Tramping tales for the period 8-16 November 2014 (ECUADOR)

Mainland Ecuador we found ourselves in the excellent hands of Ecole Travel, the company engaged by Bunniks, Australia to take us around. We found a detailed programme waiting for us at our hotel - Hampton Inn, as well as packets of Ecuadorian biscuits, key rings and maps! Just a block away from the hotel, a small camera shop run by someone who could speak English and had a lucky Australian coin in his pocket.... George bought a small Samsung digital camera and was ready to go.

Jaero (a freelance guide who conducts private tours for 8 different travel companies) introduced himself next morning as our guide and driver of his comfortable Chev Rodeo. We were headed for Cuenca (the 3^rd largest town in Ecuador) with a road trip of at least 4 hours. On route we spotted large flocks of black headed vultures scavenging on litter lying beside the road. The land was flat and swampy; the drains (full of hyacinth) contained jacanas, egrets and herons. Definitely good agricultural land as there  were many small roadside fruit stalls; and fields containing bananas, sugar cane, rice, palm oil trees and cacao bushes. Jaero pointed out the tall teka trees grown for timber, a hard fire resistant wood used for the construction of boats.

With diesel selling for $1 a gallon (i.e. approx. 30c per litre!) we found it interesting to learn fuel was cheap due to oil from the Amazon being processed by refineries on the coast. We also noticed each pump at a fuel station was manned by a separate attendant. The speed limit is set at 90 kph and if you’re caught travelling 15 km over the speed limit there is a fine of $100 and 3 days jail! Drink driving, depends on the percentage of alcohol found in one’s blood and jail sentences of up to a year are imposed. Ahead lay the West Andes, partly shrouded in mist, and as we climbed to an altitude of 4 150m Jaero told us the cure for altitude sickness was to eat chocolate. It was good news indeed.

Occasionally we’d stop to examine the produce for sale at a fruit stall (large wava pods containing black seeds surrounded by white pith), to have a good look at cacao bushes or the paper trees (quinua) that grow in the highlands, and upon passing through the moors of the Cajas National Park learnt that, due to the numerous glacial lakes (tarns) in the area it had been set aside as a water resource to supply the city of Cuenca.  Entry into the national park is free but there are still control points to check cars that have been in the area longer than 25 minutes, to see if the occupants had been hunting!

On reaching Cuenca our first stop was at a viewpoint (A Turi) that overlooked the city before we were dropped off at our hotel, the Santa Lucia, a boutique hotel with a glorious old world charm about it. On arrival we were given a purple coloured welcome drink (yuguana). Situated a block away from  city  square we enjoyed a wander watching people having photographs taken with big St Bernard dogs; people selling espumillas (meringue that looked like ice cream) and took a city tour. Perched on the open top of the bus we had to take care not to have our heads taken off by incredibly low overhead power lines. We found ourselves back at A Turi viewpoint and enjoyed a complimentary glass of canelazo (or hot cinnamon). 

      

Cuenca (from A Turi viewpoint)

Jaero recommended a nearby restaurant, the Raymipampa for our dinner. There, we were invited to join a lonely, ever so talkative Canadian truck driver, to join him at his table after overhearing us speak English to the waiter. He proceeded to bore us to death about everything from his state of health, to his dental problems, the works of Ernest Hemmingway, cars and aeroplanes … eventually, on the pretext of having to Skype our daughter, we escaped and fled back to our hotel!

 Santa Lucia hotel

On leaving Cuenca next morning, Jaero’s felt we HAD to see the Panama hat factory. There we discovered the art of making the Ecuadorian hat and discovered how this icon of theirs had its origins confused when hats were sent to workers building the Panama Canal. President Teddy Roosevelt was presented with a hat when he visited the Panama Canal and further confused its history when he called it his Panama hat… These hats are hand woven from the leaves of a plant similar to palms (toquilla), carefully pressed and bleached, some taking as long as 6 months to complete. What an eye opening visit it was – such magnificent hats to be seen in the showroom too.

   

Hat making is a family legacy, passed from one generation to another, a popular tradition and very much part of their everyday lives. From the shoots of the palms tender leaves sprout. These are cooked and air dried out of the sun’s rays, until they curl up and form thin, blond cylindrical fibres. After the weaving of a hat is complete it is washed, bleached and dried in the sun, and then reshaped or pressed. The hat weavers carry out the first stage of these activities at home or the rural areas, then deliver the hats to Cuenca to await bleaching and reshaping. The finer the materials used, the more hats cost. They are never worn in the rain. 

 

George lined up with the photographs of rich and famous wearing their 'Panama' Hats to have his photo inserted in the remaining empty frame!

We left Cuenca, driving upon the Pan-American high-way (a 6 lane highway, still under re-construction in some places, running from Canada  to Argentina), and were soon in the Central Andes (in the district of Canar, altitude 3 200m asl) and heading for Ingapirca, the largest site of Inca ruins in Ecuador. It was a nice surprise to be given half price entry fee for being over 65 years – not many countries offer that to international visitors! We found ourselves speeding up our visit as black clouds threated rain and little more than half way we had to make a dash for the eaves of nearby house for cover, completely soaked, shivering with cold as the rain poured down. Fortunately the tiny café Jaero’s  had earmarked for our lunch was not too far off and, after changing into dry shirts, a bowl of “hen soup” and hot Ecuadorian chocolate went down extremely well. A tremendous clap of thunder was loud enough to set off the alarm in Jaero’s car!

Although we knew a little about the Inca people we did not have a time frame in our minds thus over the coming weeks we were amazed at how similar the ruins were to those of Romans and Greek – even Zimbabwe Ruins… Ingapirca dates back to 1450 and the ruins, with their aqueducts, ceremonial baths, carefully chiselled stones and prominent Temple of the Sun, were an interesting place. Jaero explained that, as believers in the afterlife, the elite were buried together with all their wives and servants to look after them – the latter all buried alive! He showed us huts the Canari people used to live in and where their guinea-pigs (kept for food) warned the occupants of “good or bad energy” visitors coming to their door. The cuy-cuy-cuy squeal sound, accounting for the name guinea pigs are given - “cuy”. 

