Fare Thee Well, Galápagos

It’s a bittersweet day. There’s so much to still see on these amazing islands but I’ve been away from home ten days now and the ten-day mark always seems to be the point where I’m just ready to get home.

Tomorrow I actually fly back to US soil and home so first thing this morning my priority was to knock out my COVID testing. I did a regular self-test as soon as I woke up to confirm I was in the clear before logging onto eMed and connecting with a proctor to do my official AgCard test. I struggled to get a good angle on the camera but finally the proctor was happy and my testing set. As soon as the proctor was gone and the 15-minute timer began I jumped in the shower, I’m all about being efficient with my time. I took a relatively cold shower because I couldn’t wait long enough to really get the hot water flowing (Donna had informed us that being the furthest unit from the solar water it takes some time to get hot water) and that helped me make it quick. With a whopping 40 seconds to spare on my COVID test timer I still hadn’t gotten dressed; I managed to successfully get clothed just as the timer ended and indicated it was time for a proctor to come back on the line and interpret my results. Negative! It’s always exciting even when I’m expecting a COVID test to be negative!

We were all ready to go by 9am which would give us a little under 2 hours to get breakfast and wrap up in Puerto Ayora before the taxi Donna arranged for us would whisk us away. Since check-out time on the unit was 9:30am Donna had offered to store our luggage in the office. However, she wasn’t in said office when we showed up ready to drop our bags. I pushed the ringer on the wall, not realizing there was a planted cactus DIRECTLY UNDERNEATH the damn buzzer and accidentally swiped my thumb against it; becoming a human pin cushion. With a few select words I started pulling quill after quill out of my thumb as the door finally opened. Donna’s assistant who had come down to let us in seemed oblivious as I dug in my bag for tweezers and tried to pull out the remaining quills; it seems like I’ll be bringing a couple home with me.

Thumb throbbing, I was also starving and just wanted to beeline to food; not really taking any time to appreciate the little town around me. Paul did tell us that he heard the reason sooooo many buildings have their top stories unfinished is because they’re left that way on purpose as a finished building is taxed at a higher rate than an unfinished building. So folks purposefully leave their buildings unfinished. I’m going to have to google that.

I had researched breakfast spots so knew where we were headed but was pleasantly surprised and nostalgic when I realized we were walking by El Muelle de Darwin; the restaurant where we had lunch our first day meeting our Coral I companions! Our destination was right next door; Bowl Açaí & Coffee House.

I had seen some amazing açaí bowls in pictures from Puerto Ayora and this was one of the highest rated spots. We settled into a little table and I ordered my custom açaí bowl, complete with honey, coconut, banana, strawberry, bee pollen, amaranth, and cacao nibs; and an Immune Booster juice made with ginger, pineapple, aloe vera, and lemon.

My açaí bowl arrived looking a bit monochromatic and I was a little disappointed that I did not make more colorful fruit selections but it hit the spot! On the wall a television was showing snorkel footage from around the islands, identifying all the different fish and marine life. I’m sad I never got to see a sea turtle or marine iguana swimming with me.

We probably spent a little more time than we should have at breakfast and only had about half an hour left before we had to be back at the AirBnB to meet our taxi. It was just after 10am and the already sleepy streets of Puerto Ayora were almost completely still. I bought a couple little mugs at an artisan ceramics shop before making our final stop at a tiny little bunker of a structure that smelled like coffee and was lined with mostly brown paintings.

The artist/shopkeeper, Ondy, invited us in. All the artwork was hand painted by Ondy using coffee as her paint! She had been sitting on the floor working on a piece when we walked up. She was so sweet and so talented. I quickly picked out a small swimming sea lion painting (time was of the essence so everything had to be quick at this point!) and she was happy to pose holding it before I paid her and waved goodbye. I LOVE all the local art here!

We made it back to the AirBnB building with a few minutes to spare and had time to check out the “Social Terrace” about six floors up. I am soooo glad our unit had been on ground floor so we didn’t have to climb these stairs with luggage! The views of the island from the terrace were outstanding and a great way to end our time in Puerto Ayora.

