Hola good folks,

Here we go again, was feeling pretty smug for being up to date after my last entry but I´ve now managed to neglect the blog writing for over a month.

Now down in Quito, Ecuador. Got back here yesterday from from an amazing two weeks in the Galapagos to the news about Christchurch`s earthquake. Thinking of everyone back home.

Was just about to drag myself away from the Carribean coast for the Colombian Andes last time round. Thirty hours of busing got me to the tiny mountian town of El Cocuy, on the edge of the Parque Nacional Natural El Cocuy, a huge remote area of rugged snow capped mountains with some of the highest peaks in Colombia. I had seen some photos in Medellin and couldn´t resist paying a visit. The town of El Cocuy sure wasn`t on the tourist route, in my two days there the only other tourist I met (in fact the only person who spoke any english) was a French paraglider. Really felt like a genuine glimpse of life in the Colombian mountains.

After stocking up on supplies and signing in with the park office, I hitched a ride on the dawn lechero (for those lacking my natural easy fluency in Spanish that`s a milk truck). In contrast to the shiny Fonterra tankers this lechero was a 50 year old, open-sided wooden decked truck that crawled the mountain roads each day collecting milk for the local cheese factory. With most of the farmers haveing no more than a handfull of cows, we picked up the morning´s milk, steaming on the road side, from an incredible variety of buckets, urns and pots. This was then efficiently dumped into big plastic barrels on board with a liberal amount of splashing that left my backpack with a distinctive milky aroma by the end of the week. Got dropped off at the first of the big valleys running into the park where an hours walk had me at the cabañas. Left my gear there planning to return in the evening. Coming from sea level to 4000m and carrying all one´s worldly possesions uphill in the early morning chill was either stategy for rapid acclimatisation or a recipe for a heart attack. Continued up, breathing slightly easier without my gear, heading for El Pulpito del Diablo/The Devils Pulpit, a huge block of rock surrounded by snow fields at 5200 metres. Made it up there eventually, though at times my pace was ridiculously slow and even taking a few steps had me panting furiously. Halfway up stumbled across a wild cat on the track that glared at me while I snapped a couple of photos before looping off into the moraines. Didn´t think too much of it at the time but on getting back to civilisation showed it to some locals who proceeded to get highly excited and insist I take it to the National Parks Office. They were equally excited and took copies of the photos before explaining it was a super rare `tigrillo` that´s only been seen in the park a handful of times. I definitely felt the oblivious tourist that day.

Another few days riding the lechero and exploring the park had me slowly acclimatising to the point where I was able to keep a steady pace with becoming totally breathless. Staying in some great little villages and homesteads where I was a tall, funny-looking novelty for the local kids. After a month hanging with other gringos on the coast my spanish got some much-needed practise to the point where I was again feeling OK with basic conversations. Was real cowboy country with everyone riding horses even the smallest children.

Final day decided to have a go at climbing Ritacuba Blanco, the highest in the park at 5330m. After a slow start in the Lechero, got going late morning with 2000m to climb. Was feeling relatively good and after a quick bite to eat continued up into the snow. A hour later thick cloud blew in and visibilty was about a metre. By three thirty I was still a couple of hundred metres from the top and the cloud was still hiding the (appparently) stunning views I´d come to see, so reluctantly turned around and made a dash for the cabañas before dark. Made it just as the sun disappeared in time for a hot meal and a good sleep before hitching back to ´town´ and jumping on a night bus bound for Bogota.

My usual disorganised self, I arrived in Bogota at four in the morning lacking anywhere to stay. After being dropped by taxi on the dark empty streets and being turned away by the night wardens at half a dozen hostels I was thinking how easy it would be for someone to come up and demand all of my stuff. Was really nothing I could have done. Finally found a place that didn´t have any beds but invited me to sleep on the couch until checkout later in the morning. Gratefully collapsed onto the couch for a couple of hours shuteye. Showered and feed, later that morning I was finally in a fit state for a look around town. Took a look at a few museums, the most impressive being the Gold Museum packed with 30,000 pieces of pre-colombian gold work. Incredible stuff!

