Thursday 11 March
Canoa
Just like in Isla Isabella in the Galapagos, there’s no bank in Canoa. Fortunately there is one in San Vincente and that’s not too far away. I asked at Coco Loco for the details of how to get there. Turns out there’s a bus every half an hour to San Vincente, and the cash machine is across the road from where the bus stops. It was a useful trip as I would be taking this route when I went to Montañita in a few days. Thankfully there was a bus right there as I arrived at the main road, it only cost 50 cents and had no problems getting the money out.
I ran out of fly spray today. I had been putting it on regularly but I was still getting bitten, mainly on the ankles and elbows. I decided to see what would happen if I didn’t put any on. Turns out I was bitten exactly the same amount. Most of the time you can feel when you’re getting bitten, and as long as you run the place it will get rid of the fly usually before it’s done too much damage. The worst thing is to ignore it. If they do bite you, then it itches for about 15 minutes and then you hardly notice it. It’s not exactly the worst thing in the world. Looks like I can save myself some money there.
I met the American guys on the beach again and had a pizza for lunch with them. Spent the afternoon hanging out on the beach with them and then did my own thing in the evening. Ended up talking to this Canadian guy who told me about how he watched a Boca Juniors game positioned under the away fans stand, and how they threw seats and even lumps of concrete down on them. He didn’t bother staying past half time. I guess he was sold the sucker foreigner seats.
Monday 29 March 2010
There’s Always the Sun
Wednesday 10 March
Canoa
Finally, here comes the sun. It had been pretty consistently cloudy since the rain on Sunday, but today the cloud cleared and we had some sunshine. I changed hotels today to the one I’d found earlier with wifi in the room. Sweet! Time to start downloading...
I met the Spanish school guys somewhere and hung out with them. The Europeans were cool and had a good chat with them. They were leaving on the midnight express back to Quito so we all said goodbye to them. An American couple that I had met previously were there too (can’t remember when that was, but they were nice people). So I said goodbye to them as well.
We went back to the bar to drink. There was an annoying Argentinean girl who was too in your face and trying to hit badly on one of the American guys. I’ve met a few over-forceful Argentinean women, all outside of Argentina strangely. Maybe they get rid of them. There was an Ecuadorean woman who was hitting on me as well, but she wasn’t that hot unfortunately.
Canoa
Finally, here comes the sun. It had been pretty consistently cloudy since the rain on Sunday, but today the cloud cleared and we had some sunshine. I changed hotels today to the one I’d found earlier with wifi in the room. Sweet! Time to start downloading...
I met the Spanish school guys somewhere and hung out with them. The Europeans were cool and had a good chat with them. They were leaving on the midnight express back to Quito so we all said goodbye to them. An American couple that I had met previously were there too (can’t remember when that was, but they were nice people). So I said goodbye to them as well.
We went back to the bar to drink. There was an annoying Argentinean girl who was too in your face and trying to hit badly on one of the American guys. I’ve met a few over-forceful Argentinean women, all outside of Argentina strangely. Maybe they get rid of them. There was an Ecuadorean woman who was hitting on me as well, but she wasn’t that hot unfortunately.
My Future’s So Bright
Tuesday 9 March
Canoa
Sunglasses never last. It’s rare to have a pair last longer than six months in my experience. On my 2008 trip I had left my sunglasses at home by mistake, so bought some new ones in Bangkok. They lasted until Goa, where as I was climbing some wooden steps to a hut, the stairs collapsed and as I put my hand out to stop myself falling, I crushed the glasses that were in my hand.
However the glasses that I had before then – the ones I left at home – lasted my longer. I used them during the summer of 2009 and on all my (short) trips that year, including the trip to Singapore and the surrounding area. I lost one of the rubber coverings on the side in the shopping centre under the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur. I nearly lost the other one on the flight from Galapagos to Quito but someone picked it up for me.
But today I lost all of it. In fact it was yesterday – when I woke up I realised they weren’t in the room. I went to all the places I had been the previous day but no one had them. But they had had a good innings. Something like two years. But now I bought a new pair. At $5 they were pretty good value, and proper retro wrap around with multicoloured reflective glass. You guys are all jealous.
The American girls left today so I said goodbye to them. In the evening I met a group of people who had been doing a Spanish course in Quito and who had come to Canoa after it had finished. There was three American guys from Buffallo, a girl from San Francisco, a girl from Ealing, and a Dutch guy and an Austrian guy. They were all pretty cool so I hung out with them. I can’t remember how the night ended but I pretty sure I went to bed.
Canoa
Sunglasses never last. It’s rare to have a pair last longer than six months in my experience. On my 2008 trip I had left my sunglasses at home by mistake, so bought some new ones in Bangkok. They lasted until Goa, where as I was climbing some wooden steps to a hut, the stairs collapsed and as I put my hand out to stop myself falling, I crushed the glasses that were in my hand.
However the glasses that I had before then – the ones I left at home – lasted my longer. I used them during the summer of 2009 and on all my (short) trips that year, including the trip to Singapore and the surrounding area. I lost one of the rubber coverings on the side in the shopping centre under the Petronas Towers in Kuala Lumpur. I nearly lost the other one on the flight from Galapagos to Quito but someone picked it up for me.
But today I lost all of it. In fact it was yesterday – when I woke up I realised they weren’t in the room. I went to all the places I had been the previous day but no one had them. But they had had a good innings. Something like two years. But now I bought a new pair. At $5 they were pretty good value, and proper retro wrap around with multicoloured reflective glass. You guys are all jealous.
The American girls left today so I said goodbye to them. In the evening I met a group of people who had been doing a Spanish course in Quito and who had come to Canoa after it had finished. There was three American guys from Buffallo, a girl from San Francisco, a girl from Ealing, and a Dutch guy and an Austrian guy. They were all pretty cool so I hung out with them. I can’t remember how the night ended but I pretty sure I went to bed.
Sunday 28 March 2010
Waiting for the Sun
Monday 8 March
Canoa
I’ve booked in my current place for three nights so I have the chance to look at other hotels and work out which one I like the most. I settle on one called Coco Loco because it has a winning combination of English-speaking staff, relative cheap price, a fan in the room, spiral wooden staircases, and the clincher – free wifi throughout.
I bump into the American girls who are having a late breakfast and early lunch and join them for a drink. It’s cloudy again today – El Niño is having his way again I suspect – so I take it easy, check the internet and stuff like that.
I meet up with the girls again in the evening and have dinner and happy hour cocktails. Followed by more drinks. The local surfer dudes turn up again and once again try to get in with the American girls. You have to give them points for persistence. They don’t get anywhere again.
Canoa
I’ve booked in my current place for three nights so I have the chance to look at other hotels and work out which one I like the most. I settle on one called Coco Loco because it has a winning combination of English-speaking staff, relative cheap price, a fan in the room, spiral wooden staircases, and the clincher – free wifi throughout.
I bump into the American girls who are having a late breakfast and early lunch and join them for a drink. It’s cloudy again today – El Niño is having his way again I suspect – so I take it easy, check the internet and stuff like that.