Our driver, Wilson, was there right on time with a friendly and helpful demeanor. He spoke decent English and we were able to communicate easily. He told us that he thinks Spanish is easier to learn than English since Spanish words are pronounced as they are written, and English not so much. Once on the main road, heading the 40ish minutes across the island to the ferry, we discussed our amusement at the tortoise crossing signs. Hearing us confirm with each other that I had gotten a picture of one from the bus, Wilson pulled the truck over and stopped on the shoulder so we could get out and make sure we had a nice clear picture of the caution signs.

As if that wasn’t good enough, a minute or two later, Wilson pulled over and stopped the truck again, when a tortoise in a field across the road was spotted. We jumped out to ooh and ahh at our supposed final wild tortoise sighting before I turned around and realized there was another one just a few feet away from us, chomping away right on the other side of the sidewalk!

When we got back in the truck, Wilson pulled out his phone and showed us pictures from when the tortoises have stopped traffic as they sauntered down the middle of the road. I love that, even as a local, he was just as excited for the tortoises as we were. Wilson confirmed that we had already seen the magma sinkholes and didn’t need to stop there before we drove past. He was a wealth of information and it was like we had our own mini tour guide on our way to the dock.

Trucks lined the road leading to the little dock, it was much more bustling than the other three times I’ve been here on this trip. Three sea lions lounged like speed bumps right in the middle of the fray; I almost tripped right over them trying to get to the boat ramp. One cute little baby lazily picked his head up to give me a wink goodbye before flopping back down. Our luggage was again sketchily loaded on top of the little ferry before our quick trip across the stunning channel. The water in the narrow channel is a special shade of blue; so clear and marbled with so many shades of turquoise, pale blues, darker blues, hints of green. From the sky it resembles a unique jewel with the soft white sandy bottom and volcanic rocks creating shallows.

It was a bittersweet ride across the channel knowing that this was really the end of my trip to the Galápagos. On the dock in Baltra, my hunch was confirmed, it is indeed provisioning day for the islands. Crates of provisions were being loaded onto ferries, presumably having just arrived by air, to be taken across to Santa Cruz and the long line of trucks waiting to be loaded down with supplies. A boat carrying a container truck floated by.

After a few minutes, the airport bus arrived to take us from the dock to the airport. As with the Baltra/Santa Cruz Ferry, it was my fourth time on this bus now. This time I searched the landscape for signs of the old air force base, finally paying closer attention to the abandoned buildings and concrete pads where structures once stood.

The line to check-in for the flight moved slow and the massive overhead fans that kept the little airport from becoming sweltering put out an annoying amount of wind. I checked in, happily surprised that I was still able to get my preferred seat selection, and told Kyra and Paul that I would meet them on the other side of security because I desperately had to pee!

I got through security and my transit control card screening, but hadn’t quite made it to the bathroom, when I got a text from Kyra, “Come back! They checked us in under the wrong reservation.” Well shit; I guess I wouldn’t get to pee. I turned back around and explained to security that I needed to get back through to the ticket counter, “My friend called me; there’s a problem with the reservation.” They confusedly waved me through but the transit control desk was more scrutinizing. I was only going about 50′ away from them but I get it, security. They agreed to let me go back out but only after insisting that I leave my passport with them. It’s never fun to turn over one’s passport but I handed it over and rushed back out to meet Kyra and Paul at the ticket counter.

So this requires a little explanation. An offer on our cruise was that they would cover our flights from the mainland to and from Baltra; but only if they coincide with the day we began/ended our cruise. Since we originally were going to head straight back to Guayaquil the day our cruise ended the company had taken care of our flight reservation. But remember, we decided to stay on Santa Cruz that extra night instead of heading back! It was a weekend when we made this decision, the night before we flew back from Isabela to get on the yacht. We had figured we might as well ask the cruise company to change our flight, but assumed they’d tell us no. Since we knew we wouldn’t have reception on the cruise we needed to get a flight figured out before we left Isabela so we sent our kind request to Ximena, the wonderful lady we’ve been working with at the cruise company for our booking and details, and then booked flights ourselves that had a decent cancellation policy.

Fast forward a couple days from that point, we were on the yacht and our captain informed us that he’d gotten word from Ximena to pass along to us that they had changed our flight! As soon as we got back to reception on Santa Cruz we had gone onto the Avianca website to cancel the flights we had booked ourselves and try to get our $270/ticket back. Avianca is a little more old school than your airlines that process refunds right away and put requests into a review process that can take weeks. I had assumed that they’d at least somehow flag the reservation, and quite frankly, I was so focused on getting my check-in process finished so I could go pee that I didn’t even worry about it upon check-in!

