November 26th-28th 2014
I wake up the next morning unsure of just what we’re going to do. We all meet for breakfast at that same lovely second story restaurant and start planning the day, settling on the idea of getting a taxi or two to take us along one of the main roads of the islands with a beach known as Puerto Chino as our last stop.
At first we’re hopping to all climb into one of the pick up trucks but police patrols mean the drivers won’t allow this, which definitely ups the cost of our trip. Eventually we end up heading back to that second story restaurant and having the owner call us two taxi’s. Hailed from the street they wanted 60 dollars a car, but he manages to get us two for 90 dollars. Or ten dollars each. Definitely a good value.
We pile into the car, and our driver drives quickly out of town. Surprisingly the roads on San Cristobal are perfectly paved for a far sight longer than those on Santa Cruz. San Cristobal is an island a little newer to thee full brunt of Galapagos tourism, but from all I can see it’s doing quite well. As we drive I find myself wishing I’d booked my flight out of Cristobal, saving me the trouble of heading all the way back to Santa Cruz and further on to Baltra airport.
After maybe 40 minutes in the truck our driver pulls off the main road at our first stop. We’re well and truly in the highlands now, and the barren coastal landscape is long gone, replaced with rolling green hills bordering on mountains. As we pile out of the truck we find a take a closer look at a row of windmills on the hilltop opposite us. Apparently they generate between 40 and 50 % of the energy used on San Cristobal.
Without waiting for our second car of people we turn around and start climbing up a long winding boardwalk leading us towards the top of what was a volcano many thousands of Millenia again. Now it’s turned into a lagoon. Bird life abounds in the caldera below us and as we crest the crater we hear some calls from the second half of our group just a few minutes behind. We join up and delight in the flying frigates and pelicans who zoom around the caldera which is encircled with thick vibrant green plants.
As we start to circle the caldera some of the misting clouds which until now have obscured our view begin to clear away, leaving us with stunning panoramic views of the distant coast down below the rolling hills of San Cristobal’s highlands.
As we circle the hilltop I find a narrow path through the undergrowth and can’t help but go exploring. It only gets narrower the deeper we go and we’re it not for our drivers waiting below for us I would have kept exploring to see if I could have reached all the way down to the water in the lagoon.
As we near the end of our circle we come across a strange sign with no righting on it. Luckily for us Sean is a knower of all things and explains that the screen before is designed to collect moisture out of the air. the humidity trickles down the screen and collects in a big white container below. The more you know.
After taking a group selfie (hooray for go pro’s) we hurry back down to the waiting trucks and take off again, eventually passing a construction crew working on paving the rest of the road and continuing along gravel for the next half hour until we descend out of the highlands and come to the end of the road.
We’re directed by our friendly driver to walk along another boardwalk to get to the beach. Ten minutes later we’re staring at a small problem. A big group of sea lions, some of them male, are camped out at the end of the boardwalk under some small trees, barring our path to the beach. Seeing no other choice we advance with some caution. The fearsome beasts raise their heads and snort as they regard us, but do eventually let us pass.
What we walk out onto is a truly stunning white sand beach, so white it almost blinds my tender eyes, especially when contrasted with the deep blacks of the volcanic rock on either side of it, and the perfect electric blue of the Ocean. There’s a handful of people on the beach, but not enough to spoil the raw natural beauty of the scene.
We quickly drop off our belongings up the beach and hurry to join the second half of our group who are already in the water. Since it’s San Cristobal there are plenty of Sea lions to be seen over on the rocks, though not many of them are swimming. The waves are rolling in roughly, obscuring any chance of snorkelling in the shallows but I force my way out past them and while I find next to nothing in the waters I do find four blue footed boobies up on the rocks at the edge of the point. This excites some of the others as they’ve yet to see Galapagos’ second most famous mascots.
As I return closer to shore we spot a single sea turtle but it’s lost in the waves before I can get close. That said as I leave the waters behind I notice a very large female Sea lion going in. With a little enticing, she’s happy to play in the water, though it’s too rough for the best of videos.
After we’ve saved some Ecuadorian’s belongings from the rising tide half our group leaves, there driver much more stressed over time than ours. We take the opportunity to quickly climb out to the point to get a better look at both the beach and the boobies. It’s worth the effort and both the birds and landscape are stunning, even after all I’ve scene.
