The Ride Home

Checking in at Bogotá airport was airport was a bureaucratic nightmare almost without equal. After having tickets examined, then bags examined, scanned and beaten (don’t ask, I don’t know), exemptions sought and taxes paid, we were finally allowed to join the queue of honoured souls allowed to check in. We boarded our flight a couple of hours later which left exactly on time and arrived 4 hours later in Mexico City.

Once clear of the airport we took a taxi to our hotel, managing to pay too much despite the fixed pricing system. We pulled up at our hotel right in the historic centre of Mexico City, a block back from the huge main square of the Zocálo and cathedral. It was a step up for us in price and luxury, which was a welcome change for our last few nights.

It was late Sunday afternoon, and we were half starved and had been up since Friday morning with very little sleep. After grabbing some pretty poor Mexican fast food – it was surprisingly hard to find a Mexican restaurant in Mexico City, it seemed – we went for an afternoon nap.

We woke up at the following morning after 14 hours sleep, feeling hungrier than ever but well refreshed. After a hotel breakfast we set off to see the sights of Mexico City. Given that it is the largest city in the world this was a little difficult to do in a day, so we started by walking around the Zocálo, surrounded on all sides by old colonial buildings, cathedrals and the Palacio Nacional. It was from here that Independence was first proclaimed, with the famous cry, El Grito, of “Viva Mexico!” Inside were some excellent, although rather communist murals by the artist Diego Rivera, husband of the more famous Frieda Kahlo.

The Zocálo

After a brisk stroll around the grounds and the cathedral we hopped onto an open-topped bus for a city tour. With headphones and preprogrammed guide this was a good way of seeing a lot in a short space of time. We hopped off again at Chapultepec Park, the huge park-cum-forest that is called the “green lungs” of Mexico City. After a fruitless walk around a lake looking for somewhere to eat, we got on the bus again to the next stop in the Condensa district of the city, where we met with success and found a great café for lunch.

<>We arrived back in the centre late that afternoon and stuffed ourselves with sandwiches and icecream. We also booked ourselves on a tour the following day to Teotihuácan, the huge ancient city a short distance from the city containing some of the largest pyramids in the world. Pre-Colombian Mexican history is a mix of several great cultures: the Olmec and Toltecs were early civilisations that preceded the Maya and Aztecs, and indeed the name “Mexico” is derived from the Aztec name for their own culture, “Mexica”. In this history, the civilisation of Teotihuácan remains somewhat of a mystery. It preceded the Aztecs and donated much of its culture to them, but who they were, where they came from and where they went to is not clear.

We left the following morning for on a tour that also included the obligatory stop at a church and craft shop. The church was the shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe – the most significant religious relic in Latin America. The legend has it that the Virgin Mary appeared to a Mexican peasant for several days running; when he told his priest about this, he was informed that more proof was needed than the roses that he was being left. The following day on a piece of sack-lack cloth that was used to sell his wares at market, appeared the incredible image of the Virgin. The huge churches built around this are magnificent: sadly the older ones are subsiding and held together by large cables and the Will of God.


The churches at the Shrine of the Virgin of Guadalupe

At the craft centre was an interesting explanation on the uses of the agaves in Aztec society – as well as making tequila, there are a huge range of uses from writing parchment to clothing. We also looked at the art of obsidian carving and polishing – one of the main Teotihuácan exports; this was followed by the peddling of overpriced statues, paperweights and carvings and then a comically small lunch.

Agaves don't just make tequila.....

The best part of our day was the trip around the ancient city itself. Despite the best efforts of our miserable guide to dull us into boredom, we had a good group and had a great time walking up the Pyramid of Quetzacotl, down the Avenue of the Dead, then up the vast Pyramid of the Sun and Pyramid of the Moon. Although the stonework lacks the skill of the Incas, the scale is much greater, and it is estimated only 30% of the city is uncovered. The people who lived here were not an overly friendly lot – ritual sacrifice was common and their foreign policy could only be described as aggressively hegemonic.

Looking down the Avenue of the Dead, left is Pyramid of the Moon, right is Pyramid of the Sun

Many of the structures at Teotihuácan were built on top of over and over, and by excavating these later layers well preserved friezes and stonework have been uncovered, many of which are on view in tunnels and rooms under smaller pyramids. After a few hours of wandering around and climbing 3 pyramids we were ready to return to Mexico City, and have a nice dinner and early night.

From the Pyramid of the Moon

The following day was our last in Mexico City, so we paid an all too brief visit to the vast Museum of Anthropology to look into local culture a bit more. The museum would take two days to looks around but we covered it in 2 hours – enough to see the really good Mayan and Aztec stuff, plus the odd Olmec head and Toltec carving. By this time we were rather cultured out, so we strolled back to our café in Condensa for lunch before heading back into the city to pack up. That evening we went for our last romantic dinner in an upper class restaurant serving typical Mexican food: it was good, but not as good as we hoped.

Stonework in Teotihuácan

The next morning the fun started. Hannah was flying direct from Mexico City via Madrid that evening; I had a lunchtime flight to Houston then onto Miami. Miami airport was fully functioning after Hurricane Wilma, but upon checking in to my flights I discovered my flight to Miami had been cancelled and I was flying Houston to Miami on the 29^th – the day after I was flying back to Madrid. After kicking up a fuss and waiting an hour, I was eventually routed to Miami via Houston the Orlando.

On arrival in Houston I had to clear U.S. Immigration and Customs, a task greater than checking in at Bogotá. My one and a half hour transfer time was eaten up and I cleared customs with 15 minutes before my flight, and had to recheck my rucksack in. I made the flight with 6 minutes to spare and once in Orlando had an hour for my connection to Miami. I had visions of a first class seat with my boarding card – Seat 5F – which were dashed when I saw the plane pull up – a 19 seater Gulfstream, barely better than a windup toy.

Olmec head in the Antropology Museum

In Miami I was unsurprised to find my bag was lost (still in Houston), and made my way to my hotel. Miami took a beating from Hurricane Wilma, and about half of the power supply in the county was out – including my hotel. There was a state of emergency in effect and a curfew in force – I couldn’t leave to get any dinner – but fortunately the hotel had a generator delivered 2 hours before my arrival, and there was power to half the building when I arrived.

The next morning I took a bus to the nearest mall to do some last minute shopping, and saw the extent of the damage inflicted by the sustained 110mph winds that Wilma caused. There was not an undamaged tree or house; many roofs had been ripped off and countless signs and walls blown over. It was a mess.

