First off, even though we didn’t have our motorcycles, yes, we’d do this trip again just with our day-packs. Sans the motorcycle helmets and some gear. Kathleen and I discovered how vary little we actually needed for 9-weeks in SoAm. If we weren’t carrying our helmets, bike-to-bike communications system, GPS systems, and a 4-pound folder full of motorcycle ownership paperwork, we would have been traveling way light.
We each only had a couple shirts, undergarments, and pants. We also had sandals and shoes with socks. Kathleen had some thermals and a light jacket. I had my rain parka. That was all. A few books, a small laptop, and some toiletries rounded out our load. We’ll travel with the same cargo in future trips to South America.
Regarding our bikes. Kawasaki KLR650’s. Well, they are still in the cargo boxes made to haul them to Bogota, Colombia. We recently moved out of Southern California and just kept the machines in the crates for safer shipping.
What would we do differently? We would ship the bikes out of the U.S. by boat rather than by air. If, . . .if we were to ship by air, we’d go into Canada or Mexico and ship from and back into either of those countries.
Since being back in the U.S., people have asked Kathleen and I why we didn’t buy or rent motorcycles in South America to complete our motorcycle trip. You can go to any motorcycle adventure touring web/blog site to read the running debates on renting or buying motorcycles in SoAm. We questioned people in both Colombia and Ecuador about renting or buying motorcycles. Finding places to rent motorbikes is not easy because not too many of those establishments exist, . . . yet.
Buying motorcycles in South America would be feasible. China is hitting the SoAm market with ‘throw-a-way’ motorcycles which look nice, however, South Americans are finding they get about 5,000 miles out of them before things go catastrophically wrong, requiring nearly the cost of a new bike to fix. SoAm bikes cost roughly $3,000 or less, but, the biggest you’ll find will have a 250cc engine. Furthermore, riding the bike across borders would be an added challenge. Both Colombians and Ecuadorans lamented neither country likes having the others’ purchases passing through. This can provide added hassles at borders along the way. Finally, once the trip is over, what to do with the bike? This was a biggy. In the case of Kathleen and I – bikes. Below are some considerations. All take some time – and remember: Kathleen and I only had 9-weeks.
The first, and simplest, is just walk away from the bikes. Chalk them up to the cost of the trip. Ride them to the airport and leave the keys in the ignition. Both Kathleen and I had a huge problem with this idea for a multitude of reasons.
The second, is sell the bikes when we’re through. People told us we’d be better off selling the bikes by returning the vehicles to the country where they were purchased.
In many SoAm countries, you cannot sell a vehicle purchased from another Latin American country. Legally, you can only sell the motorbike in the country of purchase.
Okay, third. Take the bikes home with us. Again, time would be a problem with exiting a SoAm country with such a purchase, as we don’t know what kind of tariffs and subsequent hassles would be laying in wait for us in the U.S.
All these options can be explored more in-depth, however, the simple matter is, the trip would be so much better on our very own motorcycles that we’ve been riding in the States for assorted adventures. We had been toiling away for hours preparing the machines for the trip; which was all part of the adventure! Furthermore, any motorbike purchased in a foreign country would have to be modified to haul all your stuff. Not a problem if you’ve only got day-packs. A problem if you’ve brought a bunch of camping gear. Remember too, that 250cc engine. So, we’ll be doin’ the BYOM (Bring Your Own Motorcycle) the next time we ride South America.
Final note about South America.
Go! You don’t need to sign-up for a tour. Get on-line, buy an airfare, take a taxi, ride a bus, and end up in some little town where you’ll sit on the plaza watching the going’s on wondering why the hell ya haven’t done this sooner.
Barrowing a phrase for a tourism poster in Colombia. “The only risk is not wanting to leave.”
Go!
Giddy up
Kathleen and Don
Thursday, February 25, 2010
January 25 – We’ve got birds here
Our last night in South America was quiet. Kathleen and I had our room in Hotel Sebastian, Quito until 2pm check-out time. I worked on the blog while Kathleen re-organized our belongings for the flights back to the U.S. We would fly out of Quito to Panama City, and then on to Los Angeles.
Around noon, Kathleen and I went to a restaurant for our last meal in South America. As we ate we looked outside and saw a couple with their backpacks walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. They were looking about with faces of awe. They were just starting out. Good for them!
By 1:30pm we were checking out. We were only charged $104 for our palatial suite! Actually, the room was $75; the taxes jacked the price to $104.
In the air terminal we had little effort with security and noticed the waiting area was full of English-speakers heading home as we were. We boarded our first leg of the trip and backed out of the gate spot on time.