I meet up with the girls again in the evening and have dinner and happy hour cocktails. Followed by more drinks. The local surfer dudes turn up again and once again try to get in with the American girls. You have to give them points for persistence. They don’t get anywhere again.
Avalanche
Sunday 7 March
Quito – San Vincente – Canoa
I wake up. It’s dark still. The bus has stopped. I’m not sure what’s going on. I can’t get back to sleep.
2.00 am
I go for a piss. There are many other buses and lorries parked alongside us. Something’s going on.
3.00 am
I ask someone what’s happening. I’m sure he uses a word like “lavina” which is German for avalanche. Which is strange given that he was speaking Spanish. I guess that there’s been an avalanche that is blocking the road. His hand movements seemed to suggest it too.
4.00 am
I buy a beer from a random roadside shack that happens to be open. I smoke a cigarette, listen to my binaural beats tape and manage to fall asleep again.
6.00 am the bus starts moving. It’s light now and I see that there has been a fairly large mud slide that had covered the road, and a digger has managed to clear a single lane through it. There’s a big queue on the other side. It has been raining heavily, and it’s still spitting it down outside.
9.00 am we arrive in San Vincente. I get off the bus and try to find the bus to Canoa. I get to where I understand is the stall for the company that has the bus that goes there. The guy behind the desk is a big, fat, waste of space that looks like Jabba the Hutt. He doesn’t tell me much, and it seems he could really give a shit either way. I stand there for about 15 minutes feeling bored and being lazily attacked by flies. I notice that there are loads of tuk-tuks going past, so rather than continue to be bored I decide to take one. I get to Canoa for $5.
One thing I’ve noticed on this trip is that compared to previous trips, I’ve been allowing myself to get more wound up and worried about various things than I have in the past. It’s strange. I think it’s partly due to having high expectations of the levels of comfort I could afford out here – and I can afford a nice level of comfort. It’s perfectly adequate, I’ve just been allowing the small things to get in the way. The other thing is that I don’t have Doctor James to do my worrying for me. Having someone who worries more than you do is a great foil for allowing you to see the opposite opinion and deciding which is better. So it’s a shame he isn’t here with me!
But on this bus trip I think I have overcome that. It was a crap bus, there were delays, things weren’t ideal. But I knew it didn’t matter. I knew when I got to Canoa I could sleep as much as I wanted and recover from any problem that might have happened on the trip. Plus the bus was $7.50 so I had saved money there.
I arrive in Canoa and find a room and sort myself out. I go to buy some board shorts as frankly the swimming trunks I have aren’t cutting it out here. And they get dirty really easily. I find some for $15 which is cheap though they’re not a big brand name.
It’s Sunday. Everywhere is closed. I relax. It was raining in the morning and cloudy now, so there’s not many people around. In the evening I meet two girls Abbie and Maggie who are from just outside Detriot at the hotel bar. We have a chat and get on well. Some of the local surfer dudes have lit a fire on the beach. We go and join them. They wanna get with the girls desperately, it’s good fun to watch. Eventually I go to bed, with helicopters.
Quito – San Vincente – Canoa
I wake up. It’s dark still. The bus has stopped. I’m not sure what’s going on. I can’t get back to sleep.
2.00 am
I go for a piss. There are many other buses and lorries parked alongside us. Something’s going on.
3.00 am
I ask someone what’s happening. I’m sure he uses a word like “lavina” which is German for avalanche. Which is strange given that he was speaking Spanish. I guess that there’s been an avalanche that is blocking the road. His hand movements seemed to suggest it too.
4.00 am
I buy a beer from a random roadside shack that happens to be open. I smoke a cigarette, listen to my binaural beats tape and manage to fall asleep again.
6.00 am the bus starts moving. It’s light now and I see that there has been a fairly large mud slide that had covered the road, and a digger has managed to clear a single lane through it. There’s a big queue on the other side. It has been raining heavily, and it’s still spitting it down outside.
9.00 am we arrive in San Vincente. I get off the bus and try to find the bus to Canoa. I get to where I understand is the stall for the company that has the bus that goes there. The guy behind the desk is a big, fat, waste of space that looks like Jabba the Hutt. He doesn’t tell me much, and it seems he could really give a shit either way. I stand there for about 15 minutes feeling bored and being lazily attacked by flies. I notice that there are loads of tuk-tuks going past, so rather than continue to be bored I decide to take one. I get to Canoa for $5.
One thing I’ve noticed on this trip is that compared to previous trips, I’ve been allowing myself to get more wound up and worried about various things than I have in the past. It’s strange. I think it’s partly due to having high expectations of the levels of comfort I could afford out here – and I can afford a nice level of comfort. It’s perfectly adequate, I’ve just been allowing the small things to get in the way. The other thing is that I don’t have Doctor James to do my worrying for me. Having someone who worries more than you do is a great foil for allowing you to see the opposite opinion and deciding which is better. So it’s a shame he isn’t here with me!
But on this bus trip I think I have overcome that. It was a crap bus, there were delays, things weren’t ideal. But I knew it didn’t matter. I knew when I got to Canoa I could sleep as much as I wanted and recover from any problem that might have happened on the trip. Plus the bus was $7.50 so I had saved money there.
I arrive in Canoa and find a room and sort myself out. I go to buy some board shorts as frankly the swimming trunks I have aren’t cutting it out here. And they get dirty really easily. I find some for $15 which is cheap though they’re not a big brand name.
It’s Sunday. Everywhere is closed. I relax. It was raining in the morning and cloudy now, so there’s not many people around. In the evening I meet two girls Abbie and Maggie who are from just outside Detriot at the hotel bar. We have a chat and get on well. Some of the local surfer dudes have lit a fire on the beach. We go and join them. They wanna get with the girls desperately, it’s good fun to watch. Eventually I go to bed, with helicopters.
I Still Haven’t Found What I’m Looking for
Saturday 6 March
Quito, outbound
So I was told that there’s an “ejecutivo” class bus to Canoa from a company called Trans something which is coloured green, that goes direct to Canoa and leaves at 2 pm. Needless to say, when I get to the bus station I can’t find this mythical bus at all. There are a couple of companies called Trans something, neither of which seem to go to Canoa. I say “seem” because everyone in the station speaks only Spanish, and very fast, and I basically can’t tell what they are saying. It’s a big load of guesswork. Such is my life.
So anyway I find a bus company that goes almost all the way, to a place called San Vincente where I understand I need to catch another bus to Canoa. It will have to do, as I don’t seem to have any other options. It leaves at 9 pm. I have seven hours to kill.
I buy the ticket and head back into town. On my way I realise the ticket only cost $7.50 (about £5) which is really cheap. I guess it won’t be an “ejecutivo” class bus. Should be interesting.
I spend the rest of the afternoon doing extensive research to see if I can fit in Bolivia before I meet up with Alain again in Florianopolis. I try and make it work, but I can’t. I guess I’m going to have to spend two and a bit weeks on the Ecuadorean coast. Such is my life.
I go back to the bus station and of course I’m right. It’s a basic bus. But actually it’s not too bad. I can get comfortable in the seats and sleep OK. Only the loud music is a bad thing, but this isn’t constant thankfully.
As we career recklessly into the night through heavy rain down mountain roads I fall asleep and wonder what awaits me.
