welcome to santa cruz, and the most incredible day ever. (bienvenido a santa cruz, y el dia mas increible.)

Our first day on Santa Cruz was... hectic. And worrisome. And exciting. And relieving. We may have experienced the full spectrum of basic human emotion within a span of an hour. Let me explain.

After the ferry ride, we arrived on the island and promptly checked into our hotel, a nice little gem set back from the road, hidden among some trees and foliage. After a brief lunch, we decided to smooth out some odds and ends. We explored the main streets of Puerta Ayora and familiarized ourselves with the area. But we had some business to take care of, too, so, being the responsible people we are (ha!), we decided to square that away before anything else. That ended up being the best decision of the entire trip.

Some background: Some of Ashley's classmates were planning on taking a daytrip with us to an uninhabited island named Bartolome ("Bartholomew"), which is near Santa Cruz. The coordinator for Ashley's program made reservations for 5 at our request, and things were set for Sunday. Lo and behold, due to improper planning, the other three weren't able to come. They told us the day before we left for Santa Cruz (they would have had to come there with us, as the trip would leave from there incredibly early, and they're on San Cristobal). Thankfully, Ashley's coordinator assured us that we’d have a spot as long as we made a deposit by Friday, which is when we were going to arrive on Santa Cruz. We had hoped her coordinator would have confirmed things with the agency over the phone (she speaks fluent Spanish, much better than Ashley or me), but since she told us we could make the changes ourselves, we figured it would be ok. All was well.

Unfortunately, it didn't quite work out that way. When we stopped over at the travel agency to make the deposit, we were informed that we s hould have called to confirm the reservation on Thursday. Our seats had been given to someone else, and the boat was full. What about other days? we asked. We weren’t leaving until Tuesday, and this was the single thing we really, really wanted to do (you’ll see why in a moment). Any trips on Saturday? Or Monday? Anything?

No. They were all full.

The woman apologized, but reiterated that it was our fault. After I clumsily spilled my soda on her desk (nothing was damaged, thankfully), we left the agency. Current emotional state: angry, disappointed, worried. Angry that Ashley’s coordinator hadn’t confirmed things for us like we had asked. Disappointed and worried that this trip wouldn’t happen.

Because Puerto Ayora’s main road (Avenida Charles Darwin) is a tourist hub, there was a travel agency behind every-other storefront. We stopped in agency after agency, using my fumbling Spanish to ask about trips on Saturday, Sunday or Monday for a reasonable price—we had expected to pay $85 per person on the Sunday trip.

But everything was full. They were calling boat after boat asking if there were any seats left. There were none. We imagined that each agency was calling the same boats, and our hope was slowly but steadily devolving into despair. We finally ducked down a side street to try but one more agency.

After making a few calls, the man told us there was one leaving in the morning—Saturday. Our hearts started beating faster as he told us there were two spots available, but became less hopeful when he said it was a first-class boat. Ticket prices began bouncing around in my head. How much would this cost? $150? $200?

$95, he said.

$95! That’s only ten more than we had planned to spend! We worked out the deposit with them and thanked them profusely. Not only had we gotten our trip, but we had gotten it sooner, and on a better boat! For a mere ten dollars! All of a sudden, we were pretty glad the other plans had fallen through.

That night we ate some local fare on the cheap and relaxed for the evening. We had a big day ahead of us.

***

I would love to tell the story of our Bartolome trip. But these tell it better than anything I could write. The captions will serve to supplement the images of my favorite day in the Galapagos.

The boat ride was about 2 hours out to Bartolome. We met two other young people on the boat--everyone else seemed to be enjoying their retirement. One of them is a professional photographer. She was able to make this shot look great, despite the gray skies. They would clear soon enough.

This is where the boat dropped us off. We've just landed and are looking out into Sullivan Bay. Pinnacle Rock can be seen just in front of that volcano. We'll be seeing more of both of them coming up.

Lava tunnels form when molten rock moves so slowly down a slope that the top cools and hardens while the stuff underneath remains hot and liquid. Lava canals form when the lava moves too quickly to cool. These are lava canals.