Following the rain at Ingapirca, came thick mist. For the next two hours we drove without seeing anything except the occasional glimpse of mountains on a very steep and winding road. At one point Jaero pointed out a rough bull ring and explained it was used to gauge the temperaments of wild bulls before some would be sent off to fight in the main urban centres. Ecuador bulls are not killed – only “played” with!

We spent the night in Guamote, a picturesque and intriguing village in the heart of the Andes.  Inti Sisa hotel (sisa meaning sunflower), managed by a young Belgian couple, gave us a very warm welcome and happily allowed us to dry our wet clothes in front of the fire. Despite the chilled  mountain air we took a brisk walk down through the mountain side village admiring narrow cobbled streets; the colourful clothes of the indigenous people - typical of their particular region and not worn for any tourist reason. Mention must be made of the large number of dogs trotting around too.

 

  

Tuesday, 11^th November, saw us up at 6.00 ready to head back the way we had come (50kms) to Alausi. This time, without as much mist hanging around we saw a bit more of the countryside, a multi-coloured quilt of fields and pastures stretching across every valley and up every hillside. What little natural vegetation remained was confined to the odd gully. Each farmer allowed to cultivate one hectare of land providing it is not above 4000m. There were no sign of contours or terraces; instead plenty of introduced pines and eucalyptus to prevent erosion. All livestock appeared to be tethered to prevent them wandering too far.

The train ride we took from Alausi to what is known as the Devil’s Nose was an incredible experience not only because of the precipitous slopes involved but also the fact it had been built by hand with great loss of life, particularly among the 4 200 Jamaicans, Puerto Ricans and convicts engaged to build it using hand tools and explosives. The major challenge of the route selected along the Chanchan River was dealing with the steep slope of the Devil’s Nose, a mountain known to the local people as Condor Pununa nest of the condors). 

The engineers responsible for building the railway opted for the use of “switchbacks” to traverse the slopes involved, this requiring a number of bifurcations to be built by blasting away the walls of rock on the Devil’s Nose to allow the train to “zig zag” its way down hill (or uphill). At each bifurcation a switchman would jump from the train to raise the lever that changes the track, the train would then reverse along the narrow cornice provided until changing tracks again at the next switchback, and so on. According to the men that worked on the railway, the Devil’s Nose was damned by Satan, thereby accounting for the heavy loss of life, and needless to say all the condors left because of the trains and all the blasting. On reaching the tiny station of Sibambe on the floor of the Chanchan valley for morning tea the indigenous people gave us a warm welcome and a display of traditional dancing .A horseman demonstrated his riding skills and photos could be taken with a pair of lamas for a small fee. 

    

It was at Alausi, standing below an enormous mosaic statue of St Peter, that we saw our first hummingbird (a Hillstar hummingbird) feeding in flight on flowers and moving, as they do, from one to the other at incredible speed.  We returned to Guamote for lunch at Inti Sisa before heading north towards Riobamba in the province of Chimborazo where the “Lord of the Mountains”, Volcan Chimborazo rising to a height of 6 310m asl, presides. Predictably, it was covered in clouds but we were able to see some glaciers below the icecap. Volcan Chimborazo is regarded as the closest point on Earth to the Sun due to its position on the equator! 

Typical Ecuadorian landscape

Ahead lay the moors of Urbina and as we entered the province of Cotopaxi it began to rain.  At Latacungu we climbed back into the West Andes and made our way to a guest farm, Hacienda Posada del Tigua, for the night. The access road little more than a muddy track and at the entrance we were delighted to find a pen containing a number of cows, lamas, alpacas, sheep and donkeys. The owner, Margarita (very recently widowed) and her son Pablo, showed us to our room. A bus load of French hikers had taken up the rest of the accommodation available…leaving us feeling very sorry for Jaero as he was without a bed and had to return to the misty narrow roads to find accommodation in a village about 20 kms on. We went to explore the farm but the cold, wet weather soon had us scurrying back inside. The French hikers were huddled round the fire and we took refuge under the blankets in bed it was that cold! Shortly before dinner we were called to join the merry French bunch and Margarite's son welcomed us all with a toast of the warming national Ecuadorian drink before a tasty three course meal, typical of the area was served up.

    

Jaero re-joined us for an early breakfast, knowing at this time of year mornings are generally free of rain and we were best to set off as soon as possible if we had any hope of seeing  Cotopaxi National Park. Sure enough, with patches of blue sky overhead, as we crested the mountain range above Latacungu we were treated to the most magnificent view of three volcanoes, partly obscured by cloud, glistening in the morning sun. The snow-capped peaks of Volcan Illinizas; Cotopaxi itself (the 5^th highest volcano in Ecuador rising to a height of 5 897m asl) and below it, the black jagged peak of Volcan Morurco.

We were ecstatic, stopping to photograph the scene around every corner, but by the time we reached the Cotopaxi NP, the clouds had moved in and all we could see was thick cloud and mist. We stopped at the visitors centre to examine a number of murals, models and diagrams about the park (established in 1975) and the string of volcanoes. Although Cotopaxi had last erupted in 1887; because of the large number of people living nearby it is still regarded as one of the most dangerous volcanoes in the region. George was surprised to find the foot-slopes covered in pine plantations; that feral horses and cattle roam around freely in the park and that the snow line (ice cap) is now 1 000m higher than it used to be. Avalanches occasionally form due to melting snow.

Dodging the occasional mountain biker delighting in the downhill run of Cotapaxi, Jaero kindly drove us on a very pot-holed, corrugated road up into the mist belt until we reached the height of 4 500m. A total absence of vegetation on the mountain and with a strong likelihood of altitude sickness, we were advised to take it easy. 