Quito, outbound
So I was told that there’s an “ejecutivo” class bus to Canoa from a company called Trans something which is coloured green, that goes direct to Canoa and leaves at 2 pm. Needless to say, when I get to the bus station I can’t find this mythical bus at all. There are a couple of companies called Trans something, neither of which seem to go to Canoa. I say “seem” because everyone in the station speaks only Spanish, and very fast, and I basically can’t tell what they are saying. It’s a big load of guesswork. Such is my life.
So anyway I find a bus company that goes almost all the way, to a place called San Vincente where I understand I need to catch another bus to Canoa. It will have to do, as I don’t seem to have any other options. It leaves at 9 pm. I have seven hours to kill.
I buy the ticket and head back into town. On my way I realise the ticket only cost $7.50 (about £5) which is really cheap. I guess it won’t be an “ejecutivo” class bus. Should be interesting.
I spend the rest of the afternoon doing extensive research to see if I can fit in Bolivia before I meet up with Alain again in Florianopolis. I try and make it work, but I can’t. I guess I’m going to have to spend two and a bit weeks on the Ecuadorean coast. Such is my life.
I go back to the bus station and of course I’m right. It’s a basic bus. But actually it’s not too bad. I can get comfortable in the seats and sleep OK. Only the loud music is a bad thing, but this isn’t constant thankfully.
As we career recklessly into the night through heavy rain down mountain roads I fall asleep and wonder what awaits me.
Wednesday 24 March 2010
Oh No, Not Again
Friday 5 March
Quito
The only piece of sightseeing that I still wanted to do was inside the Basilica – a big old church on a hill in the old town. I had arrived too late to see it properly the last time. So I went there and it was pretty awe inspiring, nice high vaulted Gothic edifice.
For two dollars you could climb up both the main tower and the bell tower. But they were really high up and on the tower, the stairs we steep, exposed and frankly way too scary. I chickened out of going all the way, though I did go halfway.
And then my camera ran out of batteries. Again. They really need to work on their warning systems on these things. Luckily I could take a handful more non-zoom snapshots to cover off what I wanted. And I climbed all the way up the bell tower. That was fun and mildly less scary.
I tried some other bars but I went back to the Irish bar in the evening – it is the only place I found where I could meet people. Of course it was tonight, on my last night in Quito, that I find out where the cool nightclub that everyone hangs out at is. Well, I may get one more chance to go to it.
Quito
The only piece of sightseeing that I still wanted to do was inside the Basilica – a big old church on a hill in the old town. I had arrived too late to see it properly the last time. So I went there and it was pretty awe inspiring, nice high vaulted Gothic edifice.
For two dollars you could climb up both the main tower and the bell tower. But they were really high up and on the tower, the stairs we steep, exposed and frankly way too scary. I chickened out of going all the way, though I did go halfway.
And then my camera ran out of batteries. Again. They really need to work on their warning systems on these things. Luckily I could take a handful more non-zoom snapshots to cover off what I wanted. And I climbed all the way up the bell tower. That was fun and mildly less scary.
I tried some other bars but I went back to the Irish bar in the evening – it is the only place I found where I could meet people. Of course it was tonight, on my last night in Quito, that I find out where the cool nightclub that everyone hangs out at is. Well, I may get one more chance to go to it.
You Will Be Upgraded
Thursday 4 March
Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz – Baltra, Galapagos Islands – Quito
We drove to the airport in the morning. We stopped off at a big hole. Literally, that is was it was. It was where some lava came out at some time or something. Now it was a big hole. Hmm.
Anyway we arrived at the airport and checked in. I then went back and asked for a window seat, and they gave me one – in the first class section. I had been upgraded on a plane for the first time in my life. Tellingly, the only extra benefit you got on this plane was a bigger seat. Still, that was a help as it made snoozing easier.
It was a strange flight as I’d presumed we’d be having a stop off at Guayaquil on the way back like we did on the way over. But no, we were direct, so I must have slept quite a while as it went past pretty quickly.
That evening I met up with Fiona / Catherine Tate again, but I was really tired so wasn’t much of a conversationalist on that occasion. But she kindly gave me some info on how to get to Canoa, my next destination.
Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz – Baltra, Galapagos Islands – Quito
We drove to the airport in the morning. We stopped off at a big hole. Literally, that is was it was. It was where some lava came out at some time or something. Now it was a big hole. Hmm.
Anyway we arrived at the airport and checked in. I then went back and asked for a window seat, and they gave me one – in the first class section. I had been upgraded on a plane for the first time in my life. Tellingly, the only extra benefit you got on this plane was a bigger seat. Still, that was a help as it made snoozing easier.
It was a strange flight as I’d presumed we’d be having a stop off at Guayaquil on the way back like we did on the way over. But no, we were direct, so I must have slept quite a while as it went past pretty quickly.
That evening I met up with Fiona / Catherine Tate again, but I was really tired so wasn’t much of a conversationalist on that occasion. But she kindly gave me some info on how to get to Canoa, my next destination.
We Are Your Friends
Wednesday 3 March
Isla Isabella – Isla Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands
It was a very early start, even by Galapagosian standards. We queued in the dark for the boat back to Santa Cruz. It was the same boat that we arrived on, but this time with a more manageable number of people. But the sea was rough. One of the conservationists was sick. She was having a tough time.
Once we’d arrived back in Puerto Ayora it was pretty funny. First I bumped into the Americans who were next to me in the hotel the first time around, and then I kept bumping into the conservationists. It felt like I knew half the town.
My non-English speaking driver picked me up again and took me to what I discovered to be Tortuga (Turtle) Bay. It was two beaches, one long, flat, deserted, with a few iguanas for good measure – this is the Galapagos after all – with a few waves coming in from the sea. The other was smaller, with crabs and calmer water for snorkelling. I had about two hours to kill on a deserted beach. As I didn’t know we were going here I didn’t have any swimming trunks. But, hey, you make so with what you can, so I swam in my pants. Of course, halfway through my swim I bumped into the conservationists again.
Anyway after that I had a quick lunch and then it was off to another boat trip to look at more iguanas and sea lions. But you know, I’d kinda had my fill. You’ve seen one iguana... Tomorrow it was back to the mean streets of Quito.
Isla Isabella – Isla Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands
It was a very early start, even by Galapagosian standards. We queued in the dark for the boat back to Santa Cruz. It was the same boat that we arrived on, but this time with a more manageable number of people. But the sea was rough. One of the conservationists was sick. She was having a tough time.
Once we’d arrived back in Puerto Ayora it was pretty funny. First I bumped into the Americans who were next to me in the hotel the first time around, and then I kept bumping into the conservationists. It felt like I knew half the town.
My non-English speaking driver picked me up again and took me to what I discovered to be Tortuga (Turtle) Bay. It was two beaches, one long, flat, deserted, with a few iguanas for good measure – this is the Galapagos after all – with a few waves coming in from the sea. The other was smaller, with crabs and calmer water for snorkelling. I had about two hours to kill on a deserted beach. As I didn’t know we were going here I didn’t have any swimming trunks. But, hey, you make so with what you can, so I swam in my pants. Of course, halfway through my swim I bumped into the conservationists again.