I was back in the airport 3 hours early for to pick up my rucksack, fresh from Houston. I checked in without problems and boarded my jumbo jet back to Madrid, which left just an hour late. Despite the late takeoff we were going to arrive earlier than planned in Madrid – good for my tight connection to my Heathrow flight. Sadly, we hadn’t banked on fog closing Madrid airport; we diverted to Valencia and sat on the tarmac there for 2 hours until the fog cleared. I arrived 4 hours late in Madrid, well after my intended flight, and joined the 300 other people queuing to sort out a flight home.

After a 2 hour wait I had a new flight back to Heathrow for that evening, a ticket for a free lunch and time to kill. Naturally the flight back to London was delayed by an hour and I touched down on home soil after 9 and a half months at 7pm. My bag failed to appear – not surprising considering the chaos at Madrid – but Mum did and soon we were cruising home on smooth roads in a comfy car.

Dinner on our last night

Hannah got home without hitches – quick through immigration and baggage reclaim, flights on time, and was back on Friday evening. My bag appeared last night – Monday – being delivered at a rather incredible 1.30am. I was glad though, since I’m already getting ready for the ski season at Val d’Isere.

So that’s it – no more South America. That’s probably lucky as you’re bored of reading by now. We hope you’ve enjoyed it at least a little bit as much as we have.

By the Sea

We left Bogota for the 5 hour bus ride to Manizales, the "capital" of the coffee region of Colombia known as the Zona Cafetera. As per usual, the scenery was stunning as we left the eastern cordillera and dropped into the Magdalena river valley that separates it from the central cordillera. We stopped for lunch in the town of Honda, and had the appalling locally caught catfish for lunch, recommended by a local as a delicacy - it's never nice eating something that tastes of mud and has eyes in it.


Landscape en-route

We arrived in Manizales and eventually reached our hostel after landing ourselves with a taxi driver who clearly lacked The Knowledge. There we bumped into Angie and Meredith, our travelling chums from the previous week, who were very excited to be going to see Juanes in concert in the stadium opposite the hostel. Juanes is the South American answer to Robbie Williams, and is actually very good - we listened to the concert from outside our hostel.

The following day we looked around the city. The centre of town, which sits at the top of a mountain ridge, is dominated by a huge and exceptionally ugly cathedral - the design is OK, but it the use of concrete to build it makes it look like a gothic inspired 70's highrise. Despite it's position as the capital of the coffee region, it really wasn't that interesting so we spent the rest of the afternoon looking in shopping malls and writing the Blog.


Hill sides of coffee

The following day we went in search of an authentic coffee experience, in the small town of Chinchina. This market town receives coffee beans from the whole region, and as it was a Saturday it was bursting at the seams with trucks, mules, drunken men and coffee. In fact it was like something out of the Wild West, lots of bars with billards, lots of men in cowboy hats drinking, and very few women about....


So wild even the horses drink!

After wandering around, we met up with the son of patrón 'Don Carlos' (ever a cartel name if ever I heard one!!) , who showed us the way to his father's coffee finca, where we were to spend the night. Unfortunately this involved a steep climb up a hill side to his coffee farm aptly named Colina del sol, or Hill of the Sun. There we were given indepth explanation of the ins and outs of coffee growing, including the fight against the dreaded coffee rust and berry borer. We then spent the rest of the afternoon relaxing, enjoying the peace, tranquility and copious amounts of home grown coffee (Hannah slowly began to even enjoy a cup). The views from the finca were excellent, and as night fell we spent a very quiet evening reading before turning in for a good nights sleep.


Coffee finca

The following morning was more of the same - relaxing, reading and coffee drinking. We had tour around another part of the finca with a half mad local who would abruptly stop, mid sentence, to go and hug a tree and quote Pablo Neruda - weird! After a leisurely lunch we headed back downhill to Chinchina and from there back to our hostel in Manizales, with several abortive attempts to buy coffee enroute.

The next day we caught an early bus to Medellín, a city once synonymous with drug cartels and violence, but now a prospering and vibrant (and safe) city. We arrived in the excellent bus terminal and headed to the centre of town to look around before heading off on a night bus to Cartagena on the Caribbean coast. The centre was not great, full of crazy people and women of negotiable affection. There were some wonderful sculptures by the local artist, Botero, a big brick cathedral but aside from that not a lot else. Later we found out that the nice part of town is in the south, but we didn't mind - we wanted to get to the beach so left quicksmart.


Bronze horse by Botero

We arrived in Cartagena later than promised, after an interminable number of police checks. It was hot and very humid, and noticeably poorer than other parts of Colombia. We installed ourselves in a cheap hotel with a very big fan, and had a quick walk around town before heading back to catch up on the sleep that we missed on our overnight bus.

Cartagena is one of the oldest cities in in South America, given it's position in the Caribbean close to where Colombus first made landfall. Since it was first founded in 1521 every pirate worth his salt in the centuries since has sacked the city - or at least tried to. Because of this, huge walls encircle the old town of Cartagena - well protected anyway by a maze of small islands and narrow straits and sheltered harbours. Within the walls are possibly the finest collection of colonial architecture in South America, with old churches and brightly painted ancient town houses lining the narrow streets and tranquil plazas.


Pretty streets of Cartagena

We spent our day in Cartagena wandering around fairly aimlessly; first was circuit of the walls, incredibly thick and pretty well preserved and restored. After this we made our way slowly back throught the heart of the old town; the narrow streets were cooler in the shade and outside of the busy central area were quiet areas where gardens spilled out from courtyards onto the street. Cartagena was also the first place in Colombia we had seen any number of Western tourists, and with them came lots of street vendors anxious to sell their wares.

Much as we liked Cartagena, when it's 90° in the shade, there's only one place to be, and that isn't in a city. So the following morning we took a taxi to a rickety pier in a dirty market, from where boats were supposed to leave for Playa Blanca, reputedly the best beach in Colombia. After agreeing to an over-the-odds price, we waited for over 2 hours for the boat to fill up, and we on the point of giving up and going home when the boat pulled away and set off at a fearsome speed.

After a 50 minute rollercoaster ride, we were dropped on at the beach. It looked as good as it was cracked up to be - white sand, very warm and blue sea, coconut trees overhanging the beach..... all we needed was somewhere to stay. We found ourselves in an agreeable beachfront cabin, in a half-empty complex run by an evangelical Frenchman named Gilbert.


Sunset at Playa Blanca

And so we embarked on some serious lazing around - the afternoon, following day and morning after that were alternate bouts of reading, sunbathing (I'm not a natural), swimming, and eating. It was great. Of the few other guests at the hostel there were two young Colombian brothers with their 4 collected children in tow, plus 3 friendly Israelis.