One of my favorites. This was a shot from one of the stops as we climbed the hill. That's a lava cactus growing out of lava rock, with the Pacific behind it.

That's only about a third of how far we walked. And that part wasn't uphill.

The entrance to a small lava tunnel. This one i s only about 3 feet wide. Days later, we'd see a much, much bigger tunnel. Photos of that to come.

Frame of reference. Some of these craters were huge.

Finally. This i s what we had come t o see. This isthmus can be seen on thousands of postcards and any Google Image Searches of the Galapagos that you might perform. Pinnacle Rock and Sullivan Bay are off to the right, the volcano we spoke of earlier in the background.

Remember that photographer friend I mentioned earlier? Turns out, she brought her own camera. A really nice camera. And she offered to take our pictures with it, and email it to us. She made good on her word, and below is my favorite photo of the trip (cropped just a little). I'll be lucky to ever get another one like this again.



The trip didn't end there. We snorkeled (successfully this time!!) and swam, we ate lunch on the boat (a big step up from what we would have gotten on the other boat), and napped on the way back to the island. That evening we h ad a nice dinner at The Rock, an American-style restaurant on the main drag, and relaxed again. it was a long day, but an incredible one.

***

OK, ok, I can't finish this post without these pictures. Enjoy.

Galapagos penguins! I swam with some! Not these particular ones... but their buddies around the corner. I also swam with rainbow fish, a turtle, saw a white-tipped shark and swam away from a baracuda. These guys were my favorite.

My blog's namesake. Blue-footed boobies on Pinnacle Rock!

Alright, that's all for this post. Up next: the Charles Darwin Research Station. It was incredible. Hopefully posting tomorrow.

our last day on san cristobal. (nuestro dia ultimo en san cristobal.)

My last update post left off with the run to La Loberia and a breakfast of batidos, coffee and bananas. Well, that ended up being a pretty incredible day.

When Ashley was finally out of class, I had picked up the burgers and we began our trek to Frigate Bird Hill, named for the birds who live there. The evening before we had begun to walk the path we would spend the afternoon on, and I was in sandals that night. Thinking we had walked about half the path, I wore my sandals again. That was a bad idea. We had maybe walked about 1/5 of the path that evening, and things got rougher and rockier from there, far too difficult terrain for a $10 pair of sandals purchased two years ago in Hungary. But alas, such were my conditions. And I had to deal with it. (Days later, Ashley would very delicately remove small pebbles from my heel with her tweezers. The pebbles belonged on the trail, not in my foot. I didn't wear my sandals much after that.)

Despite the discomfort, the trail was beautiful. Some highlights from the walk:

A practice cannon used in World War II by the Ecuadorian Armed Forces. As far as I know, this never saw military action. Note the sandals.

A giant statue of Charles Darwin, joined by statues of a tortoise, a lobo, and behind him (and out of sight), an iguana. I'm in the photo as a frame of reference. The thing is huge. Note the rocks.

A view of Frigate Bird Hill from our path. We ended up on top of that after finishing the path and finding the stairs.

A view of the bay from the top of the hill. That little cove on the left was to be my first ill-fated attempt at snorkeling. Without fins, I was floundering. My excursion lasted maybe a minute and a half, but I would be more successful in future endeavors. Still, I've swum in this water.

Pensive. Lost in thought. How... existential. (Seriously... that water seems to never end.)

The lobos always take the good spots. Because of these guys, we had to find a different rock from which to jump into the water. Oh well. They looked comfy.

Out of place chronologically, but this is one of my favorites and a good one to end on. Ashley and I at a lookout on our way up the path. Behind us: the Pacific.

Even though snorkeling didn't quite work out how we had planned, I can say I tried, and things got better in the water the next time. But what a day. Another incredible experience in the Southern Hemisphere.

home and tired. (en hogar y cansado.)

What a trip.

So many stories, so many photos, so many things to share. I hope to add a post each day, if I can, until the pictures and anecdotes have been exhausted. Expect a post later on today, and likely one tomorrow.

Thanks for stopping by, and please stay tuned.

photos, finally. (las fotos, finalmente.)

