be, perhaps it is not so natural and wild after all.



But the encounters were something else. Crawling on your belly seems to give the tortoises confidence and they do not retire into their shells afraid. I looked odd I guess but I was oblivious to anyone else, snapping tortoises and finches of every variety.

All too soon we were 'guided' off to the shop and cafe (?) then onto a lava tunnel and back to the boat. The evening meal was fish, fabulous, and all the guests are seated around a huge dining table. Most people retired early after a day of travelling, us included.

Floreana & 'They surely invaded Iraq for the tacky souvenirs and tourist cr*p?'

We arrived sometime in the night at Isla Floreana and at 6am I am up and looking for coffee. Much to his annoyance I beat the cabin boy to the machine and switch it on, then head out to take snaps of Pelicans resting on the tenders and the bouys around us. This place is amazing. All around Boobies are diving, Sealions are barking and pelicans are preening. We have been here less than a day and I feel at home, happy and relaxed. Shame about the coffee.

After breakfast we depart for a wet landing on the beach and are walked up top the 'Post Office'. The barrel is an old tradition from whaling times when passing ships would take the relevant mail back to the their country of origin. Now it is a tourist 'attraction' where each and every person must visit and go through the ritual of the guide dishing out cards (50 cents!) and adding yours to the barrel. No offence but the Americans are lapping it up, writing their post cards and having their pictures taken. I hope to god this is not how the rest of the trip will be spent.



Soon we walked back, after a look at the original habitation of the first settlers, a cave. On the tenders we managed to get close to to a couple of Galapagos Penguins, moving boats not great for shots, and were eventually joined by a Sealion pup...who jumped right onto the boat and barked at us. Magical, and to think we were stood looking at a pile of washed up wood and a barrel.



After a great dinner we are taken to Green Sand Beach where we spot Flamingos feeding in the brine lake. On White Sand Beach we watch as rays and sharks bask in the bay and sally crabs scuttle over the rocks. Our guide, so far unmentioned, is Paulina. She is from the peninsula and shows a great knowledge of the islands plus we are never out of her sight. I feel the islands are well protected with such guidance.
We are accompanied back to the boat by a Sealion and are soon tucking into steaks and prawns.

Española and the smell of poo

We awake to a cloudy morning but I suspect, correctly, that the sun will come out. It did, with a vengeance and we were soon standing on the beach at Gardener Bay, amidst thousands of Sealions. The noise was incredible but so too, and here the photos fail to impress, was the smell for poo in the sun.
We started with a snorkel, at 18°C (64°F) most people wanted a wet suit, being practically cold blooded (or British) I was soon watching Turtles and Sealions from below. The currents are impressively strong and I was happy the boats followed us along the way. Around the rocks I played with Sealions, their curious nature bringing them ever closer, and snook as close as possible to the Boobies and Penguins on the rocks.
The next few hours were all ours. The beach we could walk up, but be weary of the bull Sealions, at our leisure. What to do, what to do. I decided upon the 100-400 on the walk up and the 24-105 on the walk back. But first I must re-capture my bag from the Mocking birds.



The next few hours were unbelievable, if not a little hot in the sun, and the white sands added to the paradise image of the islands. Sealions lay all around, Frigate birds glided above us, Boobies dived into the turquoise water and Mocking birds fight over bags not belonging to them. After a long walk up at our leisure we eventually returned to our landing point for transfer to the ship.



After dinner I notice a huge stain on my shots, even at f5.6, and know immediately than bringing sensor-aid instead of Eclipse was a huge mistake.
Not long after we arrive at Punta Suarez and depart for a dry landing and an evening hike. We are watched from the lighthouse by a Galapagos Hawk and greeted on land by a baby Sealion. What nature of paradise is this? Or what paradise of nature?
Further into the walk we get up close to Masked Boobys, lava gulls and watch tropic birds from a distance. The trails here are well marked and are not to be left under any circumstance (except perhaps when a bull Sealion is sat across it!) for this reason not all wildlife is approachable and I was happy to have brought the 100-400.



On the walk back we encounter Albatross, both airborne and walking, and a young hawk supervised by a parent. The adult hawks are far more weary of people than their offspring, reminding me of the shy Buzzards back in Bavaria.
As usual it is dark by 5pm and after dinner we retire, once more exhausted.

San Christobal, Santa Fè & no sharks

Today I awake at 5am, turn on the coffee machine and head to the upper deck to make friends with a pelican and watch the sunrise over San Christobal. After breakfast we are lucky enough to loose a few hours of our lives in the Interpretation centre. Here we learn pretty much what we already read in the guides, spot another post office (perfect reproduction or spare in case the other is washed away?) and manage to go off on a walk, rather than stay at the centre. We arrange to meet back in town and spend a couple of hours walking trails around the coast. Didn't spot much but was still better than looking at pictures of slaughtered tortoises and people with no teeth.