After almost exhausting my reading, I started on an evolutionary-creationsim book, one of Gilbert's finest. It was interesting.... but here is not the time or place to talk about it! In the evenings we enjoyed freshly caught fish and played Janiv, an entertaining Israeli card game. By Saturday afternoon our money and suncream supplies were runnning low so we took a boat with the Colombian family back to Cartagena, a much more pleasant experience than the way out. I didn't take the Spanish-English New Testament that Gilbert offered; we have plenty too many books already.


"Wish you were here...."

We stayed the night in Cartagena - hot and wet still - before departing the following morning to the port of Santa Marta, further north up the coast. Our main reason for visitng here was not the dirty beach in town, but the Tayrona National Park that lies just to the east - a wild stretch of coastline and beaches that everyone seems to love.

We stayed a night in Santa Marta to buy supplies, and later left the supermarket proud owners of a $10 tent and fridge box, plus all the supplies that we needed for a few days at the beach. We stayed in a very friendly and well equipped hotel, who were only too keen to give us the lowdown on Tayrona.

The following morning, laden with 15 litres of water, a crate of beer, lots of food and a few clothes, we walked to get the bus to the park entrance. We were half dead after walking the 10 blocks necessary, and once we reached the park we opted to do the sensible thing and hire a mule to take our luggage to the beach we wanted to go to.

The hour long walk was through beautiful, pristine jungle, and we arrived at the first beach after 30 minutes and determined to continue onto El Cabo, a beach further on that we had heard good things about. Despite the 80° heat it was overcast and drizzling, and it seemed to be getting greyer as we reached El Cabo. We set up the tent and I entered boy-scout mode, spending an hour or two building a wooden frame around the tent to support a plastic groundsheet which would provide the waterproofing (it was a $10 tent after all). We spent the rest of the afternoon under the shelter that belonged to the campsite - considering they could charge whatever they wanted for food and drinks, it was exceptionally reasonable.


Boy-scout Pete, Ray Mears eat your heart out!

It was Monday, and we only had until Friday before we had to return to Bogota. The first evening we discovered that the "beer" we had bought was in fact a revolting malt drink - very embarrassing, and we had no intention of carrying it back. Fortunately there was the option to buy beer from the camp store, but we were pretty limited on cash so had to nurse our cans carefully.


El Cabo beach

On Tuesday afternoon Limon, Asi and Lee, the Israelis from Playa Blanca, appeared along with a group of 10 or so more if their countrymen. So we spent the days on the beach much as before - reading, sunbathing, swimming, and eating. Our food supplies were perfect, and the fridge box pretty good - we had fresh bread every day until we left, and even managed to exchange the "beer" cans for real beer at the camp shop.


El Cabo beach....again

If you want to be picky, I suppose the sand on the beach of Playa Blanca was better, but the isolation of El Cabo, the lack of vendors and jungle rising immediately behind the beach gave it the edge. Despite having some totally ineffective sunblock (the most expensive in Cartagena) and getting burnt, we had a great time - even during the tropical downpour that just about flooded the tent.

Friday morning came all too quickly, and we struck camp, gathered up all that we couldn't leave behind and walked back to the road - no mule this time. On the way we say some monkeys - an as-yet unidentified species that is the ninth type we have seen.


How romantic!

We got back to Santa Marta with only about 25p in our pockets - we had calculated our camping and transport bill rather closely. After a much-needed shower we got lunch and supplies for the long bus ride back to Bogota. We rocked up at the terminal mid-afternoon and stepped onto our bus a short while later, after a bidding war between touts for different companies let us get a cheap seat.

The bus back was due to arrive at 9am, but en route back up the Magdalena valley there was heavy, sustained rain, and our progress slowed to a crawl for several hours. When light came, we were still miles from Bogota, and eventually rolled into the city at midday, 19 hours after we started.

In Bogota it was all go; back in the Platypus hostel, the ever helpful German sorted us with a room and laundry, and we left for some last mintue shopping and culture - there is a free Botero museum here that we missed the other week. That evening we had a great last meal then free beer back at the hostel, before turning in not early enough for our 4am start to the airport.

We're in Mexico City now, only a few days before heading home. We'll see you soon.

Highway through the Danger Zone

Quito was cool, big and pretty smelly. Situated in a high Andean valley at 2800m, at the foot of a volcano, it has chronic air pollution problems and the usual urban poverty that characterises so many South American cities. As you may have guessed, we didn't like it.

Once back form the Galapagos, we stayed in a hostel that rather grandly called itself "the best in South America"- clearly it wasn't, but it was reasonable and in a safe area of town. One of the things that Quito excels at is robberies from gringos - all in a 2-square-block area of the new town where hostels, internet cafes, western restaurants and clubs live on the gringo tourist trade. Far away from this mayhem, our hostel was on the outskirts of the old town, within easy walking distance of the usual colonial architecture, huge churches and central Independence square.

Walking around the Old City was nice, but it was crowded and there were large numbers of riot police around, preparing for a demonstration against Western oil companies operating in the east of the country. Feeling like the cultural heathens that we probably are, we opted against inspecting every church and museum, and abandoned the Old City for a more inspired day. The night before had been "Ecuadorian night" at our hostel - good, typical food and a half decent indigenous band - so we ate in again, up on the beautiful roof terrace that looked over the city.


The Official Equator

The next day we set off on a mission to Mitad del Mundo, or the Equator. The bus journey was longer than usual - oil protesters blocking a road - but we reached the huge granite monument just before midday. The position was calculated in 1726, and is only 150m out from the modern day GPS position - they failed to account for the equatorial bulge. After the usual photos we had a look inside the monument - a good ethnographic museum and view from the top was worth the slightly exorbitant entrance fee.


Hannah, tribal warrior-priestess

What we had not counted on was that it was the 23rd of September, or the autumn equinox. That meant, at 12.00pm, we had precisely no shadow as the sun was directly overhead. That would have been great had it not been cloudy. After visiting the "official" (wrong) site, we identified the equator proper in a small museum up a dirt track. There was an eclectic collection of Ecuadorian culture which bulked out the site, including indigneous huts, shrunken heads (actually real human heads that had been skinned off the skull then boiled up in a secret plant concoction that shrinks them into mini-busts; and according to our enthusaistic guide the hair on these heads still grow - weird!) and local drinks. We then got to play with darts and a blow pipe, donning the requisite silly hat before attacking a hapless cactus. Needless to say, I was on target and was immediately crowned chief of the local tribe, being strongly suspected of being a god.