Before leaving the park we stopped to see Lake Limpiopungo (means clean water), caught sight of some Andean lapwings (plovers) and caratara (a type of vulture?) soaring overhead and just as we left the clouds briefly parted, giving us one last look at what is a really glorious mountain. We gained the impression that the national park must operate on a very small budget as the facilities, roads and camping grounds are all very mediocre and sparse. In any other country of the world, given a volcano like Cotopaxi on its doorstep, the situation would be very different indeed. Cotopaxi’s real potential as a tourist attraction is far from being fully realised.

       

By now we were nearing Quito (popn. 1.6million) the capital of Ecuador. Derived from the words “qui” meaning centre; and “to” meaning earth and the name Quito means just that … Centre of the Earth.  On route we passed through Machachi City, Jaero’s home town (well known for horses and the Chagra (cowboys) as well as a mineral spring and the bottled water, Guitig) before dropping down into the valley with Quito sprawled across it. After settling into our hotel, the Reina Isabel, we wandered through the busy streets towards a park, window shopping. Next day, Jaero proudly took us for a full tour of the old city.

This included a visit to the Basilica del Voto Nacional (built over the period 1885 – 1980), a walk through  Old Town, the Plaza Grande (the great square with its monument to liberty and heroes that achieved the country’s independence), the Carondelet Palace or offices of the President (where we watched the changing of the guards), the Jesuit Convent, and the Church of Compania (or Monastery of San Francisco) where every square inch of the interior was covered in 23 carat gold leaf and engravings great religious significance. The monastery had taken 160 years to build (1605 – 1765), a huge barrel vault adorned with figures in gold leaf; beautifully carved confession boxes; a spiral staircase leading up to an enormous pipe organ; a tower (the tallest in the city) which had twice been destroyed by earthquakes (in 1859 and 1868) and after another in 1987. Restoration work took 20 years! The two huge canvases depicting Hell and the Last Judgment were almost enough to put George off the idea of visiting Satan one day! The whole place certainly being a very impressive one.  Outside, on the huge cobbled plaza, were hundreds of pigeons flying back and forth in a grey cloud formation; settling for food until they were spooked again… While waiting for Jaero to fetch his car, we finally worked out the incessant whistling we could hear… No George! Not starlings … It was traffic police at each intersection and it was to become a very annoying and incessant sound – even with traffic lights, to keep vehicles moving.

El Panecillo, atop a hill overlooking the city, is a 30m high statue (made from 7000 pieces of aluminium and weighing 124 tons) of Lady Maria, the guardian of the city.  Beyond lay Pinchincha, the volcano that overlooks Quito, completely dominating the landscape. In our free time and on Jaero advice, we went to see the cultural museum (its focus being the archaeology and metal working skills of the “first people”). En route to and from our hotel we fell prey to one of the local markets – stuffed full of  colourful garments, fabrics and souvenirs, stopped for the tastiest hot chocolate ever and chose to have dinner at a Mexican restaurant with this character prancing around outside with his bugle trying to lure folk in- we gladly obliged and had an excellent meal. .

The day had arrived when we looked forward to reaching the Equator Line at latitude 00⁰00⁰00⁰, otherwise known as the Middle of the World. On behalf of Pieter and Ruth Smith we were determined to ascertain, once and for all, just how strong the Coriolis force is - (centrifugal forces caused by spinning of the earth) and whether it is strong enough to cause water to swirl clockwise or anti-clockwise, depending on which side of the hemisphere, one stands in. As we drove towards the equator it became very apparent that the countryside was a lot drier and the hillsides scarred by erosion. The snow-capped peak of Volcan Cayambe providing views to admire.

At the Museo Intinan –its manifesto is “bridging of the cultures” we were put into a small group with a local guide who first described the lifestyles of the Ecuadorian Indians – George intrigued to hear men had their penises strapped upwards by a cord around their waist and that clay pots were used for burials; another style of hat came into focus for this region - we watched a man making one from sheep wool, stiffened with corn flour.  The heavy weight of these hats allows their use as a weapon by throwing them at someone. And they ensure good posture as the wearer needs to stand upright when wearing one! And then the equator line… where our guide explained the workings of various sundials surrounding us before using a few leaves to indicate which way water swirls when drained from a tub. A perfect demonstration of the Coriolis force in action as we watched the swirl of water change direction from one side of the equator to the other within the space of a few metres. Further, he invited us to try walking along the equator with our eyes shut and arms outstretched – impossible. While balancing an egg on the head of a nail was possible on the Equator line…

Not far from Museo Intinan the very imposing Union of South American Nations

(UNASUR) building was under construction - the equivalent of the European Union.

Leaving the Equator line we moved from the West Andes back into the central Andes traveling a road through the steepest terrain imaginable as it twisted and turned as it steadily dropped down into the valley of the Guallabamba River. The countryside covered in “carrot trees” (a type of Acacia) with lichens and bromeliads growing on them. Bromeliads also formed a conspicuous component of the ground cover, even growing on the face of steep cuttings. White roofed greenhouses covering large tracts of land in different direction were for roses – 400 varieties of roses grown in the area, it was no wonder one could buy a bunch of 24 for only $5! This is one of Ecuador’s major export and their roses sent to Russia and the Netherlands in the main.

We were gradually nearing Otavalo but finding we had a bit of time on our hands Jaero took us to the edge of Lago San Pablo in order to view Volcan Imbabua on the opposite side (its peak rising to 4 800 m asl); then on to Cotacachi City to see the leather work being made there (the manufacture of jackets, boots, saddlery and anything leather). The streets lined with leather shops – not for us, we bought guinea pig purses for the younger grandkids in the little market square where Jaero was waiting for us with the picnic lunch that had held up our start that morning. Tuna and Olive sandwiches on tasty brown bread was simply delicious that George found it hard to believe he was devouring olives! Glad we didn’t forgo the wait on the street corner for its safe delivery!