Anyway after that I had a quick lunch and then it was off to another boat trip to look at more iguanas and sea lions. But you know, I’d kinda had my fill. You’ve seen one iguana... Tomorrow it was back to the mean streets of Quito.
Money, That’s What I Want
Tuesday 2 March
Isla Isabella, Galapagos Islands
One of the things I wasn’t told about Isabella is that there are no banks on the island. This is rather unfortunate as, not knowing that, I hadn’t brought enough money with me to last the few days I was here. It ran out yesterday. Today I had to sort something out.
With Wilmer’s help I asked around and tried various options. It eventually became clear that I would have to get one of the folks to do a Western Union transfer to the island for me to have any cash at all. I phoned home and both my folks’ numbers, but there was no answer. Hmmm. That wasn’t great. I only had one other number in my (new) phone – TV’s famous Phil Reay-Smith. I called him and thankfully he answered. An hour later and it was all sorted, and I had a very expensive $200 in my wallet.
We went snorkelling in the morning. We started off in a large pool near the shore that was a mix of fresh and sea water due to the recent rains, so it was a bit brackish and brown. As we set out I noticed something swimming in the water. I went towards it. I was a penguin! It dived underwater and I followed it until it disappeared into the murkiness.
We reached a row of volcanic rocks that divided this pool from the sea proper. Wilmer mentioned that we had to climb over them and to take our flippers off. I tried to do this but a combination of algae on the rocks under the water and the jagged, volcanic nature of the rocks meant that I couldn’t keep balance. Fell over at the slowest speed possible and I acquired some slight chaffing. I put my flippers back on and found that they stopped me slipping and protected my feet from the sharp rocks as well.
Eventually we were past the rocks, and there were plenty of fish in the sea. All the usual, multicoloured tropical (equatorial?) fish. There was one large fish with a bulge on its forehead and a large mouth with four cylindrical teeth on each jaw, looking like it was eating rocks but actually scraping food off them. There were marine iguanas swimming past. You feel that evolution could do with a few more mutations to help them – they can only use their tails to swim, and their feet lie by their side, unused. They swim very slowly.
I saw one sea lion in the water. Unlike the iguanas they are very fast, and even with my flippers I couldn’t keep up with it for more than a couple of seconds. They’re certainly faster in the water than they are on land.
In the afternoon I went to a turtle breeding centre and saw more turtles that I’d seen even up to this point. They release 2000 turtles each year into the wild from this centre alone. We went to a place called the Wall of Tears where there was once a prison camp and to keep the prisoners busy they made them build a huge wall, just because. But around here were many of the turtles that had been released, slowly eating the vegetation. We also climbed up a little volcanic outcrop and had a good view of the surrounding area.
In the evening I had dinner and said goodbye to the conservationists – it would probably be the last time I would see them – except I saw them again and again over the next day!
Isla Isabella, Galapagos Islands
One of the things I wasn’t told about Isabella is that there are no banks on the island. This is rather unfortunate as, not knowing that, I hadn’t brought enough money with me to last the few days I was here. It ran out yesterday. Today I had to sort something out.
With Wilmer’s help I asked around and tried various options. It eventually became clear that I would have to get one of the folks to do a Western Union transfer to the island for me to have any cash at all. I phoned home and both my folks’ numbers, but there was no answer. Hmmm. That wasn’t great. I only had one other number in my (new) phone – TV’s famous Phil Reay-Smith. I called him and thankfully he answered. An hour later and it was all sorted, and I had a very expensive $200 in my wallet.
We went snorkelling in the morning. We started off in a large pool near the shore that was a mix of fresh and sea water due to the recent rains, so it was a bit brackish and brown. As we set out I noticed something swimming in the water. I went towards it. I was a penguin! It dived underwater and I followed it until it disappeared into the murkiness.
We reached a row of volcanic rocks that divided this pool from the sea proper. Wilmer mentioned that we had to climb over them and to take our flippers off. I tried to do this but a combination of algae on the rocks under the water and the jagged, volcanic nature of the rocks meant that I couldn’t keep balance. Fell over at the slowest speed possible and I acquired some slight chaffing. I put my flippers back on and found that they stopped me slipping and protected my feet from the sharp rocks as well.
Eventually we were past the rocks, and there were plenty of fish in the sea. All the usual, multicoloured tropical (equatorial?) fish. There was one large fish with a bulge on its forehead and a large mouth with four cylindrical teeth on each jaw, looking like it was eating rocks but actually scraping food off them. There were marine iguanas swimming past. You feel that evolution could do with a few more mutations to help them – they can only use their tails to swim, and their feet lie by their side, unused. They swim very slowly.
I saw one sea lion in the water. Unlike the iguanas they are very fast, and even with my flippers I couldn’t keep up with it for more than a couple of seconds. They’re certainly faster in the water than they are on land.
In the afternoon I went to a turtle breeding centre and saw more turtles that I’d seen even up to this point. They release 2000 turtles each year into the wild from this centre alone. We went to a place called the Wall of Tears where there was once a prison camp and to keep the prisoners busy they made them build a huge wall, just because. But around here were many of the turtles that had been released, slowly eating the vegetation. We also climbed up a little volcanic outcrop and had a good view of the surrounding area.
In the evening I had dinner and said goodbye to the conservationists – it would probably be the last time I would see them – except I saw them again and again over the next day!
Sunday 14 March 2010
When Tomorrow Comes
Monday 1 March
Isla Isabella, Galapagos Islands
In the same way that I’ve been spoilt for hot sunny deserted beaches by Uluwatu in Indonesia, I think I’ve now been spoilt for awesome landscapes by Patagonia. Admittedly, I haven’t been to New Zealand yet and from what I hear and what I’ve seen, Middle Earth looks equally spectacular. But today we walked up the side of a volcano. We reached the top and there was a great vista across the whole of the caldera, many kilometres across. It seems we were very lucky with the weather, it was unusually clear. But it’s no Patagonia.
Though I’m probably being a miserable bastard. It was still pretty awesome. I also bonded with Veronica over TV reporting. She’s a TV reporter from Norway. So is my brother.
After lunch I had a quick dip in the sea. It was a bit rough but warm, and pretty sunny – I could feel myself burning after a while.
I didn’t know what was going to happen next. Given that the printed itinerary I was given was out of the window since the tsunami had messed things up, I was never too sure what was going to happen. Nevertheless Wilmer eventually showed up like Mr. Benn and we were off on a new adventure.
This time is was to Las Islas Tintoreras – the Shark Islands to you and me. These were a group of very small islands formed by magma flowing into the sea, so it was an alien landscape of very sharp and dramatic black rocks, covered in bits of white lichen. But the real sight was the amount of animals.
There were sea lions lounging around everywhere, drying off in the sun. There was even one large sea lion that was harassing all the other male sea lions. For all their cute appearances – and they do look like dog of the sea – they are also very violent towards each other, and it’s rare to find one without a scar or wound of some sort – if not many. I saw one with an eye missing.
There were penguins crowding together on one rock. It was so bizarre to see penguins on the equator. They really must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Though I bet they’re feeling a lot more smug than their cousins in the Arctics. They don’t need to huddle together all the time to prevent themselves freezing to death.