The real Equator

After the tour we got to do the fun stuff on the Equator, namely playing with water and eggs!! There was a great do-it-yourself demonstration of the Coriolis effect - in the northen hemisphere water goes down a plug hole anti-clockwise, on the equator straight down and in the southern hemisphere clockwise. After hours of playing with water we deduced that this was true, even if you only move the bucket 6 inches from the actual equator. Donning our astro-physicist white coats we attempted the second experiment; that was balancing an egg on the head of a nail (which works because of the gravity on the egg is at an equilibrium or something like that - something to do with a bloke called Newton). After several attemptes Pete managed to balance the egg, but as neither of us had actually tried balancing an egg on a nail anywhere other than the equator we weren't sure whether it truely was a gravitational phenomenom or just the guide at the museum having a laugh at us. After taking several photographs with our feet in each hemisphere we returned to Quito, happy to be leaving the following day.

The next morning we were on our way to Baños, a small tourist town a few hours south of Quito, quietly nestling in the foothills of an active volcano. The spa town is a draw for locals and foreigners alike, and arriving on Saturday lunchtime we were met with the usual weekend crowd, tearing around the streets on quad bikes and in dune buggies. The real beauty of the town lies outside of it - the picturesque valleys hide rocky canyons, winding rivers and numerous waterfalls. We spent the next couple of days relaxing - we met Darren and Andrea, a couple from our Galapagos boat, and found an excellent restaurant-cafe with a good book exchange and excellent cookies. We spent time avoiding the awful wails of the karakoe bar opposite our hotel, wandered around town, and generally did very little. Come Monday morning, the town was transformed - quiet, sleepy and empty. We left as well, taking the bus back north to Otavalo, a market town some 2 hours north of Quito.


Banos, with Tungurahua volcano behind

Otavalo is famous for having one of the largest markets in South America, every Saturday. The handicrafts market is so big it runs every day of the week, which is what we wanted to see. After arriving we met up with Angie and Meredith for dinner; Angie is a friend who I first met back in Ushuaia, and we have been keeping tabs ever since. All four of us were heading into Colombia, so we decided on the safety-in-numbers option to travel together. Our plan was to look around Otavalo the following morning before taking a bus to Tulcan, on the Ecuador-Colombia border.

Otavalo handicrafts market was not all that good, truth be told. It was nothing that we hadn't seen before, at generally more expensive prices. Instead, Hannah and I took a bus to the nearby town of Cotacachi, famous for it's leather goods. It was a great find. There followed 2 hours of hectic shopping, buying incredibly cheap leather goods that we probably didn't need, but couldn't resist.

Back in Otavalo, we got some lunch before taking the PanAmerican highway northwards. This was where we officially entered the "less secure area" that stretched all the way north to Cali in Colombia. The Ecuadorian government had decared a state of emergency in the 2 provinces east of us, due to ongoing oil protests, and the PanAmerican was apparently blocked north of us due to another protest. After weighing up the risks, we decided to proceed, and arrived that evening safely in Tulcan, having bypassed the "blockade" on the PanAmerica (I suspect I blinked and missed it). We settled down for a comfortable night in Tulcan, with an mixture of trepidation and anticipation about what lay ahead in Colombia.

We crossed the border, hassle-free, first thing in the morning; Angie, who had had her passport stolen in Ecuador, had to promise she would never come back in order to obtain her exit stamp, despite the appropriate paperwork explaining her lack of entry stamp. We took a small van into Ipiales, from where we caught an all day bus up to Cali.

The Colombia-Ecuador border has seen an increase in tension in the past 2 years or so, due to an upsurge in guerrilla activity. Some of the Colombia activites have spilled over into Ecuador, but most of the fighting remains sproadic and in the eastern provinces of the country, far from where we were travelling. Bus travel in Colombia still has the reputation of being risky, in terms of the likelihood of robberies occurring, however. As a counterpoint to the activities of the FARC and other guerrilla groups, in the past 2 years the number of robberies has decreased greatly - mainly a result of a goverment crackdown when most of the bandits ended up in jail or shot.

The day passed quietly and beautifully. The Andes in Colombia has three cordillera that make up the western part of the country, which makes for stunning, lush green scenery that carries on for hours. Rolling hills in the south, with fields and hedges reminiscent of the south west of England, gave way to more tropical vegetation - palm trees, banana plants and coffee farms. The incredible natural beauty was at odds with what many people imagine Colombia as, and the whole journey was one to remember.

As we neared Cali we were stopped at a police checkpoint and the bus was searched. In comparison to the local population, Hannah and I are a pair of fair-headed giants, which immediately drew the attention of the police who demanded we get off for a passport check. After sounding off a little about the police treatment of Colombians in the USA and the UK (Angie and Meredith had to get off too after we mentioned we were not alone), it was all laughs, jokes and smiles as we told him how beautiful Colombia was and how we had had no trouble with the Colombian police. This was the truth, although it also went with my rule of always agreeing with the man with the big shiny gun. What was nicest was that one of the locals got off the bus too, just to check that the police were treating correctly.


Cali - the old and the new

Cali was hot, humid and friendly. Still off the map as most tourism goes, foreigners are welcome and it won't be long before people are flooding to this lively city, second biggest in Colombia but possibly with the biggest personality. After finding a hostel we ate at a good Mexican fast food place; prices are much higher than Ecuador and belts may have to be tightened. The following mornign we set off to explore downtown Cali - a mix of old and new, with the colonial era churches contrasting with the gleaming skyscrapers. The security problems in southern Colombia are limited almost entirely to remote rural regions, but terrorist activity by the guerrilla groups meant that there was a small legion of police in town, most looking rather like Robocop in huge amounts of body armour.

We had decided to stay just the day in Cali, so after a siesta and a visit to an orchid garden, we turned in for the night in prepartion of another long bus ride to Bogotá, capital of Colombia, the following day. This bus ride was much like the first, although in a very luxurious bus reminiscent of Chile and Argentina. The scenery was, again, stunning for most of the day, as we crossed one cordillera and woudn our way slowly up another.

After 10 hours on the bus we arrived in the hectic, large bus terminal of Bogotá. The terminal has an efficient taxi system which prevents unsuspecting tourists being ripped off by dodgey taxi drivers, so after a 30 minute drive through the sprawling city we reached the location of our hostel, without paying over the odds (usually an impossible task arriving in a city). After dashing out and getting some fast food we got an early night to recover from our long day.