Not far off lay Peguche where at Casa El Gran Condor we watched womenfolk weaving, spinning wool and saw how cochineal bugs (feeding on cacti) are squashed to form the red dye used to stain the wool. At the home of Nanda Manachi and his musical family – proud makers of Andean musical instruments; we watched him making, and playing a flute made from reeds before his sons joined him for a concert. Later, departing the town Jaero pointed out the number of people working as Yachacs (witchdoctors or shaman) to help people rid themselves of “bad energy”. Like the Ngangas of Zimbabwe, Yachacs are regarded as wise men with skills developed over generations in respect of medicinal plants, healing techniques and the energy properties of one’s body. Apparently they regard nature as a “spiritual energy system” and they occupy a special place in Ecuadorian society. Their main task is to heal, relieve and search for energetic balance between individuals and nature. We subsequently learnt black guinea pigs are very much in demand by Yachacs, as upon dissection, they reveal what is wrong with a patient.

No one could have been more surprised than ourselves when we finally reached Hacienda Pinsaqui, our lodgings for the night. This huge, sprawling 300 year old historic home, once a factory with 1000 people working there and now a ‘hostel’ with 32 rooms had been in the family for 7 generations. Our bedroom had two bathrooms and a fireplace. At 7.00 the sound of bombas (drums) and pingullos (flutes) wafted through to our room and we were promptly drawn to following the cheerful sound arising from a large hall across the way. There we found 30 other guests seated listening to the music- delightedly we joined the throng and very soon waiters were serving us all delicious hot pastries and hot ‘welcome’ drink on the house as the five piece Ecuadorian band played. The owner of the Hacienda welcomed us with a short history of his property before mentioning dinner would be served in the dining room further away. All very elegant and cultured as was the meal. The chill got to us walking back to our room thus it was all the more comforting to find a delicious chocolate on our pillow, the fire blazing and hot water bottles in our bed… we were living far above our normal standard!

Our bedroom the blue door to the left and the lounge and breakfast room spread away further left.

Otavalo (means “ poncho spread out” for everyone to share) was yet another highlight of our journey through Ecuador. The day began very early at the animal market – Against a backdrop of Volcan Cotacachi the incredible sight, sounds and smells to behold were not for the squeamish. Among numerous cattle and squealing pigs, taking care not to stand on any excrement, we did our best to blend in with the locals. Breakfast was being served in a row of tented eating places working flat out - the aroma of cooked pigs (el hornado), vats of boiling cow intestines and stomachs (cascarita) and empanada pastries bubbling away in oil, hung heavy in the air. Side stepping pigs of every colour; looking sympathetically at boxes containing rabbits and sacks carting guinea pigs, as well as puppies and kittens; cages of quails; and chickens bound up together. George was particularly taken aback at the aggression shown by the roosters used for cock fighting. Jaero explaining the origins of indigenous people present by their different types of clothes.

From the animal market we moved on to the Plaza de Poncho, considered to be the largest market of its kind in Latin America, open every day of the week. Being a Saturday it was even busier than usual as non-stall owners were also present selling their wares. Finding it all rather overwhelming given the amazing array of goods available, we wandered around for an hour or so before buying gifts for the family. It was here that we spotted very hairy overhead electricity lines! They turned out to be tiny bromeliads (also known as “air plants”) growing thickly along the power lines.

Later that afternoon we entered the district of Pichincha on the way to our next destination El Quinche and passed a procession of people on foot. A pilgrimage in progress (with police escort) making their way to the Church of the Virgin de el Quinche, a highly significant Catholic sanctuary. Jaero took us into the church where a service was in progress and we watched the priest flinging holy water over hordes of people flapping photos of the Saint and any other religious ……. even the festival programme  around the alter and down the aisles.  Jaero lit some candles and paid his respects to the Virgin for good reason as she is the patron saint of the drivers in Ecuador. Outside, crowds thronged the cathedral square and side-streets waiting for the entertainment scheduled throughout the weekend.   National dancers of all ages included cowboys (chagra) dressed in samaro (pants like “chaps” made of animal skins) and girls in a wonderful array of ornate costumes waited some given moment to begin different routines.  The tiny toddlers stealing our hearts… It was a lively afternoon but very hot to be standing around.

Time marched on and we turned towards the East Andes along a highway (undergoing construction) and terminating in the Amazon basin. On entering the Cayambe-Coca National Park the sight of natural vegetation instead of the endless mosaic of farmland, made for a welcome change. 

There were paper trees, tall bromeliads (achupalla) among the moorlands, and a grass called zig-zag the stems of which are used for making kites. We stopped to photograph the Papallacta Lagoon, a popular trout fishing spot, which lies on the floor of an ancient crater belonging to Volcan Chacana, its slopes now heavily forested. Not long thereafter we reached the hot springs of Papallacta (Termas de Papallacta). We really could not have asked for a nicer place in which to conclude our trip around Ecuador! Our room with a heated floor was only “a hop and a skip” away from a series of tiled hot pools each steaming away in the cold air. After a major re-pack of our gear we had a nice long soak and feeling completely relaxed, took a walk around the rest of the resort during the course of which we spotted another hummingbird (possibly a sapphire wing?) darting around. The altitude - 3 250m – so we warily took it easy.

16 November, our last day in Ecuador, surrounded by mist and slipping back to our room whenever we felt inclined we spent a lovely, lazy morning enjoying the thermal pools at Papallacta,  in spite of  light rain falling.  Too wet for taking any trails up the mountain we ended up browsing around the National Park Information centre close to Jaero’s pick up time and came across mention of animals like spectacled bears, mountain tapirs, torrent ducks and marsupial frogs in the area. Also discovered there were no more than 100 condors left in the country.  We felt quite ‘down’ to be leaving this beautiful place and we’d so loved  Ecuador thanks to Jaero but the time had come to bid farewell to the man who’d driven from Quito to collect and deliver us to the airport outside Quito, two hours away, for our flight to Lima, capital of Peru. 

