Santeri and I spent our first proper day in Rio de Janeiro checking out the classic Copacabana and Ipanema beaches (in cloudy weather, unfortunately), watching some surfers and futvolistas (beach volley played with no hand contact allowed - the players use their heads, chests, knees and feet to control the ball, and somehow manage to make it look easy), and trying out a few classic Rio eateries.
For lunch, we headed to a place called "Good News", which offered a huge buffet of sushi, feijhao, eggs, rice, salad, fish, chicken, and several different meats. The twist is you pay by the kilogram, regardless of what exactly you eat. I went relatively light (salad with eggs and a bit of chicken) and ended up paying about 10 reals or 4 dollars. Santeri´s more Atkins-inspired meat extravagance cost maybe 8 dollars. Not bad at all.
After wandering along the fine white-sand beaches for most of the afternoon, we grabbed caipirinhas at the Garota de Ipanema, the bar where the classic "Girl from Ipanema" song was born. We then took a cab to the Botafogo neighbourhood, to follow several friends´recommendations to eat at the Porcao ("Big Pig") restaurant there. Upon arrival, we immediately realized our board shorts and flip-flops fell a little short of the dress code, but the staff were great about pretending not to notice. We were shown to our table, ordered our wine (an Argentinian Malbec) and waiters immediately started bombarding us with offers for different dishes. The concept is basically you pay one fixed price, then get all the food you can eat. The twist is, unlike a traditional buffet, here they actually bring the food to you at your table. The challenge, as we quickly found out, was to figure out what the best meats (since meat really did make up 90% of the meal - doc Atkins would be so proud!) were and not fill up on the lesser stuff. We had a tip, again from our French-Brazilian expat buddy Guillaume, to go for Picanha Nobre, which indeed turned out to be one of the best dishes of the night. It´s a thin slice of rare beef, a cut I haven´t come across outside Brazil and Argentina. Aside from Picanha, we we stuffed ourselves with Filet Mignon, lamb, pork, and a dozen other meats as well as onion rings, fries, fried banana and manioca to throw in some carbs. Needless to say, we were absolutely full at the end of the evening. The whole bonanza cost about EUR 50, which is certainly pricey by local standards, but might get you just one good steak back home - here we had the equivalent of 6 for the price of 1!
After a quick shower back at the hostel, we rounded off the night by checking out Rio Scenarium, a funky take on a nightclub. They had a live band playing a mix of samba, forro, bossanova, and whatever else they could think of, and the decor was interesting to say the least: collections of old clocks, paintings, huge painted vases, life-size dolls, and a 1920s Ford convertible to start with. The place was pretty empty by the time we got there (around midnight), and we learned that during the week even Rio completely quiets down by 2am. Well, that´s one stereotype dispelled - apparently even Brazilians need sleep if they have to get to work the following morning. Had a couple of interesting chats with some locals, and got back to our hostel by 2am, to recharge before another hard day of lying on the beach.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Buzios
Despite the name, Buzios is not busy as hell, in fact quite the opposite. We arrived in the middle of the low season, although apparently last weekend was quite packed due to a Brazilian holiday on Thursday and an ensuing long weekend. Never mind, it's nice to be away from the crowds for a bit.
The first thing we noticed about Buzios, even before we got there, was how friendly the people are. On the bus, we needed to make a phone call, so asked a few fellow passengers where we might find a phone. One guy, maybe in his mid-twenties, spoke some English and offered to make the call for us on his cell phone. He would absolutely not accept the small payment we offered. As we were calling our hotel, a woman on the bus overheard us and asked if we were going to Telhado Verde. She mentioned she lives right next to our posada, and that we would need to get out of the bus 5km before the actual Buzios bus stop (we had no idea about this up to now). She showed us where to get out, and while we were getting our bags from the bus, her husband and two kids showed up to pick her up. And, of course, they offered us a much appreciated ride - which was great, considering we had a lot of bags and no idea how to walk to the guest house.
The same theme continued the following morning, as we wandered to the beach in search of surf lessons. The day was rainy, and none of the surf schools had their stalls up, so we wandered up to youngsters selling fruit on the beach to ask where we could get boards. One of the girls, Elo (short for Eloise) happened to study English and explained that her brother works for one of the surf schools, but they were at another location that day. Instead, she offered to teach Santeri using her cousin's board. Initially we agreed on a 20 real price, but she was so happy to practice her English that eventually she offered the lesson for free (not that we tried to haggle). The lesson itself wasn't as successful as we'd hoped; she only had access to one board, so we had to take turns. In addition, the board in question was a tiny 5-footer, which was definitely too small for me and also a bit too challenging for Santeri's first surf experience. We did have a lot of fun, however, and she kindly got in touch with her brother to make sure we had an instructor and boards for the following day.
For the evening, we rented a buggy, a piece of machinery that vaguely resembles a car (i.e., it has four wheels and a petrol engine) but is put together as cheaply and simply as possible. Its engine is loud, its breaks are squeky, there are no seatbelts, doors, roof or windows, and successfully shifting the four gear gearbox is a question of both luck and brute force. It is illegal to take it on public roads beyond the immediate Buzios beach area. It was also loads of fun to drive, at least as long as it wasn't raining too hard (back to the point about there being no doors or windows). Anyway, we used this contraption to check out a couple of the more remote beaches, including a geological site that used to be part of the Himalayas! (Not sure how long it's taken the continental plates to pull apart, but at centimeters a year, it must have been a while...) We also toured the city center, which definitely reminded me of St Tropez in terms of the variety of restaurants and chic boutiques present. We ended the night at a Mexican bar/nightclub called Zapata, where the touristy but fun program included a samba dance show (with the skimpy outfits not leaving much to guesswork) and a capoeira demonstration. Called it a night around 2am.
The following day, we showed up at the beach around 10am to find it was raining again. However, this time we were greeted by our surf instructor Felipe, who had bought two decent-sized boards. As soon as we hit the (surprisingly cool) water and caught our first wave or two, we couldn't care less about the rain. The waves were great, steady and strong, yet not too fast and low enough to be beginner-friendly. Santeri was standing in no time, and I was having fun manoeuvering the board. Elo and her boyfriend took care of the photography, and got some great snaps on my waterproof point & click.
We surfed for about an hour, then as both Santeri and Felipe were freezing, took a break for a warm shower and lunch at Elo's cousin's restaurant (grilled dorado, black feijhao (I've never quite figured out if there's a difference to feijhoada with rice, salad, and a cold beer - absolutely delicious!) and drove the buggy up to the longest beach in Buzios. The beach turned out not to be too interesting, so we headed back to Geriba for another hour of surfing. Elo, the boyfriend and the cousin all joined us at the very end, and we had tons of fun surfing with the natives :-)
Around 5pm it was time to return the buggy, and hop on a bus to Rio de Janeiro.
The first thing we noticed about Buzios, even before we got there, was how friendly the people are. On the bus, we needed to make a phone call, so asked a few fellow passengers where we might find a phone. One guy, maybe in his mid-twenties, spoke some English and offered to make the call for us on his cell phone. He would absolutely not accept the small payment we offered. As we were calling our hotel, a woman on the bus overheard us and asked if we were going to Telhado Verde. She mentioned she lives right next to our posada, and that we would need to get out of the bus 5km before the actual Buzios bus stop (we had no idea about this up to now). She showed us where to get out, and while we were getting our bags from the bus, her husband and two kids showed up to pick her up. And, of course, they offered us a much appreciated ride - which was great, considering we had a lot of bags and no idea how to walk to the guest house.
The same theme continued the following morning, as we wandered to the beach in search of surf lessons. The day was rainy, and none of the surf schools had their stalls up, so we wandered up to youngsters selling fruit on the beach to ask where we could get boards. One of the girls, Elo (short for Eloise) happened to study English and explained that her brother works for one of the surf schools, but they were at another location that day. Instead, she offered to teach Santeri using her cousin's board. Initially we agreed on a 20 real price, but she was so happy to practice her English that eventually she offered the lesson for free (not that we tried to haggle). The lesson itself wasn't as successful as we'd hoped; she only had access to one board, so we had to take turns. In addition, the board in question was a tiny 5-footer, which was definitely too small for me and also a bit too challenging for Santeri's first surf experience. We did have a lot of fun, however, and she kindly got in touch with her brother to make sure we had an instructor and boards for the following day.
For the evening, we rented a buggy, a piece of machinery that vaguely resembles a car (i.e., it has four wheels and a petrol engine) but is put together as cheaply and simply as possible. Its engine is loud, its breaks are squeky, there are no seatbelts, doors, roof or windows, and successfully shifting the four gear gearbox is a question of both luck and brute force. It is illegal to take it on public roads beyond the immediate Buzios beach area. It was also loads of fun to drive, at least as long as it wasn't raining too hard (back to the point about there being no doors or windows). Anyway, we used this contraption to check out a couple of the more remote beaches, including a geological site that used to be part of the Himalayas! (Not sure how long it's taken the continental plates to pull apart, but at centimeters a year, it must have been a while...) We also toured the city center, which definitely reminded me of St Tropez in terms of the variety of restaurants and chic boutiques present. We ended the night at a Mexican bar/nightclub called Zapata, where the touristy but fun program included a samba dance show (with the skimpy outfits not leaving much to guesswork) and a capoeira demonstration. Called it a night around 2am.
The following day, we showed up at the beach around 10am to find it was raining again. However, this time we were greeted by our surf instructor Felipe, who had bought two decent-sized boards. As soon as we hit the (surprisingly cool) water and caught our first wave or two, we couldn't care less about the rain. The waves were great, steady and strong, yet not too fast and low enough to be beginner-friendly. Santeri was standing in no time, and I was having fun manoeuvering the board. Elo and her boyfriend took care of the photography, and got some great snaps on my waterproof point & click.
We surfed for about an hour, then as both Santeri and Felipe were freezing, took a break for a warm shower and lunch at Elo's cousin's restaurant (grilled dorado, black feijhao (I've never quite figured out if there's a difference to feijhoada with rice, salad, and a cold beer - absolutely delicious!) and drove the buggy up to the longest beach in Buzios. The beach turned out not to be too interesting, so we headed back to Geriba for another hour of surfing. Elo, the boyfriend and the cousin all joined us at the very end, and we had tons of fun surfing with the natives :-)
Around 5pm it was time to return the buggy, and hop on a bus to Rio de Janeiro.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Sampa!
On Friday, we left Argentina behind with some great memories, and headed over to Sao Paulo. We also decided to trade the rough hostel life to some real high class hotel living: we booked the Formule 1! For those unfamiliar with the chain, it is the French response to Tokyo's capsule hotels - stripped of absolutely everything non-essential, you basically get a bed, a shower, and a bathroom. Everything else is either not available, or at least incurs an extra charge. We also got a weird combination of one queen size bed and one small bunk bed, and being unlucky in the coin toss, I got the smaller bed. Bummer!
I have a couple of INSEAD buddies in Sampa (as Sao Paulo is locally known) that we wanted to meet up with, but both were busy on Friday. However, one of them, Guillaume had suggested we go see a samba singer named Diogo Nogueira, and had kindly even booked us VIP tickets for the show. Having no idea what to expect, we turned up and were shown to a table very close to the stage. The show began with a promotional video, and instead of the moody, black-dressed, long-haired pale artiste that I had come to expect from the Flamenco guitar concerts I'd been to, the guy on stage owed more to 50 Cent: Diogo Nogueira sported short-cropped hair, designer stubble, flashy jewelry and biceps that hinted at a significant amount of time spent pumping iron at the gym. His voice, however, left no question - this was one talented guy. After a couple of songs, the audience really warmed up, and many got up from their seats and started dancing along. We were also handed some serpentines to chuck at the stage. All in all, a great night and something we probably wouldn't have thought to do on our own - it's always nice to have friends in town.
On Saturday, we did a bit of sightseeing on our own (the Pinacoteca museum, also recommended by Guillaume) and met up with Guillaume at our hotel around 8:30pm. We headed out to a very classy designer bar (and paid about 4x more for our caipirinhas than we had paid for any drink on our trip so far), then had absolutely wonderful steaks and some great wine at a restaurant called Figueira. The restaurant had been built around a HUGE fig tree, which was still the dominant element of the interior. Glass panels made up a roof around the tree, and we watched the rain pour down around us as we ate. After dinner, we tried another bar with a much more laid-back vibe, basically sipping beer with local student types. From there, it was on to one of Sao Paulo's clubs - a loud affair with a very mixed crowd from the upscale party princes and princesses to rowdy rapper types. Guillaume and I felt old giving up at 4am, while Santeri held the fort until 6am. All in all, a great night and a great weekend, for which I am very thankful to Guillaume.