There were loads of crabs, black, red and yellow in colour, though they were very shy and would run away if you got near them.
And then there were the iguanas. There were more iguanas here than you could possibly imagine. There was one beach where they were all in the process of laying eggs and this crowded area meant that there were the odd fights and strange hissing displays to keep the others away.
And finally there were the blue-footed boobies which we saw crowding together on another rock. They have blue feet like the name suggests. But they don’t look like boobies in the traditional sense. They were quite cool though.
After that the day ended with a meal and drink to celebrate Owen’s last night – one of the conservationists that was leaving to head back to Australia and then do a several month sailing trip from Thailand to India (I think, from memory).
Isla Isabella, Galapagos Islands
In the same way that I’ve been spoilt for hot sunny deserted beaches by Uluwatu in Indonesia, I think I’ve now been spoilt for awesome landscapes by Patagonia. Admittedly, I haven’t been to New Zealand yet and from what I hear and what I’ve seen, Middle Earth looks equally spectacular. But today we walked up the side of a volcano. We reached the top and there was a great vista across the whole of the caldera, many kilometres across. It seems we were very lucky with the weather, it was unusually clear. But it’s no Patagonia.
Though I’m probably being a miserable bastard. It was still pretty awesome. I also bonded with Veronica over TV reporting. She’s a TV reporter from Norway. So is my brother.
After lunch I had a quick dip in the sea. It was a bit rough but warm, and pretty sunny – I could feel myself burning after a while.
I didn’t know what was going to happen next. Given that the printed itinerary I was given was out of the window since the tsunami had messed things up, I was never too sure what was going to happen. Nevertheless Wilmer eventually showed up like Mr. Benn and we were off on a new adventure.
This time is was to Las Islas Tintoreras – the Shark Islands to you and me. These were a group of very small islands formed by magma flowing into the sea, so it was an alien landscape of very sharp and dramatic black rocks, covered in bits of white lichen. But the real sight was the amount of animals.
There were sea lions lounging around everywhere, drying off in the sun. There was even one large sea lion that was harassing all the other male sea lions. For all their cute appearances – and they do look like dog of the sea – they are also very violent towards each other, and it’s rare to find one without a scar or wound of some sort – if not many. I saw one with an eye missing.
There were penguins crowding together on one rock. It was so bizarre to see penguins on the equator. They really must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. Though I bet they’re feeling a lot more smug than their cousins in the Arctics. They don’t need to huddle together all the time to prevent themselves freezing to death.
There were loads of crabs, black, red and yellow in colour, though they were very shy and would run away if you got near them.
And then there were the iguanas. There were more iguanas here than you could possibly imagine. There was one beach where they were all in the process of laying eggs and this crowded area meant that there were the odd fights and strange hissing displays to keep the others away.
And finally there were the blue-footed boobies which we saw crowding together on another rock. They have blue feet like the name suggests. But they don’t look like boobies in the traditional sense. They were quite cool though.
After that the day ended with a meal and drink to celebrate Owen’s last night – one of the conservationists that was leaving to head back to Australia and then do a several month sailing trip from Thailand to India (I think, from memory).
Our Time is Running Out
Sunday 28 February
Isla Santa Cruz – Isla Isabella
The guy showing me round the island doesn’t have any English, and I don’t have more than the basic Spanish, so there is some confusion sometimes. We go to a place inland where there are some turtles. I’m not sure what exactly is going on but we spend a couple of hours walking around in the heat. We see a couple of very large turtles, they must be really old.
After that we went to a lava tunnel – an underground tunnel created by some lava flow sometime in the past. It’s very spooky and dripping with water. I walk all the way down to a part where the ceiling becomes very low and although the lights continue past this point and I could conceivably crawl through, the floor is wet and dirty and I don’t especially feel like it. I back to the entrance and the driver isn’t there – turns out he was waiting at the exit, expecting me to crawl through. I wait for a bit in the heat before he returns.
Then I travelled to Isabella island by boat. It was a two hour ride and there were more people than seats. I eventually ended up sitting on the floor which turned out to be a good idea as there was more space there, and a cool breeze coming from the hatch open in the fo’c’sle.
Once there I meet up with a new guide, a half-Japanese, half-Ecuadorean guy called Wilmer. He was really sweet and clearly had a great knowledge and passion for his job – he would get excited whenever we saw some new animal, and he also knew the Latin names of the animals.
We went to a place where there were flamingos and to get to it we had to walk though a nature reserve that held iguanas, lizards and lots of different types of birds. Unfortunately half way through my camera ran out of battery. That’s the one bad thing about this camera – it doesn’t tell you that it’s about to run out, it only tells you when it has, and shuts down. However even after it has run out, you can still turn it on again four or five times and take a quick picture before it shuts down again, as long as you don’t use the zoom.
We saw only about three or four flamingos and I just about managed to get a picture of them. Then on the walk back we went via the beach, and there was the most amazing sunset ever. And I didn’t have a working camera with me. Arsebiscuits.
I got back to the hotel and discovered that my room didn’t have air conditioning. I tried complaining to the hotel staff but they weren’t playing ball. So I asked to speak to the person who organised this trip – someone called Jovi who I only ever had any contact with over the phone. I don’t know what he said to them but pretty quickly they cleared out another room that seemed to be full of laundry and gave it to me. It was a three-bed room so now it felt like I had the penthouse suite.
That evening I met up with a large group that was staying in the same hotel as me, and indeed came over on the same boat. They had been doing conservation work on San Christobal island. They were a combination of British, Australian, American, Canadian, French, Norwegian (I think that’s all of them) and were all easy going and good to get along with. I went to bed fairly early as this tour means I have a lot of early starts.
Isla Santa Cruz – Isla Isabella
The guy showing me round the island doesn’t have any English, and I don’t have more than the basic Spanish, so there is some confusion sometimes. We go to a place inland where there are some turtles. I’m not sure what exactly is going on but we spend a couple of hours walking around in the heat. We see a couple of very large turtles, they must be really old.
After that we went to a lava tunnel – an underground tunnel created by some lava flow sometime in the past. It’s very spooky and dripping with water. I walk all the way down to a part where the ceiling becomes very low and although the lights continue past this point and I could conceivably crawl through, the floor is wet and dirty and I don’t especially feel like it. I back to the entrance and the driver isn’t there – turns out he was waiting at the exit, expecting me to crawl through. I wait for a bit in the heat before he returns.
Then I travelled to Isabella island by boat. It was a two hour ride and there were more people than seats. I eventually ended up sitting on the floor which turned out to be a good idea as there was more space there, and a cool breeze coming from the hatch open in the fo’c’sle.
Once there I meet up with a new guide, a half-Japanese, half-Ecuadorean guy called Wilmer. He was really sweet and clearly had a great knowledge and passion for his job – he would get excited whenever we saw some new animal, and he also knew the Latin names of the animals.
We went to a place where there were flamingos and to get to it we had to walk though a nature reserve that held iguanas, lizards and lots of different types of birds. Unfortunately half way through my camera ran out of battery. That’s the one bad thing about this camera – it doesn’t tell you that it’s about to run out, it only tells you when it has, and shuts down. However even after it has run out, you can still turn it on again four or five times and take a quick picture before it shuts down again, as long as you don’t use the zoom.