Below are (finally) a few photos from the trip thus far. This is all San Cristóbal stuff; Santa Cruz is tomorrow, Bartólome is Sunday. I'm not sure if I'll be able to blog past today, so enjoy these pictures just in case I can't post any more until I return home.

The view from the flight; landing in Baltra.

Lobos greet you at the pier on Baltra island. It's always nap time, it seems.

Saw these guys at the Galápaguera.

Puerto Chino, a tiny little cove on the southern coast of San Cristóbal. This was my first excursion into the Pacific Ocean.

Ashley's street. Her house is the one all the way to the right, cut off, with the blue on the ground floor. On the horizon: the Pacific. Ashley is on the left.

On the left, a lobo. On the right, a lobo pup. Relaxing on lava rocks at La Lobería.

Dude's chillin'.

...Dude's chilin'.

a quick update. (un actualización rápido.)

Since my last post was more observational and less narrative, here's a quick update as to what Ashley and I have been up to.

Yesterday was another full day. Thankfully, we managed to sneak in a nap between all the chaos, and there was less adventure, but I was able to see more of her life here and experience things as she does. After lunch (another delicious meal--they've all been incredible here), we relaxed for a while and dozed off, after which we packed our things and moved over to the hotel we're staying in. It's called Casa Blanca (white house), and I'd link you, but it's a small, locally-owned place and is without a web site. It's easily the most beautiful and creative place I've ever stayed, and has the most character of any hotel I've seen. Each room is themed after an island here--ours is the Floriana room, which Ashley hand-picked because Floriana is known for its blue-footed boobies (pictured, right, dancing) and she knew that I was really looking forward to seeing those. It's painted beautifully, all done by hand by the owner, Jackie, and her young daughters. The room is just off a balcony with a view of the pier and the bay. It's small, but never feels cramped. It's perfect.

After we moved in, it was off to the speakers (mentioned below). Then we walked along a path toward a beach until it grew too dark to proceed. We returned to the hotel and left for dinner, a high-end restaurant owned by the parents of one of Ashley's classmates (the only local/native in her program, I believe). The food, of course, was incredible. I had beef loin in a mushroom sauce, which was covered with fresh diced tomatoes, chopped green peppers, chopped onions and, of course, mushrooms. It came with rice and french fries. Ashley ordered the fish cevicha, a very popular dish here. It was like sushi, only the fish is "cooked" in lime juice--while it never touches the grill, the acid from the fruit essentially cooks the fish. This was served in sort of a clear broth with lots of vegetables (again onions, peppers, tomatoes, etc) and two slices of lime on the side, which we used for more garnish. Talk about flavorful. These dishes had my tongue dancing. Of course, we couldn't eat our meal without some fried plantains with cheese, and Ashley got a small side salad to boot (and there was no lettuce in the salad!). This was all served with some fried plantain chips on the side. Top it off with some coffee and a bottle of water and the entire meal cost us barely $20. And that's top-notch San Cristóbal living.

After dinner we were hoping to dye Ashley's hair and head out to meet her friends at a bar, but the hair project took longer than we expected (as usual) and we ended up conking out around 1:30 this morning. Now we're up, fulfilled after a morning run to La Lobería (a beach named for its sea lions), a quick on-the-run breakfast of a banana, batido and coffee, and soon it will be off to lunch on the beach, right when Ashley's out of class. Speaking of which, I have to go pick up the hamburguesas (con queso, of course).

Hoping to post pictures this afternoon when Ashley takes her test! I keep forgetting my camera's cord, but I'll pick it up and upload today. Check back later!

between ecology and prosperity. (entre ecología y prosperidad.)

There's a lot more to this place than one expects.

It's surprising just how much I'm learning about the Galápagos in the few days that I'm here. Last night I attended two short lectures that Ashley needed to see for class. One was a guard for the Galápagos National Park, another is a professor at Ashley's school who is a former director of the Charles Darwin Research Station. As much as I appreciated both talks, the professor spoke to us about tourism and ecological conservation, and I thought that was just fascinating.