Sunday consisted of a painfully early wake-up, followed by a 6-hour bus ride to Rio de Janeiro, where we hopped on yet another bus for the 3-hour trip to Buzios, a little beach resort North of Rio "discovered" by Birgitte Bardot and consequently dubbed "the Saint Tropez of South America".
I have a couple of INSEAD buddies in Sampa (as Sao Paulo is locally known) that we wanted to meet up with, but both were busy on Friday. However, one of them, Guillaume had suggested we go see a samba singer named Diogo Nogueira, and had kindly even booked us VIP tickets for the show. Having no idea what to expect, we turned up and were shown to a table very close to the stage. The show began with a promotional video, and instead of the moody, black-dressed, long-haired pale artiste that I had come to expect from the Flamenco guitar concerts I'd been to, the guy on stage owed more to 50 Cent: Diogo Nogueira sported short-cropped hair, designer stubble, flashy jewelry and biceps that hinted at a significant amount of time spent pumping iron at the gym. His voice, however, left no question - this was one talented guy. After a couple of songs, the audience really warmed up, and many got up from their seats and started dancing along. We were also handed some serpentines to chuck at the stage. All in all, a great night and something we probably wouldn't have thought to do on our own - it's always nice to have friends in town.
On Saturday, we did a bit of sightseeing on our own (the Pinacoteca museum, also recommended by Guillaume) and met up with Guillaume at our hotel around 8:30pm. We headed out to a very classy designer bar (and paid about 4x more for our caipirinhas than we had paid for any drink on our trip so far), then had absolutely wonderful steaks and some great wine at a restaurant called Figueira. The restaurant had been built around a HUGE fig tree, which was still the dominant element of the interior. Glass panels made up a roof around the tree, and we watched the rain pour down around us as we ate. After dinner, we tried another bar with a much more laid-back vibe, basically sipping beer with local student types. From there, it was on to one of Sao Paulo's clubs - a loud affair with a very mixed crowd from the upscale party princes and princesses to rowdy rapper types. Guillaume and I felt old giving up at 4am, while Santeri held the fort until 6am. All in all, a great night and a great weekend, for which I am very thankful to Guillaume.
Sunday consisted of a painfully early wake-up, followed by a 6-hour bus ride to Rio de Janeiro, where we hopped on yet another bus for the 3-hour trip to Buzios, a little beach resort North of Rio "discovered" by Birgitte Bardot and consequently dubbed "the Saint Tropez of South America".
Uruguay - Colonia del Sacramento
On Thursday, we got an early start and took a ferry across to Uruguay's Colonia del Sacramento. Originally built by the Portuguese as a base for their smuggling operation, Colonia is a very wealthy little town that is probably nothing like the average hamlet in Uruguay but was a great day trip nonetheless. We visited a museum showcasing how the Portuguese colonialists lived, including naval charts, uniforms, pottery, weapons, etc. We also saw the oldest church and oldest university in Uruguay, both founded in Colonia by Portuguese Jesuit priests. Over lunch, we ran into an Australian guy we had previously bumped into both in Lima and Buenos Aires. The world is indeed small, at least for the backpacker crowd.
Buenos Aires
We arrived in Buenos Aires without a confirmed reservation, so our first task was to secure a place to stay. We got a cab to St Nicholas Hostel, who would "probably" have an en-suite twin for us based on a phone call the previous day. Well, they had the twin, but not en-suite - a bit of a drawback, considering Santeri's stomach was still giving him plenty of grief. We ended up taking the room for the first night anyway, and the hostel folks were kind enough to hook us up with the room we wanted at Florida Suites for the rest of our stay. St Nick was ok, but Florida (and the new Milhouse, another hostel we looked at) was the Regency Hyatt of hostels. Very modern, very sleek, with organized activities for every day of the week.
Sunday, our first night in BA was very quiet, as we were both still feeling quite ill. We wandered downtown and caught the new Bond flick, Quantum of Solace. I really liked the film, Santeri was more luke warm about it. Anyway, at 15 Argentinian pesos (about USD 4) at least you couldn't complain about the ticket prices.
The next day, I was pretty much back to full health, but Santeri continued to have stomach problems. We used the morning to move to Florida Suites and then wondered around town, taking photos of some nice examples of colonial architecture. We also checked out the Puerto Madero harbor area, and came across a white bridge with a funky "spike" design - I'll have to look up what it's called and who designed it. For lunch, we tried the famous Argentinian beef at a riverside restaurant called Sport Class. Strange name, but great food. We also popped into the catholic university to take a look around, until a serious looking professor in a suit told us off for violating the campus dress code. Apparently shorts are a big no-no. We wrapped up the evening with a pub crawl organized by the hostel. Bad pizza, cheap beer, and backpackers from around the world all met to explore some four bars around BA, and we all ended up in a grungy club in the Tango barrio, San Telmo. I did meet a great guy, by the name of Jose, who works in Buenos Aires as a promoter but is originally from Ecuador. He was big on extreme sports, and gave me some great tips about stuff to do back in Quito. Will definitely try some of his recommendations.
Come Tuesday, we spent the day in the upper class Recoleta and Palermo neighbourhoods. They have some seriously beautiful buildings, and lots of parks between them, not to forget all the great restaurants. We also took a stroll through the famous Recoleta Cemetary, and of course snapped a couple of photos of its most famous grave, that of Evita Peron. We grabbed dinner with a couple of Londoners we met at the hostel, Nisha and Anika (both of Indian descent, despite Anika's Nordic-sounding name) and had an interesting discussion on whether Hinduism's ban on eating beef could be bent for a beef-paradise like Argentina. Apparently, for some Hindus, the answer is yes :-)
Wednesday consisted of more wandering around Buenos Aires, e.g., the Casa Rosada presidential palace. For evening entertainment, we took some tango lessons; amazingly for a dance class, we had more guys than girls, which gave the whole exercise a bit of a Blue Oyster Club feel (see the Police Academy movies if you don't get the reference), but it was fun nonetheless. We replenished our energy with some pizza once again, then headed to a tango club (called Milonga or something to that effect) to see how the pros do it. It was amusing to watch the huge range of ages, athletic abilities and dance experience on display. For instance, one of the better dancers we saw was a 155cm short, stocky, gray-haired guy in his sixties, whom we jokingly dubbed "Danny De Vito". He was about as wide as he was tall, yet moved with amazing grace and managed to look pretty elegant in his black smoking jacket. A few of the girls were just mind-blowing dancers, who could probably hold their own in a Jackie Chan movie. In true BA-style, the festivities were still going strong by the time we left at 3am.
Sunday, our first night in BA was very quiet, as we were both still feeling quite ill. We wandered downtown and caught the new Bond flick, Quantum of Solace. I really liked the film, Santeri was more luke warm about it. Anyway, at 15 Argentinian pesos (about USD 4) at least you couldn't complain about the ticket prices.
The next day, I was pretty much back to full health, but Santeri continued to have stomach problems. We used the morning to move to Florida Suites and then wondered around town, taking photos of some nice examples of colonial architecture. We also checked out the Puerto Madero harbor area, and came across a white bridge with a funky "spike" design - I'll have to look up what it's called and who designed it. For lunch, we tried the famous Argentinian beef at a riverside restaurant called Sport Class. Strange name, but great food. We also popped into the catholic university to take a look around, until a serious looking professor in a suit told us off for violating the campus dress code. Apparently shorts are a big no-no. We wrapped up the evening with a pub crawl organized by the hostel. Bad pizza, cheap beer, and backpackers from around the world all met to explore some four bars around BA, and we all ended up in a grungy club in the Tango barrio, San Telmo. I did meet a great guy, by the name of Jose, who works in Buenos Aires as a promoter but is originally from Ecuador. He was big on extreme sports, and gave me some great tips about stuff to do back in Quito. Will definitely try some of his recommendations.
Come Tuesday, we spent the day in the upper class Recoleta and Palermo neighbourhoods. They have some seriously beautiful buildings, and lots of parks between them, not to forget all the great restaurants. We also took a stroll through the famous Recoleta Cemetary, and of course snapped a couple of photos of its most famous grave, that of Evita Peron. We grabbed dinner with a couple of Londoners we met at the hostel, Nisha and Anika (both of Indian descent, despite Anika's Nordic-sounding name) and had an interesting discussion on whether Hinduism's ban on eating beef could be bent for a beef-paradise like Argentina. Apparently, for some Hindus, the answer is yes :-)
Wednesday consisted of more wandering around Buenos Aires, e.g., the Casa Rosada presidential palace. For evening entertainment, we took some tango lessons; amazingly for a dance class, we had more guys than girls, which gave the whole exercise a bit of a Blue Oyster Club feel (see the Police Academy movies if you don't get the reference), but it was fun nonetheless. We replenished our energy with some pizza once again, then headed to a tango club (called Milonga or something to that effect) to see how the pros do it. It was amusing to watch the huge range of ages, athletic abilities and dance experience on display. For instance, one of the better dancers we saw was a 155cm short, stocky, gray-haired guy in his sixties, whom we jokingly dubbed "Danny De Vito". He was about as wide as he was tall, yet moved with amazing grace and managed to look pretty elegant in his black smoking jacket. A few of the girls were just mind-blowing dancers, who could probably hold their own in a Jackie Chan movie. In true BA-style, the festivities were still going strong by the time we left at 3am.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Sicko
Last day in Peru: we had an interesting lunch, fried cuy (guinea pig) with potatoes and stuffed peppers. Couldn't help feeling a little guilty eating the critter, which are considered household pets in Finland, but hey, when in Rome... The taste was pretty close to chicken, the visual effect was, uhh, interesting (see photo).
After this we took a whirlwind tour of a couple of ruins close to Cuzco (Saqsaywaman, pronounced like "sexy woman", and Cen'qo). As we were short on time, we basically drove around the ruins and snapped photos. Felt very touristy, but you take what you can get.
After this we flew to Lima, waited at the airport for a leisurely 7 hours, and continued on a red-eye to Buenos Aires. After about 4 hours of sleep on the plane, we finally got to Argentina and hopped on a shuttle to our hostel, San Nicholas. The room is TINY, with barely enough room for two beds, and a shared unisex bathroom with the rest of the floor. And we're paying $40/night, which is a fortune compared to what I got used to in Quito, Lima, etc. At least the location is great, and the staff once again very helpful. I also got my first Hostelling International card in something like 3 years; just like the good ol' days :-)
One piece of bad news. After surviving for a week with just a couple of bouts of altitude sickness, both Santeri and I finally got sick for real. I have a fever, and take turns shivering in cold and sweating my a** off. Not sure if this was caused by the bugs that got a taste of us at Machu Picchu, or maybe the spirit of that cute guinea pig is getting its revenge from beyond the grave...
Hopefully the Advil will kick in soon - tonight we're going to take things real easy and maybe go check out the new Bond film after a quiet dinner.
Despite this setback, Buenos Aires looks like a really awesome city, with European style colonial architecture, and drivers who actually stick to one lane, stop at red lights and only honk when necessary. So, we're really looking forward to exploring more of Argentina, and will probably try to squeeze in a day trip by ferry to Colonia in Uruguay. Luckily we have five days here, so losing one day isn't a complete disaster.
After this we took a whirlwind tour of a couple of ruins close to Cuzco (Saqsaywaman, pronounced like "sexy woman", and Cen'qo). As we were short on time, we basically drove around the ruins and snapped photos. Felt very touristy, but you take what you can get.
After this we flew to Lima, waited at the airport for a leisurely 7 hours, and continued on a red-eye to Buenos Aires. After about 4 hours of sleep on the plane, we finally got to Argentina and hopped on a shuttle to our hostel, San Nicholas. The room is TINY, with barely enough room for two beds, and a shared unisex bathroom with the rest of the floor. And we're paying $40/night, which is a fortune compared to what I got used to in Quito, Lima, etc. At least the location is great, and the staff once again very helpful. I also got my first Hostelling International card in something like 3 years; just like the good ol' days :-)
One piece of bad news. After surviving for a week with just a couple of bouts of altitude sickness, both Santeri and I finally got sick for real. I have a fever, and take turns shivering in cold and sweating my a** off. Not sure if this was caused by the bugs that got a taste of us at Machu Picchu, or maybe the spirit of that cute guinea pig is getting its revenge from beyond the grave...
Hopefully the Advil will kick in soon - tonight we're going to take things real easy and maybe go check out the new Bond film after a quiet dinner.
Despite this setback, Buenos Aires looks like a really awesome city, with European style colonial architecture, and drivers who actually stick to one lane, stop at red lights and only honk when necessary. So, we're really looking forward to exploring more of Argentina, and will probably try to squeeze in a day trip by ferry to Colonia in Uruguay. Luckily we have five days here, so losing one day isn't a complete disaster.