Our flight into Panama City was ordinary. Fortunately, we exited the plane at one gate and only had to walk across the waiting area to our next gate. However, here was where Kathleen and I knew we were bound for the U.S. We had our bags searched and received a pat-down frisking.
Panama City to Los Angeles was another uneventful flight. We arrived in LAX where the Customs officer asked why we were in South America. “To look at birds”. “We’ve got birds here” was his reply. To that, Kathleen and I almost responded harmoniously, “Not like anything down there”. The grandfatherly gentleman smiled and nodded in agreement as he handed back out passports.
We stepped outside the LAX terminal and noticed the stark difference in temperature. Only 10-hours earlier we had been experiencing equatorial temperatures in the 80’s. Now, at 12:30am on January 26th, we in the lower 50’s waiting for a shuttle to Kathleen’s mothers’ house. Our trip was over.
Around noon, Kathleen and I went to a restaurant for our last meal in South America. As we ate we looked outside and saw a couple with their backpacks walking down the sidewalk hand-in-hand. They were looking about with faces of awe. They were just starting out. Good for them!
By 1:30pm we were checking out. We were only charged $104 for our palatial suite! Actually, the room was $75; the taxes jacked the price to $104.
In the air terminal we had little effort with security and noticed the waiting area was full of English-speakers heading home as we were. We boarded our first leg of the trip and backed out of the gate spot on time.
Our flight into Panama City was ordinary. Fortunately, we exited the plane at one gate and only had to walk across the waiting area to our next gate. However, here was where Kathleen and I knew we were bound for the U.S. We had our bags searched and received a pat-down frisking.
Panama City to Los Angeles was another uneventful flight. We arrived in LAX where the Customs officer asked why we were in South America. “To look at birds”. “We’ve got birds here” was his reply. To that, Kathleen and I almost responded harmoniously, “Not like anything down there”. The grandfatherly gentleman smiled and nodded in agreement as he handed back out passports.
We stepped outside the LAX terminal and noticed the stark difference in temperature. Only 10-hours earlier we had been experiencing equatorial temperatures in the 80’s. Now, at 12:30am on January 26th, we in the lower 50’s waiting for a shuttle to Kathleen’s mothers’ house. Our trip was over.
January 24 – Not a suspicious person
Kathleen and I can definitely recommend Hotel España, Puerto Ayora, Galapagos. Decently priced ($30/night) with air-conditioning that drowned-out what little noise occurred. The television had 3 channels in English.
We were told that we had to take a taxi to the main terminal outside Puerto Ayora to catch a bus to the airport – okay, the ferry to Isla Baltra which supports the airport. By 6:30am we were waving down a taxi to take us to the airport. We arrived at the bus terminal in minutes and $2 poorer.
In the bus terminal we fell-in behind the line of folks purchasing their tickets for the bus idling outside. What are the odds? Just as we got to the window, a man standing behind the women taking the money, said the bus was now full. Immediately, the man said we needed to take a taxi to the ferry crossing. I’m not a suspicious person, however, I did note that the people previous to us in the line were all locals. Kathleen asked the man, in Spanish, when the next bus would arrive. He said in 20-minutes, but we should take a car; meaning taxi. Kathleen asked the question differently. Can we take a bus to the ferry crossing. Yes, replies the man. When is that bus? “In 20-minutes . . . you take car” (in Spanish).
Kathleen and I got wary. A bus, for 80-cents/person, is to arrive in 20-minutes, yet we’re to take a taxi for $3-$4. Kathleen and I went outside to wait for the next bus. As time passed more people arrived. Gringos at that. They got the same response from the man: Bus will be here in 20-minutes, so you need to take a car. He would never say taxi. Be wary of the man in the brown shirt and white pants in the photo below.
The woman who had been behind the window appears. Two young ladies arrive from town via bus. Hey, wait, Kathleen and I were told to take a taxi. The two young blue-eye blonds walk up to the man as did everyone else. In Spanish, they asked the man about the next bus and got the standard line about the bus is coming, but take car. Then, they asked the woman who had been behind the glass earlier. Kathleen over heard her say the bus will arrive soon; Don’t take the taxi. Ah-ha!! Turns out she was the person who would collect the fare from people on the bus.