Tramping tales for the period 4-8 November 2014 (GALAPAGOS)

Leaving for the Galapagos Islands involved the most elaborate, lengthy check in procedure involving queues, inspection of luggage and the obtainment of visitor cards for entry into the Galapagos Islands. However, by midday we were over the Pacific, 1 000km east of the mainland, and preparing to land at Seymour Airport on Baltra Island, rather amazed at how flat and dry it looked from the air.  There we were met by Eddie (Spaghetti) our escort as far as the Red Mangrove Lodge on the island of Santa Cruz.

     

The first thing we noticed on Baltra Island was the foundations and floor slabs of numerous, abandoned buildings. Later we learnt that during World War 2 thousands of US servicemen and Ecuadorian personnel built and occupied an American air base on Baltra. A combination of habitat destruction, predation by humans, dogs and cats, and competition with feral goats, apparently led to the complete extinction of Baltra’s land iguana population. 

 

We crossed the Itabaca Channel between Baltra and Santa Cruz on a ferry, before travelling in a Toyota double cab along a pot holed road (gravel in places) to Puerto Ayora (population 17 000) which lay 42km away. The transition in vegetation was dramatic – changing from the dry lowlands, covered in grey (leafless) sandalwood trees to the epiphyte covered Scalesia forests in the highlands. As we drew closer to Puerto Ayora more and more signs of man-made disturbances became apparent -  banana plantations, fields of maize, cassava, paw paws, and citrus growing behind fences made from Erythrina (coral bean) cuttings all actively sprouting; livestock in the form of cattle, poultry and dogs; scruffy looking shacks; and a townscape bustling with cars and trucks. I make this point deliberately because most people, like us, may have expected to find an environment lacking intrusions of this nature. 

Our room at the Red Mangrove Lodge was beautifully positioned overlooking a wooden deck frequented by dozens of small marine iguanas. Most of the benches and sunbeds available were occupied by sea lions; some fast asleep, some dozing, others barking and arguing with each other. Amongst the pitch black boulders on the mangrove lined shoreline were bright red crabs (sally light foot crabs); frigate birds circled overhead and tiny Darwin finches hopped around.

We loved Red Mangrove Lodge... (Photos of sea lions on left of collage, courtesy of George Margel)

Pablo, our guide for the duration of our Galapagos adventure was a 30 year old who had grown up fishing with his uncle and gained a knowledge of all the islands. It wasn’t until the conflict that inevitably arose between fishermen and the parks authorities that he became alerted to the idea of conservation. This led him to a five year course on ecology at the University of Santa Cruz and he became a guide. He lives his work, is a keen photographer, goes camping and diving in his free time and often helps researchers and film makers in the field.

Pablo took us to see Los Gemelos calderas, the remains of two extinct volcanoes in the highlands and he was able to point out the alien vegetation problems they are having to deal with – cedar trees (brought in for timber production); vines in the form of passion fruit; and blackberries smothering entire hillsides (the seeds of which are bird dispersed over the entire archipelago) to name but a few of the 700 species of plants that have been introduced to the area thus far.

We visited a privately owned tract of land where a large number of naturally occurring giant tortoises still roam freely moving at the beginning of each year down to the warmer / drier lowland areas to lay their eggs, and then back again.  If not attacked by beetles, ants, rats or pigs (all introduced species), their eggs hatch after 5 months. We were taken to see a muddy depression in which they lie – sometimes for several days in an attempt to drown the ticks that cling to their bodies.

We stuck up a friendship with a delightful Russian couple, George and Helena Margel (now American citizens living in New York).  George, in the business of supplying limousines for rich and famous people and film stars; Lena, an archivist in the library of performing arts.     

A morning of kayaking and snorkelling in the Itabaca channel meant George had to endure a lecture on how to paddle and wear a life jacket as we slowly paddled along the edge of the channel looking for white tipped reef sharks. Only a handful chose to snorkel- George amongst them, taking his camera which he knew to be waterproof. Tragedy stuck when it became flooded with seawater and ceased working! He was speechless with horror … paralysed by the thought of not being able to take any more photos at this crucial stage of the trip and having possibly lost everything already on the SD picture card within. Consequently, it became a long, somewhat miserable drive back to the lodge knowing he’d be reliant upon Lea’s iPod as a camera and he could only buy a new one, once back on mainland Ecuador.

After a quick lunch, we moved on to Isabela Island, 4 640 km² in size and largest (and youngest) of all the islands in the Galapagos, lying 50 km away. Together with another 36 passengers we traveled across in a large boat powered by two 200 HP engines; plunging through the waves, the hull slicing through them like butter, sending up large sheets of spray in the process.  On route, several albatross and a large flock of Galapagos petrels were sighted. Two hours of pounding across the ocean most people (Lena in particular) had had enough and we were glad to reach harbour – itself full of interest … blue-footed boobies sitting on the shore, pelicans roosting on boats and sting rays gliding across its sandy shallows. Another Red Mangrove Lodge awaited us with a warming hot chocolate to welcome us and a lovely room on the beachfront. While there was still enough light we took a walk along the beach and as the sun set, the volcano peak ahead of us appeared to be erupting, casting  a beautiful red  glow across the wet sand.        

An early start with a hefty snack pack each, we were driven up the slopes of Volcan Sierra Negra, the second largest active volcano in the world (last erupted October 2005). Surrounded by mist we disembarked at the ranger station and began walking towards the rim which lay at an altitude of 1 200m asl.; the damp air swirling around us and the vegetation on either side of the track little else than guava trees (another introduced species) somewhat disguised by thick growths of lichen and moss. Down slope, lay land used for cattle farming with large tussocks of a grass that had been introduced as feed, and weeds including all too familiar plants such as black jacks and thistles. 

