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I´m cheating, and writing this retrospectively from Honduras, where I arrived after three flights yesterday. I`m getting a pro at this flying malarkey. New coping strategy is to turn the ipod up full blast, ignore and announcements, shut my eyes and think I`m on a bumpy bus. It kind of works. That and the alcohol! Just got to brave the propeller plane over to the Bay Islands later this afternoon. Wish me luck...
Anyway, Isabella. More sleepy and laid back from Santa Cruz, with wide sandy roads and shops that shut down for a siesta for most of the afternoon, life on Isabella was peaceful and full of tranquillity. Working in the Tortoise Breeding centre in the mornings, I had the afternoons free to explore the long sweep of beautiful beach and the lagoons where if luck was on my side I would spot flamingos. Only minutes after arriving on the island a black flash darted through the water just off the port, providing me with my first glimpse of a Galapagos Penguin.
Work, if that's what I can call it, involved a forty minute walk through the village, with the sound of the waves crashing on the beach to my to my left, past the Iguana crossing sign, where the infrequent cars would have to pause while the creatures slowly made their way over the sandy road down to the rock pools on the beach where they would fish for breakfast, down a long winding board walk over the lagoon where lizards and iguanas baked in the sun, through the forest where poisonous apple trees lined the way, providing respite from the already baking sun, the dried fruit crunching underfoot, and finally to the centre, home to nine hundred and ninety four tortoises.
Monday's Wednesday's and Friday's were feeding days, which started with the collection of huge green leaves where massive spiders sometimes lurked. As soon as the tortoises saw the green leaves they would start clambering over each other, trying to escape from the enclosures, eager to munch their breakfast. I think I would do the same if someone only fed me three times a week. Ranging from three months old to over one hundred years, the tortoises ranged from tiny creatures which would fit in the palm of your hand to huge monsters which roamed in the large pens. After ripping up the leaves, cleaning out the mucky brown lagoons where the tortoises like to lounge, and trying to avoid being nipped in the process, the rest of the morning was spent raking out the enclosures before heading back to the village for lunch. The locals really like their carbs, and the food, after a delicious bowlful of soup, was often a combination of rice and chips and egg, chips, rice and cheese, or rice, chips, eggs and cheese, or rice and more rice. I will be happy not to see rice again for a long time! After two weeks, I was tempted to start eating the tortoises leaves just to get some greens!
On my first Tuesday on Isabella, I went with the rest of the volunteers to see los tintoreras, the white tipped reef sharks which bask in the shelter of a small open air lava tunnel which has formed at the edge of a lagoon near to the harbour. After hiring snorkels, Fabritzio, our local guide took us out across the harbour in his little boat, stopping to point out marine life along the way. The sun baked down on the glinting blue sea while Blue Footed Boobies dived around us, sea lions lounged on boats bobbing in the harbour, and a penguin stood like a sentry on the rocks, flanked by a pelican on either side. I was in such awe it was hard to know where to look next.
Docking on the volcanic island, we walked over the lava formations to look down into the channel where the sharks gracefully swam, gliding slowly back and forth through the water. The peaceful, slow ballet of the sharks replaced any fear that I thought I might feel with a new found respect for the magnificent creatures (though I`m not sure how I would feel if I faced one head on in the water!). Crossing the island to a small beach where a sea lion dozed under a tree, waking now and then to flip a flipper, yawn lazily and sneeze, I passed hundreds of iguana´s who lay camouflaged on the rocks. To begin with it was difficult to spot them, but when my eyes became accustomed I was amazed at just how many there were. Ranging from tiny little lizards to huge dragon like beasts, the creatures watched on, unfazed, as we wandered by.