As we waited for the bus to arrive, the two blond-haired ladies told us they were Argentineans. For the bus and ferry ride, Kathleen and I chatted with these ladies who spoke nearly accent-less English. Turns out, two different buses leave from Puerto Ayora. One goes direct to the ferry crossing, another goes to the bus terminal. They missed the one to the ferry, so they caught the one to the terminal. Additionally, not looking like typical South Americans, both ladies confided they too often receive different information than that provided to locals. Frequently, this information meant they would pay more for something. As did Kathleen and I, the ladies suspected the man at the bus terminal was looking out for his taxi driving buddies.
After the ferry ride and a short bus trip, Kathleen and I arrived at the airport and joined the line trailing from the TAME (Línea Aérea del Ecuador) counter. I know, the acronym doesn’t match. Go to Ecuador to find out why. We’ll have to go back to determine why ourselves.
Our flight was to leave at 10:30am. The time was 8:40am. Should have plenty of time.
People. As with any country on Earth. Someone in the queue ahead of you has got to have some issue. Sure enough, a young man, his frizzy-haired wife, and their multiple children had some kind of problem. And of course, only one person was checking people in. Sigh.
Kathleen and I stood with other the other people in line for over an hour before the young man and his group finally departed from the counter – the line seemed to move steadily now. While waiting, Kathleen and I were sticking close to the people ahead of us because as people behind us got antsy, the cutzies began. If I were any closer to the woman ahead of me we would have shared the same pants.
Our flight to Quito was full. Kathleen and I were seated apart from each other, however, the flight was only an hour and forty minutes. We arrived in Quito and went to the Hotel Sebastian to check-in and retrieve our motorcycle helmets and other items we had the hotel store.
Again, we scored a suite!! Great, as our flight to Los Angeles was not until 4pm the following day. Kathleen and I went out for a walk about Quito and to find some dinner. We again instantly noticed the lack of hustle and bustle as the holiday season had passed and the city was far less hectic.
We returned to our room to enjoy our accommodations for the evening. Here Kathleen is Skipe-ing back to the States.
We were told that we had to take a taxi to the main terminal outside Puerto Ayora to catch a bus to the airport – okay, the ferry to Isla Baltra which supports the airport. By 6:30am we were waving down a taxi to take us to the airport. We arrived at the bus terminal in minutes and $2 poorer.
In the bus terminal we fell-in behind the line of folks purchasing their tickets for the bus idling outside. What are the odds? Just as we got to the window, a man standing behind the women taking the money, said the bus was now full. Immediately, the man said we needed to take a taxi to the ferry crossing. I’m not a suspicious person, however, I did note that the people previous to us in the line were all locals. Kathleen asked the man, in Spanish, when the next bus would arrive. He said in 20-minutes, but we should take a car; meaning taxi. Kathleen asked the question differently. Can we take a bus to the ferry crossing. Yes, replies the man. When is that bus? “In 20-minutes . . . you take car” (in Spanish).
Kathleen and I got wary. A bus, for 80-cents/person, is to arrive in 20-minutes, yet we’re to take a taxi for $3-$4. Kathleen and I went outside to wait for the next bus. As time passed more people arrived. Gringos at that. They got the same response from the man: Bus will be here in 20-minutes, so you need to take a car. He would never say taxi. Be wary of the man in the brown shirt and white pants in the photo below.
The woman who had been behind the window appears. Two young ladies arrive from town via bus. Hey, wait, Kathleen and I were told to take a taxi. The two young blue-eye blonds walk up to the man as did everyone else. In Spanish, they asked the man about the next bus and got the standard line about the bus is coming, but take car. Then, they asked the woman who had been behind the glass earlier. Kathleen over heard her say the bus will arrive soon; Don’t take the taxi. Ah-ha!! Turns out she was the person who would collect the fare from people on the bus.As we waited for the bus to arrive, the two blond-haired ladies told us they were Argentineans. For the bus and ferry ride, Kathleen and I chatted with these ladies who spoke nearly accent-less English. Turns out, two different buses leave from Puerto Ayora. One goes direct to the ferry crossing, another goes to the bus terminal. They missed the one to the ferry, so they caught the one to the terminal. Additionally, not looking like typical South Americans, both ladies confided they too often receive different information than that provided to locals. Frequently, this information meant they would pay more for something. As did Kathleen and I, the ladies suspected the man at the bus terminal was looking out for his taxi driving buddies.
After the ferry ride and a short bus trip, Kathleen and I arrived at the airport and joined the line trailing from the TAME (Línea Aérea del Ecuador) counter. I know, the acronym doesn’t match. Go to Ecuador to find out why. We’ll have to go back to determine why ourselves.
Our flight was to leave at 10:30am. The time was 8:40am. Should have plenty of time.