Before lunch I contemplate the suicidal act of cleaning my sensor without fluid. I have no choice, my shots all show a huge stain on the left, even at f5.6. Using a carefully cut business card and a pec-pad I lightly breath on the sensor from below. Wipe. Again. Wipe. My heart is in my mouth as I take a shot of the bright sky. The stain is still partly there, but no worse than a large piece of dust...success...joy...elation!

After lunch we sit at the bow and watch a small pod of dolphins porpoising infront of the boat as we speed along. Once at Santa Fe, we snorkel a while before wet landing on the island. We spot Sharks and Ray in immense numbers around Barrington Bay and the guide promises me a snorkel if we get back early enough.
On the island we fail to spot land iguanas, the only real reason for visiting but are impressed with the huge cactuses. As I feared it was starting to get dark and too dangerous to swim with sharks. I am gutted.

Seymour, Baltra, Bartholomé & The Ba**ard

Early start at 5.30, I was on deck at 5 am waiting for the bad excuse that is coffee (little did I realise it was the best of the trip), and off to Seymour island. Early start allows the passengers leaving today to get a hike in beforehand. We are soon looking at Frigate birds, their chicks, nests and more Boobies. A Land Iguana tail sticks out from beneath a bush, the closest we get in the wild, and all too soon we are back aboard the ship.


Frigate bird chick

We have a chat with Gogi and ask what we will do as the passengers are shipped off to the airport and others brought back. She converses with the captain and they decide to leave us on a nearby beach for a couple of hours. No worries, this is a populated island so I am sure they have done this a few times before, just like to make us feel special.
Within a few minutes of arriving on the beach we spot a number of Boobiess, Frigates and Pelicans diving. Suddenly they are all around us, I am up to my knees in water hoping I do not get spiked by those long sharp beaks. A feeding frenzy has broken out, Boobies are speeding into the water like greased needles, Pelicans are fighting each other for food and a reef shark has appeared from nowhere.


Blue-footed Booby

In the midst of this madness I was stunned, not knowing where to start or which shot to take, the birds so close the 100x400 unable to focus. I gave up and watched, mesmerised and in my own world. A Grey Heron appeared along the shore and tried to join in the feast, but the Pelicans ruled the shore and Boobies the deeper water.
All of a sudden it was over, the Boobies soared higher and the Frigates followed. A few Pelicans remained and fought for the last morsels, a Sealion swept up the remainder. Amazing.


Magnificent Frigate Bird

We stayed until the tender returned and were aboard the ship to greet the new passengers, and oh my god, the new guide. An American from New York called Lobo, from the moment he boarded I could tell the last four days on board would be nothing compared to the first four.
After introductions and dinner we arrive at Bartholme Island. Most of our passengers have either booked last minute or are travel agents, sent to sample what they sell. We even get to meet our agent, Christian, so this should be good!
Our new guide is as concise as 'War and Peace' and I already dislike the man.
After a snorkel it is getting dark and we head out to the island to see the classic view from the volcanic peak. I have high hopes for a sunset but halfway along the walkway Lobhead starts talking. He covers plants, rocks, lava, birds, the population of China, the depth of the Pacific and even what he weighed when he was born. The sun was creeping down.



At the bottom of the stairway we begin to climb towards the peak and the glorious sunset but horror of horrors there is a passing place and yes, he stopped to do some more talking. After the first paragraph, on some pointless subject I have long since forgotten, I ask to go on ahead. Suddenly he is all feet and running to the peak. On the way up we pass a boat load of Germans who seem to take great pleasure in telling me 'You missed it!'. Fuming by the time we reached the top I tried to salvage what shots I could, but the light was over the horizon and dark lava is not picturesque.