Plaza Bolívar, with statue of Simon Bolívar, Colombia's foremost hero

The following day we wandered around the old centre and were very impressed by the central square, Plaza Bolívar, and surrounding rich colonial architecture and presidential palace. The strong security presence was even more noticeable in Bogotá, with several armed police or soliders on every corner, and the occasional fully armed platoon-strength patrol through the streets. Bogotá over the years has been plagued by terrorism, both FARC and drug related, and back in the '80s there was a bomb virtually every weekend. There problem now is much smaller, but the threat from guerrillas remains; before walking down one street we had our bag searched. For all this, the central streets were quiet, pretty and relaxed - a world away from Quito or Lima. That afternoon we went up the tallest tower in Bogotá for a bird's eye view of the city - it is now the fourth largest in South America, but immediately north of the historic centre are a band of green forested hills that are a welcome break from the monotony of concrete.


Bogotá centre, from the tower

We awoke the next day to beautiful sunshine and headed up Monserrate, a church that overlooks the city on a hill almost directly above our hostel. We took the funicular up, a tram that climbs the 300m slope up to the church. As it was a Sunday the whole site was busy with worshippers, and we walked around the pretty gardens following the statues depicting the 14 steps of Jesus before he is crucified; something about He falls down 3 times, Simon helps Him carry the cross and Veronica wipes His face….. The views over the city were spectacular with the contrast of the green densely vegetated hillsides against the urban sprawl. We then queued to get the cable car back down to the city.


Monserrate

Back in the hostel we waited for Max, a Colombian who had shared Pete's cabin on his Antarctica cruise. He picked us up to take us for lunch in his 4X4 Toyota. Pete noticed that the glass seemed a bit thicker than your average car, and it quickly emerged that we were travelling in an armored plated, bulletproof car. Armored plated cars are not uncommon in Bogotá, in fact we suspected more than 50% of all 4x4s on the road were. We went to the upmarket end of town and had a very nice, very big lunch before returning to Max´s apartment which doubles up as a gallery - he is a very successful photographer. We then went to a nearby café for a coffee before returning to the centre of town and back to our hostel.

Most of the museums and tourist sites in Bogotá are closed on Mondays, so the following day we decided to head back to the upmarket end of town for a spot of shopping and people watching. After looking at several beautiful fabric shops (designer fabrics at designer prices!) we then wandered around one of the several shopping malls in the area, having our bags searched on the way in. In the more nicer area of town there is a big industry in security, a lot of the richer Colombians seem to have their own body guards (as well as armoured cars) - it was bit of a novelty trying to guess the occupation of the man walking down the street, surrounded by a few be-suited gorillas. That evening we returned to the hostel on the TransMilenio – an efficient but complicated bus service that provides rapid transport throughout the city; we managed to get back after a kind gentleman explained the impossible map.

Tuesday morning we set off for Bogotá botanic garden, which housed a wide variety of plants from Colombia and the wider world. There was an excellent arboretum of Andean trees and conifers, plus collections of medicinal plants, roses, palms and cacti. The glass houses contained superb displays of aquatic, orchid, and economic plants (as well as having conveniently located toilets). Unfortuantely I was suffering from a bit of an upset stomach, so we were always on the look out for a convenience stop, and by the afternoon Pete was beginning to feel the ill effects of an unsettled stomach too. We returned to our hostel and decided to spend the rest of the afternoon within a few meters of our en-suite bathroom.


Botanic Gardens

The next morning we awoke, with our stomachs feeling much settled, and set off for the "Salt Cathedral", carved inside a salt mine in the nearby town of Zipaquirá. We called in on our very helpful hostel office where the owner (who according to other travellers should be given a sainthood for his helpfulness) gave us directions on how to get there and a warning of thieves on the TransMileno.

Armed with directions we set off to get the bus, first negociating the complicated TransMileno. When we came to change buses my path was blocked as I followed Pete out onto the platform, and I ended up having to push my way through; only once I’d got out into the fresh air did I realize that the zip pocket of my trousers had been undone and my purse stolen. Fortunately the thief had only got away with all of about two pounds worth Colombian Pesos - luckily I never carry credit cards in my wallet or on the outsides of my clothing. Perhaps most upsetting was that my lucky money bean, which I was given in Manu “if you have a money bean in you purse your money will grow”, had also gone along with the purse.

We arrived in Zipaquirá and walked 20 minutes or so up to the mine, paid our entry fee and joined a group with an English speaking guide for a tour. We walked town a long tunnel until we were 150m under the ground where we started a series of 14 stations representing the 14 stages of Christ being crucified, as we were learning. Each station was a cross that had been sculpted to represent the various stages; Christ falling down (3 times in total) represented by the cross being very low, Simon helping christ – bolders under the cross supporting it. It was all very well done and (best of all) there wasn’t a hint of ornate gold or a gruesome statue to be seen - we are now pretty averse to wealthy religious displays. After we followed all 14 stations we got to the main Cathedral Nave, 180m below the surface, which was brilliantly lit with coloured lighting to represent heaven, hope, purity and Jesus' blood. We had decided that it had been the best church we had ever visited.


Inside the Salt Cathedral

We returned to Bogotá for lunch, and then went to the excellent, world-famous Museo del Oro, or Gold Museum, owned by the Banco de la República. There was an impressive collection of over 35,000 pre-colombian gold pieces. The ancient objects that have been found throughout different regions of Colombia show virtually every technique known that is used by modern day goldsmiths. I was particularly excited by the immense amount of shiny things. After being mesmerised by all the sparkles and golden glow for an hour and a half, we left for a last look around the centre before leaving the next day for Manizales, in the Zona Cafetera (Coffee Area) of Colombia. Time is running short!


It's shiny, it's heavy, and it clearly won't float

The Galapagos Islands

We touched down on San Cristobal the next day, after a an almost flawless flight - bouncing when we landed was an experience we'd rather forget. We quickly found our way into Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, administrative capital of the islands, although just a small town. We quickly set about finding an 8 day cruise around the islands - a harder task than we imagined.

To cut a long story short, there was not the availability we were expecting, and we ended up paying a little over the odds for an 8 day cruise on a boat that theoretically sounded good but that we had heard bad things about. The good ship Free Enterprise was a 110 foot motor-sailor, tourist superior class boat - we were promised an air conditioned cabin with private bath and hot water. Further research in town (after we had paid) brought up some interesting views; from the web review - "This boat is a deathtrap, stay away", to the guys in all the dive shops - "oh dear", to the owner of our accommodation - "Well, it's an economy class boat...."; we struggled to find a good word said about it. Still, beggars can't be choosers and it was our only option.... and the travel agent wasn't in the refund business.


The fair ship.....