Saturday, November 15, 2008
New photos
I just uploaded a bunch of photos from Peru, check them out on Picasa (picasaweb.google.com/rudi.airisto)
Muchos Picchus y Logica Peruana
We got up at the ungodly hour of 4:30am, after a nice 4-hour nap, and made our way to the railway station. After a scenic ride through Cuzco, Urubamba, Ollantaytambo (sp?) and some amazing mountain and river scenes, we got to the train´s final stop, Aguas Calientes aka Machu Picchu Pueblo. Lonely Planet´s description of the little town was pretty accurate: "the ugliest, most overpriced tourist trap" in Peru. Fortunately all we needed to do there was get our passes for the ruins and hop on a bus. Luckily Machu Picchu is a little lower than Cuzco, so my altitude sickness was gone.
After a 45min bus ride up a winding mountain road, we finally got to the Machu Picchu ruins. We hiked up to the Watchman´s Hut (or something similar) for a couple of postcard shots of the ruins below, and then cut through the ruins to hike up the 350m vertical ascent to Huyana Picchu. They only let in 400 people per day, and we were around number 300 for the day (and this is still considered low season), so we were a little lucky to be let in. Katja, a German solo traveller asked to tag along, and of course we agreed.
The climb took us about 1 hour 15 min, and was sweaty work in the hot weather. We also ended up taking a slightly more adventurous route than most tourists, involving crawling through a tiny little cavern with 10cm of water at the bottom. But once we finally got to the top, the views were truly breathtaking. The Incan ruins, majestic cloud-hugging mountains, and a river snaking through the valley below were just awesome. We played paparazzi for a while, but after finding out that 1.5cm, ant-like insects also like the view from the top, we decided it would be a good time to head down.
It turned out Katja has a bit of a fear of heights, so coming back down was a little slower than going up. We eventually got down around 3pm, and realized we haven´t eaten anything since the breakfast on the train around 8am. The only restaurant around Machu Picchu was closed, but luckily I found a little cafe that still had exactly two ham & cheese sandwiches left. Unfortunately, they were all too aware of their monopoly power, and charged us about $12 for each sandwich + coke (about 8 times the going rate in Cuzco or Lima). Oh well, that´s capitalism for you.
We made another excursion into the ruins to check out the Temple of the Sun, the Banos and a few other staple landmarks, but in all honesty, I think Machu Picchu is super-impressive from a distance (the scale, architecture, location, stonework...) but doesn´t have that much to see up-close. Probably most of the interesting stuff was looted or destroyed by the Conquistadores way back, when they were trying to squash the "pagan" sun worship. What would Francisco Pizarro say if he knew Spain is now one of the main destinations for sun worshippers all over Europe?
One point of interest about Machu Picchu is how they use llamas (I think - they supposedly have shorter fur than alpacas) to keep the grass short. The animals are pretty nimble in climbing from one level to the next, wherever there is long grass to be eaten. I couldn´t help but wonder whether the original Inca inhabitants used the same brand of lawnmower, or whether prisoners of war made better gardeners.
We headed back to Cuzco on the 7pm train. At the railway station, we found the 6pm train had broken down, leaving hundreds of backpackers stranded in the beautiful Aguas Calientes. Our train however was set to leave on time. We had actually considered switching to the 6pm a little earlier in the day, after we found the ruins close at 5pm - so fortunate we didn´t! So we got on our train, and found that there were only 4 passengers in the 60-person train car. PeruRail had decided not to take any of the passengers from the earlier train, which we found completely bizarre. Granted, we had paid a bit more for a higher class "Vistadome" train, but I´m sure lots of people would have been willing to pay the difference. Now, instead, PeruRail would probably need to find accommodation for all the stranded passengers while they fix the train, as I doubt Machu Picchu is equipped for train repairs in the middle of the night. Peruvian logic?
Our train only went halfway (the last direct train to Cuzco leaves at 5pm), so we took a cab from Ollantaytambo, and paid about $4 each for a 1h 30min ride. The driver took on a couple of extra passengers to make more money on the trip, and one of them was transporting a ton of fruit, so we spent the journey in the sweet scent of oranges. Could have been worse, I guess. She could have been transporting fish.
After a 45min bus ride up a winding mountain road, we finally got to the Machu Picchu ruins. We hiked up to the Watchman´s Hut (or something similar) for a couple of postcard shots of the ruins below, and then cut through the ruins to hike up the 350m vertical ascent to Huyana Picchu. They only let in 400 people per day, and we were around number 300 for the day (and this is still considered low season), so we were a little lucky to be let in. Katja, a German solo traveller asked to tag along, and of course we agreed.
The climb took us about 1 hour 15 min, and was sweaty work in the hot weather. We also ended up taking a slightly more adventurous route than most tourists, involving crawling through a tiny little cavern with 10cm of water at the bottom. But once we finally got to the top, the views were truly breathtaking. The Incan ruins, majestic cloud-hugging mountains, and a river snaking through the valley below were just awesome. We played paparazzi for a while, but after finding out that 1.5cm, ant-like insects also like the view from the top, we decided it would be a good time to head down.
It turned out Katja has a bit of a fear of heights, so coming back down was a little slower than going up. We eventually got down around 3pm, and realized we haven´t eaten anything since the breakfast on the train around 8am. The only restaurant around Machu Picchu was closed, but luckily I found a little cafe that still had exactly two ham & cheese sandwiches left. Unfortunately, they were all too aware of their monopoly power, and charged us about $12 for each sandwich + coke (about 8 times the going rate in Cuzco or Lima). Oh well, that´s capitalism for you.
We made another excursion into the ruins to check out the Temple of the Sun, the Banos and a few other staple landmarks, but in all honesty, I think Machu Picchu is super-impressive from a distance (the scale, architecture, location, stonework...) but doesn´t have that much to see up-close. Probably most of the interesting stuff was looted or destroyed by the Conquistadores way back, when they were trying to squash the "pagan" sun worship. What would Francisco Pizarro say if he knew Spain is now one of the main destinations for sun worshippers all over Europe?
One point of interest about Machu Picchu is how they use llamas (I think - they supposedly have shorter fur than alpacas) to keep the grass short. The animals are pretty nimble in climbing from one level to the next, wherever there is long grass to be eaten. I couldn´t help but wonder whether the original Inca inhabitants used the same brand of lawnmower, or whether prisoners of war made better gardeners.
We headed back to Cuzco on the 7pm train. At the railway station, we found the 6pm train had broken down, leaving hundreds of backpackers stranded in the beautiful Aguas Calientes. Our train however was set to leave on time. We had actually considered switching to the 6pm a little earlier in the day, after we found the ruins close at 5pm - so fortunate we didn´t! So we got on our train, and found that there were only 4 passengers in the 60-person train car. PeruRail had decided not to take any of the passengers from the earlier train, which we found completely bizarre. Granted, we had paid a bit more for a higher class "Vistadome" train, but I´m sure lots of people would have been willing to pay the difference. Now, instead, PeruRail would probably need to find accommodation for all the stranded passengers while they fix the train, as I doubt Machu Picchu is equipped for train repairs in the middle of the night. Peruvian logic?
Our train only went halfway (the last direct train to Cuzco leaves at 5pm), so we took a cab from Ollantaytambo, and paid about $4 each for a 1h 30min ride. The driver took on a couple of extra passengers to make more money on the trip, and one of them was transporting a ton of fruit, so we spent the journey in the sweet scent of oranges. Could have been worse, I guess. She could have been transporting fish.
Just cuz it´s co
Our arrival in Cuzco was mostly pleasant - the hostel owner picked us up from the airport, and was super helpful in making sure we get our train tickets for Machu Picchu on time, taking care of our luggage, and generally going out of her way to make us feel welcome. The hostel (El Triumfo, in case anyone is headed this way anytime soon) was truly awesome as well. Super-tidy, modern bedrooms and bathrooms, decent breakfast, and very helpful staff. It´s also right next to the central square (Plaza de Armas), with a nice bohemian chic feel to it - the entrance is through an art gallery / atelier, and the artist actually bunks in a sleeping bag at the foot of the stairs... We also came across a progression with some people in traditional clothing playing folklore songs, and walking some llamas or alpacas (can´t tell the difference) with them.
I was feeling pretty terrible due to altitude sickness - Cuzco is 3,400 meters above sea level, and the air is even thinner than Quito. I´d run out of breath from walking just one block, and hit a heart rate of 180 bpm just from climbing a flight of stairs. I guess now I know what it feels like to be 80 years old. I also felt a fever coming on; I assume the same thing happened in Quito, which is why the night had felt so incredibly cold.
But without letting these minor annoyances get in the way, we teamed up with an Ecuadorian guy called Camillo we met at the hostel, and headed out for dinner and some traditional Inca dances. We were originally going to watch a dance show at the cultural center, but missed it by an hour, so ended up getting dinner at a "traditional" (if slightly touristy) restaurant that also put up a dance show. I got alpaca noisettes for my mains, and the stuff is actually very tasty, although a little tougher than beef. The inca dances were an energetic affair, with brighly coloured costumes and a few more fantastic creatures joining the fun. At some point the Inca maidens (in sinfully short skirts) picked a few guys from the audience to dance with them, and of course I got picked. The dance was easy enough, but with the altitude sickness felt like a marathon as far as the physical exertion goes. However, afterwards I felt much better, and got a few photos of me making a fool of myself as a bonus.
Camillo turned out to be a really nice guy, although he was very self-conscious about his English, so I ended up chatting to him in Spanish most of the time. He might come up to Quito when I go back to Ecuador, so hopefully we´ll have a chance to catch up again.
After our dinner, we were the last guests so the staff offered to let us try all the desserts left over from the buffet for free. Some good stuff there, so definitely happy we came to the place.
Back at the hostel, the staff offered us some coca leaf tea, as well as dried leaves to chew on. They taste slightly bitter, but are supposedly good for the altitude sickness, as they relax the muscles in the throat and therefore increase your air intake. Unfortunately they also make your mouth go numb, which feels a little like a visit to the dentist. But the numbness wasn´t too bad, and I think they did help me sleep better. We made it an early night, as next morning´s train to Machu Picchu was set to leave at a ridiculously early 6am.
I was feeling pretty terrible due to altitude sickness - Cuzco is 3,400 meters above sea level, and the air is even thinner than Quito. I´d run out of breath from walking just one block, and hit a heart rate of 180 bpm just from climbing a flight of stairs. I guess now I know what it feels like to be 80 years old. I also felt a fever coming on; I assume the same thing happened in Quito, which is why the night had felt so incredibly cold.
But without letting these minor annoyances get in the way, we teamed up with an Ecuadorian guy called Camillo we met at the hostel, and headed out for dinner and some traditional Inca dances. We were originally going to watch a dance show at the cultural center, but missed it by an hour, so ended up getting dinner at a "traditional" (if slightly touristy) restaurant that also put up a dance show. I got alpaca noisettes for my mains, and the stuff is actually very tasty, although a little tougher than beef. The inca dances were an energetic affair, with brighly coloured costumes and a few more fantastic creatures joining the fun. At some point the Inca maidens (in sinfully short skirts) picked a few guys from the audience to dance with them, and of course I got picked. The dance was easy enough, but with the altitude sickness felt like a marathon as far as the physical exertion goes. However, afterwards I felt much better, and got a few photos of me making a fool of myself as a bonus.
Camillo turned out to be a really nice guy, although he was very self-conscious about his English, so I ended up chatting to him in Spanish most of the time. He might come up to Quito when I go back to Ecuador, so hopefully we´ll have a chance to catch up again.
After our dinner, we were the last guests so the staff offered to let us try all the desserts left over from the buffet for free. Some good stuff there, so definitely happy we came to the place.
Back at the hostel, the staff offered us some coca leaf tea, as well as dried leaves to chew on. They taste slightly bitter, but are supposedly good for the altitude sickness, as they relax the muscles in the throat and therefore increase your air intake. Unfortunately they also make your mouth go numb, which feels a little like a visit to the dentist. But the numbness wasn´t too bad, and I think they did help me sleep better. We made it an early night, as next morning´s train to Machu Picchu was set to leave at a ridiculously early 6am.
This is just a punk rock song!
Our second day in Lima was spent doing some lightweight sight-seeing with the British backpacker girl (Abby) and her two friends Sarah and Jo: we took a cab to the central square, Plaza de Armas, and spent 45min stuck in smelly, noisy traffic (I strongly believe cars imported to Peru should not be equipped with horns) before seeing some very nice colonial buildings, and grabbing a delicious lunch at a local eatery. My ceviche mixto and pescado saltado rocked, and everyone else seemed pretty happy with theirs too. We originally planned to go visit some museums, but after the long lunch and a visit to the local market (where you could, e.g., buy pretty freshly butchered ducks) we were all pretty tired, so headed back to our respective hostels for a quick siesta.