Following a short boat ride into a near by bay (rather too close to where the sharks were for my liking), we donned our snorkelling gear and jumped into the waves. Snorkelling over to the rocks, with brightly coloured fish swimming around me, I suddenly saw a flash of black whizz past me. With sharks still in my mind, I was terrified for a moment, but soon realised it was a sea lion. Diving under the water, I was treated to an amazing display as the playful creatures swam around me, zooming right up to my face and changing direction at the last possible minute, blowing bubbles and circling me playfully. I watched in happy awe, nearly drowning myself in the process as laughing under the water with a snorkel in your mouth is a mean feat.
The rest of my first week on Isabella passed by with work in the mornings, afternoon walks or runs along the beautiful beach spotting star fish along the way, and evenings in Bar de Beto, lounging in a hammock with a beer in hand while the waves splashed on the beach and Ziggy Marley provided the perfect backdrop.
On Saturday, we went to explore Sierra Negra, the active volcano which presides over the island. Driving in a packed jeep up to the mountain, we passed through more variations of vegetation, from the cactus lined dry low lands, through rain forest and banana plantations, up to the lush, wet vegetation at the base of the volcano. Rather than risk sneezing my way along on a horse, I chose to walk the twenty kilometre round trip, up and around the basin, down over the lava fields, fresh with solidified lava from the last eruption only a few years ago, and over to the neighbouring volcan chico. Sierra Negra has the second largest crater in the world, and when the clouds parted I was able to look across the great vacant expanse, void of life apart from the brightly coloured finches which flew over head. Pausing for a picnic lunch on the top of Volcan Chico, the smell of sulphur was still present. From the misty cloud that filled the walk to the rim, we had emerged into bright sunshine, clearing the skies and providing an amazing view across the island to the sea beyond.
Gluttons for punishment, despite the aching legs from the day before, on Sunday the Sarah`s and I decided to walk to the Wall of Tears, another twenty Kilometre round trip. Built by prisoners from the penal colony which was on the island in the late forties, the wall of tears is simply a huge stone wall stood in the middle of nowhere. Walking along the sandy rocky track in the baking heat, I could only imagine the toil of the unfortunate men who had carried the stones in the past century. Little tracks led off the road to bright green lagoons, caves formed by lava flow, beaches surrounded by mangroves and high miradors which provided views of the green island stretching beneath us down to the bright blue sea. Walking back along the huge expanse of deserted beach, we waded through the sinky sand as the waves rushed up and down the beach, catching us by surprise at times and drenching us.
My afternoons of my second week on Isabella were spent swinging on my favourite swing at the little park on the beach, or lounging under my favourite palm tree where I tackled Darwin´s Origin of Species. On Wednesday, Alfredo, the lovely hostel owner from the Macarena took us to visit the National Park and the deep caves which stretched for miles under the ground and provided a hiding place for the ex president Sucre in the forties. We visited a view point where little finches hopped around us as I unsuccessfully tried to capture them in a picture. The island stretched before us, full of green with only sign of life being the little village of Villamil in the distance. On the way back we stopped of at Campo Duro, a stunning campsite set in beautifully kept grounds, full of lush green plants and brightly coloured flowers. Open air showers were positioned down windy paths behind little garden gates. Tortoises roamed in their enclosures, while one scraped out a hole in preparation for laying her eggs. I could just imagine myself buying some land and opening something similar.
The weekend was spent with a friend I`d met on Santa Cruz, wandering around the island down to the harbour where a sea lion lounged on a deck chair, having lazy days trying to spot pink `penguins` (or maybe that was flamingos), taking pictures and drinking beers on the end of the pier.
I was sad to leave Isabella, and think that one day I might just have to return. I have an open offer of a teaching job, so I will have to see where the next few months take me. Back in Santa Cruz, after a much more pleasant boat ride and breakfast at the Rock, Ziv and I took a water taxi to Los Grietas where we swam in the crystal clear water at the bottom of two high cliffs where locals took turns in jumping off the rocks.
On Sunday afternoon I boarded the Aida Maria and set sail to explore the southern Galapagos Islands. A beautiful yacht, with a wonderful crew and only 16 passengers, I felt like I was in heaven. After months of hostels, volunteer accommodation and lots of rice, it was wonderful to have a little bit of luxury. And the food! What a delight to see plates full of green stuff!