That done we head quickly back along the board walk, finding an alternate entrance further from the Sea Lions which seemed to have multiplied blocking our way out. We hurry back in the ever growing heat to our truck for our last stop of the day, a treehouse of all things!
W’ere welcomed by a friendly husky and then it’s up into the treehouse which costs 1.50 if my memory serves me. It’s cool and massive and definitely a testament to the Galapagos people’s enterprising Nature, but it’s certainly the least special of the three stops. For anyone interested you can sleep in the treehouse for 20 USD per person. The highlight of this stop though is definitely the magnum ice cream bar and fresh baked banana bread.
From there we head back into town and focus on booking tomorrows activity, a snorkelling trip to kicker rock, supposedly one of the best snorkelling and diving spots in the Galapagos, and one last chance to try to see Hammerheads, one of the last two species I’d hoped to set eyes on, the other being the land tortoises in the wild. Booking the trip is made more complicated by that fact that 6 or 8 of our 9 person group is planning to take the 3 pm boat to Santa Cruz. In the end we essentially end up chartering our own boat to leave early with the promise we’ll be back in time for the three pm boat, a promise that is only somewhat fulfilled. The cost 75 USD per person.
This done we all head down to a pier to watch the sunset before heading to a lovely local restaurant where we get a full meal of fish rice plantains and juice along with soup for 4 dollars. Then, after a wander through town for morning supplies and late night ice cream, it’s back to Hostal Albatross, the intention being an early night.
Much to my dismay, when we return I realize I’ve locked my key in my room. We’re all prone to moments of idiocy now and then but you’d really think after almost a year and a half on the road I’d be past this. Apparently not. I go and knock quietly on the door of the family who runs the place and am greeted with a smile and much laughter. She gathers a mighty handful of keys and joins me at my shut door.
It quickly becomes clear that none of the keys are made for my lock, but she seems confident that they will magically open the door anyway. After half an hour of trying she gives up and shows me to another room, promising to have it opened the next day. Only problem is I’m only half packed and had been planning to bring my bag to the travel agency in the morning and they’d bring it to the 3pm boat. Alas plans always change.
I fall asleep easily enough in my other room and wake up on time without an alarm, a skill I am certainly honing as I travel. I wait out front of the hostel and eventually the few of us who are on time head over for breakfast at our friends second story restaurant. From there we’re down to the travel agency to get flippers, masques, and wetsuits for most. They seem surprised when I refuse one but accept it and soon enough we’re off to the pier.
Things start to go a little sour as we wait a good long while before a boat shows up that looks entirely different than what we’ve been sold on. It’s a tight squeeze, especially when 3 people join our trip who weren’t in our group. It’s just one of those things though and while some people grumble I let it slide past knowing that we weren’t paying for the boat, we were paying for the snorkelling opportunities.
45 minutes sees us arrive at kicker rock.
Once again I endure the spiel of snorkelling only with the group and then we’re into the water. First impressions are often deceiving, as the clarity where we first leapt in was far from perfect. That quickly changed as we entered one of the many channels running through the rocks. I could go on and on with words, but this entries long enough as is, and I’ve got to make that go pro purchase count for something. The videos are in order of amazingness in my opinion, so if you’re only going to watch a few watch the first one.
So, at this point I’ve had one unfilmed fleeting glimpse of hammerheads now, enough to send my heart racing down to my toes at the sheer size of the creatures. I was the only one lucky enough to witness them in the first 75% of the snorkel, stretching the limits of the words with the group having paid off again.
I will bore you with a brief paragraph on what happens next. We we’re about to exit the narrow channel between the rocks but I once again let myself fall behind the group, eventually finding an eagle ray and stealthily following. Suddenly the water below me cleared and almost without realizing it I was directly above a group of 6 hammerhead sharks, and one galapagos shark (another new species for me.). The video is sadly feint but watch closely and just know that the sheer size of these creatures sets your heart to racing faster than I’ve experienced since being with the tigers in Thailand. Here’s the video.
From kicker rock we head to a small isolated white sand beach. The group is mostly boys and by some stroke of luck Paul and Maddie have found a soccerball under their bed at hostal Albatross. So, rather than lounge on the beach, we set up some sticks and get a game going. The captain of our boat, our guide, and the diving instructor all getting involved. My team lost but I did manage to make a few decent saves and passes and didn’t humiliate myself too much against a bunch of europeans and Ecuadorians, so i’ll count that as a win. The game ends with everyone drenched in sweat and covered in sticky sand.