In the evening we went to check out a concert. Newfound Glory, a punk pop band from Florida, were playing Lima. Abby had been seated next to the band´s guitarist on her flight in, and got an invitation to the gig, and asked if we were interested in going. Turned out to be a good night out - the band definitely had an energetic stage presence, even if the sound was a little muddled (but hey, it´s punk anyway). After a bunch of chellas and caipirinhas (yeah, yeah, they´re Brazilian, but I happen to like them) we transitioned to the hostel bar and hit the sack around 2am.
The following morning was slow, Santeri and I had a long breakfast with a Californian backpacker bum we´d met in the hostel bar the night before. And when I say bum, I mean it literally - he turned up in Lima with no money, and ended up working in the hostel bar to pay for his bed and meals. He doesn´t actually get paid, he just literally gets a bed in a dorm and 3 meals a day (total value probably around $10/day). Well, that gives him a bit of a break before getting back to his ceramics & mathematics double major.
Headed to the airport in the afternoon to fly to Cuzco. Miraculously, despite the way Limenos drive, we made it in one piece.
In the evening we went to check out a concert. Newfound Glory, a punk pop band from Florida, were playing Lima. Abby had been seated next to the band´s guitarist on her flight in, and got an invitation to the gig, and asked if we were interested in going. Turned out to be a good night out - the band definitely had an energetic stage presence, even if the sound was a little muddled (but hey, it´s punk anyway). After a bunch of chellas and caipirinhas (yeah, yeah, they´re Brazilian, but I happen to like them) we transitioned to the hostel bar and hit the sack around 2am.
The following morning was slow, Santeri and I had a long breakfast with a Californian backpacker bum we´d met in the hostel bar the night before. And when I say bum, I mean it literally - he turned up in Lima with no money, and ended up working in the hostel bar to pay for his bed and meals. He doesn´t actually get paid, he just literally gets a bed in a dorm and 3 meals a day (total value probably around $10/day). Well, that gives him a bit of a break before getting back to his ceramics & mathematics double major.
Headed to the airport in the afternoon to fly to Cuzco. Miraculously, despite the way Limenos drive, we made it in one piece.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Hablando espanol
So, I met up with Santeri yesterday morning, and we now have one day in Lima behind us. We didn't do anything super special, just basically took in the city, tried to get a handle on the layout, enjoyed some good food and tasty drinks (Pisco Sour being the local specialty - tastes kind of like a margarita sans the salt) and chilled by the seaside. Quite literally later at night, as it gets pretty cool as the sun goes down.
We met up with a British backpacker girl who was traveling solo, and ended up grabbing lunch and pre-dinner drinks together, then met with Santeri's friend Eija for dinner. Eija has been in Peru for a couple of years now, working as a Spanish-English translator at a local software start-up and fighting the local bureaucracy to get a work permit. It's kind of funny to think of someone moving from Finland to Peru and having trouble becoming a legal immigrant, usually the image is quite the reverse (you know, Cubans/Mexicans paying ridiculous sums to be smuggled into the US and having to live under the radar...) Anyway, as of yesterday it sounded like Eija was winning the battle, so keeping fingers crossed. It was also funny how the locals reacted to her name - it's pronounced exactly the same as "ella" (feminine pronoun in Spanish), so it's a bit like going around introducing yourself as "she". Ended the night at the hostel bar, with muy cheapo chellas and loud salsa music.
Santeri spent most of this morning recovering from jet lag, so I got up earlier to run some errands. Specifically, I had to get a ton of laundry done, as those dive boats in Galapagos tended to deposit a ton of seawater on whatever I happened to be wearing for the day. So, I asked the hostel for the nearest laundry shop, but it turned out they couldn't get it done until 6pm the following day, 3 hours after my flight to Cuzco took off. Fortunately my Spanish/Portuguese/French/English coctail of languages carried me far enough to ask for alternative shops with same-day service. They gave me an address and pointed out a direction, and off I went, of course having left my map at the hostel.
After a while I started thinking I'd gone far enough, so stopped to ask directions from an elderly gentleman. He wasn't sure, so pointed me to a nearby policeman/park warden/security guy, who seemed to know for sure. As I followed the directions, I came across the man I'd first asked again, and he offered to walk me to the place. I was happy to find I could kind of carry a conversation in Spanish; we discussed my impressions of Lima (it's big, with 10 million inhabitants; Helsinki only has half a million, and all of Finland 5 million), I learned that he was a retired "comandante" in the Peruvian military, and explained I'd served a year in the Finnish air force; I also learned that Peru used to have a conscription army, but since 1999 it became voluntary. After a five minute chat, Felix and I parted ways, after he explained how to get to my destination and warned me against crossing a street in the wrong direction ("Muy peligroso, como Harlem de Lima"). Anyway, I found the place and got a promise my laundry would be done by 2pm. It felt great to be able to get along with my Spanish, given I've never formally studied the language and am basically making half of the words up as I go :-)
We met up with a British backpacker girl who was traveling solo, and ended up grabbing lunch and pre-dinner drinks together, then met with Santeri's friend Eija for dinner. Eija has been in Peru for a couple of years now, working as a Spanish-English translator at a local software start-up and fighting the local bureaucracy to get a work permit. It's kind of funny to think of someone moving from Finland to Peru and having trouble becoming a legal immigrant, usually the image is quite the reverse (you know, Cubans/Mexicans paying ridiculous sums to be smuggled into the US and having to live under the radar...) Anyway, as of yesterday it sounded like Eija was winning the battle, so keeping fingers crossed. It was also funny how the locals reacted to her name - it's pronounced exactly the same as "ella" (feminine pronoun in Spanish), so it's a bit like going around introducing yourself as "she". Ended the night at the hostel bar, with muy cheapo chellas and loud salsa music.
Santeri spent most of this morning recovering from jet lag, so I got up earlier to run some errands. Specifically, I had to get a ton of laundry done, as those dive boats in Galapagos tended to deposit a ton of seawater on whatever I happened to be wearing for the day. So, I asked the hostel for the nearest laundry shop, but it turned out they couldn't get it done until 6pm the following day, 3 hours after my flight to Cuzco took off. Fortunately my Spanish/Portuguese/French/English coctail of languages carried me far enough to ask for alternative shops with same-day service. They gave me an address and pointed out a direction, and off I went, of course having left my map at the hostel.
After a while I started thinking I'd gone far enough, so stopped to ask directions from an elderly gentleman. He wasn't sure, so pointed me to a nearby policeman/park warden/security guy, who seemed to know for sure. As I followed the directions, I came across the man I'd first asked again, and he offered to walk me to the place. I was happy to find I could kind of carry a conversation in Spanish; we discussed my impressions of Lima (it's big, with 10 million inhabitants; Helsinki only has half a million, and all of Finland 5 million), I learned that he was a retired "comandante" in the Peruvian military, and explained I'd served a year in the Finnish air force; I also learned that Peru used to have a conscription army, but since 1999 it became voluntary. After a five minute chat, Felix and I parted ways, after he explained how to get to my destination and warned me against crossing a street in the wrong direction ("Muy peligroso, como Harlem de Lima"). Anyway, I found the place and got a promise my laundry would be done by 2pm. It felt great to be able to get along with my Spanish, given I've never formally studied the language and am basically making half of the words up as I go :-)
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Reissu Peruuntui, nyt on Limainen olo
Apologies to the non-Finnish speakers, but that cheesy title just doesn't translate... Anyway, I just arrived in Lima, Peru last night. First impression: it's BIG. With about 10 million inhabitants, the contrast to the 20 thousand person Puerto Ayora is huge. Also, the traffic is chaotic almost on par with Bangkok. My taxi from the airport did so many sudden stops, abrupt lane changes, and huge potholes in the road that I can only be glad I didn't need to do the driving myself.
Waiting for Santeri at the hostel, so haven't seen that much of the city itself yet. However, I did finally find a decent internet connection, so I can finally share some photos from Galapagos! Check out my Picasa account - it should be public, but do let me know if it doesn't work:
http://picasaweb.google.com/rudi.airisto
Here are a few samples. Enjoy!
Sea lion taking its beauty sleep on the beach
Yours truly and a little turtle I came across in the fields
A couple of marine iguanas off Bartolome Island
This guy is probably about 80 years old...
Land iguana in Charles Darwin Research Station
Waiting for Santeri at the hostel, so haven't seen that much of the city itself yet. However, I did finally find a decent internet connection, so I can finally share some photos from Galapagos! Check out my Picasa account - it should be public, but do let me know if it doesn't work:
http://picasaweb.google.com/rudi.airisto
Here are a few samples. Enjoy!
Sea lion taking its beauty sleep on the beach
Yours truly and a little turtle I came across in the fields
A couple of marine iguanas off Bartolome Island
This guy is probably about 80 years old...
Land iguana in Charles Darwin Research Station
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Goodbye to Galapagos
So I found out what the concert / festival thingy the other night was about. Corazones Azules apparently mark victims of traffic accidents: blue hearts are painted on highway sides wherever people die in car crashes. The theme of the concert was to encourage people to drink less before driving, use seat belts, stick to speed limits, that sort of sensible stuff. It was sponsored by the president, hence the frequent thank you speeches.
Saturday and Sunday were my last two days of diving in Galapagos, and some diving it turned out to be! On Saturday´s dive at Gordon Rocks, we came across a huge school of hammerheads; there must have been 30 sharks in total, with the largest ones being over 3m long. We also witnessed a school (more like a"ball") of thousands of smaller fish, tightly packed together in one living, moving mass. In addition, we saw a couple of groups of 4-5 eagle rays, as well as the usual cavalcade of turtles, white tips, etc. Really great dive, definitely in my top 3 ever.
Sunday took us to Cousins Rock and Bartolome, and at both sites we caught a large number of individual white tips, some sleeping, some moving around. The definite highlight was a large group of about 12 eagle rays, majestically gliding through the ocean. It felt almost like watching migrating birds, except we could actually fly along with them. As we were following the group, one particularly large individual "flew" underneath us - it must have had a wingspan well in excess of 1 meter. Just beautiful! During the surface interval between dives, I did some snorkeling on Bartolome, and again caught sight of a couple of penguins. I didn´t have my camera last time, so was really happy to get a couple of pictures this time. Unfortunately the penguins weren´t swimming, but seemed content to just stand on some rocks unmoving for at least half an hour. Hard life, they have... I bought a polo T-shirt and a DVD from the dive shop as souvenirs from what is definitely one of the best weeks of diving ever in my life.
Other than my underwater escapades, I wondered down to Playa Bahia Tortuga (Turtle Bay) on Saturday afternoon. The sky was dark, and it even rained a bit, but the beach was impressive. It had the kind of superfine white sand that most beaches can only dream about (and expensive camera lenses have nightmares about), and a nice vista mixing the sand with some green-leafed trees, black volcanic rocks, and perfect turquoise ocean. Part of the beach has strong waves and currents, great for surfing though not for swimming. If you cross to the other side, you have a calm little bay that is perfect for a quiet swim. To top it all off, you have dozens of gray marine iguanas to keep you company. I sat at the beach for a good hour and a half, just lost in thought and admiring the beauty of the nature.
I then grabbed dinner with Sebastien and Damien, ze Frenchman and le Belge from our dive group, respectively. Nice steaks at Garrapata (sp?), washed down with so-so Chilean white wine. Damien´s story was actually pretty frigging inspiring; I may not have done him full justice earlier by describing him as an "European Commission bureaucrat". Apparently the guy works for EC´s humanitarian mission, ECHO; an agronomist by training, he´s been involved with humanitarian and development work over the past 17 years at such lovely spots as Afghanistan, Chechenya, former Yugoslavia, Mosambique, Mali, Columbia, Sri Lanka... He´s now spent the last 7 years in Quito, ECHO´s regional office for all of South America, and is just about to move to Haiti. Great guy, great sense of humour, and definitely someone very dedicated to fulfilling their values in their everyday life. I got his number, and we´ll hopefully grab dinner again when I go to Quito toward the beginning of December.
Sunday´s dive went later, so just grabbed a quick dinner of grilled lobster at Cafe Del Mar with Damien, and thought I´d update the blog a bit before finding a place to stay in Lima (hey, better late than never). Tomorrow´s flight is at noon, so it looks like I´ll finally get a bit of sleep in the morning, unless, of course, the group of Swedish pensioners who just descended on my hotel decide to start their breakfast diskutering at 6am AGAIN. Javla svenskor!