People. As with any country on Earth. Someone in the queue ahead of you has got to have some issue. Sure enough, a young man, his frizzy-haired wife, and their multiple children had some kind of problem. And of course, only one person was checking people in. Sigh.
Kathleen and I stood with other the other people in line for over an hour before the young man and his group finally departed from the counter – the line seemed to move steadily now. While waiting, Kathleen and I were sticking close to the people ahead of us because as people behind us got antsy, the cutzies began. If I were any closer to the woman ahead of me we would have shared the same pants.
Our flight to Quito was full. Kathleen and I were seated apart from each other, however, the flight was only an hour and forty minutes. We arrived in Quito and went to the Hotel Sebastian to check-in and retrieve our motorcycle helmets and other items we had the hotel store.
Again, we scored a suite!! Great, as our flight to Los Angeles was not until 4pm the following day. Kathleen and I went out for a walk about Quito and to find some dinner. We again instantly noticed the lack of hustle and bustle as the holiday season had passed and the city was far less hectic.
We returned to our room to enjoy our accommodations for the evening. Here Kathleen is Skipe-ing back to the States.
Friday, January 29, 2010
January 23 – Shove the Galapagos Fur Seal
Kathleen and I had stayed at Hostal Gardner again and found we most definitely liked Hotel España better. Much quieter and better amenities for the same price. Their Wi-Fi worked better, too. We booked our last night in the Galapagos at Hotel España.
Kathleen and I planned to do very little today. We thought about kayaking but found rentals to be expensive - $28 for two hours. This Marine Iguana didn't need no stinking kayak.
We took a water taxi across to Las Crietas which was a part of Puerto Ayora we hadn’t visited yet. 
The suburb of the Pto. Ayora was the home of the Finch Hotel which is arguably the ritziest accommodations in the Galapagos. 
Kathleen and I were thinking a room went for $200/night. The teal here were enjoying a clean swim.
We walked along a trail leading to a large crack in the lava flow making a saltwater swimming hole. Here we found people enjoying a dip and dive in the pretty clear water.
Back in the main part of Puerto Ayora, Kathleen and I walked about and watched fishermen filet some fish with a few moochers waiting for a scrap. Occasionally, the guys would have to shove the Galapagos Fur Seal as they would a large dog trying to move the beast out of the way.
After dinner Kathleen and I strolled out to the main pier which is lit with green and blue lights directed at the water. This pelican was taking advantage of the lights attracting fish. Kathleen snapped this shot at an ISO of 3200.
Our last night in the Galapagos was a quiet one.
Kathleen and I planned to do very little today. We thought about kayaking but found rentals to be expensive - $28 for two hours. This Marine Iguana didn't need no stinking kayak.
We took a water taxi across to Las Crietas which was a part of Puerto Ayora we hadn’t visited yet. 
The suburb of the Pto. Ayora was the home of the Finch Hotel which is arguably the ritziest accommodations in the Galapagos. 
Kathleen and I were thinking a room went for $200/night. The teal here were enjoying a clean swim.
We walked along a trail leading to a large crack in the lava flow making a saltwater swimming hole. Here we found people enjoying a dip and dive in the pretty clear water.
Back in the main part of Puerto Ayora, Kathleen and I walked about and watched fishermen filet some fish with a few moochers waiting for a scrap. Occasionally, the guys would have to shove the Galapagos Fur Seal as they would a large dog trying to move the beast out of the way.
After dinner Kathleen and I strolled out to the main pier which is lit with green and blue lights directed at the water. This pelican was taking advantage of the lights attracting fish. Kathleen snapped this shot at an ISO of 3200.
Our last night in the Galapagos was a quiet one.
January 22 – Bartolome Island, Galapagos
A bus came by at around 5am and we boarded for our boat trip to Bartolome Island northeast of Santa Cruz Island, Galapagos. We drove from one hotel to another picking up saggy-eyed folks who probably realized the night before they had to rise so early.
We headed for the small port in Canal de Itabaca between Santa Cruz and Isla Baltra. Upon arriving the sun was just making a showing. We boarded a wooden hulled and framed vessel that made me think of the African Queen in the movie with Humphrey Bogart and . . . oh, never mind.
Kathleen and I went top-side as the boat began to chug from harbor. And I do mean chug. Kathleen could have swum faster. Jeepers! Your dog could have!!
By 7am we were puttering out toward the Islands of Daphne Major and Minor while having breakfast of eggs, ham, cheese, and toast.
Kathleen and I could see some bird life flying over the sea, however, we could only identify things to general family. The Magnificent Frigatebirds were easily identifiable at any distance.