Thankfully, Kyra had gone pee while we were waiting to check-in so she didn’t have that distraction and she caught it on theirs. Had she not caught it and we went through with those tickets then it should have annulled our refund requests! The agent at the counter was confused, and frustrated with us, but very helpful and cancelled out the boarding passes he’d issued us all to reissue them under the reservation the cruise had booked for us. I apologized to him repeatedly for the confusion as I fully own that I should have been more diligent about it and confirmed the reservation code when I checked in. He got it all taken care of though and finally I got to go back to security, get reunited with my passport, and get to pee!

With boarding time imminent there wasn’t time to get my airport ceviche and guanabana juice that I’d been hoping for and I only had myself to blame because of the ticket debacle. What a cluster f*@%. As we walked out to the plane awaiting us on the tarmac, the gate agent was out directing and assisting in the boarding process. I thanked him again for all his help and his smile in return made me feel better that he didn’t hate us as much as he seemed to at the counter.

The flight was sparsely booked and we each ended up getting our own row so we each had a coveted window seat to watch the islands slip away behind us. I noted more of the remains of the old military base as the plane climbed over Baltra and gazed wistfully on the opulent ferry channel. I sunk into the calm of sitting in my own little corner on the plane with the empty row beside me and having some quiet alone time to digest the amazing experience this adventure has brought me.

Reality snuck back into my fairy tale trip as I flipped up the straw of my life straw bottle for a refreshing sip and the water came erupting out like a water fountain; soaking my shorts and seat. Lesson learned on those types of bottles and air pressure! The air was hazy and overcast as the plane descended toward Guayaquil; the muddy brown river a sharp contrast to the clear blue waters I had just left behind. A 90 minute flight and it felt like we were worlds away.

Guayaquil was as excited to let us in as I was to leave the dreamy Galápagos. Only one person deplaned ahead of us and we found ourselves locked in at the end of the jet bridge. To one side, a set of service stairs, roped off. To the other side and ahead, locked doors. We were locked in at the end of the damn jet bridge. I saw a man taking a break on the roped off steps and hollered for him to help us. He seemed confused but came to the rescue and, with a laugh and shrug, used his magic key card to open to unlock the doors so we could pass through.

A $6 Uber ride later we arrived at the shiny modern skyscraper of apartments where I had booked our AirBnB. Security is tight in this building! We had to be buzzed into the locked lobby before trying to communicate, as directed, with the front desk security to get the keys to our apartment. Security spoke no English and acted very confused, as if they weren’t expecting us. I grew worried as a side conversation ensued; we were definitely in the right place, did we just get screwed over with this AirBnB? After a couple more minutes of awkwardly standing around she asked for our passports and handed over a little bag containing our elevator, lobby, and apartment keys.

The two-bedroom two-bathroom apartment is small but clean and modern; perfect for a quick stay. The view overlooks the adorable Cerro Santa Ana hillside with the colorful homes in which you can see the poverty if you creepily look deep through their windows.

The apartment is just a block or so from where I stayed my first night in Guayaquil so I had some comfort in knowing my surroundings. It was nearing early evening so I suggested that we walk the Malecon toward downtown, stop by the iguana park, and then have dinner at La Pata Gorda, where I’d eaten my first night. On the way back we’d hit up the giant La Perla ferris wheel. This plan was approved and I led the way, past my first night’s AirBnB, pointing out the steps that Paul and Kyra should take tomorrow, and to the Malecon.

Walking the opposite direction of my previous visit and in the dusky evening it felt very different. I noticed new artwork that I’d been oblivious to before; a vibrant painting of a masked nurse under the AeroVia. La Perla lit us the sky grew darker. Every 100 yards young men were selling cups of churros. CHURROS! I had to use my self control to stop myself. I needed real food first and how fresh could those churros really be?

Lines of police officers stood at attention getting their marching orders for the night. Like I’d previously observed, there continued to be a heavy police presence in this town. As we turned onto a side street into downtown, young men walked by with cases of water balanced on their heads, presumably ready to go sale them on the Malecon.