Once it’s time to leave making sure it’s all been washed off proves to be quite a task, especially with my still open and weeping wounds. I’ve bought some anti infection cream back in town and have finally started seeing progress, the cuts on both hands only hurting when irritated or stretched, unlike the past few days where it’s been 24 hour pain.
From the beach we head back to kicker rock for another snorkel. Of course there’s a few videos here again in order from best to worse.
One of the Canadian Chris’ has the good luck of spotting a single hammerhead for a brief instant but it’s gone before anyone else can find it, leaving us as the only two snorkelers lucky enough to see the baffling and definitely awe inspiring creatures of the deep. Before too long we’re called back into the boat and trapped in a race against time as we speed back towards the town.
We get there at 2:59, 29 minutes later than we were promised.
Everyone’s bags are there at the pier, minus mine of course. The others promise to hold the boat for me as I sprint (well Luke sprint) The two blacks to my hostel. The proprietor is cruel enough to shake her head and frown when I ask if they’ve gotten the room open and waits a long second before breaking down into laughter and handing me a key.
I don’t think I’ve ever packed so quickly, and yet by some miracle I don’t leave anything behind and in a matter of maybe 90 seconds I’m back out the door running for the pier as best I can while weighed down by my two backpacks. I really have to start packing lighter.
I get there, hailed by a local and am sped through the security check only to find my friends gone. My heart sinks but quickly rises as I am herded into an 80 cent water taxi and sped out into the deeper water s of the bay, where I find my boat puttering out to sea, giving me a chance. Hoping onto the moving boat takes a little skill which I somehow manage with both bags and then do my best to apologize to the 30 or so people I’ve inconvenienced with my stupidity. I’m met only with smiles.
The waters are stunningly cam, but I only find one dolphin in the distance. Looking back I’d gladly have traded rougher waters for a repeat of the performance I witnessed on the way to San Cristobal.
We arrive in Santa Cruz and I make friends with a nice American girl from Arizona on the water taxi to the pier. She ends up leading me to a 10 $ dorm a few blocks from the pier, and I’m very sorry but I cannot recall the name of the place but it’s on he corner of Thomas de Berlanga, one block right from Avenue Baltra.
The group of us split up briefly but everyone reconvenes a few minutes later and I lead them back to the marketplace where I found the street food my first night. The sun sets and the walk takes longer than I remember but once we get there it’s instantly worth it. On top of the delicious empanadas there is an incredible station set up featuring a roast of pork in a delicious sauce with mashed potatoes and gravy. Truly delicious and an almost impossible taste of home for 4 dollars.
I skipped lunch at kicker rock for more snorkelling and it’s catching up to so I eat a serving of the pork followed by entirely too many huge empanadas which run from 75 cents to a dollar each depending on whether you choose cheese of meat. Everyone agrees it was worth the walk and I’m jealous that they’ll be able to return, my flight out in the morning seeming like a curse.
On the way back to our hostels I find a shirt I really want, a tie dye in honour of my parents with boobies all over the front of it. I’m sure they won’t have one that fits and as I’m led to the back I’m proved right, then I check the one out on display and it ends up being an Ecuadorian xxl, just barely big enough. At 15 $ I’m left with no choice. Worth the cost? What do you think?
I introduce Paul and Madi to Betty at sea moon travel before heading back to my hostel and getting some shut eye. My flights not until the afternoon but the last bus to airport leaves at 8 or 830 am, another reason I should have flown out of San Cristobal. Still as I climb on the bus with the Arizonan girl who’s also on her way back to Quito I start to reflect on my last 13 days of true wonder and awe. Galapagos was worth every penny. In fat I realize I’ve seen every species I had hopes of seeing, which is truly incredible luck, most likely thanks to my regular repetition of the booby dance.
Wait, I’ve not seen any Land Tortoises in the wild yet. As I glance out along the road I laugh, there’s one hanging out maybe 20 feet away from the bus. Checkmate Galapagos. Check Mate. You have my heart.
I leave distraught to be going, but I know that, much like the terminator. I’ll be back.