As the morning wore on, we began to make out details of our destination. Bartolome Island is one of the most photographed of the Galapagos Archipelago. Bartolome is situated next to the much larger Santiago Island which has had some volcanic activity in the last 200 years.
By shortly after 10am we were joining a number of other vessels who were visiting Bartolome. The National Geographic ship Endeavor was parked in the small bay. Kathleen and I marveled at the ship and recalled receiving brochures for Galapagos tours aboard this same ship.
The cost of our entire two month South American trip would still not equal the price for one of us aboard the NG Endeavor. Our 57-foot boat is also pictured.
We took a small dingy over to Bartolome for a hike to the summit of the island.
Our guide, Alberto, periodically gave brief lectures in both Spanish and English describing what we were seeing in geology and evolution. 
The views from the highest point of the island were great. The peculiar rock formation jutting skyward is actually a volcanic neck. 
The magma hardened in the throat and the softer material of the cone eroded away. The two dark colored mounts to the left of the picture here were once surrounded by water. 
An eruption on Santiago in 1893 created a lava field that encompassed the islands and added roughly 5-square miles to Santiago Island.
We dingy’d back to our homely but trusty boat and prepared to storm the beach of Bartolome with snorkeling gear. Our snorkeling was pretty good as Alberto spooked up a White-tipped Shark that was roughly 6-7 feet long. Kathleen and I also followed along with a Galapagos Penguin. We had never had such experiences before.
Back aboard the Homely, uh, well, our boat, we had lunch consisting of some type of tasty fish, rice, and French fries. Upon completion of lunch we got underway back to Santa Cruz island. The seas had become rough and our vessel swayed back and forth. A wind was laying a broadside making excellent lift for Magnificent Frigatebirds to just glide along on nearly a 5-foot wingspan.
These birds are aptly named as, in the days of pirates and their use of frigates to swiftly move in and steel from other ships, Magnificent Frigatebirds do the same. The birds are deft fliers and can swoop in to pluck a fish from a pelican’s beak, or will pursue a seabird until they regurgitate their food they’ve collected for nestlings. Most of the time they glide effortlessly for hours on the slightest breeze.
I found Kathleen talking to El Capitan in the wheel-house.
He owned the boat and worked a number of such daily charters for much of the year. Like many Ecuadorans we talked to on the Galapagos, he had been living on the islands for over 20-years. As his engineer went to check on the engines, which had gotten uppity earlier causing us to stop, I took a turn at the helm for about 20-minutes. Keep her just west of Daphne Major at 133 degrees.
As we approached Daphne Major, Alberto talked about the couple who were conducting research on the island. Kathleen and I suddenly realized just how significant this football stadium sized island was. This is the island where Peter and Rosemary Grant are studying a finch which does not migrate on or off the island. 
Their into their thirtieth-some-odd year of study and are actually documenting evolution happening in the finches on Daphne Major. They’re findings indicate evolution can happen within a species or subspecies faster than previously thought in anything other than viruses. The couple live on the island for several months a year catching, measuring, and observing the finches. Their accommodations aren’t much more than a few tarps for shade and a couple dozen jugs of water and buckets to store food.
Passing by Daphne Major, Canal de Itabaca was soon in sight. By 7pm we were back on the bus headed for Puerto Ayora. We had a great trip and wished we had time to visit Seymour Island where we could walk among nesting seabirds. Perhaps another time.
We headed for the small port in Canal de Itabaca between Santa Cruz and Isla Baltra. Upon arriving the sun was just making a showing. We boarded a wooden hulled and framed vessel that made me think of the African Queen in the movie with Humphrey Bogart and . . . oh, never mind.
Kathleen and I went top-side as the boat began to chug from harbor. And I do mean chug. Kathleen could have swum faster. Jeepers! Your dog could have!!By 7am we were puttering out toward the Islands of Daphne Major and Minor while having breakfast of eggs, ham, cheese, and toast.
Kathleen and I could see some bird life flying over the sea, however, we could only identify things to general family. The Magnificent Frigatebirds were easily identifiable at any distance.
As the morning wore on, we began to make out details of our destination. Bartolome Island is one of the most photographed of the Galapagos Archipelago. Bartolome is situated next to the much larger Santiago Island which has had some volcanic activity in the last 200 years.By shortly after 10am we were joining a number of other vessels who were visiting Bartolome. The National Geographic ship Endeavor was parked in the small bay. Kathleen and I marveled at the ship and recalled receiving brochures for Galapagos tours aboard this same ship.