Arriving at Parque Seminario I pointed out the iguanas resting on monuments and hanging out overhead in trees; warning Paul and Kyra NOT to walk under any lest they get crapped on. These would be my last iguanas of the trip. I studied how different they are from those on the islands and also noticed a weird palm tree with its fronds fanned out to the side; a tree I had not noticed last time. The park was so still in the evening light compared to the vibrant bustling it had been a little over a week ago.

I was hungry and excited to eat at La Pata Gorda again. Paul and Kyra had the same initial reaction to the armed guard at the door as I had last week but they actually had the guts to ask if we could take his picture! Two waiters cheesed for the picture in the doorway before we entered and were escorted to a table. We started our feast with El Aninado cocktails; a delicious concoction of gin, lemon, and basil. They arrived with fanfare with dry ice cascading over the top. Paul taught me the word sublimation, when a solid turns straight to gas, skipping the liquid phase.

We began our feast with amorfinos del centro, the mini cassava souffles with crab, my favorite from last time, los irreverentes de urdesa, pork rind tacos, and tesoros del mar, mixed shellfish and octopus in garlic cream. We tried to order crab claws but they weren’t available. Communication was a challenge but I think you could only get claws by ordering a whole crab tonight? It was unclear. The amorfinos were as delicious as I remembered them and I wanted more. The bits of shell accidentally mixed into the crab were a crunchy reminder of how freshly made the delightful little diddies are. The tacos were a feast for the eyes in a bright blue shell but one bite was enough for me to confirm that they weren’t worth the calories. I’m not exactly a pork rind type of girl.

With flaming fanfare, the tesoros del mar were presented. Literally, the skillet was throwing off flames. A finger or two may have been burned trying to grasp at a shell. They were good but not as spectacular as their presentation. I’m not a heavy cream type of girl either.

I was practically full from the appetizers and glad I went light with a ceviche and salad for my entree. The salad was slices of cucumber, tomato, and avocado. I mixed it all into my ceviche for one giant bowl of goodness. The restaurant started to close around us as we finished our meal, it wasn’t late, maybe 9pm, but they close on the earlier side. As a group, we decided that the walk back to the apartment felt unnecessary this time of night and we’d be best to just take an Uber; I fly out first thing in the morning so timing is a bit of the essence at this point. And quite frankly, we are all just plain tired.

Our Uber driver picked us up and headed towards the Malecon to the main road to take us back to our apartment. The street was a parking lot. Flashing police lights lit up the road ahead. Cars crossed over lanes, cutting each other off like they were the only vehicle on the road. What in the hell is going on? As we inched closer we could see people lining the streets. Our wonderful driver was able to communicate with us that it was some type of celebration for the Ecuador Futbol Club. They won a game today? No. This was a conversation beyond any of our abilities in Spanish or our drivers ability in English but he seemed to be communication that it was something to do with something involving New York that happened five years ago. I tried to google it but no luck. We wanted to roll down the windows to take pictures but he stopped us. “No! Peligroso!” and gestured at the motorcycles and cars cutting closely by.

Turning off the closed road onto a side street we were near the hill where the two men stopped me from walking last week, telling me it was dangerous and I could not go there. It was clear we were tourists and our driver pointed to the hill, “Muy muy peligroso! No vayas!” He even pulled up google translate on his phone to make it clear, “Don’t go there, very very dangerous. They come down and rob everyone on that hill.” I was again shook but even more so thankful. I was really glad Kyra and Paul were also hearing it from him. Having only seen the nicer side of Guayaquil so far I don’t know that they’ve taken me seriously about how unsafe some parts are.

The view that greeted us from the windows in our apartment was a pleasant surprise. Cerro Santa Ana was pretty during the day and even prettier lit up at night. After getting into our comfies, Kyra and I lounged on my bed to compare photos and see about transferring data from our GoPros and Instas. I definitely need to get a snorkel filter for the GoPro! It was nice chill lounging time and bittersweet now that our trip together has essentially come to an end. We’ve made another phenomenal set of memories together and have a special bond over our adventures.

Everything is packed and my alarm is set for the crack of dawn. Actually, before the crack of dawn. A 7:30am boarding time for my first flight means a 5am alarm so I can get to the airport in time, thankfully it’s only a few minutes away.