Second day in Bogota caught up with Jhonny, a Bogota local from my Lost City trek who was moving to New Zealand in a couple of days to start university in Wellington. Sure is a small world. Jhonny took me for a look around the city. Saw the Plaza de Bolivar and countless important old buildings, as well as various attractions unlikely to make it onto the standard city tour. Had Colombia´s former chief prosecutor pointed out to me, drinking a coffee on the street. In addition to his official position he´s known to have been involved with the paramilitaries that were responsible for untold numbers of deaths in the countries recent conflicts. Also saw drug dealers nonchalantly peddling their wares within spitting distance of uniformed policemen. Really interesting city and after the various disparaging things I´d heard before getting there I did enjoy my couple of days there.

The next day it was off to the Bogota bus station and onto yet another bus. This time I was going back to the coffee zone and the small town of Salento where Jess, Guinny and I had spent a couple of days on our way north before Christmas. Was nice to be going somewhere that I´d been already, knowing what to expect and everything. Guinny had come down here a couple of weeks earlier and was now `working` at the La Serrana hostel while she waited for a Canadian Work visa. Notice the inverted commas around `working`, for the week I was there I struggled to see a lot of difference between how we filled our days despite the fact that I was on holiday while she was ´working´. A lot of coffee drinking, book reading with the occasional relaxed walk or game of Pass the Pigs over a bottle of rum (Pasa los Chonchos!) was all that seemed to be going on. No doubt whatever ´working´ was, it was very mentally challenging and highly physically demanding and it was only with great skill that Guin managed to perform it a manner that wasn´t obvious to us paying guests.

Almost a week of easy living in Salento before I found the motivation to hit the road again. Bused south, returning to Quito, Ecuador. Was feeling pretty sad as I crossed the border. Loved Colombia, its people and the incredible variety throughout the country. Will definitly be back one day. Plan from Quito was to head out to the Galapagos for a couple of weeks of extreme ecology geeky-ness amongst the islands´ famous plants and animals. Three days and a large pile of cash later I had flights and an eight day island cruise booked along with a few days free to explore on my own. A two hour flight and I was walking out onto the baking tarmac of the Baltra Island airport, camera battery fully charged and memory cards empty in anticipation, but feeling a little out of place amongst the khaki-clad, greying, dorky-hat wearing crowd. I´m not stereotyping (well maybe just a little) but they did all looked pretty much identical.

Had a couple of nights in the biggest of the islands´ towns, Puerta Ayora, checked out some of the nearby beaches and various attractions nearby. Saw my first iguana on one of the tracks near town and went a bit overboard taking his photo from every angle imaginable only to walk another hundred metres and stumble onto a brilliant white beach where the only other beachgoers were dozens more iguanas (along with a handful of pelicans and boobies). Camera got a real workout then.

Puerta Ayora was an interesting little town, totally focused on catering to the two hundred thousand tourists who visit each year. Souvenier and teeshirt shops took up at least half of the streets along the waterfront. I managed to restrain myself from indulging any shopping urges, not even cracking when seeing the hilarious and brilliantly clever teeshort with the phrase ´I LOVE BOOBIES´ blazed across the front. That was feat self control. A bit more expensive than the mainland but not too much so. The one money-saving tactic I had to employ was only buying watermelon instead of bottled water. Tough but just one of those sacrifices that have to be made.

Was back to the airport a couple of days later to meet the group for the boat trip. Sixteen of us in total with a strong German contingent, while the USA, Switzerland, Bolivia and France where also represented. Suprisingly, there was very little khaki on show amongst us and the average age aboard our boat, the Floreana, must have been barely half that of any of the other cruise boats. Must have been something to do with the price catogory our boat fell into. Suited me just fine!

Not going to bore anyone with a blow by blow account of the whole trip but indulge me just a little bit...