After lunch we arrive at Punta Vincente Rocca, Isla Isabella, but are unable to hike here. Instead we have to make do with snorkelling. On entering the water we are greeted by Penguins and Cormorants, Sealions are around but the mantaray we spotted from the boat is nowhere to be seen.
On arrival in a little cove Seaturtles are stacked from surface to sandy bottom, thousands of them, all lazily chomping on the abundant non-stinging jelly fish here. Swimming here requires some concentration, so thickly distributed are the Turtles. A Stingray wanders slowly along the bottom, no one daring to get too close, and soon most people are back on board the tenders, shrouded in towels.
I am oblivious to the fact that I am completely alone in the water, Lobhead later asked if I was cold blooded, Claudia replied 'No, he's English'. Seemed to be enough of an answer. A lone Sealion has joined me in the cove and keeps getting closer, her whiskers brush my mask and she veers away playfully. I do my best to swirl and dive in the cold water but she is unbelievably agile, not to mention the ever present Turtles which I almost collide with every time I dive. Time and time again she approaches from the front, looks into my eyes, touches her nose to my mask and scoots away.
Suddenly I am aware of the tender, full of shivering, towel-clad passengers. With one last look and dive from my swimming partner I climb back aboard and we are soon drinking hot apple punch. I will never forget the forty or so minutes I spent with that Sealion, shame I didn't have an underwater camera.
As we sail off the late evening light is touching the Ecuador Volcano and despite the incredible swell Lobhead is trying to give us a natural history lesson, on the sun deck, where even the heavy sun beds are sliding around. Somehow I manage to take some last light shots of the crater, god save Image Stabilizers.
Later, as we cross the Equator we drink a cocktail on the bridge and watch the GPS readout reach zero.

Santiago, Rabida & rabbiting on....and on...

The swell passing between Isabella and Santiago was horrendous and just staying in bed was a fight. But sometime in the night we arrive at James Bay, Santiago, and manage a few hours sleep in the calmer waters.
We wet land and follow the trail along the coast, the tuff stone resembling worn sandstone. As it is a coastal trail upon stones and rocks Lobhead completely ignores those who want to be left in peace and I am soon alone patiently watching more shore birds and herons. In the distance I can hear our guide and wonder how much of the greenhouse effect is down to him? Suddenly there was silence, he must have stopped for a breath, and then once more I could hear his NY accent.


Lava Heron

I care not, I am happily snapping away at Yellow Crowned Night and Lava Herons. A single Striated Heron wanders into my viewfinder and soon after I watch Willetts, Tattlers, Oyster Catchers Yellow Warblers, Whimbrels and Plovers. Most of the passengers must think Whimbrels breed like crazy as I can honestly say most of the shore birds he identified as Whimbrels were not.


Willet

Once back to the beach Lobhead sits under a shady tree and allows us to wander some more, but only as far as the rocks or the house above us. Not that he kept a check on where we were, which I found disturbing at the least, hardly the strictly managed natural wonder I was expecting. Near the old house I spotted a young Hawk and sat a while watching. Eventually it flew close by and landed in a short tree, a few shots before departing and then back to the beach and a snorkel.



In the afternoon we arrive at Rabida Island under a bright sun, the red coastline is glowing and begging to be photographed. But Lobhead has other ideas and soon has us snorkelling again. The rocks hold no secrets and I am soon bored. Worst still the sun has disappeared and the glowing rocks are no more.
On the hike the sun is sorely missed and even the huge cactuses are not worth taking against a white-out sky. Later we arrive back at the beach and Lobhead wanders off, mouth always animated, and here I wait. There is a space between cloud and horizon, the sun will arrive, just a question of when Lobhead will get us back on the boat.
Eventually the sun does arrive and just as I am able to take a long shot of the beach another group arrive from behind me, and walk in and along the shot. In a heartbeat I change lenses and go at the basking Sealions instead. Why me!?



For the last night aboard we are given a bit of a glass of fizzy stuff, a speech from Lobhead on how fantastic it was to show us around and 'oh did I mention the gratuity system?'. Only tip he gets from me is 'STOP TALKING!'.

To Baños, oh God another bus

After another crap breakfast we head for the Oriental bus station. To describe this place as a mess would be to give it the highest honours imaginable. People selling food by the road, the usual fried greasy nondescript stuff, men shouting destinations in the street and the overriding smell of piss-soaked-gutter. A lasting memory of an unremarkable town, despite the view to Chimborazzo, which of course is today visible.
The bus soon filled up, it seemed, with parents and their children. The other side of the isle from us a girl, maybe she was eighteen if a day, sat with her four children. The smallest was eleven months old, the next two years, then girls of three and four. The two year old was chewing on an apple, occasionally he spat a mouthful out over the already filthy floor. Despite the greasy, slippery floor the three year old took great pleasure in then picking up and eating the pre-chewed apple pieces. All the children where making themselves known, getting in the way and making as much noise as possible.
I was horrified then, and only a tiny bit relieved, when someone else boarded the bus and demanded that the poor mother leave (with her baby and 3 kids) the seats as they had pre-booked them. There was of course hardly any room for the children as it was, but moving her back to the standard seats would surely be hell for all concerned. Then the father arrived with a few beers and they all moved towards the back of the bus. It would seem here that courtesy comes second to getting the best seats, even if a mother with baby has to struggle. Our seats of course were not much better than those at the back, with no extra space for the children, or we would have given them up.
As we descended to Baños we glimpsed the huge volcano, smoking menacingly through the clouds. We are in another world here, I love it, more western people than anywhere else we have been. It feels safer and is much cleaner than the other towns.
We find a room at the Posada Del Arte, our chosen hotel, which has a great view over the towns waterfall.
We decided on a waterfall tour but it was only an $8 tour and I was mostly disappointed, seeing a couple of nice falls from the wrong side of a very wide and very high gorge is not my idea of idyllic. Power cables are constantly a nuisance and the light was crap too. Further along the gorge we were taken to a point where a cable car can take you across the gorge for a closer look. But looking at the engine driving the car and the cables, which looked sort of corroded, we decided not to risk our lives at the hands of Ecuadorian Health and Safety Legislation (or lack thereof).
At the end of the tour we are taken to the Pailon Del Diablo, a much larger fall. The fall is reachable only by a long walk through the forests but was, I guess, worth a look. Once again we had to cross a rather rickety, decrepit old bridge to get a good view. There was no chance of a good angle from where we were and I did my best from the bridge and from the bar.