Sunday was also Father´s Day in Finland, so dad, if you´re reading this, happy Father´s Day! Thanks for being a great role model for care-free, happy-go-lucky living-out-of-a-backpack kind of travel :-)
So, with this, I bid goodbye to Galapagos, though I definitely hope to come back one day (after Ulla learns to dive?). Time to head to new adventures in mainland South America, starting with Lima tomorrow. It will also be nice to meet up with Santeri, who I´ll be traveling together with for the next 3 weeks. Puerto Ayora out!
Saturday and Sunday were my last two days of diving in Galapagos, and some diving it turned out to be! On Saturday´s dive at Gordon Rocks, we came across a huge school of hammerheads; there must have been 30 sharks in total, with the largest ones being over 3m long. We also witnessed a school (more like a"ball") of thousands of smaller fish, tightly packed together in one living, moving mass. In addition, we saw a couple of groups of 4-5 eagle rays, as well as the usual cavalcade of turtles, white tips, etc. Really great dive, definitely in my top 3 ever.
Sunday took us to Cousins Rock and Bartolome, and at both sites we caught a large number of individual white tips, some sleeping, some moving around. The definite highlight was a large group of about 12 eagle rays, majestically gliding through the ocean. It felt almost like watching migrating birds, except we could actually fly along with them. As we were following the group, one particularly large individual "flew" underneath us - it must have had a wingspan well in excess of 1 meter. Just beautiful! During the surface interval between dives, I did some snorkeling on Bartolome, and again caught sight of a couple of penguins. I didn´t have my camera last time, so was really happy to get a couple of pictures this time. Unfortunately the penguins weren´t swimming, but seemed content to just stand on some rocks unmoving for at least half an hour. Hard life, they have... I bought a polo T-shirt and a DVD from the dive shop as souvenirs from what is definitely one of the best weeks of diving ever in my life.
Other than my underwater escapades, I wondered down to Playa Bahia Tortuga (Turtle Bay) on Saturday afternoon. The sky was dark, and it even rained a bit, but the beach was impressive. It had the kind of superfine white sand that most beaches can only dream about (and expensive camera lenses have nightmares about), and a nice vista mixing the sand with some green-leafed trees, black volcanic rocks, and perfect turquoise ocean. Part of the beach has strong waves and currents, great for surfing though not for swimming. If you cross to the other side, you have a calm little bay that is perfect for a quiet swim. To top it all off, you have dozens of gray marine iguanas to keep you company. I sat at the beach for a good hour and a half, just lost in thought and admiring the beauty of the nature.
I then grabbed dinner with Sebastien and Damien, ze Frenchman and le Belge from our dive group, respectively. Nice steaks at Garrapata (sp?), washed down with so-so Chilean white wine. Damien´s story was actually pretty frigging inspiring; I may not have done him full justice earlier by describing him as an "European Commission bureaucrat". Apparently the guy works for EC´s humanitarian mission, ECHO; an agronomist by training, he´s been involved with humanitarian and development work over the past 17 years at such lovely spots as Afghanistan, Chechenya, former Yugoslavia, Mosambique, Mali, Columbia, Sri Lanka... He´s now spent the last 7 years in Quito, ECHO´s regional office for all of South America, and is just about to move to Haiti. Great guy, great sense of humour, and definitely someone very dedicated to fulfilling their values in their everyday life. I got his number, and we´ll hopefully grab dinner again when I go to Quito toward the beginning of December.
Sunday´s dive went later, so just grabbed a quick dinner of grilled lobster at Cafe Del Mar with Damien, and thought I´d update the blog a bit before finding a place to stay in Lima (hey, better late than never). Tomorrow´s flight is at noon, so it looks like I´ll finally get a bit of sleep in the morning, unless, of course, the group of Swedish pensioners who just descended on my hotel decide to start their breakfast diskutering at 6am AGAIN. Javla svenskor!
Sunday was also Father´s Day in Finland, so dad, if you´re reading this, happy Father´s Day! Thanks for being a great role model for care-free, happy-go-lucky living-out-of-a-backpack kind of travel :-)
So, with this, I bid goodbye to Galapagos, though I definitely hope to come back one day (after Ulla learns to dive?). Time to head to new adventures in mainland South America, starting with Lima tomorrow. It will also be nice to meet up with Santeri, who I´ll be traveling together with for the next 3 weeks. Puerto Ayora out!
Friday, November 7, 2008
For the greater glory of Senor Comandante El Presidente
Went back to diving today, with a sort-of-reasonable 7am start. We had a much larger group today, with a decidedly North and Central European bias: I was accompanied by a Swedish couple, a Latvian couple, a French engineer, a Belgian EU bureaucrat, and as the exception to the rule, a girl from Brazil (I assume, since she spoke the same kind of bastardized Portu-Spanish that I do, only a bit more fluently :-) )
We saw a lot of the familiar critters from the first day´s dive: white tips, one hammerhead, a couple of turtles, some sea lions... The coolest new animal sighting was a pair of HUGE manta rays that swam almost directly over us. I also did a bit of snorkeling between dives, and got company from two sea lions, one adult and one very young. The younger one was in a playful mood and nearly ran into me when it zoomed toward me, swimming upside down, and only turned away at the last possible moment. Got some photos of the two, hope they turned out ok.
The concert I thought was happening yesterday was actually only stage-building and sound checking. The actual concert was today, and was quite an interesting affair. From the announcements I gathered it´s about something called the "Corazons Azules" campaign, apparently sponsored by the Ecuadorian president. A bunch of artists got on stage to do one or two songs, some were pretty good but some also extremely cheesy. There was one modernized Elvis-lookalike who clearly faked his guitar solos on a background tape - the guitar wasn´t even plugged in! And two guys whose dance moves made Marco Bjurstrom seem positively heterosexual. It was also fun how between every song the artists would thank El Senor Presidente, El Comandante de Policia Nacional, and las figuras autorizadas. At one point they even had the local police commissioner get on stage in uniform and give a long speech. Muy rock´n´roll!
A bit of a shorter posting today, but the concert made me start late and the net cafe is about to close, plus I need to get some beauty sleep before tomorrow´s 7am. Tomorrow we´re diving Gordon Rocks, supposedly one of the best dive sites in Galapagos, so I want to be in top form.
We saw a lot of the familiar critters from the first day´s dive: white tips, one hammerhead, a couple of turtles, some sea lions... The coolest new animal sighting was a pair of HUGE manta rays that swam almost directly over us. I also did a bit of snorkeling between dives, and got company from two sea lions, one adult and one very young. The younger one was in a playful mood and nearly ran into me when it zoomed toward me, swimming upside down, and only turned away at the last possible moment. Got some photos of the two, hope they turned out ok.
The concert I thought was happening yesterday was actually only stage-building and sound checking. The actual concert was today, and was quite an interesting affair. From the announcements I gathered it´s about something called the "Corazons Azules" campaign, apparently sponsored by the Ecuadorian president. A bunch of artists got on stage to do one or two songs, some were pretty good but some also extremely cheesy. There was one modernized Elvis-lookalike who clearly faked his guitar solos on a background tape - the guitar wasn´t even plugged in! And two guys whose dance moves made Marco Bjurstrom seem positively heterosexual. It was also fun how between every song the artists would thank El Senor Presidente, El Comandante de Policia Nacional, and las figuras autorizadas. At one point they even had the local police commissioner get on stage in uniform and give a long speech. Muy rock´n´roll!
A bit of a shorter posting today, but the concert made me start late and the net cafe is about to close, plus I need to get some beauty sleep before tomorrow´s 7am. Tomorrow we´re diving Gordon Rocks, supposedly one of the best dive sites in Galapagos, so I want to be in top form.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Sharks, boobies, and freedom fighters
Today´s excursion started at 8am, an incredible luxury! I still woke up at 6am though, having gotten used to that over the last few days... Oh well, at least I had time to pack properly and enjoy a leisurely breakfast at the hotel (novelty of the day: green banana tortilla - didn´t make my favorites list).
We went to Seymour Island, which was only an hour by boat. The main attraction were the various birds on the island, notably blue-footed boobies and frigate birds. We also caught glimpses of several Galapagos sharks on the way; they seemed very interested in our boat, but unlike the Jaws films, real sharks are fortunately unable to sink boats or eat helicopters. Also, for the first time ever, I saw a marine iguana actually swimming - usually the lazy buggers are simply lying on some warm rocks, enjoying the sunshine. We also spotted a couple of yellow land iguanas (the more common marine iguanas are dark gray in color and smaller in size), usually pretty shy of people. And, as we approached Seymour, saw a bunch of young sea lion cubs on the rocks - totally adorable! We were warned to keep our distance, as the parents can get aggressive if they think their kiddies are being threatened.
The birds were kind of nice (especially the memorable scene of a frigate bird mommy feeding her chick by having the kid stick its beak down her throat!), but on the whole today didn´t really compare with yesterday´s experience with the penguins. Clearly I´m starting to get de-sensitized to all the amazing animal life around ("Oh, look, another sea lion - yawn!")
However, I got to chatting to a gentleman in our tour group, in his late 60s or early 70s, with a truly fascinating life story. These days he teaches medicine at a university in Mexico, but he is originally from Guatemala, and went through some hard times during the civil war 1960-1996. When the war broke out, he was working as a doctor and had became a well-respected figure in the local community. He had spoken out against 50%+ of the government´s budget going to military spending, pushing for more spending on education and healthcare instead, he got blacklisted by the right-wing military leadership, backed by the US government, and as a suspected "ideological leader" spent several spells in jail. He was then banished, and sought political asylum in Mexico. He tried returning to Guatemala on a few occasions, but found out about threats against his life and had to return to Mexico again. At some point his brother went missing, and while he wanted to return to find him, his mother basically told him to stay away for fear of losing both her sons. They still haven´t found his brother to this day, but assume he is in one of the many unmarked graves in Guatemala. In last year´s election, he ran for Vice President with the main guerilla party, but failed to secure the party´s nomination, as his ideas of increased co-operation with the US were viewed as too controversial due to the CIA´s involvement with the brutal military regime. His take was that the world has changed, but the party failed to see that the US of today is very different to the US of the cold war. We asked if he´d consider running again later, but he seemed content to focus on leading a Latin America -wide network of medical research instead. Anyway, a truly fascinating life story, which got me thinking of how petty some of the problems the Finnish society is grappling with seem by comparison - at least our government hasn´t kidnapped, tortured or massacred our own citizens in a while (unless you count our ex-foreign minister bringing Johanna Tukiainen into the headlines as torture).
Another character that really impressed me today was one of the tour guides. We had basically been two groups travelling on the same boat so far; one German-speaking, and one "all other languages" group. I was in the latter group, lead by our entertaining but occasionally confusing Spanglish-speaking guide, Daniel. I had only heard the other guide, Humberto, speak German over the last two days, so I was really astonished when he suddenly started talking to us in perfect Oxford English. It turned out his parents (100% Ecuadorian) had worked with Brits on some oil-drilling operation in Western Ecuador when he was little, so he ended up going to a British expat school, where everything was taught in Queen´s English. He picked up his German much later, when he lived in Hamburg in his early 30s. It´s so easy to assume the guides are "just" locals looking to make a bit of extra money by escorting tourists around and talking about wildlife, but some of these guys have pretty international backgrounds!
After getting back to Puerto Ayora, I decided I needed some real meat (having had fish for every lunch AND dinner for the last 3 days) and took my Italian tour guide´s recommendation: Garrapata supposedly served the best steaks in town. The restaurant was great, with an open front to the street but enough shelter from the street´s noise and dust. White-chalked walls and candle-holding lanterns provided a nice traditional Spanish vibe, with folksy music in the background. And the steak was delicious! I noticed with some amusement, however, that when they brought the plate, I was initially shocked at "how small" the portion was. Don´t get me wrong, I was perfectly well fed after I´d finished the plate, but having lived in the US for two years now, my perception of what is a normal portion size has been warped :-)
Entertainment over dinner was provided by a local girl, maybe 4 years old, who got my attention by pulling on my shirt to begin with. In Finland, that would probably have gotten her parents to tell her off ("Mustn´t disturb strangers, you naughty child!"), but here they simply laughed and encouraged her to follow up by giving me a kiss (she didn´t). Her parents and their group of friends also got her to do a little dance show ("Baila! Baila!") to the background music, which she expertly did. And here we´re wondering how South Americans end up as extroverted as they are...
Some kind of a concert seems to be starting right outside the internet cafe, so I´ll quit rambling for tonight and go check out the performers. Can´t make it too late a night, though, as I´m expected to turn up at the dive center at 7am again tomorrow. What´s with this country and these early mornings?