The cost of our entire two month South American trip would still not equal the price for one of us aboard the NG Endeavor. Our 57-foot boat is also pictured.We took a small dingy over to Bartolome for a hike to the summit of the island.
Our guide, Alberto, periodically gave brief lectures in both Spanish and English describing what we were seeing in geology and evolution. 
The views from the highest point of the island were great. The peculiar rock formation jutting skyward is actually a volcanic neck. 
The magma hardened in the throat and the softer material of the cone eroded away. The two dark colored mounts to the left of the picture here were once surrounded by water. 
An eruption on Santiago in 1893 created a lava field that encompassed the islands and added roughly 5-square miles to Santiago Island.We dingy’d back to our homely but trusty boat and prepared to storm the beach of Bartolome with snorkeling gear. Our snorkeling was pretty good as Alberto spooked up a White-tipped Shark that was roughly 6-7 feet long. Kathleen and I also followed along with a Galapagos Penguin. We had never had such experiences before.
Back aboard the Homely, uh, well, our boat, we had lunch consisting of some type of tasty fish, rice, and French fries. Upon completion of lunch we got underway back to Santa Cruz island. The seas had become rough and our vessel swayed back and forth. A wind was laying a broadside making excellent lift for Magnificent Frigatebirds to just glide along on nearly a 5-foot wingspan.
These birds are aptly named as, in the days of pirates and their use of frigates to swiftly move in and steel from other ships, Magnificent Frigatebirds do the same. The birds are deft fliers and can swoop in to pluck a fish from a pelican’s beak, or will pursue a seabird until they regurgitate their food they’ve collected for nestlings. Most of the time they glide effortlessly for hours on the slightest breeze. I found Kathleen talking to El Capitan in the wheel-house.
He owned the boat and worked a number of such daily charters for much of the year. Like many Ecuadorans we talked to on the Galapagos, he had been living on the islands for over 20-years. As his engineer went to check on the engines, which had gotten uppity earlier causing us to stop, I took a turn at the helm for about 20-minutes. Keep her just west of Daphne Major at 133 degrees.
As we approached Daphne Major, Alberto talked about the couple who were conducting research on the island. Kathleen and I suddenly realized just how significant this football stadium sized island was. This is the island where Peter and Rosemary Grant are studying a finch which does not migrate on or off the island. 
Their into their thirtieth-some-odd year of study and are actually documenting evolution happening in the finches on Daphne Major. They’re findings indicate evolution can happen within a species or subspecies faster than previously thought in anything other than viruses. The couple live on the island for several months a year catching, measuring, and observing the finches. Their accommodations aren’t much more than a few tarps for shade and a couple dozen jugs of water and buckets to store food.Passing by Daphne Major, Canal de Itabaca was soon in sight. By 7pm we were back on the bus headed for Puerto Ayora. We had a great trip and wished we had time to visit Seymour Island where we could walk among nesting seabirds. Perhaps another time.
Monday, January 25, 2010
January 21 – A fine dose of humidity
Our day started early again as we were voyaging back to Santa Cruz Island. We enjoyed staying on Isabela Island and the town of Puerto Villamil, Galapagos. However, we had to catch the shuttle boat at by 5:30am for a 6am shove-off.
Fortunately the shuttle boat ride back was with fewer people and much calmer waters. We arrived in Puerto Ayora around 8am. Just in time for breakfast.
We checked into the Hotel España and quickly realized we liked this hotel over the Hostal Gardner next door. For $30/night we got a fan and air-conditioning. And the place was pretty quiet, thus far.
Kathleen and I took the day pretty easy with a hike out to Tortuga Bay via a brick path that was nearly 2 miles long.
The day was good and hot with a fine dose of humidity.
We found Tortuga Bay a nice stretch of beach.
The Galapagos Mockingbirds would periodically flit about foraging on the stone path.
We returned to our room early as yet again the next day was going to start early with a trip to Bartolome Island.
Fortunately the shuttle boat ride back was with fewer people and much calmer waters. We arrived in Puerto Ayora around 8am. Just in time for breakfast.
We checked into the Hotel España and quickly realized we liked this hotel over the Hostal Gardner next door. For $30/night we got a fan and air-conditioning. And the place was pretty quiet, thus far.
Kathleen and I took the day pretty easy with a hike out to Tortuga Bay via a brick path that was nearly 2 miles long.
The day was good and hot with a fine dose of humidity.We found Tortuga Bay a nice stretch of beach.
The Galapagos Mockingbirds would periodically flit about foraging on the stone path.
We returned to our room early as yet again the next day was going to start early with a trip to Bartolome Island.