We saw only about three or four flamingos and I just about managed to get a picture of them. Then on the walk back we went via the beach, and there was the most amazing sunset ever. And I didn’t have a working camera with me. Arsebiscuits.
I got back to the hotel and discovered that my room didn’t have air conditioning. I tried complaining to the hotel staff but they weren’t playing ball. So I asked to speak to the person who organised this trip – someone called Jovi who I only ever had any contact with over the phone. I don’t know what he said to them but pretty quickly they cleared out another room that seemed to be full of laundry and gave it to me. It was a three-bed room so now it felt like I had the penthouse suite.
That evening I met up with a large group that was staying in the same hotel as me, and indeed came over on the same boat. They had been doing conservation work on San Christobal island. They were a combination of British, Australian, American, Canadian, French, Norwegian (I think that’s all of them) and were all easy going and good to get along with. I went to bed fairly early as this tour means I have a lot of early starts.
Wave of Mutilation
Saturday 27 February
Quito – Guayanquil – Baltra – Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands
The running joke – if you can call it that – is that I leave places shortly before something bad happens. I left Mumbai a day and a half before the terrorist attacks on 27 November, 2008. There are other examples, though they slip my mind right now. The “joke” is that I leave a trail of destruction in my wake.
I had left Chile about a month ago. Puerto Varas is about 200-250 miles south of Concepción, which in Chilean terms is about next door. I was in the airport at Quito waiting for my flight and I checked for wifi. There was. I checked my mail and I had an email from Mum telling me there was a tsunami expected in the Pacific from an earthquake in Chile. Well I wasn’t worried as right now I was in Quito and at nearly 3000 metres high and who knows how many miles inland, I didn’t think it was a risk for me.
The flight was delayed nonetheless and a fair bit of confusion reigned as various flights were called in tandem. I just sat and continued to surf until the time felt right to join a queue. Eventually we get to Guayaquil (disturbingly pronounced Why-I-Kill in Spanish). There are some annoying Americans who are ordering sandwiches from a stall as though it were a deli. In English. They hold the queue up for 20 mins when they could have just ordered off the menu like everyone else. I felt sorry for the girl behind them who just wanted a water.
There are more delays to the flight. I realise now that this most likely was due to the tsunami alert, but no one told us anything. Eventually we land in Baltra – a shitty little island off the north of Santa Cruz, with nothing but cacti and a strange grey, wispy vegetation, which is presumably why they built the airport there.
I meet my guy and he takes us to my hotel. The tsunami alert has meant that no one was allowed to leave Puerto Ayora, so my itinerary was out the window and I had the afternoon to myself. It turns out that in the morning everyone was evacuated to the highlands and there was a few thousand people hanging around there waiting for something to happen. I met a former Norwegian TV reporter who filed a report to her station over Skype from the island. I also meet some people who were left behind and saw it hit – it was only a couple of feet high and hit at low tide so all that happened was a bit of a splash on to the main road – you could see the flotsam left behind when I arrived. That was all.
At lunch I met an American couple and we joined up to go to the Charles Darwin Station in the afternoon, where they breed turtles and iguanas. Pleasingly, the main road is also called Charles Darwin Road.
So I see the first of literally too many turtles and iguanas. Although this is the only time I see land iguanas, which are coloured bright orange compared to the black marine iguanas. I also see “El solitario Jorge” or Lonesome George to you and me – the last surviving turtle of his species at an estimated 150 years and survivor of two world wars amongst other travails.
We also pass the fishing dock where the fishermen bring their catches for sale. The local pelicans and, surprisingly, sea lions have caught on to this and wait for the off cuts with great enthusiasm. Given that the pelicans are pretty big – wingspan about a metre and a half and beaks at about 40 cm – and that they are not afraid of humans, a crazy chaos reigns over the whole area. One pelican even tried to land on my head!
But that was trumped when a sea lion jumped a good three feet out the water and landed on the dock, waddled over to the counter and stood there, head hooked over the top, patiently waiting for some fish scraps to be sent its way. They act so like dogs – even their barks – that they should be called sea dogs in my opinion, if that phrase didn’t already have a different meaning. They were quicker than the pelicans at catching the scraps too, interestingly.
What my cousin Nicola had said was true – there was so much natural wildlife around you could barely miss it.
After that I have dinner on my own but meet up with two American guys who are in the room next to me at my hotel and eventually the American couple from the day join us as well. We all have a few drinks and a chat and eventually I turn in relatively early as I have an early start the next day.
Quito – Guayanquil – Baltra – Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, Galapagos Islands
The running joke – if you can call it that – is that I leave places shortly before something bad happens. I left Mumbai a day and a half before the terrorist attacks on 27 November, 2008. There are other examples, though they slip my mind right now. The “joke” is that I leave a trail of destruction in my wake.
I had left Chile about a month ago. Puerto Varas is about 200-250 miles south of Concepción, which in Chilean terms is about next door. I was in the airport at Quito waiting for my flight and I checked for wifi. There was. I checked my mail and I had an email from Mum telling me there was a tsunami expected in the Pacific from an earthquake in Chile. Well I wasn’t worried as right now I was in Quito and at nearly 3000 metres high and who knows how many miles inland, I didn’t think it was a risk for me.
The flight was delayed nonetheless and a fair bit of confusion reigned as various flights were called in tandem. I just sat and continued to surf until the time felt right to join a queue. Eventually we get to Guayaquil (disturbingly pronounced Why-I-Kill in Spanish). There are some annoying Americans who are ordering sandwiches from a stall as though it were a deli. In English. They hold the queue up for 20 mins when they could have just ordered off the menu like everyone else. I felt sorry for the girl behind them who just wanted a water.
There are more delays to the flight. I realise now that this most likely was due to the tsunami alert, but no one told us anything. Eventually we land in Baltra – a shitty little island off the north of Santa Cruz, with nothing but cacti and a strange grey, wispy vegetation, which is presumably why they built the airport there.
I meet my guy and he takes us to my hotel. The tsunami alert has meant that no one was allowed to leave Puerto Ayora, so my itinerary was out the window and I had the afternoon to myself. It turns out that in the morning everyone was evacuated to the highlands and there was a few thousand people hanging around there waiting for something to happen. I met a former Norwegian TV reporter who filed a report to her station over Skype from the island. I also meet some people who were left behind and saw it hit – it was only a couple of feet high and hit at low tide so all that happened was a bit of a splash on to the main road – you could see the flotsam left behind when I arrived. That was all.
At lunch I met an American couple and we joined up to go to the Charles Darwin Station in the afternoon, where they breed turtles and iguanas. Pleasingly, the main road is also called Charles Darwin Road.
So I see the first of literally too many turtles and iguanas. Although this is the only time I see land iguanas, which are coloured bright orange compared to the black marine iguanas. I also see “El solitario Jorge” or Lonesome George to you and me – the last surviving turtle of his species at an estimated 150 years and survivor of two world wars amongst other travails.