We went to Seymour Island, which was only an hour by boat. The main attraction were the various birds on the island, notably blue-footed boobies and frigate birds. We also caught glimpses of several Galapagos sharks on the way; they seemed very interested in our boat, but unlike the Jaws films, real sharks are fortunately unable to sink boats or eat helicopters. Also, for the first time ever, I saw a marine iguana actually swimming - usually the lazy buggers are simply lying on some warm rocks, enjoying the sunshine. We also spotted a couple of yellow land iguanas (the more common marine iguanas are dark gray in color and smaller in size), usually pretty shy of people. And, as we approached Seymour, saw a bunch of young sea lion cubs on the rocks - totally adorable! We were warned to keep our distance, as the parents can get aggressive if they think their kiddies are being threatened.
The birds were kind of nice (especially the memorable scene of a frigate bird mommy feeding her chick by having the kid stick its beak down her throat!), but on the whole today didn´t really compare with yesterday´s experience with the penguins. Clearly I´m starting to get de-sensitized to all the amazing animal life around ("Oh, look, another sea lion - yawn!")
However, I got to chatting to a gentleman in our tour group, in his late 60s or early 70s, with a truly fascinating life story. These days he teaches medicine at a university in Mexico, but he is originally from Guatemala, and went through some hard times during the civil war 1960-1996. When the war broke out, he was working as a doctor and had became a well-respected figure in the local community. He had spoken out against 50%+ of the government´s budget going to military spending, pushing for more spending on education and healthcare instead, he got blacklisted by the right-wing military leadership, backed by the US government, and as a suspected "ideological leader" spent several spells in jail. He was then banished, and sought political asylum in Mexico. He tried returning to Guatemala on a few occasions, but found out about threats against his life and had to return to Mexico again. At some point his brother went missing, and while he wanted to return to find him, his mother basically told him to stay away for fear of losing both her sons. They still haven´t found his brother to this day, but assume he is in one of the many unmarked graves in Guatemala. In last year´s election, he ran for Vice President with the main guerilla party, but failed to secure the party´s nomination, as his ideas of increased co-operation with the US were viewed as too controversial due to the CIA´s involvement with the brutal military regime. His take was that the world has changed, but the party failed to see that the US of today is very different to the US of the cold war. We asked if he´d consider running again later, but he seemed content to focus on leading a Latin America -wide network of medical research instead. Anyway, a truly fascinating life story, which got me thinking of how petty some of the problems the Finnish society is grappling with seem by comparison - at least our government hasn´t kidnapped, tortured or massacred our own citizens in a while (unless you count our ex-foreign minister bringing Johanna Tukiainen into the headlines as torture).
Another character that really impressed me today was one of the tour guides. We had basically been two groups travelling on the same boat so far; one German-speaking, and one "all other languages" group. I was in the latter group, lead by our entertaining but occasionally confusing Spanglish-speaking guide, Daniel. I had only heard the other guide, Humberto, speak German over the last two days, so I was really astonished when he suddenly started talking to us in perfect Oxford English. It turned out his parents (100% Ecuadorian) had worked with Brits on some oil-drilling operation in Western Ecuador when he was little, so he ended up going to a British expat school, where everything was taught in Queen´s English. He picked up his German much later, when he lived in Hamburg in his early 30s. It´s so easy to assume the guides are "just" locals looking to make a bit of extra money by escorting tourists around and talking about wildlife, but some of these guys have pretty international backgrounds!
After getting back to Puerto Ayora, I decided I needed some real meat (having had fish for every lunch AND dinner for the last 3 days) and took my Italian tour guide´s recommendation: Garrapata supposedly served the best steaks in town. The restaurant was great, with an open front to the street but enough shelter from the street´s noise and dust. White-chalked walls and candle-holding lanterns provided a nice traditional Spanish vibe, with folksy music in the background. And the steak was delicious! I noticed with some amusement, however, that when they brought the plate, I was initially shocked at "how small" the portion was. Don´t get me wrong, I was perfectly well fed after I´d finished the plate, but having lived in the US for two years now, my perception of what is a normal portion size has been warped :-)
Entertainment over dinner was provided by a local girl, maybe 4 years old, who got my attention by pulling on my shirt to begin with. In Finland, that would probably have gotten her parents to tell her off ("Mustn´t disturb strangers, you naughty child!"), but here they simply laughed and encouraged her to follow up by giving me a kiss (she didn´t). Her parents and their group of friends also got her to do a little dance show ("Baila! Baila!") to the background music, which she expertly did. And here we´re wondering how South Americans end up as extroverted as they are...
Some kind of a concert seems to be starting right outside the internet cafe, so I´ll quit rambling for tonight and go check out the performers. Can´t make it too late a night, though, as I´m expected to turn up at the dive center at 7am again tomorrow. What´s with this country and these early mornings?
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Bartolome Island
Today started bright and early with a 5am wake-up. A bus picked me up from the hotel at 5:15, collected a bunch of other passengers around Puerto Ayora, and deposited us at the docks by 6:00. We then took a 3.5 hour boat trip to Bartolome Island, during which we were served a pretty decent breakfast (the crew claimed the boiled eggs to be Blue-footed Boobies, though they tasted suspiciously like chicken eggs...) and made some friends among the group. About half the group only spoke German, but among the English speakers I met Luke and Katie, a musician couple from the UK spending their honeymoon backpacking in South America, and Donna, a real estate agent from Chicago here for a week (she was actually the first foreigner I met who WASN´T doing multiple months of backpacking).
We got to our destination by 11am, and right at the boat´s landing site were greeted by 3 or 4 iguanas lazing about on the rocks, as well as about a dozen crabs. Pelicans and frigate birds were flying overhead, and we spotted a couple of turtles in the water - another day at the office here in Galapagos :-) Our guide Daniel lead us up a hill of volcanic rock, explaining how this rock was essentially cooled lava foam and therefore very porous and light. Half the group then proceeded to pick up large bits of rock and pose for "strong man" photos. At the top of the hill, which turned out to double as a lighthouse, we were rewarded with a gorgeous view over a sandy beach stretching out between two towers of rock. More photography followed, and we were delighted to learn we´d be heading to that very beach next.
After a brief visit back to the boat to change into swimming gear, we headed to the beach and met a couple of penguins on the way. They were standing on some rocks, curiously looking at us and looking ridiculously cute when they cuddled and cleaned each other. As soon as we got past them and hit the beach, a couple of sea lions also emerged from the water and joined us on the sand. They seemed as curious about us as we were about them, and were definitely not afraid of us - we got within easy petting distance of the animals, although any sudden motion from their part still resulted in a bunch of scared tourists running around. Hey, you never know what they´re going to do, right... :-) The sea lions eventually shambled into the shade of a nearby rock formation and proceeded to take a nap on the sand. It was fun watching them twitch and turn in their sleep; at the end there were maybe 6 or 7 of them.
In the mean time, we donned our fins and masks and went snorkeling. After looking at the usual collection of small gray fish, we were joined by an armada of 5-6 penguins! In customary Galapagos fashion, they couldn´t care less about our presence, but went happily about catching their lunch. The penguins looked like small black-and-white torpedoes as they glided through the water in formation, flapping their little flightless wings. Very cute! The penguins were occasionally joined in their fishing pursuit by frigate birds nose-diving through the water surface at amazing speeds; I now have a pretty good idea where the WW2 era Stuka dive-bombers got their design inspiration from. Also saw a small (less than 1m) shark near the shore, apparently some others in the group caught sight of a slightly larger (1.5m) white tip.
All that done, we got back on the boat, ate fish and rice for lunch, grabbed a couple of cold beers, and headed home. Rough seas on the way back made half the group sea-sick, but I happily slept throughout most of the trip with no problems whatsoever. Guess either the Scandinavian viking genes or Portuguese seafarer ancestry helped here :-)
Got back to town around 18:30, quick shower, dinner, blogging. Tomorrow´s tour to Seymour Island starts incredibly late in the day, at 8am, which means I get to sleep in till 7:15. Oh, the luxury!
P.S. No news on the drowned diver yet, checked www.cdnn.info and tried Google... May need to give it a few days. On the positive side, Barack Obama won - there is hope for America yet!
P.P.S. I heard a plausible explanation for why internet connection speeds on Galapagos seem to uniformly suck - apparently it´s all satellite-based, as there are no fixed lines between the islands and the mainland. And, due to technical limitations, satellites have miserable upload speeds. So, getting those photos on-line will probably have to wait until I´m back in Quito or, more likely, Lima.
We got to our destination by 11am, and right at the boat´s landing site were greeted by 3 or 4 iguanas lazing about on the rocks, as well as about a dozen crabs. Pelicans and frigate birds were flying overhead, and we spotted a couple of turtles in the water - another day at the office here in Galapagos :-) Our guide Daniel lead us up a hill of volcanic rock, explaining how this rock was essentially cooled lava foam and therefore very porous and light. Half the group then proceeded to pick up large bits of rock and pose for "strong man" photos. At the top of the hill, which turned out to double as a lighthouse, we were rewarded with a gorgeous view over a sandy beach stretching out between two towers of rock. More photography followed, and we were delighted to learn we´d be heading to that very beach next.
After a brief visit back to the boat to change into swimming gear, we headed to the beach and met a couple of penguins on the way. They were standing on some rocks, curiously looking at us and looking ridiculously cute when they cuddled and cleaned each other. As soon as we got past them and hit the beach, a couple of sea lions also emerged from the water and joined us on the sand. They seemed as curious about us as we were about them, and were definitely not afraid of us - we got within easy petting distance of the animals, although any sudden motion from their part still resulted in a bunch of scared tourists running around. Hey, you never know what they´re going to do, right... :-) The sea lions eventually shambled into the shade of a nearby rock formation and proceeded to take a nap on the sand. It was fun watching them twitch and turn in their sleep; at the end there were maybe 6 or 7 of them.
In the mean time, we donned our fins and masks and went snorkeling. After looking at the usual collection of small gray fish, we were joined by an armada of 5-6 penguins! In customary Galapagos fashion, they couldn´t care less about our presence, but went happily about catching their lunch. The penguins looked like small black-and-white torpedoes as they glided through the water in formation, flapping their little flightless wings. Very cute! The penguins were occasionally joined in their fishing pursuit by frigate birds nose-diving through the water surface at amazing speeds; I now have a pretty good idea where the WW2 era Stuka dive-bombers got their design inspiration from. Also saw a small (less than 1m) shark near the shore, apparently some others in the group caught sight of a slightly larger (1.5m) white tip.
All that done, we got back on the boat, ate fish and rice for lunch, grabbed a couple of cold beers, and headed home. Rough seas on the way back made half the group sea-sick, but I happily slept throughout most of the trip with no problems whatsoever. Guess either the Scandinavian viking genes or Portuguese seafarer ancestry helped here :-)
Got back to town around 18:30, quick shower, dinner, blogging. Tomorrow´s tour to Seymour Island starts incredibly late in the day, at 8am, which means I get to sleep in till 7:15. Oh, the luxury!
P.S. No news on the drowned diver yet, checked www.cdnn.info and tried Google... May need to give it a few days. On the positive side, Barack Obama won - there is hope for America yet!
P.P.S. I heard a plausible explanation for why internet connection speeds on Galapagos seem to uniformly suck - apparently it´s all satellite-based, as there are no fixed lines between the islands and the mainland. And, due to technical limitations, satellites have miserable upload speeds. So, getting those photos on-line will probably have to wait until I´m back in Quito or, more likely, Lima.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Tiburones!
At the crack of dawn, I wolfed down a nice fruit/pancakes/scrambled eggs/ham breakfast at the hotel and wondered down to dive center Scuba Iguana. There I met my fellow diver for the day, an Irish accountant named Eodh (pronounced more or less like the letter "E"), who´d been sitting outside the dive center for an hour already due to a timezone SNAFU. We were soon greeted by our divemaster Paulo, who showed us some underwater footage to whet our appetites, then walked us through a couple of options for today´s divesite. Both E and I decided we prefer big animals, so ended up heading to Seymour Isle - two divesites, Mosquenas and The Canal.
After my experiences with an unnamed dive operator in Mexico, I had assumed safety and conservation standards would be pretty lax, but I have to say Scuba Iguana turned out to be one of the most professional outfits I´ve ever dived with. We pre-fitted all gear the day before, the crew took care of all transportation of the gear, everything was on time... We even had to do a quick skills demo (mask clearing and recovering a lost reg) before getting on with the actual dives. Paulo was very knowledgeable about the local marine life, and explained beforehand what we could expect to see, and told us NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING (big difference to the guys in Mexico). He also informed us that an on-the-spot credit card payment would be required to get access to his octopus if either one of us ran out of air due to not paying attention to the air pressure gauge :-) We were told the water would be cold, so wore 7mm wetsuits (and Paulo actually used a dry suit), but honestly, compared to diving lakes back in Finland, the Galapagos felt like a frigging hot spring. Guess everything is relative...