So we settled down to spend a couple of days waiting for our cruise, buying t-shirts, playing with the husky puppy who lived in our accommodation, and tentatively trying snorkelling. The weather was unexpectedly cool (relatively speaking) and the water was pretty cold too - we opted to hire wetsuits for our cruise. We found delicious chocolate brownies, loads of sea lions (they're everywhere) and possibly the best selection of souvenir t-shirts in South America. Amongst all this we found plenty of time to bite fingernails and worry in general about our forthcoming trip aboard a dodgey boat.

The Galapagos Islands lie a thousand kilometres off the shore of Ecuador, just about on the equator, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. They are (relatively) young - a piffling 5 million years or so, and volcanic activity continues to produce new islands and land as the archipelago drift slowly (2cm a year) eastwards on the Nasca tectonic plate. They also sit at the confluence of several ocean currents - the warm Panama current coming from Central America, the cold Humbolt current coming from Antarctica, and another cold upwelling from the central Pacific.


Sunset on the boat

So what does this mean? There is a huge variety of marine life due to the temperature variations in the sea - there are huge marine turtles, lots of sharks, hoards of colourful fish and thousands of sea lions. On land there are many endemic plant, bird, reptile and animal species; this is after all, where Charles Darwin cut his teeth. We could go into great detail about the endemic species and adaptation to individual islands - as exemplified by Darwin's finches or the giant tortoises - but we'd rather show you the photos.


Santa Fe land iguana - an endemic sub-species

So we started our cruise on Tuesday morning, arriving early to be told to come back later as the boat was still being cleaned. We eventually got on board about 11.30 before most of the guests who had flown that morning arrived; we quickly bagged the best cabin - the air conditioning didn't look operational so we opted for a cabin mid ships (away from the noise of the anchor and away from the noise and fumes of the engine) with windows that opened - what luxury! The rest of out fellow passengers arrived and to our relief they were a nice mix of Australians, Swiss, Swedish, Canadian and English, all around our age. After a good lunch we set off on our first trip to Isla de Lobos for snorkeling with sea lions. These are really the dogs of the sea; they just wanted to play with us and can be incredibly bold. That said, if the dominant Bull takes a disliking to you swimming with his cows then you're in trouble as they can weigh up to 250 Kg and swim an awful lot faster than the average be-flippered human! After 45 minutes in the water we were cold but exhilarated - up to 5 or 6 sea lions didn't want to stop the fun as hypothermia set in.


Spot the sea lions!

We then went ashore and literally had to step over the dozing sea lions to get on dry land. There were lots of cute fluffly pups (Pete didn't think I could have one as a pet though); being in such close proximity with large wild animals was an experience we would repeat often and always treasure - the occasions were usually marked by Pete taking several close up shots of sea lion pups.


How can you not take a photo of this?

We returned to the Free Enterprise and motored back to port for dinner and refuelling, departing in the middle of the night for the 6 hour crossing across open seas to Española island. Coming from sea fairing stock I thought that I'd have my sea legs in no time and laughed when Pete offered me the sea sickness tablets that he had had the good foresight to purchase. I awoke at some silly time in the night feeling decidely not right and lay awake thinking about how really ill I felt and decided to awake Pete and ask how he was feeling. Ten minutes later I sprang from my bunk in a manner which would impress an Olympic gymnastic judge and got to the heads (that's the toilets for you landlubbers) just in time; this aerobatic display impressed Pete so much that he did the same thing 5 minutes later. Those of you who have witnessed Pete's vomiting in the past will realise that it is the loudest, inhuman, growling noise imaginable, and several passengers thought that there must be a huge distressed sea lion bull following our boat all night. And so that was it for the rest of the night - we took turns with each other for "conversations with the big white telephone" until we hit rock bottom and both had to go at once. It wasn't pretty. Eventually at some point the boat stopped rocking in every conceivable direction and anchored; we surfaced for breakfast looking particularly peaky and to our disappointment none of our fellow passengers had seemed to feel the slightest bit queasy. Suddenly those seasickness tablets seemed a lot more appealing.

Relieved to get onto terrafirma we went ashore at Gardners Bay and walked along the beach, again trying to avoid stepping on sea lions. After a pleasant doze in the sun we got back onboard the Free Enterprise tenders and snorkeled in the cold water around Turtle Rock; but despite it's name we didn't see any turtles and there was poor visibility in general - but lots of very colourful fish. After lunch, feeling refreshed after our chilly dip, we called into Punta Suarez and made a shore landing and saw our first Boobies (no, not a nudest beach, but the Blue Footed- and Masked -, bird kind). Other wildlife included the Waved Albatross, Red Billed Tropical Bird, Galapagos hawk (endemic to the islands) and marine iguanas - the only seagoing iguanas in the world that are an endemic species. They have a habit of sneezing all the time, either because they have a nasty allergy to gringos, or because it is how they remove the excess salt they receive from their diet (of seaweed) through special glands in their noses (you decide!).


Marine iguanas

Waved Albatross

Fortunately we got to our next stop of Floreana that night and had a good nights sleep anchored in a relatively sheltered bay. Awaking refreshed that morning we made our first shore landing at Post Office Bay, apparently one of the world's first post office as in 1792 a barrel was erected by whalers who left post there; if any ships call in on their way past they would pick up any relevant mail and deliver it when they arrived in their home country. This tradition continues today, but despite Pete and I going through all the postcards we couldn't find any for the UK so left a couple there instead. We walked on up a hill to a lava cave, a geological phemonenom. We then sailed (motored) onto Punta Cormorant to find a flamingo lagoon, (more) sea lions and, on the beach on the other side of the headland, we saw sharks and stingrays in the surf. We returned onboard to get our snorkeling gear and swim around Devils Crown; despite my lack of enthusiasm - "Didn't we just see sharks?!" - and the rather strong current Pete convinced me to plunge in and we were lucky enough to see lots of fish, turtles!! and stingrays. We then set off for the tourist capital of the archipelo, Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz island.

Blue Footed Boobie

The following day we went ashore to the Charles Darwin Research Station, home to the giant tortoise breeding programe and the world famous Lonesome George - the only giant tortoise of his sub species left. Despite the scientists' best efforts George didn't seem attracted to the charms of the 2 females of a closely related sub-species with whom he shared his enclosure, so it seems his genetic line will end unless someone out there has a Geochelone elephantophus abingdoni female as a pet. (Theres a $10,000 reward for anyone who can find George a date!) After lunch we headed into the highlands of Santa Cruz to my favourite ecosystem - cloud forest - which was characterised by the Scalesia genus of trees - this genus only occurs in the Galapagos, needless to say I found this very exciting! On the way back to the boat we stopped off at a ranch where wild giant tortoises seem to hang out. We all got our photos with them while discussing the merits of Pete's entrepreneurial idea of "Galapagos eco-hunting" holidays; the plan is to get tourists to help rid the islands of feral goats which are the main threat to the tortoises survival, as they destroy the tortoises' habitat and out-compete them for food. The marketing slogan is "If it's Feral, it's in Peril"... venture capitalists please post a comment!