January 20 – Creatures of habit
Kathleen and I had signed-up for a guided tour to Volcano Sierra Negra and Chico de Isabela. Both had erupted within the last 30 years; Volcano Sierra Negra in 2005. We rose early to join the tour before the next eruption.
We joined the party of adventurers who were on the horseback riding option of the trip. Others were on the hiking only option (we learned later this was over ten miles round trip in mud for $5 less). Our guide strongly recommended to Kathleen and I that we should pay the $2/person for rubber boots. We thought about this for a moment and figured why not?
Via shuttle bus, we took a nicely paved road up to a parking area shrouded in the drizzly fog of a cloud forest. Here we found a small herd of trusty steeds waiting.
The hiking group started out. Kathleen and I tugged on our rubber boots as a caballero herded the horses off up the trail. Uh, wait. Aren’t we to be on the horses? Well, no. A detail our guide eventually provided was that the trail from the parking area was too treacherous to travel by horse. We were to hike for a mile or better before mounting-up.
Within a quarter mile, Kathleen and I realized the rubber boots were the best purchase we had made on the trip! The horse traffic coupled with the constant drizzle had created a rutted muddy slog for a trail.
Additionally, horses aren’t particular where bladder and bowel movement events occur. Add that to the mud. The rubber boots were well worth the price of rental.
We slogged our way to the staging area for mounting-up on the horses.
I picked out a pony and mounted up. Kathleen was having trouble directing her horse to move on to the trail. I dismounted and broke one of the first rules of horsemanship when riding an unfamiliar horse. I didn’t hold on to the reins of my horse. I went over to Kathleen’s horse and tugged the animal to where Kathleen wanted. I then went over to my horse who instantly began walking away. With every attempt to catch the beast, the horse trotted further up the trail. For roughly a quarter mile the horse and I both trotted. I tried catching the devious equine. I finally got ahead of the horse who wheeled about and headed back down the trail, eventually running into the rest of the mounted travelers. Kathleen managed to get a hold of my horse. I promptly mounted-up. Don’t ever drop the reins of a horse you don’t know.
We rode horse-back for the next couple miles at a pace most people on crutches could hold.
Our animals were creatures of habit. Horses, subjected to a daily routine for months on end will staunchly adhere to that program. They get saddled; go rider-less to a point; haul a rider from point A to point B; stand around at that point; haul a rider back down to a point; and then goi rider-less to the stable. Any deviation from that routine will require considerable brute force, a whip, or electroshock persuasion. I tried the former to no avail.
Our ride was shrouded in a dense wet fog. Somewhere along the western edge of the trail was a crater 5½ miles by 6 miles and nearly a thousand feet deep. Volcano Sierra Negra. The largest active intact caldera on Earth, having provided a significant erupting in 2005. In contrast, Ngorongoro crater is 14x12 miles and nearly 2,000 feet deep; making the African volcanic formation the largest intact caldera on Earth.
We dismounted our horses and continued on up the trail. As we topped over the shoulder of the unseen crater, we started down the east side wear the environment went from damp, cool, and cloudy, to hot, dry, and sunny. Here, we hiked along a basaltic rock path discovering our rubber boots were just shy of the experience of walking barefoot on sharp stones.
Volcano Chico de Isabela erupted in 1979 complete with lava flows down to the ocean. Here we sat and absorbed the views. 
Since the eruption, time and weathering has provided little evidence of the eruption except for areas where no vegetation exists. 
Wait about a hundred years for a sprout or two.
When we returned to our horses, the fog had lifted providing a view of Sierra Negra. 
What a vast lava field in a punch bowl! Kathleen and I would have enjoyed sitting on the rim and gazing into the caldera, however, we had to go. 
A down-side of organized tours is the constant goading to get going.
Back in the saddle again, our mounts had a new found vigor. They were eager to go! This phenomenon is called being ‘barn sour’. Part of the programming in a creature of habit, such as a saddle horse, is their understanding that the sooner you get to the point where the rider gets off, the sooner you get to trot back to the stable, equating to the sooner you get the saddle taken off and no human bothers you. We nearly galloped down the trail along the rim of the now exposed crater.
Our horses suddenly stopped at a non-descript point. One of the caballeros came up and directed us to dismount as this was where we were to walk due to the treacherous trail conditions. We dismounted, and the whoosh of air that rushed past us was filling the vacuum left by the horses who nearly broke the sound barrier as they continued down trail.
Kathleen and I walked down to our waiting van which arrived back in Puerto Villamil by about 4pm. Kathleen and I showered and did laundry in the sink. This was becoming routine for us.