Waking up after a choppy nights sailing, where I had to sleep on my front holding on to my top bunk through fear of landing on Heike, the german girl in the bunk below, I was greeted with the stunning view of sun pouring through the window, reflecting of the turquoise sea with surrounded us. Following a scrumptios breakfast, we took the dingy to the shore where sea lions lounged on the beach. No-one had told the playful creatures that they are supposed to keep a metres distance from the tourists, and they scampered towards me as I tried to take photo's, fearless and full of fun. One little guy woke up bored, and decided it was play time. After nudging his mom with a whiskery nose and receiving a slap from her flipper and a growl which obviously meant let me snooze, he scampered along the beach, waking up disgruntled sea lions as he went, before spotting me and coming to pose for pictures. The huge alpha male guarded the beach, swimming up and down and splashing in the waves. After spotting nesting pelicans, iguanas and lizards, we headed back to the boat and dived into the perfect blue before sailing around to Santa Fe. More sea lions met us at the pier, and more iguana´s lounged beneath the ancient cactus trees. Boobies sat on their nests and Frigate birds swooped and glided over the cliffs.
The following day we sailed to Espanola. I sat on the deck and listened to music with Lior as we watched the waves in hope of spotting dolphins. I caught sight of a manta ray jumping and falling back into the ocean, it´s triangular body glinting silver in the sun. In morning we explored the island, watching albatrosses launch themselves off the cliffs, while a blow hole cast rainbows across the sky. The sea was the most beautiful milky turquoise I have ever seen, turning almost white as the waves crashed on the rocks. At Gardener Bay, I walked along the beautiful beach, stepping over sea lions along the way and watching the bright orange crabs traverse over the rocks, before swimming in the sea with more playful sea lions. A mocking bird hopped onto my bag and sat looking at me inquisitively, with no sense of fear, which was wonderful to see. Back on board the yacht, following a delicious snack of bread balls dripping with honey, we watched Madagascar two, and the evening was spent playing Bulls*** (at which I am terrible!). It`s always the quiet ones you have to watch out for - Suren won nearly every game with his head down tactics.
Arriving at Floreana on Wednesday, we visited Post Office Bay, where I left my postcards for the next wandering traveller from my part of the world to pick up and take home. In days gone by, pirates and sailors used the bay as a place to leave letters for the next visitor to find and deliver. I wrote and sent a card to myself to remind me of what an amazing adventure and journey this has been and continues to be, and to motivate me to keep moving forward and follow my dreams.
After exploring a huge cavern of a cave, the rest of the morning was spent snorkelling aound the rocks off the beach, where turtles grazed and swam gracefully through the currents below me, completely unfazed by my presence. Another playful sea lion joined me for a dip, and we tumbled and turned in the waves, while he showed off his speed and amazing underwater skills which were much superior to mine. When I reluctantly left the water to return to the yacht, he watched on, disappointed that his play mate had gone.
In the afternoon we visited a lake where mocking birds hopped near my feet, and a sole flamingo stood in the water against a perfect backdrop of a volcano. Writing this, it is hard to convey the sense of amazement and wonder I was filled with, seeing these amazing islands and the incredible creatures which inhabit them.
Arriving back at Santa Cruz, the evening was spent supping cocktails and playing pool, trying to recover from Land Rock, the term coined by Maeve to describe the feeling that the ground was still moving beneath our feet after the choppy journey back. The cocktails helped no end...I was sad to leave the yacht and the lovely people I met, but had an amazing time which was filled with moments I will never forget.
Thursday and Friday were sent on Santa Cruz, relaxing, visiting the Charles Darwin Research Centre where I saw Lonesome George (who`s not really so lonesome, with his two girlfriends), eating way too much ice-cream, sketching pelicans on the pier, catching up with my journal and meeting up with Katrina, Suren and Sven for dinner.
What an incredible three weeks these have been.
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