This is a giant tortoise, honest

Overnight we set off for Isla Rabida and either the sea sickness tablets were working or we were turning into salty sea dogs; whichever, we managed to sleep the whole night. Rabida has a red coloured beach due to the high iron in the rocks that make up this small island. Again there were lots of sea lions including the cute fluffy baby variety (by this stage we had at least 400 photos of sea lions) and we also had an impressive dive bombing display from blue footed boobies fish from a great height and with great precision. We snorkelled along the cliffs and saw lots more colourful fish - we missed out seeing some sharks as the strong current and cold turned us back. We then cruised on to the island of Chinese Hat and yes, thats because the volcanic island looks like an chinese hat. On the way we had a possible sighting of whales in the distance, a postive sighting of dolphins and a huge sting ray (we can say this with absolute certainty as one of our fellow passengers had been a marine biologist). We walked along the unforgiving laval shore taking in more marine iguanas, sea lions, lava lizards and the other usual suspects. We then had an excellent snorkelling session from the beach; in the space of 10 minutes we saw white tipped reef sharks (harmless to humans, I was assured), a sting ray, a moray eel, a friendly turtle, and of course Pete's favourite - the ever playful sea lions. To cap it all, the water was warm and we saw some Galapagos penguins on the way back to the boat. That evening we motored over to Isla Bartolomeo; by this point it was clear that our "sailing ship" had a grand total of 2 sails - a jib and a genoa - both of which were ripped.


Cute fluffy baby sea lion on Rabida beach

Galapagos penguin - another endemic species

We got up early and went ashore, walking up a set of steps to the top of the island which gave us fantastic views over the bay and of Pinnacle Rock. The island is at best 170 years old - it wasn't featured on the first charts of the archipelago. We then walked over to the northern beach and watched the white tipped sharks cruising in the shallows amongst stingrays; a short walk back and we were snorkeling off the south beach and around Pinnacle Rock; the water was freezing and we were disappointed that there were no sharks on this side of the island. After lunch we cruised to Isla Seymour and made a dry landing. Here we saw Magnificent and Great Frigate birds, the males' distinctive red goular pouches inflated on their nests, land iguanas and the usual others; all set against the stunning backdrop of pounding Pacific surf in the evening light. Yep, it was great.


The view from Bartolomeo


Male Magnificent (I think) Frigate Bird

The next morning we awoke at South Plaza and made a dry landing - lots of land iguanas, very colourful carpet weed and an array of birds, plus the odd Galapagos scorpion hiding under rocks. After lunch we motored to Santa Fe and went for a snorkel in Barrington Bay; in the cold we swam with white spot eagle rays and turtles. After drying off and warming up on board we made a shore landing and saw more land iguanas (an endemic sub-species on this island), and in the shallows of the beach hoards of white tipped reef sharks and rays - sadly we weren't allowed back in for another snorkel. Instead we set off back to San Cristobal, arriving just in time to make it to the pub.


Carpet weed on Chinese Hat

Shark!

The next day was the last of our cruise, and we finished off in the Interpretation Centre, which informed us of the history and unique flora and fauna of the Islands. Most of our fellow passengers departed for the airport and were returning to the mainland; we were staying another night so that evening met up with the few remaining passengers and had a celebratory meal. The fair ship Free Enterprise had got us everywhere we wanted to see and didn't sink - much to the disbelief of the locals - which is more that can be said for one of the more upmarket boats who made an unfortunate mooring at Santa Cruz a few days ago and managed to sink within 3 minutes (don't worry, no casualties).

The following day we said our sad goodbyes to our cruise companions and Rex, the trusty husky from our apartment, and boarded a plane back to Quito, capital of Ecuador. We have 5 weeks left.

North into Ecuador

You can quote as many statistics as you like, but there's always something a little unnerving about flying with an airline that had a plane crash only last week. OK, so it was a windshear and not a wing dropping off, but all the same.... We got to Piura, in coastal northern Peru, via Lima and Tumbes, with some fairly second-rate airlines; arriving in once piece was a relief but we were full of the junk food that only airlines know how to serve.

Northern Peru remains, to us, a mystery of pre-Incan cultures, big mountains and much fewer tourists - however, you can't do everything and some things (in Ecuador) we don't want to miss. We stayed for a night in Piura; it was warm, pretty friendly and distinctly quiet after the gringo-infested streets of Cusco. It was much cheaper (relief!) and the taxis tried not to rip you off (too much). The following morning we boarded a bus to Loja in Ecuador, and started the day long journey up to the border and back into the Andes cordillera.

Having heard bad things about the costal border crossing to Ecuador, we were pleasantly surprised by the speed and ease of it all at La Tina. In no time we were in a new country (quick check on the time and currency required) and winding our way around the mountain roads to Loja - usually regarded as the gateway between the Amazon and the mountains.

It was dusk when we arrived in Loja, and after a brief trip to the bank caught another bus to our intended destination of the day, Vilcabamba. This little Andean town has become a focus on the gringo trail - small, friendly, great climate.... and did I mention the hallucinogenic cactus juice? Hannah and I settled in an upmarket hostel, wanting a couple of days R&R before moving on. And so a couple of days disappeared in no time, lazing by the pool, relaxing in the jacuzzi, trying the different cafes, and catching up on lost sleep.

Vilcabamba seemed to have a high resident gringo population, but was a little short on tourists passing through. We saw plenty of dreadlock-bedecked twentysomethings plus not a few middle-aged hippies; all, we suspected, were stuck in the loop of cheap living and easily available mescalin (the active ingredient in the San Pedro cactus) and marijuana. This not being our thing (there's a whole syndrome named after sufferers of cactus/mescalin-induced flashbacks) we booked a 3 day horse ride with a New Zealander, described as "an good horseman, lots of experience".

On the trail

Our ride didn't start promisingly - 2 hours late, our guide reeking of alcohol - but off we galloped (yes, really) down the main road out of town. It was great fun, but murder on the horses' legs. We rode quickly, leaving the road then starting on a narrow trail that made it's way slowly up the mountain. Agriculture in the valley bottom gave way to scrub as we began climbing up to the cabin at the head of the valley, a short walk from the Podocarpus National Park. We arrived in time for a late lunch - I think we were faster than most groups - and relaxed in the sunshine.