On returning to the 'bus' it looked like we had disturbed our guide and the driver, as she hurriedly put her clothes back into order.

We got up early to try and walk to the other side of town, get a view of the volcano, but the hotel doors were locked until after 7am. Eventually we got out and set off for the San Francisco Bridge. I wanted to get a view of the long drop waterfall which exists on the town side. I tried the lower path which takes you, through vegetation, to a small and very old wooden bridge. Eventually we headed to a Mirador above the town.
The view from up there is fabulous, the whole town laid out before you with the towering smoke stack spewing obnoxious grit and ash over the town. Of course in usual style we could no more see the volcano itself than we could fly over the gorge by flapping our arms, but such is life. The ash coming form the volcano is obvious today, the whole town is being covered in a fine ash, even the toffee makers are not kneading their wares on their door frames.



We arrived early for our bus to Latakunga, getting decent seats, the driver was as usually mad but at least the bus was much cleaner than usual.
We arrive in Latakunga and find our way slowly, through the packed streets, with our suitcases to the Estanbull. A small family run venture with a colonial courtyard and friendly owners. The room is basic but as usual, clean.

Today we take a trip to the crater lake and, as usual, it is cloudy and we are both apprehensive about another trip in the clouds. At least we have a 4WD this time, not some beaten up taxi, the hotels owner has obviously made this tourism thing work for him.
After thirty minutes we are in the hills and the fog is already starting to show. Further up the fog becomes much worse, occasionally clearing to let the sun light through and making a few shots possible. At one point we are in a clear patch, the landscape could be that of the Yorkshire Moors or Scotland but for the thatched huts the people here call home. We manage to get the driver to stop now and then so we can take a few pictures.



Eventually, after two hours drive, we arrived at Quilotoa Village and the sun was in full swing! We are up at 3800metres but are no longer affected by the thin air as we were the first few days in Quito. We climbed a short path cut into the soft sand stone earth and arrived at a view which literally took our breath away. Helped by the amazing sky the jagged circumference of the crater was illuminated by the warm sun, the lake itself glowing green where the light broke through the clouds. The scene was finished off with the backdrop of the Andes.



It is very basic here, the whole town is built from a few bricks and the road is nothing more than a track. We do however feel privileged to have come at this time, as behind where we stood on the crater they are building a new hotel. Probably nothing huge, but anything that breaks up the outline of the crater has to be considered and eye sore.



The descent was more spectacular than the ascent, the clouds now racing over the mountain peaks, the sun burning the land. I asked to stop as often as possible, but it was awkward due to the bends (why are the best shots in the worst places?) and the driver seemed to be rushing back. I managed a few shots through the window as the car sped down the hills but would have liked some time with my tripod.
All too soon we are leaving another town, a taxi ride to the bus 'station' and a short wait along the road for our ride. Usual bus ride, usual smells and usual hair pin bends. We are soon in Quito main bus terminal, looking lost as we find a taxi and make our way to the Windsor.