With all that out of the way, we started our first dive. Three sea lions provided a warm welcome, playfully swimming around us from the moment we hit the water. They may look clumsy above water, but under the surface they are insanely agile. Their routine involves zipping toward divers at high speed and turning away at the last possible moment - I was sure they were going to collide with me on a couple of occasions. They also look very cute with their long whiskers and puzzled expressions when they see neon yellow fins on their playmates... The sea lions chased us for a while after we started swimming away, but eventually got bored and departed.
We, however, were never at a risk of getting bored. Pretty soon after the sea lions, I spotted my first ever hammerhead shark. It was maybe 15 meters below us, and didn´t seem to detect or mind our presence. Still, the easily recognizable silhoutte made a heck of an impression. The shark was visible for maybe 5-10 seconds until it swam outside the range of our visibility. There was more to follow - we caught a cavalcade of sea turtles, black and white tip reef sharks, a few nudibranches, and an interesting new (to me) critter: garden eels. They look like a long, thin worm that sticks out from the bottom of the seabed, holding their mouths open like their more intimidating cousins, moray eels. When approached, they withdraw into the sand. What made them impressive was the sheer number - there were thousands of them around! At first I actually thought they were some kind of grassy algae, not animals. A bunch of sea stars seemed to enjoy the company of the garden eels.
The second dive of the day brought some more sharkey excitement. While we spotted a total of two hammerheads on the first dive, we caught a school of 7 or 8 of them swimming together on the second. Also saw a few individual hammerheads, and a couple of groups of 2-3. We also came across a bizarre sight: 5-6 white tips apparently sleeping (although with their eyes open) under a rock formation. They were completely still, and didn´t mind even when we approached to within easy touching distance - we were maybe 20cm from their tail fins! A couple of them did wake up and spurt out of the cave, right above our heads. Quite an exciting moment, even knowing that white tips are completely harmless. We had pretty strong currents on this second dive, so hung on to rocks for support a lot, and finished with some high speed drift diving on our way back to the boat.
The excitement didn´t stop there, however. Right after we headed home, we got a distress call on the boat´s radio. The crew went into an excited, high-speed exchange in Spanish, and left E and me wondering what is going on. Eventually Paulo explained that one of the divers on a nearby liveaboard, Estrella Del Mar, had drowned during a dive! They were trying to resuscitate the poor guy, and asked nearby boats to stay close in case they needed assistance. So we cruised in a circle pattern (we couldn´t stay still without setting anchor, due to the currents and choppy sea) for about an hour, and actually helped by picking up one of Estrella´s divers who had gotten separated from her buddy and DM. She apparently had no idea that someone on her boat was close to dying, as she started cheerfully explaining her diving experience to us - we didn´t know enough about the situation, so said nothing until we dropped her off back at her yacht. We then helped some more by towing one of Estrella´s rib boats that had suffered an engine failure (seriously, how many mishaps can one boat have in a day?) back to the yacht. Shortly after this, we heard on the radio the CPR had failed and the passenger had died. This cast kind of a gloomy mood on our return to harbor. We still don´t know exactly what happened, although I suspect the diver had some kind of a stroke or seizure; it´s very hard for a healthy person to drown on a dive otherwise. I guess we´ll read about it in tomorrow´s news.
After the dive, I grabbed dinner at Cafe Hernan: grilled fish and a large frosty beer. Basic but delicious. The TV was on, and not surprisingly, the main topic was the US election, going on as I write this. I´m keeping my fingers crossed that Obama wins, but there is no way I´m staying up to hear the final result. In keeping with the theme of the week, I´m getting up at 5am (!) to get a boat to Bartolome Isle. Tomorrow we´re not diving, but actually walking around on land. There should be a chance to see some penguins on the island, so looking forward to that!
After my experiences with an unnamed dive operator in Mexico, I had assumed safety and conservation standards would be pretty lax, but I have to say Scuba Iguana turned out to be one of the most professional outfits I´ve ever dived with. We pre-fitted all gear the day before, the crew took care of all transportation of the gear, everything was on time... We even had to do a quick skills demo (mask clearing and recovering a lost reg) before getting on with the actual dives. Paulo was very knowledgeable about the local marine life, and explained beforehand what we could expect to see, and told us NOT TO TOUCH ANYTHING (big difference to the guys in Mexico). He also informed us that an on-the-spot credit card payment would be required to get access to his octopus if either one of us ran out of air due to not paying attention to the air pressure gauge :-) We were told the water would be cold, so wore 7mm wetsuits (and Paulo actually used a dry suit), but honestly, compared to diving lakes back in Finland, the Galapagos felt like a frigging hot spring. Guess everything is relative...
With all that out of the way, we started our first dive. Three sea lions provided a warm welcome, playfully swimming around us from the moment we hit the water. They may look clumsy above water, but under the surface they are insanely agile. Their routine involves zipping toward divers at high speed and turning away at the last possible moment - I was sure they were going to collide with me on a couple of occasions. They also look very cute with their long whiskers and puzzled expressions when they see neon yellow fins on their playmates... The sea lions chased us for a while after we started swimming away, but eventually got bored and departed.
We, however, were never at a risk of getting bored. Pretty soon after the sea lions, I spotted my first ever hammerhead shark. It was maybe 15 meters below us, and didn´t seem to detect or mind our presence. Still, the easily recognizable silhoutte made a heck of an impression. The shark was visible for maybe 5-10 seconds until it swam outside the range of our visibility. There was more to follow - we caught a cavalcade of sea turtles, black and white tip reef sharks, a few nudibranches, and an interesting new (to me) critter: garden eels. They look like a long, thin worm that sticks out from the bottom of the seabed, holding their mouths open like their more intimidating cousins, moray eels. When approached, they withdraw into the sand. What made them impressive was the sheer number - there were thousands of them around! At first I actually thought they were some kind of grassy algae, not animals. A bunch of sea stars seemed to enjoy the company of the garden eels.
The second dive of the day brought some more sharkey excitement. While we spotted a total of two hammerheads on the first dive, we caught a school of 7 or 8 of them swimming together on the second. Also saw a few individual hammerheads, and a couple of groups of 2-3. We also came across a bizarre sight: 5-6 white tips apparently sleeping (although with their eyes open) under a rock formation. They were completely still, and didn´t mind even when we approached to within easy touching distance - we were maybe 20cm from their tail fins! A couple of them did wake up and spurt out of the cave, right above our heads. Quite an exciting moment, even knowing that white tips are completely harmless. We had pretty strong currents on this second dive, so hung on to rocks for support a lot, and finished with some high speed drift diving on our way back to the boat.
The excitement didn´t stop there, however. Right after we headed home, we got a distress call on the boat´s radio. The crew went into an excited, high-speed exchange in Spanish, and left E and me wondering what is going on. Eventually Paulo explained that one of the divers on a nearby liveaboard, Estrella Del Mar, had drowned during a dive! They were trying to resuscitate the poor guy, and asked nearby boats to stay close in case they needed assistance. So we cruised in a circle pattern (we couldn´t stay still without setting anchor, due to the currents and choppy sea) for about an hour, and actually helped by picking up one of Estrella´s divers who had gotten separated from her buddy and DM. She apparently had no idea that someone on her boat was close to dying, as she started cheerfully explaining her diving experience to us - we didn´t know enough about the situation, so said nothing until we dropped her off back at her yacht. We then helped some more by towing one of Estrella´s rib boats that had suffered an engine failure (seriously, how many mishaps can one boat have in a day?) back to the yacht. Shortly after this, we heard on the radio the CPR had failed and the passenger had died. This cast kind of a gloomy mood on our return to harbor. We still don´t know exactly what happened, although I suspect the diver had some kind of a stroke or seizure; it´s very hard for a healthy person to drown on a dive otherwise. I guess we´ll read about it in tomorrow´s news.
After the dive, I grabbed dinner at Cafe Hernan: grilled fish and a large frosty beer. Basic but delicious. The TV was on, and not surprisingly, the main topic was the US election, going on as I write this. I´m keeping my fingers crossed that Obama wins, but there is no way I´m staying up to hear the final result. In keeping with the theme of the week, I´m getting up at 5am (!) to get a boat to Bartolome Isle. Tomorrow we´re not diving, but actually walking around on land. There should be a chance to see some penguins on the island, so looking forward to that!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Teenage mutant ninja turtles and friends
Getting to Galapagos was a mini-adventure in itself. They have all sorts of interesting additions to the standard airport procedure; for instance, before checking-in passengers are expected to buy a special $10 Galapagos ID card and have their bags scanned for alien lifeforms. Also, my on-line reservation from Italian travel broker BravoFly had apparently not registered on AeroGal´s system, so I had a bit of excitement waiting to see if I could actually get on the flight or not. It all worked out in the end, but took so much time that I missed the deadline for checking in my luggage, so had to take it all as carry-on. So much for the super-strict Galapagos baggage regulations.
After landing in Baltra, everyone had to buy a $100 pass to visit the National Park (even if you tell them you only want to drink beer in Puerto Ayora and couldn´t care less about the park), then take a combination of a bus, a ferry and a taxi to get to Puerto Ayora. My taxi driver was a great tour guide, having lived on Galapagos for 15 years, and knew a lot about the local animals, volcanoes, etc. Unfortunately my grattis tour was only available in Spanish, so I probably missed half of it, but managed to communicate back enough to let him know that yes, we also have cows in Finland, and no, they don´t all die in the winter even when it snows.
After getting to my hotel - a very nice little establishment, despite a name, "Red Booby"*, better suited for a strip club - I wondered down to the Charles Darwin research station. Puerto Ayorta is pretty compact, so it´s easy to get around on foot. The research station was fascinating, having a number of giant turtoises and yellow terrestrial iguanas in residence. They also raise young tortoises collected from various islands to grow up in controlled circumstances until they´re old enough to be deposited back to their indigenous environment. This is apparently necessary because humans have introduced some nasty pests, e.g., rats, that never used to exist on Galapagos but now threaten the cute baby turtles. Both the tortoises and iguanas were super chilled, completely unafraid of humans, but also pretty lethargic in the afternoon heat. Got a bunch of cool photos, which I´ll post when I have a slightly faster connection.
After the research station I wondered down to the nearby beach, and spotted dozens of crabs that were very tricky photo models - they tended to slink into cracks between the volcanic rocks when approached. Also saw three gray marine iguanas lazing on the rocks. They seemed mostly oblivious to human presence, but one of them managed to scare the living daylights out of me by suddenly spitting out. No idea if it´s venomous or not, but I decided to stay out of spitting distance.
Having survived the perils of la playa, I dropped by the dive center I had booked my week´s worth of boat and diving trips with. My plan was to just get fitted for the equipment I´d need on tomorrow´s dive, but instead I heard that my package included a guided "Highland tour". I had no idea what I was being offered, but it was free and I had nothing better to do for the afternoon, so I jumped on the opportunity. Good thing I did, too. My guide was a motorbike-riding Italian lady, who´d moved to Galapagos some 20 years ago to "find a quiet life", and knew everything there was to know about the local flora, fauna and geology.
We started off by driving to a private farm, where we spotted dozens of wild giant tortoises. Apparently the tortoises, who normally live closer to the coast, are attracted during the dry season by the grass farmers grow for their cattle, and make the trek to the highlands. The farmers used to kill them (to save the grass for the cows), but the government offered them a deal whereby they could market the tortoise-sighting as a tourist attraction and make a bit of money off the travel agencies. The tortoises stay alive, and everyone is happy. The wild tortoises were much more shy around people; when approached, they withdraw under their shell and start breathing heavily a la Darth Vader. They also like mud baths (to get rid of parasites) and laying in shallow pools of water.
We followed up the tortoise farm by checking out a lava tube (a hollow tunnel formed when the surface of flowing lava solidifies to form a crusty "ceiling") and looking at a couple of craters formed by collapsed volcanoes. Again, some great photo ops, but I´ll need more bandwidth to share the pics.
The tour concluded with some hints & tips on where to eat and drink around Puerto Ayora, and I finally got my SCUBA gear fitted for tomorrow. A quick pit-stop for lobster pasta at "The Rock", a bit of blogging, and off to bed to wait for tomorrow´s 6am wake up call for the diving trip. Did I mention I´m supposed to be on vacation?