Cowboy Pete

We had booked the trip on the promise of doing some "work" for our guide on the second day of the trip - it was half price, after all. So that afternoon we took off with his sidekick, Oscar, a nice lad who took us to the edge of the National Park on a series of barely cut trails. It felt like proper jungle exploring - just a bit - a we returned, damp and muddy, to the cabin to be greeted with tortilla chips, freshly squeezed juice, guacamole and.... vodka. It was from this point that the evening started to go downhill.

It was at this point, the evening deteriorated....

As Oscar was inside cooking, our guide gradually began to lose the plot. Drinking (amongst other things) was fair enough, but to excess was unprofessional, to say the least; sadly our host became rather the worse for wear and 4 hours later, by dinner time, we had had enough. Listening to the paranoid delusional rantings of a die-hard conspiracy theorist became boring, then a little disturbing. Keeping our guide happy with the required answers ("Yes, the world is clearly ending", "No, I don't think it was created in a laboratory in Nevada" and "Yes, it must have been aliens" in varying order) and then listening to the "There's someone in town who wants to kill me, he's going to come and kill me" speech was not our idea of fun and we didn't feel totally safe as we made a sharp exit after dinner. Never believe people when they tell you that they have been unaffected by the copious quantities of drugs consumed over a lifetime of hedonism - "I've only taken San Pedro cactus 17 times and look at me" just didn't cut the mustard.

The following morning we announced that we wanted to return toVilcabamba that afternoon, and that we would do a morning's hard work beforehand - which is what we did. Hannah saw a red mist descend and fortunately was nowhere near a machete when our guide said "This isn't really women's work", but after plenty of blisters and a small dose of sunburn, we returned to the cabin for lunch then departed. Oscar accompanied us, our guide wanting to stay and work with the remaining supply of vodka (honest...), and we were back down 3 hours later after more galloping (lots of fun) and with rather sore legs and buttocks.

Hannah bonding

We took a taxi back to Loja that evening, too tired to face the bus, and settled in a hostel in the middle of town with paper thin walls and noisy neighbours (it was only the TV....). Despite this, after an appalling Chinese (no spring rolls - would you believe it?) we slept well, and rose early the following day to get to the bus station to buy tickets for Guayaquil, Ecuador's second largest city and biggest port. The plan was to visit the botanic garden of Loja before leaving - the Podocarpus is endemic in the area and the only conifer present naturally in Ecuador - but sadly it was closed. We returned to the town centre for a wander around the lively, award winning Saturday market before our bus departed.

In the bus station I realised I had lost my Footprint travel guide - after a fruitless trip back to the hostel I pictured it, lonely and misunderstood, on the back seat of our botanic gardens taxi. Both Hannah and I had a bond with the dirty, well thumbed rages and I raged at my stupidity for losing it.

The bus journey to Guayaquil was long and hot, made better when we got the front seat with extra legroom, a breeze and a view (although seeing some of the overtaking made even me cringe). We pulled into the huge terminal in Guayaquil well after dark and with a certain, guidebook-less trepidation, asked for a hotel that I remembered the name of. Our taxi driver was friendly enough, and when the one place I remembered proved to be full, we moved a couple of blocks down the road and checked in to a cheap, well equipped, air-con hotel.

The centre of Guayaquil is working hard to become safe and tourist friendly; outside of this are regions that are not so salubrious. After venturing across the road for dinner (fast food chicken) we realised the reason behind our cheap hotel - it served "short stay" customers for the most part (a breathless, luggage-less couple checked in next to us). It suited us fine however, and the following morning we had a walk around the district (nicer by day) and a picnic breakfast in a park. Remembering the name of another hostel, we looked it up online and moved out to a suburb, where the air was cleaner, there were other gringos (with guidebooks!).

The new hostel was good- friendly, big rooms, great breakfast, and a menagerie of exotic pets including parrots, a macaw, and a couple of types of little monkey-things (technical term). That afternoon we headed back into the city centre, via the airport - we had been reliably (mis)informed that there were English guidebooks available there. In the centre, we strolled along the newly developed riverfront boulevard, and visited a small, central park that was full of iguanas- it was excellent. Dinner that night was another awful Chinese- there's a definite pattern forming here.

"OK, so I'll steer and you guys do the pedals....."...monkey things

The next day we devoted to botany and then shopping. First of all we visited the Guayaquil Botanic Garden - there was large orchid collection - sadly few were in flower- and many plant and tree species from all over Ecuador. Hannah was frustrated by the lack of labelling. We then went in search of a new guidebook; having found an English language bookshop (useless) we eventually made our way to a huge shopping mall where we found a bigger and better bookshop where, with much relief and Hannah's overwhelming joy, a pristine copy of the Footprint guide lay, a snip at $64 (s#@?!!). We treated ourselves to a film and fast food dinner (good and bad, respectively).

Iguanas in the park!

The morning after saw us catching a bus to Puerto Lopez, further north on the coast, from where we intended to go whale watching. Despite pushy taxi drivers and tour operators doing their best to take us places we did not want to go, we later found ourselves in a nice ("Surely not", I hear you cry!) Italian restaurant, looking forward to ourwhale watching trip the next day.

There she blows! (Humpback whale)

The whale-watching was great. After a slow start, we hit whale-watching gold when we saw two humpbacks performing a series of breaches (jumps) out of the water, only 30 minutes out of Puerto Lopez. There was a calf present too, also practicing it's jumps, and for a hour we followed and watched the whales as they grazed on plankton - they stopped jumping when we got close. It was a wonderful sunny day and we headed back inshore for some snorkelling. Hannah and I chose to sunbathe, albeit very briefly..... All I can say is, I KNOW I should have put suncream on, but it was 20 minutes, that's all.

Introducing.... Lobster Man!

The next day we had booked a walk in the nearby dry tropical forest, close to the national park in the area. Our guide was pretty knowledgeable (although the Latin-labelled plants pleased Hannah a lot more) but spoke only in fast Spanish. By the end of the walk, through pretty, scrubby forest then along a surf-punded beach, I was tired, feeling burnt (from yesterday), and just about run out of Spanish.

On the coast, near Puerto Lopez

We returned to Guayaquil today - guidebook carefully included -and back to our friendly hostel in the suburbs. The bus journey was long and hot (again), and so was walking around the streets of our suburb as we searched for sea-sickness tablets, ATMs and fast food (more! uuurgh.) Tomorrow we leave for the Galapagos- we have 10 days there, and are hoping to book a tour when we get there. The only challenge left is getting dinner tonight. Our fingers are crossed.....

Orchid in the Botanic Garden