We also pass the fishing dock where the fishermen bring their catches for sale. The local pelicans and, surprisingly, sea lions have caught on to this and wait for the off cuts with great enthusiasm. Given that the pelicans are pretty big – wingspan about a metre and a half and beaks at about 40 cm – and that they are not afraid of humans, a crazy chaos reigns over the whole area. One pelican even tried to land on my head!
But that was trumped when a sea lion jumped a good three feet out the water and landed on the dock, waddled over to the counter and stood there, head hooked over the top, patiently waiting for some fish scraps to be sent its way. They act so like dogs – even their barks – that they should be called sea dogs in my opinion, if that phrase didn’t already have a different meaning. They were quicker than the pelicans at catching the scraps too, interestingly.
What my cousin Nicola had said was true – there was so much natural wildlife around you could barely miss it.
After that I have dinner on my own but meet up with two American guys who are in the room next to me at my hotel and eventually the American couple from the day join us as well. We all have a few drinks and a chat and eventually I turn in relatively early as I have an early start the next day.
Thursday 11 March 2010
Turn Left
Friday 26 February
Quito
This was my last full day in Quito so I was going to do the sights of the old town, which I hadn’t been to yet. In Quito the day usually starts off sunny and then gets cloudy and rainy in the afternoon. This morning it was raining. Well, I could always do it when I get back from the Galapagos I thought. I continue to wrestle with PayPal but have to give up and end up paying in a combination of cash and credit card. I went for an Almuerzo for lunch – a set meal consisting of soup, meat with rice and veg, juice and a small pudding. For two dollars. It was tasty, but afterwards I could feel things getting dodgy in my stomach.
Ironically the weather cleared up in the afternoon so I did my sightseeing anyway. It’s nice and colonial down there and very different from the careless, American-style build shit anywhere approach of the new town where I was staying.
I checked what the time was with the guy in reception and only found out now that I had spent the whole time in Quito one hour slow.
I went out for dinner at a restaurant that I had seen the past few days that looked interesting, because its decor was completely crazy. It was like the most pretentious bar design from Shoreditch, mixed with Alice in Wonderland. Really crazy. But the food was great.
I went back to the Irish bar and met Fiona who looked and acted like Catherine Tate. I had a great time with her and a few other people and went to bed at a reasonable hour to catch my Galapagos flight in the morning.
Quito
This was my last full day in Quito so I was going to do the sights of the old town, which I hadn’t been to yet. In Quito the day usually starts off sunny and then gets cloudy and rainy in the afternoon. This morning it was raining. Well, I could always do it when I get back from the Galapagos I thought. I continue to wrestle with PayPal but have to give up and end up paying in a combination of cash and credit card. I went for an Almuerzo for lunch – a set meal consisting of soup, meat with rice and veg, juice and a small pudding. For two dollars. It was tasty, but afterwards I could feel things getting dodgy in my stomach.
Ironically the weather cleared up in the afternoon so I did my sightseeing anyway. It’s nice and colonial down there and very different from the careless, American-style build shit anywhere approach of the new town where I was staying.
I checked what the time was with the guy in reception and only found out now that I had spent the whole time in Quito one hour slow.
I went out for dinner at a restaurant that I had seen the past few days that looked interesting, because its decor was completely crazy. It was like the most pretentious bar design from Shoreditch, mixed with Alice in Wonderland. Really crazy. But the food was great.
I went back to the Irish bar and met Fiona who looked and acted like Catherine Tate. I had a great time with her and a few other people and went to bed at a reasonable hour to catch my Galapagos flight in the morning.
You Come to Me with Excuses
Thursday 25 February
Quito
I bought a new mobile phone. I don’t actually need it for the phone especially, but I do need an alarm clock and something to help me tell the time. I went back to the same place and luckily there was a different person there, one who spoke English, so that made things easier.
I spent most of the day trying to sort my way through the admin of using a PayPal account to pay for my Galapagos trip, which frankly makes the French look like they are the epitome of sleek, organised systems.
The mugging had made me lazy and I didn’t really care about doing any tourist stuff. I had found a book in the hostel which was Martin Kemp’s autobiography. True! Gold. So I started reading that, which was interesting. He was a lucky bastard, having a brother who was one of the top songwriters of the 80s. Although perhaps the two brain tumours meant he wasn’t so lucky. It made me want to see that film about the Krays that he starred in as well.
I went to an Irish bar in the evening and met some nice people. For some reason I didn’t have an evening meal today as well. The large lunches combined with the altitude are playing havoc with me. I’ve definitely lost weight on this trip. I usually eat a lot at home but the randomness of travelling means that couldn’t happen here.
Quito
I bought a new mobile phone. I don’t actually need it for the phone especially, but I do need an alarm clock and something to help me tell the time. I went back to the same place and luckily there was a different person there, one who spoke English, so that made things easier.
I spent most of the day trying to sort my way through the admin of using a PayPal account to pay for my Galapagos trip, which frankly makes the French look like they are the epitome of sleek, organised systems.
The mugging had made me lazy and I didn’t really care about doing any tourist stuff. I had found a book in the hostel which was Martin Kemp’s autobiography. True! Gold. So I started reading that, which was interesting. He was a lucky bastard, having a brother who was one of the top songwriters of the 80s. Although perhaps the two brain tumours meant he wasn’t so lucky. It made me want to see that film about the Krays that he starred in as well.
I went to an Irish bar in the evening and met some nice people. For some reason I didn’t have an evening meal today as well. The large lunches combined with the altitude are playing havoc with me. I’ve definitely lost weight on this trip. I usually eat a lot at home but the randomness of travelling means that couldn’t happen here.
Take My Breath Away
Wednesday 24 February
Quito
I bought a new mobile phone. I don’t actually need it for the phone especially, but I do need an alarm clock and something to help me tell the time. I checked on the internet what the word for ‘cheap’ is in Spanish (barato) and after a long discussion, much use of mime and broken Spanish I’m the proud owner of a Nokia 1661, the kind of phone that brings back nostalgic memories of the 3210.
I take it easy in the morning and then in the evening head for the Teleférico – a small cable car that takes you up the side of one of the mountains that surround Quito to views across the town and surrounding area. Now I’ve been in cable cars before and don’t usually have a problem with them, but I haven’t been in one for a while. When I get there the place is practically deserted. The cars are small – they only fit four people. And the pylons holding the whole thing up are for some reason lent over away from the vertical giving the very real impression that they are going to fall over at any minute.
So I get in a car and begin my journey up the mountain. The sun is out, the car is made from plastic and the heat, combined with my newly discovered fear of cable cars, is starting to make me sweat. The pylons have numbers. You can count them as you go up. As we were getting higher I was hoping that nothing was going to happen at pylon 13. Which is ridiculous as I’m not superstitious, but the mind can play tricks on you at times like these. 10 ... 11 ... 12 ... Pylon 13 appeared. The car passed through it, juddering through the attachments. We had made it. I thought. And then two seconds later ... Clunk! The whole thing suddenly stopped. And because of that bastard Newton, the sudden end to the movement of the cable meant that the car itself still had a lot of momentum. So there I was, swinging carelessly back and forth from the cable like some crazy pendulum, shaking slightly in the wind as well, suspended tens of meters above the sharply sloping mountainside below. Just past pylon 13.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
As I desperately attempted to contain the fractious parts of my mind in some kind of sensible order we continued to swing back and forth for a good while longer. And then, after what was literally a couple of minutes, we started again and made it to the top. I had survived. That was the first of two life-threatening events that day.