From the rim of Volcan Sierra Negra, we had the most amazing view over the 10km wide caldera with its pitch black lava strewn floor and in the south, spilling over the rim into the crater, a mass of white clouds. To the east were long views over the slopes of the volcano and the ocean. Lea was delighted to see two mockingbirds and spent time trying to capture them on her iPod camera while Pablo provided an interesting explanation of how the islands had formed and were grouped according to their age. Isabela,the product of merging six large volcanoes into a single seahorse shaped mass; is one of the youngest (approx. 2 million years old). He explained how the archipelago of islands, rocks and islets known as the Galapagos “float” on what is known as the Nazca plate, and are slowly moving in a SE direction. It lies above a hotspot where the earth’s crust is being melted from below by a mantle plume, the first islands forming about at least 8 million years ago, and some of the older ones having long since disappeared below the sea.

(Photos courtesy of Mario and Gabrielle Bondi)

       

Much to Pablo’s obvious dismay three people within our group, George and an Italian couple, Mario and Gabrielle Bondi, wished to walk further and see Volcan Chico which lay 3-4 kms away and involved crossing a rough, steeply descending lava field. It meant Pablo would have to split the group and delay lunch on a farm for the three. Setting off at a fairly brisk pace (after the slow amble up the volcano) it only took an hour before the four of us were into a barren landscape very different to anything we’d seen as yet. There, still hoping we’d be dissuaded from continuing Pablo made one more attempt to suggest we turned back and re-join the group but, sensing the indignation of the Italians who claimed this was what they had paid to come and see, we pushed on. In surrounds completely devoid of vegetation (except for the occasional cactus), masses of folded lava, collapsed lava tubes, holes and pits from which hot gases (fumaroles) emerged, we finally arrived at a point where we had the most stupendous view of the rest of Isabela Island. Mario and Gabrielle triumphantly unrolled their Italian flag and had a photo taken of themselves on the top of Volcan Chico - any one would have thought they had just climbed Everest! To see them snapping away with their cameras, while George had nothing, left him green with envy and so it only thanks to the Italians that he has any photos at all.  

The the sun beating down and temperatures becoming unpleasantly hot they retraced their steps (George found himself wishing he had never followed Pablo’s advice to wear long pants!). Once back at the rim of Volcan Sierra we were enveloped in mist once more and on the way down managed to obtain some excellent views of the rarely seen vermillion flycatcher (the male brilliant red in colour, its mate yellow).

Despite the late hour we stopped for our lunch at  a very self-sufficient  small farm where everything served up was home grown and home cooked by a middle aged couple who do everything themselves. There, we watched a video of the 2005 eruption of Volcan Sierra. Earlier, Lea had enjoyed the fine lunch (popcorn served as the garnish to soup!) in the company of George and Lena before the farmer took them to see the outside fire on which he’d cooked the main meal and a small section of his very  productive fruit and vegetable farm. For unknown reason, a sudden sharp pain in Lea’s wrist prevented her from holding anything not even a fork and  she had to keep it tightly bound up for the rest of our time in the Galapagos.

    

     

A cruise slowly around the shoreline of the harbour at Puerto Villamil aboard a small dingy to observe blue footed boobies and Galapagos penguins before reaching the marine iguana lava fields followed next day. The lava field serves as the breeding ground for numerous marine iguanas. They lay no more than 3 eggs and, as in the case of turtle hatchling, many of the newly hatched iguanas are eaten by herons and crabs. We also found it interesting how the dry (north facing) aspect of each bit of lava in the area was black, whilst the moist (south facing) aspect was covered in lichen. The walk enabled us to get some good close up views of these creatures as well as some white tipped reef sharks (tintoreras) that rest up during the day in a narrow channel (formerly a lava tube) filled with seawater. Once back on the boat the two Georges prepared to go snorkelling with Pablo and thoroughly enjoyed  swimming amongst turtles, stingrays, pufferfish, scores of damselfish, bright blue and chocolate coloured starfish, coral and masses of sea urchins. They also saw a marine iguana swimming.

We returned to the hotel for a shower and a quick lunch, and by midday were on our way back to Santa Cruz on a much calmer sea; this time on the Red Mangrove’s boat powered by two massive V8 Yamaha engines which delivered us directly to the Lodge’s little wharf as the tide was right… That afternoon we strolled along to the Charles Darwin Research Station a ten minute walk from our Lodge, to learn about the tortoise breeding programme they run there. The saddleback tortoises frequenting the islands are cactus feeders with much longer necks and legs (enabling them to reach up to a height of 1.7m) than giant tortoises. Soil depths on each of the island’s beaches determines the percentage of male and female tortoises that hatch due to the critical influence of temperature. At 29⁰C the eggs hatch as females whereas at 28⁰C they hatch as males. We learnt that with only one old male left on the island of Espanola the tortoise population declined to the point that they eventually brought in a more virile, younger male from the San Diego zoo to renew the gene pool.  

There are so many things that one learns on a trip like this it is almost mind boggling. For example we never realised that the stems of cacti actually begin as leaves, gradually losing the spines as they thicken and harden. Nor did we know about Darwin’s finches being plagued by a bird pox carried by mosquitoes, or the introduced flies that lay their eggs in finch nests to enable the hatching maggots to suck the blood of the nestlings, eventually causing their demise. 

 

As our Galapagos adventure drew to a close we wandered into the village and enjoyed the antics of sea lions and brown pelicans at fish market.

Thank goodness we hadn’t taken a more normal tourist cruise-based visit to the Galapagos and, we considered ourselves lucky not to have been there during the busy season. Although we had much enjoyed our trip and were sad it had come to an end we were a trifle disappointed in our top “bucket listed” destination due to high expectations! Considering the Galapagos sits on the equator, all our grey overcast days tended to take the colour out of the landscape and given all the articles we have read about the Galapagos and the documentaries seen on TV with stunning images of iguanas slithering down the slopes of volcanoes into the craters below, Galapagos hawks catching their young and manta rays offshore … perhaps it is all David Attenborough’s fault! Regardless, one needs to spend far longer than 5 days in a place such as the Galapagos.