After a brief walk along the beach, we had dinner at the same place furnished with plastic patio furniture. A tidy meal, and then bed.
We joined the party of adventurers who were on the horseback riding option of the trip. Others were on the hiking only option (we learned later this was over ten miles round trip in mud for $5 less). Our guide strongly recommended to Kathleen and I that we should pay the $2/person for rubber boots. We thought about this for a moment and figured why not?
Via shuttle bus, we took a nicely paved road up to a parking area shrouded in the drizzly fog of a cloud forest. Here we found a small herd of trusty steeds waiting.
The hiking group started out. Kathleen and I tugged on our rubber boots as a caballero herded the horses off up the trail. Uh, wait. Aren’t we to be on the horses? Well, no. A detail our guide eventually provided was that the trail from the parking area was too treacherous to travel by horse. We were to hike for a mile or better before mounting-up.Within a quarter mile, Kathleen and I realized the rubber boots were the best purchase we had made on the trip! The horse traffic coupled with the constant drizzle had created a rutted muddy slog for a trail.
Additionally, horses aren’t particular where bladder and bowel movement events occur. Add that to the mud. The rubber boots were well worth the price of rental.We slogged our way to the staging area for mounting-up on the horses.
I picked out a pony and mounted up. Kathleen was having trouble directing her horse to move on to the trail. I dismounted and broke one of the first rules of horsemanship when riding an unfamiliar horse. I didn’t hold on to the reins of my horse. I went over to Kathleen’s horse and tugged the animal to where Kathleen wanted. I then went over to my horse who instantly began walking away. With every attempt to catch the beast, the horse trotted further up the trail. For roughly a quarter mile the horse and I both trotted. I tried catching the devious equine. I finally got ahead of the horse who wheeled about and headed back down the trail, eventually running into the rest of the mounted travelers. Kathleen managed to get a hold of my horse. I promptly mounted-up. Don’t ever drop the reins of a horse you don’t know.We rode horse-back for the next couple miles at a pace most people on crutches could hold.
Our animals were creatures of habit. Horses, subjected to a daily routine for months on end will staunchly adhere to that program. They get saddled; go rider-less to a point; haul a rider from point A to point B; stand around at that point; haul a rider back down to a point; and then goi rider-less to the stable. Any deviation from that routine will require considerable brute force, a whip, or electroshock persuasion. I tried the former to no avail.Our ride was shrouded in a dense wet fog. Somewhere along the western edge of the trail was a crater 5½ miles by 6 miles and nearly a thousand feet deep. Volcano Sierra Negra. The largest active intact caldera on Earth, having provided a significant erupting in 2005. In contrast, Ngorongoro crater is 14x12 miles and nearly 2,000 feet deep; making the African volcanic formation the largest intact caldera on Earth.
We dismounted our horses and continued on up the trail. As we topped over the shoulder of the unseen crater, we started down the east side wear the environment went from damp, cool, and cloudy, to hot, dry, and sunny. Here, we hiked along a basaltic rock path discovering our rubber boots were just shy of the experience of walking barefoot on sharp stones.
Volcano Chico de Isabela erupted in 1979 complete with lava flows down to the ocean. Here we sat and absorbed the views. 
Since the eruption, time and weathering has provided little evidence of the eruption except for areas where no vegetation exists. 
Wait about a hundred years for a sprout or two.
When we returned to our horses, the fog had lifted providing a view of Sierra Negra. 
What a vast lava field in a punch bowl! Kathleen and I would have enjoyed sitting on the rim and gazing into the caldera, however, we had to go. 
A down-side of organized tours is the constant goading to get going.
Back in the saddle again, our mounts had a new found vigor. They were eager to go! This phenomenon is called being ‘barn sour’. Part of the programming in a creature of habit, such as a saddle horse, is their understanding that the sooner you get to the point where the rider gets off, the sooner you get to trot back to the stable, equating to the sooner you get the saddle taken off and no human bothers you. We nearly galloped down the trail along the rim of the now exposed crater.
Our horses suddenly stopped at a non-descript point. One of the caballeros came up and directed us to dismount as this was where we were to walk due to the treacherous trail conditions. We dismounted, and the whoosh of air that rushed past us was filling the vacuum left by the horses who nearly broke the sound barrier as they continued down trail.
Kathleen and I walked down to our waiting van which arrived back in Puerto Villamil by about 4pm. Kathleen and I showered and did laundry in the sink. This was becoming routine for us.
After a brief walk along the beach, we had dinner at the same place furnished with plastic patio furniture. A tidy meal, and then bed.
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