I was now at 4100 metres and although there was no headache there was a definite shortness of breath. There was a good view over the city but on the other side of the mountain there was only cloud. The ground disappeared into a void of grey nothingness. I walked slowly along the path, taking pictures and videos of the scene. There was a fence with some warnings about not going further. The path went through it and continued up into the clouds themselves. There was no point in heading up there. There wouldn’t exactly be a good view. I turned around and headed back. By the time I had returned to the cable car, the cloud had enveloped the whole of the top of the mountain and you couldn’t see anything. I returned to the relative normality of 3000 metres.
Like I said Quito is a nice place, but you need to take taxis after dark. The streets are not safe. I’d read this in both my guidebooks and on a sign in the hostel. I went out for supper, although again I wasn’t hungry and just had some clam chowder in an Irish American themed restaurant. I walked home. I had forgotten to take a taxi. I’d like to blame the altitude for making me lack concentration. All the way taxis were stopping and offering me a lift. It was only a few blocks I was thinking. No need. Another factor what that for the whole time in Quito until the last day, I had my clock (on my computer and newly bought phone) an hour slow. So instead of it being before midnight, it was actually afterwards.
It was only a few blocks. I was literally around the corner from my hotel. Then suddenly I noticed someone running up behind me. It was some guy, looking messed up. He got in front of me and said something in Spanish that I didn’t understand, but I knew what he was saying. He pulled out a knife. It was about 10 inches long. Strangely, the first thing that popped into my head was “Call that a knife? That’s not a knife!” but unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my machete with me. The knife looked old, rusty and blunt but I wasn’t about to test that hypothesis. In my right pocket I had 40 dollars which I gave him. My left pocket had my new phone. Please don’t take that I was thinking. He patted my left pocket and took the phone. It’s really worth much less to you than it is to me, I was thinking, but reasoned discussions weren’t taking place right now. I indicated that I had nothing left. He patted the rest of my clothes. Luckily he didn’t feel my credit card in one of the pockets of my fake leather jacket. He ran off.
I’d lost the equivalent of about 90 dollars or 60 quid. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I had adrenaline running through me but I didn’t feel bad. In fact, the worst thing was that I remember Doctor James had said that his brother was one of the few people that had been to Quito and not been robbed. I wanted the bragging rights to say the same thing. Having thought about it afterwards that fact – the threat to my ego – was the thing that pissed me off the most. Sixty quid I could live without.
The other thing was that I would have to go back to the same place and buy another phone tomorrow. I thought about it for a bit and decided I could deal with that too.
Quito
I bought a new mobile phone. I don’t actually need it for the phone especially, but I do need an alarm clock and something to help me tell the time. I checked on the internet what the word for ‘cheap’ is in Spanish (barato) and after a long discussion, much use of mime and broken Spanish I’m the proud owner of a Nokia 1661, the kind of phone that brings back nostalgic memories of the 3210.
I take it easy in the morning and then in the evening head for the Teleférico – a small cable car that takes you up the side of one of the mountains that surround Quito to views across the town and surrounding area. Now I’ve been in cable cars before and don’t usually have a problem with them, but I haven’t been in one for a while. When I get there the place is practically deserted. The cars are small – they only fit four people. And the pylons holding the whole thing up are for some reason lent over away from the vertical giving the very real impression that they are going to fall over at any minute.
So I get in a car and begin my journey up the mountain. The sun is out, the car is made from plastic and the heat, combined with my newly discovered fear of cable cars, is starting to make me sweat. The pylons have numbers. You can count them as you go up. As we were getting higher I was hoping that nothing was going to happen at pylon 13. Which is ridiculous as I’m not superstitious, but the mind can play tricks on you at times like these. 10 ... 11 ... 12 ... Pylon 13 appeared. The car passed through it, juddering through the attachments. We had made it. I thought. And then two seconds later ... Clunk! The whole thing suddenly stopped. And because of that bastard Newton, the sudden end to the movement of the cable meant that the car itself still had a lot of momentum. So there I was, swinging carelessly back and forth from the cable like some crazy pendulum, shaking slightly in the wind as well, suspended tens of meters above the sharply sloping mountainside below. Just past pylon 13.
I couldn’t quite believe it.
As I desperately attempted to contain the fractious parts of my mind in some kind of sensible order we continued to swing back and forth for a good while longer. And then, after what was literally a couple of minutes, we started again and made it to the top. I had survived. That was the first of two life-threatening events that day.
I was now at 4100 metres and although there was no headache there was a definite shortness of breath. There was a good view over the city but on the other side of the mountain there was only cloud. The ground disappeared into a void of grey nothingness. I walked slowly along the path, taking pictures and videos of the scene. There was a fence with some warnings about not going further. The path went through it and continued up into the clouds themselves. There was no point in heading up there. There wouldn’t exactly be a good view. I turned around and headed back. By the time I had returned to the cable car, the cloud had enveloped the whole of the top of the mountain and you couldn’t see anything. I returned to the relative normality of 3000 metres.
Like I said Quito is a nice place, but you need to take taxis after dark. The streets are not safe. I’d read this in both my guidebooks and on a sign in the hostel. I went out for supper, although again I wasn’t hungry and just had some clam chowder in an Irish American themed restaurant. I walked home. I had forgotten to take a taxi. I’d like to blame the altitude for making me lack concentration. All the way taxis were stopping and offering me a lift. It was only a few blocks I was thinking. No need. Another factor what that for the whole time in Quito until the last day, I had my clock (on my computer and newly bought phone) an hour slow. So instead of it being before midnight, it was actually afterwards.
It was only a few blocks. I was literally around the corner from my hotel. Then suddenly I noticed someone running up behind me. It was some guy, looking messed up. He got in front of me and said something in Spanish that I didn’t understand, but I knew what he was saying. He pulled out a knife. It was about 10 inches long. Strangely, the first thing that popped into my head was “Call that a knife? That’s not a knife!” but unfortunately I had forgotten to bring my machete with me. The knife looked old, rusty and blunt but I wasn’t about to test that hypothesis. In my right pocket I had 40 dollars which I gave him. My left pocket had my new phone. Please don’t take that I was thinking. He patted my left pocket and took the phone. It’s really worth much less to you than it is to me, I was thinking, but reasoned discussions weren’t taking place right now. I indicated that I had nothing left. He patted the rest of my clothes. Luckily he didn’t feel my credit card in one of the pockets of my fake leather jacket. He ran off.
I’d lost the equivalent of about 90 dollars or 60 quid. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. I had adrenaline running through me but I didn’t feel bad. In fact, the worst thing was that I remember Doctor James had said that his brother was one of the few people that had been to Quito and not been robbed. I wanted the bragging rights to say the same thing. Having thought about it afterwards that fact – the threat to my ego – was the thing that pissed me off the most. Sixty quid I could live without.
The other thing was that I would have to go back to the same place and buy another phone tomorrow. I thought about it for a bit and decided I could deal with that too.
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