One way or another we were looking forward to a journey through the Andes, to buying a new camera and our next adventure ….  

Tramping tales for the period 30 October - 3 November 2014 (BRAZIL)

Brazil 

After our aircraft had wound its way between the masses of towering cumulus clouds that dominated the east coast of South America, our first sight was the sprawling city of Sao Paulo, the largest metropolis in the southern hemisphere with over 11 million inhabitants and we were struck by the veritable sea of densely packed residential areas and the huge number of high rise buildings as we descended. Nine hours in the air under our belt and a long wait ahead of us before leaving at midnight for Foz du Iguacu, we knew full well it was going to be a long day.

Not unexpectedly the first word we learnt in Spanish was “sanitarios”, meaning restrooms, and there discovered that in South America one does not flush toilet paper down the loo, but place it in a bin instead! Something off-putting initially for us gringos but with the passage of time we became quite accustomed to. The minimal amount of seating in the airport rather strange, especially with a six hour wait ahead of us. Patiently sitting outside Gate 17D for what seemed like an eternity we eventually resorted to eating the liquorice ALL SORTS Sacky had given us as a present!

Landing in  Foz du Iguacu in the early hours, we were greatly relieved to find a driver  waiting to take us to the Harbour Hotel Colonial (we’d booked this over the internet months beforehand); relieved to find the hotel not too far we staggered into the foyer, obtained  change  to tip the driver and porter; and tumbled into bed … Our plan had been to catch up on sleep the first day  but people jabbering outside had us awake by 7.00 after only 4 hours of fitful sleep.  It was time to visit the legendary Iguacu Falls. The National Park entrance not much more than a few kilometres away not that we knew that as we caught a bus outside our hotel.

Entry fees paid, a NP bus took us through the park and dropped us off at the entrance to the Waterfall Trail - 2km along the edge of the canyon-like Iguacu River providing fresh views of the falls around every corner.  

With over 275 discrete cataracts (depending on the flow / river level) varying height between 60 - 82m, spread out along a crest of 2.7km and each pouring water into the muddy river below, the Iguacu Falls are an incredible sight. Not as high as the Victoria Falls, nor with an average flow as large as that coming over the Niagara, but with its boardwalk that takes visitors out into the spray zone above what is known as the Devil’s Throat we found the falls and its surrounds had been very well planned and developed. And just imagine our delight upon finding not just one, but several, real live COATIS (quitis) with their long wobbly noses and striped tails, terrorising the public stealing food from unsuspecting kids; inspecting rubbish bins (George’s backpack included); leaping upon restaurant tables and causing people to flee in all directions! They reminded us of large banded mongooses behaving like baboons!   

      

Apart from all the butterflies that never fail to attract – we saw plenty of goannas; numerous vulture-like birds, black in colour, circling above the falls; large black weavers (with red rumps) making coarse pendulous nests from palm leaves; and perhaps most intriguing of all – tiny, fast flying swifts diving through the seemingly impenetrable mass of water pouring over the falls, to reach their nests (or roosts) behind the veil of water. Faced with the prospect of being swept away, we wondered how chicks survive their first flight when the time comes to leave the nest.

One thing that we found disappointing at the Iguacu Falls was the dearth of information about its geological and hydrological characteristics, or about the plant and animal life that frequent its surrounds. Nor were the primary cataracts of the falls named in spite of the viewpoints created opposite each of them. Nor were there any field guides for sale. 

    

Not far from the entrance to the National Park lay the Parque das Aves, a bird park set in the midst of a rainforest that is widely regarded as the most spectacular bird park in Latin America. Established in 1994 by a South African, Dennis Croucamp; it offers sanctuary to over 140 species of birds, 50% of which were rescued from mistreatment and trafficking.  Parrots and parakeets galore, multi coloured toucans, macaws, curassows and southern screamers, to name just a few, were all contributing to the cacophony of calls that made the forest literally ring with sound. Together with brilliant red ibis, flamingos, cranes, owls, king vultures and Harpy eagles (the most powerful birds of prey in the world), not to mention the large selection of reptiles (such as boa constrictors, caimans, iguanas and anacondas); monkeys (like marmosets) and butterflies in a well-stocked butterfly house, all made our visit to the park an exceptional experience.

Consequently, in spite of our jet lagged state we had an extraordinarily busy and enjoyable day, and considered it to be a great start to our South American adventure. Footsore and tired we walked back to our hotel, had an early supper and headed for bed.

As ex Kariba residents and George’s long standing interest in large dams and hydro-electricity had us take a day trip to Itaipu Dam, second only to the Three Gorges Dam in China. The dam, with a crest length 8km (made of concrete, rock and earth fill) lay 30 kms away on the Parana River and at one stage during its construction over the period 1975 - 1983, at a cost of $18 billion, there were 40 000 workers on site.

Itaipu dam 

Aboard a double decker bus we were driven around the site, with a number of stops at locations overlooking the spillway; the main wall (with its 10m diameter penstocks each delivering 160 tons of water per second to the 20 turbines below, generating 14 000 MW of power); and the lake shore. At one point we were in Paraguay for a short while.  

We subsequently found out that like most large dams there was a lot of controversy over the construction of Itaipu dam. Upstream of the dam was not only 700 sq km of forest, native settlements and the homes of 8 000 people, but also a waterfall, the Guila Falls, even more spectacular than the Iguacu Falls with twice the flow rate of the Niagara. Apparently months before the Guila Falls were destined to be inundated thousands of tourists flocked to see them for the last time and the footbridge that served to take visitors out to the falls collapsed, killing 80 people! Inundation took 14 days and on 27 Oct. 1982 the Guila Falls disappeared from sight for ever. Typical of engineers in those days the director of the Itaipu Dam project is said to have claimed they were not destroying the falls, just substituting the spectacle they represented with a spillway!    