* According to Wikipedia, a red-footed booby is actually a kind of bird: "The Red-footed Booby, Sula sula, is a large seabird of the gannet family, Sulidae. They are powerful and agile fliers, but they are clumsy in takeoffs and landings." So now we know.
After landing in Baltra, everyone had to buy a $100 pass to visit the National Park (even if you tell them you only want to drink beer in Puerto Ayora and couldn´t care less about the park), then take a combination of a bus, a ferry and a taxi to get to Puerto Ayora. My taxi driver was a great tour guide, having lived on Galapagos for 15 years, and knew a lot about the local animals, volcanoes, etc. Unfortunately my grattis tour was only available in Spanish, so I probably missed half of it, but managed to communicate back enough to let him know that yes, we also have cows in Finland, and no, they don´t all die in the winter even when it snows.
After getting to my hotel - a very nice little establishment, despite a name, "Red Booby"*, better suited for a strip club - I wondered down to the Charles Darwin research station. Puerto Ayorta is pretty compact, so it´s easy to get around on foot. The research station was fascinating, having a number of giant turtoises and yellow terrestrial iguanas in residence. They also raise young tortoises collected from various islands to grow up in controlled circumstances until they´re old enough to be deposited back to their indigenous environment. This is apparently necessary because humans have introduced some nasty pests, e.g., rats, that never used to exist on Galapagos but now threaten the cute baby turtles. Both the tortoises and iguanas were super chilled, completely unafraid of humans, but also pretty lethargic in the afternoon heat. Got a bunch of cool photos, which I´ll post when I have a slightly faster connection.
After the research station I wondered down to the nearby beach, and spotted dozens of crabs that were very tricky photo models - they tended to slink into cracks between the volcanic rocks when approached. Also saw three gray marine iguanas lazing on the rocks. They seemed mostly oblivious to human presence, but one of them managed to scare the living daylights out of me by suddenly spitting out. No idea if it´s venomous or not, but I decided to stay out of spitting distance.
Having survived the perils of la playa, I dropped by the dive center I had booked my week´s worth of boat and diving trips with. My plan was to just get fitted for the equipment I´d need on tomorrow´s dive, but instead I heard that my package included a guided "Highland tour". I had no idea what I was being offered, but it was free and I had nothing better to do for the afternoon, so I jumped on the opportunity. Good thing I did, too. My guide was a motorbike-riding Italian lady, who´d moved to Galapagos some 20 years ago to "find a quiet life", and knew everything there was to know about the local flora, fauna and geology.
We started off by driving to a private farm, where we spotted dozens of wild giant tortoises. Apparently the tortoises, who normally live closer to the coast, are attracted during the dry season by the grass farmers grow for their cattle, and make the trek to the highlands. The farmers used to kill them (to save the grass for the cows), but the government offered them a deal whereby they could market the tortoise-sighting as a tourist attraction and make a bit of money off the travel agencies. The tortoises stay alive, and everyone is happy. The wild tortoises were much more shy around people; when approached, they withdraw under their shell and start breathing heavily a la Darth Vader. They also like mud baths (to get rid of parasites) and laying in shallow pools of water.
We followed up the tortoise farm by checking out a lava tube (a hollow tunnel formed when the surface of flowing lava solidifies to form a crusty "ceiling") and looking at a couple of craters formed by collapsed volcanoes. Again, some great photo ops, but I´ll need more bandwidth to share the pics.
The tour concluded with some hints & tips on where to eat and drink around Puerto Ayora, and I finally got my SCUBA gear fitted for tomorrow. A quick pit-stop for lobster pasta at "The Rock", a bit of blogging, and off to bed to wait for tomorrow´s 6am wake up call for the diving trip. Did I mention I´m supposed to be on vacation?
* According to Wikipedia, a red-footed booby is actually a kind of bird: "The Red-footed Booby, Sula sula, is a large seabird of the gannet family, Sulidae. They are powerful and agile fliers, but they are clumsy in takeoffs and landings." So now we know.
Quitodo
So this is it - my first visit to South America. That makes it 5 out of 7 continents visited, not that I´m counting :-)
The flight from Miami to Quito was entertaining. Despite my stetson-styled straw hat, which I thought would scream out "gringo" to everyone within a two mile radius, everyone insists on hablar espanol with me. Probably has something to do with my Portuguese roots, which mean appearance-wise I look like I should speak Spanish. Well, I don´t... not much beyond "Una cerveza, por favor", "Muchos gracias", "Buenas tardes" and "Hasta manana", anyway. But my blank stare didn´t stop the 155cm tall granny I helped with her bags* from telling me half her life story in Spanish during the flight. I´m sure it was an interesting story, wish I´d caught more of it. Another entertaining guest on the flight was a boy, maybe five years old, who stared at me curiously while we were waiting for take-off. So I said "hola" and got a "hola" back. Then the kid flashed me a conspirational grin and proceeded to lay his hands on the behind of a girl, maybe 25, standing in front of him. Latin machismo - they start young!
Anyway, I got to Quito around 10pm and was greeted by the driver from my hostel. Nice guy, name of Daniel, who explained in near-perfect English his family run the hostel and he worked there as the driver, resident tour guide and overall handyman, while studying eco-tourism at a local university. He was pretty excited about my itinerary, mentioning he´d never been to Machu Picchu himself but really wanted to go. I was shown my room - small but tidy, with an external bathroom - and crashed, being deathly tired.
However, my blissful slumber didn´t last long. This being the equator and all (yep, hence the name Ecuador), I was expecting a relatively warm climate, but overlooked the fact Quito is about 3km above sea level. As we landed, it was +11C outside, but, thanks to the thin air, I could see my breath. I have no idea how cold it got during the night, but I woke up shivering under my blanket. Well, after putting on a bunch more clothing and stealing a second blanket from the spare bed, I slept kind of ok for the rest of the night until being woken by the sweet sound of my alarm at 6:20am. Time to get to the airport and head for Galapagos!
Incidentally, Galapagos flights have a really tight policy on baggage. The allowance is 20kg per passenger, including carry-on, so in order to avoid paying ridiculous excess weight fees, I decided to leave some of my stuff at the hostel. Guess how much storing my stuff for 8 days and delivering it to the airport when I get back from Galapagos cost? 5 bucks! In fact, all of Quito made me feel like someone wiped a zero off the US dollar´s value. My room for the night was a whopping 12 bucks, a cab to the airport 5 bucks... You could live like a king in this place just on Finnish student support!
* Technically, it was one bag and one huge stuffed Spider-Man puppet. I´m sure she told me who the puppet was for at some point, but it went right over my head.
The flight from Miami to Quito was entertaining. Despite my stetson-styled straw hat, which I thought would scream out "gringo" to everyone within a two mile radius, everyone insists on hablar espanol with me. Probably has something to do with my Portuguese roots, which mean appearance-wise I look like I should speak Spanish. Well, I don´t... not much beyond "Una cerveza, por favor", "Muchos gracias", "Buenas tardes" and "Hasta manana", anyway. But my blank stare didn´t stop the 155cm tall granny I helped with her bags* from telling me half her life story in Spanish during the flight. I´m sure it was an interesting story, wish I´d caught more of it. Another entertaining guest on the flight was a boy, maybe five years old, who stared at me curiously while we were waiting for take-off. So I said "hola" and got a "hola" back. Then the kid flashed me a conspirational grin and proceeded to lay his hands on the behind of a girl, maybe 25, standing in front of him. Latin machismo - they start young!
Anyway, I got to Quito around 10pm and was greeted by the driver from my hostel. Nice guy, name of Daniel, who explained in near-perfect English his family run the hostel and he worked there as the driver, resident tour guide and overall handyman, while studying eco-tourism at a local university. He was pretty excited about my itinerary, mentioning he´d never been to Machu Picchu himself but really wanted to go. I was shown my room - small but tidy, with an external bathroom - and crashed, being deathly tired.
However, my blissful slumber didn´t last long. This being the equator and all (yep, hence the name Ecuador), I was expecting a relatively warm climate, but overlooked the fact Quito is about 3km above sea level. As we landed, it was +11C outside, but, thanks to the thin air, I could see my breath. I have no idea how cold it got during the night, but I woke up shivering under my blanket. Well, after putting on a bunch more clothing and stealing a second blanket from the spare bed, I slept kind of ok for the rest of the night until being woken by the sweet sound of my alarm at 6:20am. Time to get to the airport and head for Galapagos!
Incidentally, Galapagos flights have a really tight policy on baggage. The allowance is 20kg per passenger, including carry-on, so in order to avoid paying ridiculous excess weight fees, I decided to leave some of my stuff at the hostel. Guess how much storing my stuff for 8 days and delivering it to the airport when I get back from Galapagos cost? 5 bucks! In fact, all of Quito made me feel like someone wiped a zero off the US dollar´s value. My room for the night was a whopping 12 bucks, a cab to the airport 5 bucks... You could live like a king in this place just on Finnish student support!
* Technically, it was one bag and one huge stuffed Spider-Man puppet. I´m sure she told me who the puppet was for at some point, but it went right over my head.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
And so it begins...
"I'm getting too old for this shit", I can't help but think, as I realize how stressed out I've been about choosing between potential destinations, creating the optimal flight itinerary, arranging insurance for myself and my stuff, packing everything I need without overdoing it...
Somehow I miss the carefree style of the Interrail trip I did with my brother back in the day. Buy the rail pass, throw some stuff (flip flops, shorts, couple of T-shirts, maybe a towel) in a pack about two hours before departure, and hit the road. Of course, back then I didn't need to worry about packing a bulky yet fragile SLR camera and lenses, getting immunitized against everything the Amazon jungle might care to throw at me, dressing for the Swiss Alps, Rio beaches*, the Sydney Opera and everything between, shipping a car across the Atlantic, or co-ordinating flights across seven different airlines - the beauty of the Interrail pass is you can literally make up your itinerary as you go. So yeah, it's four months on the road, it's frigging complicated to plan, and it's been driving me nuts for the last couple of weeks.
But with all the preparations taken care of, after watching my car and most of my earthly possessions disappear on the back of a transport truck bound for LA, and as I myself head to the airport with just my pack and the clothes on my back, all that stress finally melts away. I'm in a travel mindset. Relaxed. Excited. The die has been cast, and I've done the best I could with the preparations. Now it's just a question of enjoying the ride; I'll deal with any problems if/when they arise.
I'm writing this at Miami airport, after a surprisingly well-slept 5 hour red-eye from San Francisco (melatonin is great stuff, and doesn't require a prescription in the US). I have some 6 hours to kill before my flight to Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands; I'd thought about spending them in some Miami Beach seaside cafe/bar, but given the rainy weather, may opt for the airport lounge and catching up on a backlog of e-mails instead. It's kind of early for a Mojito, but I might just order one anyway :-)
Let the adventure begin...
* Ok, admittedly dressing for Rio beaches doesn't require much planning, or indeed, take up much space in my luggage, "less is more" being the dominant philosophy.
Somehow I miss the carefree style of the Interrail trip I did with my brother back in the day. Buy the rail pass, throw some stuff (flip flops, shorts, couple of T-shirts, maybe a towel) in a pack about two hours before departure, and hit the road. Of course, back then I didn't need to worry about packing a bulky yet fragile SLR camera and lenses, getting immunitized against everything the Amazon jungle might care to throw at me, dressing for the Swiss Alps, Rio beaches*, the Sydney Opera and everything between, shipping a car across the Atlantic, or co-ordinating flights across seven different airlines - the beauty of the Interrail pass is you can literally make up your itinerary as you go. So yeah, it's four months on the road, it's frigging complicated to plan, and it's been driving me nuts for the last couple of weeks.
But with all the preparations taken care of, after watching my car and most of my earthly possessions disappear on the back of a transport truck bound for LA, and as I myself head to the airport with just my pack and the clothes on my back, all that stress finally melts away. I'm in a travel mindset. Relaxed. Excited. The die has been cast, and I've done the best I could with the preparations. Now it's just a question of enjoying the ride; I'll deal with any problems if/when they arise.
I'm writing this at Miami airport, after a surprisingly well-slept 5 hour red-eye from San Francisco (melatonin is great stuff, and doesn't require a prescription in the US). I have some 6 hours to kill before my flight to Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands; I'd thought about spending them in some Miami Beach seaside cafe/bar, but given the rainy weather, may opt for the airport lounge and catching up on a backlog of e-mails instead. It's kind of early for a Mojito, but I might just order one anyway :-)
Let the adventure begin...
* Ok, admittedly dressing for Rio beaches doesn't require much planning, or indeed, take up much space in my luggage, "less is more" being the dominant philosophy.
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