The Arena Of The Unwell: Galapagos Islands

The Galapagos Islands were always high on my to-do list. To be honest, Ecuador was only meant to be a stepping stone to the wild, mystical lumps of volcanic rock that time kindly forgot. Spewed up in the Pacific Ocean over five hundred miles off the coast of Ecuador and galvanised in social consciousness by the insight of a certain Charles Darwin. It is perhaps only the cost which dissuades many travellers from visiting. As a "homeless" guy from London, I couldn't resist.

The flight from Quito stops off in Guayaquil to drop off some suits. Their seats are claimed by the embarking flashpackers and we refuel. Quite why the flight crew insist that I keep my seatbelt on during the refuelling remains a mystery. When we arrive on Baltra Island a couple of hours later I find myself in a glorified bike shed. The first thing I notice is a troop of nuns (what is the collective noun, anyone?) stepping off the plane. A few seconds later a thought hits me. What exactly is the purpose of nuns coming to Galapagos? Is this some kind of religious test whereby they wrestle with their conscience whilst buried up to their wimples in evidence that creationism is bullshit?

I'm here for five days with ten complete strangers on a sail boat named Encantada. Two of my shipmates step off the plane with me and we're met by our representative. We take a ferry across the canal to Santa Cruz Island and a taxi down to the main town Puerto Ayora for lunch where we meet a newly-wed couple, Danny and Sarah. They're from London and have been travelling the world for the best part of two years - that's a proper honeymoon! Our boat is due to depart at 6pm.

We spend the afternoon at the Charles Darwin Research Station, the highlight of which has to be meeting the icon of these islands, Lonesome George. At approximately 120 years old he's the last remaining giant tortoise of his species. For shits and giggles, I imagine switching the scenario around - there's me, the last man on earth, in a cage staring blankly at my laptop with a facebook friend count of zero and a pack of giant tortoises pointing at me and taking photos. Even the hardest heart is gonna be melted by George's story.

A brief aside for all you trivia junkies. The story of the Galapagos tortoises underpins Darwin's research. He realised that the islands each had different weather patterns - some are wet, whilst other dry. This dictates the height of the trees and hence how high up the fruit will be. The tortoises would adapt over time to their habitat and, on the wet islands, the shape of the front of their shell would change to allow them to reach up to the higher fruit. Evolution 101. Another one of those, same time next week.

Like other boats, the Encantada runs a mixture of five day and eight day cruises which overlap, so when the five of us newbies arrive at the boat we meet the remaining shipmates who have been at sea for a few days already. We're shown to our minuscule cabins, have dinner, get shown our itinerary for the next day and set sail while we sleep.

We awake just offshore Floreana Island, take a dinghy to the beach and head up to Post Office Bay. I pick up a letter addressed to someone in Bishops Stortford. I must admit, my personal postal service is not really worth paying for as my staff do not arrive in the UK until May and they have a habit of misplacing items en-route. From here we head to a nearby lava cave before returning to the beach and going snorkelling for the first time with sea-lions, turtles and tons of tropical fish. After lunch, we do some more snorkelling around a volcanic outcrop known as The Devils Crown where a pack of twenty eagle rays glide effortlessly beneath us. This is a definite highlight for me. We board the boat again and disembark further down the coast at Punta Cormorant. Alas, the lagoon flamingos were not present but we did get to see our first beach full of sea-lions and their newborn pups which were neat.

The seven hour overnight trip to Española Island is a bumpy affair but the puke pills are working their magic and I sleep well. Our first point of call is Punta Suarez where Marine Iguanas, Blue Footed Boobies (Fnar, fnar! Literally seconds of comedic value there), Albatrosses, Lava Lizards and a rather impressive blow-hole await. Along the coast at Gardner Bay we check out more sea-lions and snorkelling. Day three over.

The tiny Lobos Island, off the coast of San Cristobel, is our first destination the following day for more sea-lions and birdlife then back on board before heading to Santa Fe Island with its cactus forest and the awesome Frigate birds there. If you sense that I'm rattling through these at this point you'd be right. By this time four of my shipmates have been laid low by some kind sickness or other and I'm getting a little anxious that the same fate should befall me. Somewhere along the way today our paths crossed with my Baños mountain biking buddies James and Paddy who are on another boat and we arrange to hook up once back on land.

Our last, and very short, day is a ridiculously early start at North Seymour Island and we finally disembark near the airport. I've claimed a couple of extra days to chill out here before returning to Ecuador so I take bus back to Puerto Ayora and locate the outrageously cheap and well hidden Los Amigos hostel. After being a sea for a few days, I start getting the wobbles. It's a weird feeling, which is accentuated by enclosed spaces. Getting up in the night for a piss is a major achievement.

Before my Irish buddies turn up I meet my hostel neighbour, an Aussie girl named Amanda, and we head out for food at the superb street market. The next day, whilst devouring some delicious quesadillas in The Rock, James and Paddy pass right by me. By the time they've settled in at Los Amigos we've just enough time to check out the gorgeous Tortuga Bay. It's a pretty long walk but with beaches like flour and crystal clear water scattering the midday sun it's a kind of paradise and well worth it. The Marine Iguanas here seem even less bothered by our presence than is imaginable. We chill out for a bit on the beach before heading back.

I need to get up for my flight in the morning but the demon drink has other plans. We drunkenly play pool until 3am in a bar named Limón y Café on a table so bad it could double as a crazy golf course. I get a couple of hours sleep before missing the last bus to the airport. I reluctantly spunk 20USD on a taxi while my head spins in the back seat. Upon arrival at the bike shed I manage to get my bag checked in, the relief of which precedes my best attempt yet to redecorate a toilet.

So, my Galapagos box is ticked. In summary, I'm very glad I did it despite the cost but I will probably never return. I remember chatting to the Aussie girl Amanda, casually flipping out some rhetoric along the lines of "... after all, you're never gonna come back to the Galapagos, are you?". She disagreed. Perhaps I learned something important here. I'm guess I'm not that big on animals and I find the lush greens of Ecuador far more visually satisfying than volcanic grey rock, the odd cactus and the smell of fishy sea-lion excrement.

Next stop, Peru via Ecuador.

Choon of the day: The Cinematic Orchestra - Night of the Iguana