With eight days and seven nights onboard, our intinerary was to take us around the southern islands of the archapelago; North Seymour, Baltra, Santa Cruz, Floreana, Espanola, San Christobel and Santa Fe. Was looking like a busy few days ahead! First day was packed with a visit to a stunning deserted beach, a great snorkel in brilliant tourquise water and a gentle wander along the shore spotting iguanas, flamingos and seabirds. The rest of the trip followed much the same theme, it really was a blur of beaches, snorkelling and watching wildlife at ridiculously close range. Between excusions we had plenty of time for relaxing on deck and working through the boats library (not to mention the tough job of enjoying three delicious cooked meals a day).

Was really like you image the Galapagos should be (or how I did anyway). The wildlife lacked any sort of fear of people so that you spent your time stepping around (or over) all sorts of feathered, furry and scaly things on the beaches and tracks. Probably the most numerous inhabitants of the islands were the the iguanas, especially the marine version. On every rocky outcrop they could be found plastered shoulder to shoulder and often atop one another soaking up some rays under the equatorial sun. When occasionally they did decided to move it was often straight into the sea, regardless of the surf crashing against the rocks. Bizarre to see big lizards happily swimming along the shore, tail flicking back and forward, legs hanging limply by their sides. Even more strange to be snorkelling and see them clinging to rocks under the surface muching away on seaweed!

Our guide Victor, had been guiding throughout the Islands for nineteen years and knew them inside out. On a first name basis with some of the critters we met, there wasn´t a question he didn´t have an answer for. A popular sundeck activity was compiling lists of ´Victor Quotes´ (the things you do to pass the time on boat). Here´s the top five, these are things you can say at any time, anywhere in the Galapagos, and chances are they will make sense.

Victor Quotes

1. ``Look at the boobies!´´

2. ``Look, two males fighting! They´re very territorial you know´´

3. ``How lucky you are...´´

4. ``Wow! What a good day yes?´´

5. ``I´m sorry... get back on the track please´´

... so maybe you had to be there. Sure had us in hysterics everytime another Victor Quote was used (roughly even two minutes).

The underwater life was equally if not more impressive than everything going on above the surface. Through the eight days we swam with countless turtles, sea lions (both friendly little guys and grumpy old males), rays, a pod of bottlenose dophins, Galapagos penguins, reef sharks (and a tiger shark that cruised by at one point) as well as billions of tropical fishes. Water was fantastically clear and provided much needed relief from the heat above water.

All too soon the eight days was up and it was time to say farewell to the team. Most people hopped straight back on a plane and jetted back to the mainland with a handful of us staying on for a bit longer to explore on our own. Was strange getting off the boat and not having Victor and the boats brass bell directing our daily life. All of a sudden we were back in the big bad world having to decide what and when to eat, where to go and how to get there. Tough decisions. Took a fast ferry to Isabela Island, the biggest and most volcanically active of the Galapagos islands, to see some what we might find there. Sure enough it too was teeming with life. Loads of penguins, land tortoises, sea lions and more iguanas. Took it at a slightly more relaxed pace after the busy week aboard the Floreana, so managed a bit of time to just enjoy the sun and the beach. Spent a day up the Sierra Negra volcano while on Islabela. With a crater 10kms across its the second largest caldera on earth. Very impressive a good spot for getting an idea of how the islands all came about.

One final night in Puerta Ayora where I again resisted the temptation of the `I Love Boobies´ teeshirts hanging in every shop window before relunctantly flying back to Quito. Visiting the islands will definitely be on of highlights from South America for me. Thanks mum and dad for helping me get there.

So now back in Quito, a bit of a shock after the Galapagos´ tropical heat but probably mild compared with Tierra del Fuego (way down the bottom of the continent) where I leave for tonight. Seen the last South American tropical beach now but no doubt more adventures await, just got to get through 35 hours of flights and stopovers including a day in Santiago and a night in Buenos Aires.

Hope everyone doing well and, again, thinking of those folk in Christchurch. Kia kaha.

Mike
...........