Consider this predicament: About 30 years ago, tourism began to boom here. Back then, fishing was the primary industry, and prosperity on the island was directly linked to respect for ecological balance--don't overfish, and all of the villages will be able to eat for years. But as the islands became more popular tourist spots, immigration increased. Now, only about 20% of the people who live here are native to the islands. That means 4 out of 5 "locals" are actually from elsewhere. They have a connection to the islands, sure--this is their home. But they don't have the same connection that the natives do.

This changed things. More immigration meant much more fishing and a larger ecological footprint, and that depleted the ocean's resources. Thus, in the past few decades, fishing has suffered where tourism has flourished. Now, many of the beaches and coasts are built up with hotels and souvenir shops. Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, the village I've stayed in for the past few days and the capital of Galápagos province, remains small and humble, but an observer can see how it's tried to become more of a destination than a home--there is constant construction virtually everywhere, with the beautiful building facades by the pier concealing the one-room shanties and dirt roads only blocks behind them.

There is a plus-side, though. There are regulations in place that require hotels and other businesses looking to profit from the prime location and unique nature of these islands to at least have some sort of partnership or professional connection with a local person or business. That was put into place to ensure that people here are not exploited for the profit of, say, US-based hotel chains or European cruise lines. And while the intentions are noble and at least somewhat effective, corruption and back-room deals have had a tendency to sully the industry.

The new locals, though--that 80% who migrated here--don't seem to mind much that tourism has become so large. And many of the natives likely don't, either. After all, tourism has brought jobs, jobs have brought money, money has brought electricity, telephones and wireless internet connections.

But tourism is a fickle industry. Whereas fishing, when done properly and with respect for an ecological balance, is a relatively sustainable market, tourism is reliant on good weather, effective marketing and advertising, and local resources (particularly labor). One small change can influence an entire island here. Example: The airport in San Cristóbal is under construction right now, which is why I had to fly into Baltra, the only other commercial airport on the archipelago. That's also why I had to take such a long, difficult ferry ride (which was incredibly easy, by local standards--my ride took only 2 1/2 hours, Ashley's took four and most of the passengers were seasick). You might imagine that a 4-hour boat ride through Pacific waves is not all that enticing to your average tourist. Thus, most take the short ride to Santa Cruz or the larger 500-person cruise ships around the islands. So Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, and San Cristóbal in general, are missing out on lots of tourist cash right now because their airport, usually the primary airport here, is closed. You can bet that they eagerly anticipate the day it re-opens.

On an early morning run to La Lobería today, Ashley and I passed the airport. It's just on the edge of town, separating a humble civilization from the parks and reserve where wildlife roam free. Even at 7am men were working hard to bring that place to life. When you exit that airport, you can take a right, head past the dig site and go about a mile down the dirt road to the coast, where many lobos and finches spend their days. Or you can take a left and head down the same dirt road, which eventually turns to pavement, and in about a mile or so you'll be amidst hotels, cafés, bars, restaurants and shops.

If you take that right, you'll see more of what the Galápagos once was and, in many ways, still is--pristine, protected, isolated, pure. But the livelihoods of some 8,000 people now depend on you taking that left.

the first day and some observations. (el primer dia y algunos observaciones.)

Man... yesterday was awesome.

After Ashley was finished with school, the two of us hopped a taxi (which was a pickup truck) to the southeast corner of San Cristobal. In true Ecuadorian fashion, we sat in the flatbed and watched the countryside go whizzing by. We left the city's sanctuary for rolling hillsides and muddy dirt roads. In order to get to our destination, we had to ride up through the highlands and back down the other side, which took us through plenty of fog (really, it was low clouds) and gave us some breathtaking views of hills and valleys, and a couple of glimpses of the ocean.

The taxi dropped us off at the Galapaguera, a tortoise reserve. We were planning on walking the trail on our own, but a man who jumped in our cab just a few meters from our destination ended up being a guide, so he walked us through the park and told us about the tortoises, foliage and birds there. We saw the breeding station and some tiny tortoises, the oldest of which was about 2 1/2.

After observing some huge (and slllooooooowww) tortoises there, it was off to the lookout. We climbed scores of wooden stairs to a hilltop, where we ate lunch overlooking the Pacific. Cameras and binoculars came in handy here. And after we were comfortably satiated, we took a walk a few yards further up the hill to the lighthouse that graced its summit. Its ladders were only too inviting.

