Due to how the flights are scheduled, traveling from the west coast of the United States to Galapagos (or vice versa) will result in a long layover in Ecuador. I left San Francisco at the crack of dawn and flew all day, first to Miami, then to Guayaquil, the largest city in Ecuador. By the time I made it out of the airport and to my hotel (which was included as part of the Travelzoo package), it was about 9:00 in the evening and I was exhausted, even though I did nothing all day except sit in chairs and stand in lines. Perhaps spending a large portion of the day reading Fear and Loathing left me mentally hungover after imbibing too much literary mescaline and ether. I had just enough energy to order room service, shower, set my alarm, and pass out.
The next morning I grabbed a quick breakfast and a ride back to the airport. Even though the islands are part of Ecuador, traveling to Galapagos is similar to traveling to another country: there are immigration and customs checks (and a couple entry fees). Airport security was delightfully un-American though; I didn’t have to remove my shoes, hoodie, or belt, didn’t have to present my baggie of liquids, and I don’t think I even fully emptied my pockets. By conservative estimates, it took me about thirty-seven seconds to go through security, start to finish. To be fair, I don’t think Ecuador has a problem of terrorists traveling to the Galapagos Islands. I’ve never heard of an extremist group declaring jihad over the foreign policies of blue-footed boobies.
The flight to Galapagos from Guayaquil is only two hours and I was surprised that it was such a large plane (a 737). For some reason, I had it in my head that I’d be on a smaller aircraft, but in retrospect I clearly wasn’t considering that the islands are a popular tourist spot, both for Westerners and Ecuadorians. After the plane landed and we all went through immigration and customs, I was quickly ushered onto a very crowded coach by one of the Red Mangrove staff members. A hot twenty-minute bus ride got us from the airport (which is on the island of Baltra) to the Itabaca Channel, which separates Baltra from the island of Santa Cruz. The channel is only 400 meters wide (at its narrowest point) and water taxis shuttle people back and forth all day. I was already sweating through my t-shirt, which was to become a common theme for the week.
After crossing the channel, we took a half-hour taxi ride through Santa Cruz to get to Puerto Ayora, the largest town and tourist hub of Santa Cruz (and all the islands, for that matter). All the taxis on the island are white Toyota pickup trucks and it’s very common to see locals (often mothers and their children) hailing these taxis on the side of the road. (And by “the road”, I mean the one road on the island.) Road safety laws appear to be somewhat lax in the Galapagos, which means the truck bed is fair game for passengers. The drive through Santa Cruz was very peaceful: lots of very lush, green plant life everywhere, interrupted occasionally by small towns, individual houses, or workers clearing brush from the side of the road. (Interesting side note: gasoline in Galapagos, and Ecuador in general, is $1.50 a gallon.)
After reaching the lodge, the other guests and I checked in, dropped our bags off at our rooms, and grabbed some lunch on the back patio, which overlooks the water and serves as a small, unofficial home for various species. Iguanas lay out on the deck all day long, crabs scurry over the rocks by the water (and scurry across the water itself, which is quite a sight), birds dive bomb into the water to catch fish, and two seals (a mother and her child) have commandeered the far end of the deck, including the blue patio furniture.
The patio was the location of a lot of my good photos because iguanas and seals make such perfect photographic subjects: they’re novel, visually interesting, and don’t move around a lot, even when people get close to them.
After the photo shoot, a few of us met with Juan, our Galapagos naturalist guide. Visitors are not allowed to visit most of the islands without being accompanied by an official guide, so Juan would become our new friend for the next few days. We spent the rest of the afternoon at Garrapatero Beach, which was perfect for sunbathing and swimming.
On our way back to the lodge, we stopped off at a part of town that is set up for fisherman returning to shore with their daily catches. At about 5:00 every day, the fisherman unload their fish and cut them up, much to the intrigue of seals, pelicans, tourists, and even locals. The seals and pelicans beg for (or try to steal) scraps while snapping at one another. One of the little girls takes it upon herself to hose down the animals in an attempt to placate or instigate them (I’m not sure which). All the while, tourists circle around, shooting away with their cameras (myself included). It’s a fishy battle royale with media coverage.