After a crap breakfast in the adjoining café, we head out in search for Columbus Travel, those who organised the Galapagos trip, to see what we could do for the last few dayst. We settle in the end for our last night at the Bellavista Lodge in the cloud forests near Mindo.
We decided on a guide recommended restaurant for lunch and I am soon tucking into the local speciality, guinea pig. Deep fried and breaded it was a little greasy and certainly nothing to write home about. It is generally only eaten on special occasions here, and usually roasted (possibly less greasy that way) but for me it was too fiddly to eat; like rabbit it is mostly bones. I have not added a shot of his little, battered in bread crumbs, face incase children are looking.
We left at around one o'clock to find our bus to Mindo, which we managed easily only to find out that it didn't leave until 3.45. Alternatively we can also take a bus to Los Bancos and get a Camionetta, cost a few dollars, from the road to the town. The added bonus here being that the bus was brand new.
New as it was it did not stop the driver being a complete f*ckwit. Accelerate, decelerate, accelerate, decelerate and so on and so forth. This went on for the entire two hour trip on winding roads. To add to our fun we could watch 'The Ring', Japanese version, in Spanish the whole way.
At the tourist info in Mindo we settle for two night in a cabin at the newly opened Marieposass de Colores (Colourful Butterflies). Cabins are situated around a small lake, which like the jungle, is green.



As I write this now the sun is practically gone and the frogs have started their calling. We are sitting on a boat in the lake drinking a Pilsener, what bliss. There is the occasional humming bird zooming past on its way to the feeders which are situated around the reception and dining area. Once again tranquillity has taken over and the city is far behind.

The cabins are basic but comfy, unfortunately though we had been lied to again. The sign said 'Hot Water!!' all we got was glacial run-off.
We have opted for the $5 waterfall tour, booked at the tourist office, even cheaper than Baños; makes me wonder.
We arrived late at the tourist info only to find out that our $5 tour was in fact just a ticket for the cable car, taking us across the gorge to the waterfall side. How we get to the gorge, 10 kms away, is our problem but conveniently there is a local outside with his Camionetta.
The cable car looked as old at the pick-up we came in, the cables well greased but was that just hiding the rust? Our only consolation in plummeting hundreds of metres to our death would be that the conductor comes with us. If she comes with us then I guess there must be an ounce of safety to it.
To be honest any trepidation was soon quashed as we rushed over the canopy, the views were wonderful and we were all too soon at the other side. The conductor gave us a map and then told us it was rubbish, then left on the cable car.
The map said the biggest fall was forty five minutes away. We reached the fall two hours later, sweating and in need of food. Which we had not brought with us as we were expecting a stroll in the woods. Our water was running short too, oh joy, I hope they have a search party in Mindo.



We are promised hot water on return to the cabin and I soon head for the shower, much needed after the hike. By now of course I should have learnt about Ecuadorians and the TRUTH! So after a cold shower I head out for the frog chorus and a beer once more.

Our ride to Bellavista is mainly winding dirt track but this was, until six years ago, the main Quito road! On arrival we leave our bags at reception and are immediately whisked off on a hike. We didn't see much but it was interesting non the less to stroll through thick undergrowth and discover a hole in my rubber boot (whilst walking down a stream). Then, after an edible dinner, we are shown to our rather large room. Once again however we find there is no hot water but a quick call to reception and a change of gas bottle soon sorts this out. A hot shower at last, bliss.



It has started raining heavily but we head out for a walk anyway in our rubber boots, our Bavarian guide taking us up the road. The camera had to stay in the bag though, the rain varying from heavy to heavier. We did however manage to spot some toucans high up in the branches, sort of black splodges against the sky, woohoo. The guides seem very good at talking, perhaps as there is little to really see here. I swear every time we pass a flower or tree it gets a new name or magically becomes and Orchid.

The morning promised sun, and it came during the 6.30 walk. Our Quitonian guide pointed out some birds, 300 yards away, and the usual host of plants which all look the same and have different names. We came back then for breakfast, which was rather good, despite the coffee, and then we're herded out for another quick walk before our departure to Quito and the flight home. I would love to say this place was spectacular, high in the cloud forests, but the whole place was slighty too old. For this price we were expecting more comfort, more wildlife and better food.

For me the real trip started and ended with the Galapagos Islands, somewhere I have dreamed of since childhood but never thought I would visit so young. It is not impossible to find an affordable cruise, infact for the second half of our week we were joined by budget travellers who had enquired in Quito and got last minute deals. All in all the cruise, the staff, the captain, the travel agent and the vessel were first class. Our travel agent, Christian, was also on the boat for the last four days and our comments should have gone toward making a better cruise. My only complaint, and this is something of a gamble on all the cruises, was our guide for the last four days. Much of your enjoyment depends on the person leading you and that person is usually a freelance guide hired per week - not permanent to the boat (certainly true for the smaller vessels). However Paulina, our first guide, was excellent and we thoroughly enjoyed her quiet, knowledgeable pressence throughout.

For more information about the Galapagos cruise aboard the Athala contact Haugan Cruises/Columbus Travel here : http://www.haugancruises.com/galapagos_islands/index.html