    

Shortly after our visit to the Itaipu Dam it began pouring with rain and at one stage we feared our planned excursion to “Argentina by Night” may not materialise. However, at 5.00pm, together with three other couples far younger than ourselves, and a driver called William to see to all the formalities at the border, we set off to visit what was claimed to be the “Best Duty Free Shop in the World”! Although humming with activity and very pricey, had it not been for the beautiful rainbow and sunset that developed outside, for us the shopping experience was a huge let down.  The others, shopped out, wished to do something else and the only person with a smattering of English was delegated to try and explain the rest of the groups wish to visit an ‘isybar’. Always willing to go with the flow we nodded to whatever…. Turned out to be an Ice Bar where we donned fur-lined coats and mittens in readiness for the next allotted half hour within an icy walled room full of ice sculptures and an ice bar laden with colourful cocktails in glasses made of ice. We swallowed down two vodka laced chocolate cocktails to fend off the cold and Lea’s feet clad in slip-slops froze as did her nose! 

      

From back to front – Lea and George; Rafael and Joelma; Tiago and Renata; Cleverson and Vanessa

The Ice Bar experience set the tone for the rest of the evening and welded our group together. The young ones taking care of us oldies over dinner together  at  Te Amare Maitena restaurant where we enjoyed a huge three course meal washed down by numerous jugs  of “cervejo” which made for a noisy and happy trip back to our hotel.

       

Our flight out of Foz du Iguacu to Lima (in Peru) at 9.00 pm on our third day in Brazil gave us another  opportunity to revisit the Iguacu Falls and  spend time with the coatis before relaxing beside the pool at the hotel with a glass of local draught beer (Chopp). We arrived in Lima well after midnight relieved by the knowledge our hotel (the Costa da Sol Ramada) was right outside the entrance to the airport. However, our luggage took some time to locate as it had been set aside for onward delivery to Guayaquil in Ecuador, our next stop!

            

Tramping tales for the period 20 Sept - 30 Oct 2014 (SOUTH AFRICA)

After three months away traversing the southern hemisphere on what can only be described as the “trip of a lifetime” - here we are in the UK, of all places, feeling like  “stunned mullet”.

Why? Shortly after arriving in New Zealand we heard our daughter Justine had been diagnosed with cancer, initially presumed to be ovarian, but currently regarded as a rare type of cancer in the pelvic region that has yet to be accurately determined.  Consequently, Westfield Farm in Tetney is where we want to be at present…

Regarding our wonderful trip - the best we can do to satisfy the curiosity of our readers is to provide a brief overview of all the things we have seen and the places we have been to thrown together with a few photographs as evidence! We apologise, especially as Lea, the primary author of our blog, is otherwise occupied. 

Our minds are no longer looking back but trying to come to grips with what the future may hold.

      

South Africa (20 Sept – 30 October)

Things got off to a bad start in South Africa when after drawing some cash (rand) from an ATM at the airport in East London we were taken for a ride by two cunning, ever so pleasant African gentlemen, who insisted that we must cancel our transaction before they could use the ATM themselves. “Cancelling our transaction” was their way of saying “let us show you by giving us your card”! A scam we found so confusing on arrival in our former homeland that we promptly had to cancel our ANZ credit card before our trip was hardly off the ground!

Our destination was the small coastal settlement of Haga Haga, an hour north of East London, where Lea’s niece Talya was to marry Bryan, the youngest son of Mike and Diana Nicolay. Needless to say, like most weddings and gatherings of family members, it was an event that did not pass without its fair share of drama (including atrocious weather on the day of the wedding itself and Mike Nicolay being bitten by a dog); fun (barbeques galore; walks along the coast; a men’s golf day; bachelor and hen’s parties...); delays in erecting the marquee and the frantic preparations that followed … nevertheless Talya and Bryan’s wedding turned out to be another of those unforgettable affairs that will live on in the minds of all those that attended.

After the wedding we flew north to our old stamping grounds in KwaZulu Natal. With so many friends we rotated from one to the other as a “pass the parcel”. Our thanks go out to them all for their hospitality, the entertainment they provided for us and their continued friendship …

….. Raymond and George-Anne Rogers (in Maidstone); JG and Lynne Osterberg (Mt Edgecombe); Horse and Sue Davies and John and Maureen Pattrick (Hilton); Chris and Hilary Thorne (Howick); Coralie and Hilary Squires (Westville); John and Kate van Rooyen with Lea’s godson Jono (in Westville); Pete and Ruth Smith (in Glen Anil); Alison and Bob Cassells (Berea); Mike and Bronwyn Brett and Andy and Lorraine Tribe (Westville). We caught up with Kit Veitch, Lou and Geoff Pullen, Dallas and Rose Reed, Roddy Ward, Mike Boulle and Tony de Freitas too. 

……  Shan Charter (in Durban North, where we had the added pleasure of seeing our Gee family. The Charter Clan gathered on our last night before Saxon returned to Perth with our grand-daughters Talia and Erin.

A Spurwing Goose arrived for afternoon tea in Dallas and Rose Reed’s garden with its beautiful view of the Hawaan forest and the sea.  

Lea spent a very happy afternoon with her Northlands Primary teaching colleagues…

A remarkable highlight was definitely playing mum and dad to young cranes… Henry (Horse) Davies took us to see the Crane Foundation’s Sanctuary outside Nottingham Road where, dressed in crane suits we had the privilege of taking young Wattled Cranes for a walk.

The Thornes took us to see the unusual memorial to Nelson Mandela outside Howick; Mike and Bronwyn took us up to the Underberg for a weekend in the Drakensberg and while in Durban we enjoyed the lovely gardens, Zimbabwean sculptures and lunch at ‘Makaranga’ (in Kloof) and the newly reconstructed, but poorly planned, beachfront.

Needless to say we were spoilt rotten wherever we stayed. Leading the nomadic life that we do the joy of returning to a place like KwaZulu Natal is thanks to our many friends who provide us with that warmth and meaning of friendship. Come the end of October it was time to move on; flying across the Atlantic Ocean and see what South America had to offer.  

Watch this space!