Climbing the lighthouse took us probably 15 minutes or so (Ashley has a fear of heights!), but in a sudden rush of bravery, we made it to the top for an even more incredible view of this corner of the island. Rocky coast, lush green growth, a single path to a single sandy beach--we knew where to head next, and Ashley led the way.

After the 20-minute walk down the hill and over the rocky path, we had finally made it to Puerto Chino, a tiny cove set between short black lava cliffs. A quick change and we were in our bathing suits and shorties (rashguards, or surf shirts). The water was cool, but Ashley assured me it had been much colder only weeks ago. And this swim was incredible. The water was a pure green from afar, but entirely clear when we were in it. The tide was low but beginning to come in, and we didn't have much time to swim (our taxi was returning about 45 minutes after we made it to the beach, and the last thing we needed was to be left stranded, alone, in the dark and miles from home). We did see a small family of three turtles swimming only feet from us, and were about to try to get a little bit closer when we saw what at first looked to be another turtle, but turned out to be a sting ray. We decided that was a good time to leave the water.

Just before taking off for our sprint back to where the taxi would meet us, we explored a small cave where the lobos (sea lions) live--thankfully, they must have been on an errand at the time. We also observed a bunch of lava crabs, which were invisible at first because they are the EXACT same shade of black as the rocks. It sort of terrified me when I saw the first one, because that was when I noticed the hundreds of them climbing all over the place!

We made it to the pickup point 10 minutes after we'd said we'd be there, and worried that the taxi had left without us. We had just begun to walk toward the closest town when the cab driver came around the corner, offering us an intense sense of relief.

The drive back was scarier than the drive up--more fog, less sun, and we were beat. But back in town was a waiting shower and some more delicious food. This time the meal included homemade ice cream (creamy black raspberry with some sort of fruit syrup on top), and the daughter of the host mom who was feeding us ended up quizzing us gringos on our Spanish skills. We did alright.... but still have lots to learn, it seems.

The day wore us out. It was another early night, but I'm excited to head out to a bar with Ashley and her friends to watch Ecuador take on Peru in a World Cup preliminary soccer game--definitely a part of the culture I can't wait to experience.


On an observatory note...
Reflecting back on my trip, it's amazing I didn't become overwhelmed. If you think about it, with every step of my journey, my vulnerability increased exponentially. Think about it like this:

• Boston: Alright, I'm in Boston. I work here, I go to school here, I lived here for a summer, I'm very comfortable here. No big deal. Any problems arise, I'm not far from home.


• Miami: OK, so I'm pretty far from home, but I'm in an airport, and I know airports pretty well. I won't be here for very long, and I have service with my phone, so things aren't so bad. I'm actually pretty well adapted to this sort of situation. On to the next city.


• Quito: Things are getting a little more complicated. Now I'm in South America, in an unfamiliar city, and I know nobody here. Phone's not working now, and here I am, fresh out of the taxi, standing with my luggage in front of a house that may or may not be the right one. Nobody's answering the door, it's 10:30 at night, and the taxi just drove off. Oh, and hardly anybody here speaks English. Uh oh.


• Baltra: Just landed in the Galapagos, my phone is definitely not getting any service, I'm on a rocky island and there is no way for me to contact anyone if something goes wrong--I miss my boat, the bus breaks down, a storm rolls in, etc. I have money with me, but have no idea what to do with it if something happens. There is nothing here; this place is full of tumbleweeds that haven't yet broken root. Not a good place to be stranded.
  


• Ferry to San Cristobal: I'm on an 18-person ferry--basically a private boat--motoring along among 6-foot swells in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. I am the only one who speaks English. I am trusting that the captain and his mate are honest men. There is nothing but water on every horizon as far as the eye could see. Welcome: you've reached the pinnacle of vulnerability.

Thankfully, everything worked out just fine. This gives me tons of confidence for the trip back, but now's not the time to think about that. I have islands to enjoy.


Photo update:
I'm hoping to upload some photos tomorrow morning. Sorry! Patience, friends, patience.