Saturday,
April 26
Our
last day in Ecuador,
and it’s a long one. Barbara and my
mother are scheduled to take an all-day tour to the Indian market at Otavalo. Eric, Jeffrey and I will be going to Cotopaxi national park.
But this is only the beginning. After
we return to Quito
late in the afternoon, we will be having dinner, then heading out to the
airport to start our flight home – which is scheduled to leave at about 11:30
PM. Mom will be staying in Quito for one more night and catching a plane for Miami early tomorrow
morning.
Santiago,
our tour guide from yesterday, will be escorting Barbara and Mom to Otavalo. This town, which is about 100 kilometers
north of Quito
on the highway Panamericana, is the site of a famous Indian market. While the cognoscenti now turn their noses up
at this particular market, and claim that others in Ecuador are more “authentic,” this
market is by far the most renown. But for
us all of this vacillation is beside the point, each town’s Indian market is
only open one or two days each week. The
Otavalo market is open today, and most others are not, so the decision is
simple.
The
boys, though, are not into shopping and handicrafts. Otavalo would bore them, and they do not
suffer boredom graciously. So we are
setting out on a more active excursion to the mountains south of Quito. But before we leave, Eric puts in a purchase request
to Barbara that she buy him a shrunken head at the market – a curio that he has
heard (falsely) may be available. Our
driver and guide is Diego, who pulls up in front of the Río Amazonas in a small
Japanese SUV. I did not yet know how
happy I would be for this choice of vehicle.
Cotopaxi
park is the home of the famous Cotopaxi
volcano. This perfectly conical peak is
the iconic mountain of Quito, similar to Fujiyama and Tokyo.
It lies about 70 kilometers south of Quito, and on clear days is quite visible
from the city. We have not been so visually
fortunate. Instead, we have had to
content ourselves with seeing images of this mountain placed as a backdrop in
paintings of Quito
scenes pressed in front of our faces by numerous street vendors.
Our
route to the mountains takes us south out of Quito on the Panamericana. This stretch of highway follows the valley that
Alexander Humboldt, the famous 16th century explorer, dubbed the “Avenue
of the Volcanoes” – so named because it is bracketed by strings of huge peaks that
form the backbone of the central Andes.
Unfortunately, the morning is very cloudy and we only glimpse summits at
very brief intervals. This lowland
valley (a misnomer if there ever was one because its floor is roughly 9000 to
10,000 feet in altitude) is tiled with farm fields and terraces mounting its
hillsides. It is also extremely lush and
green – no doubt due to the extremely frequent rains.
Here,
the Panamericana fluctuates between two and four lanes. Its road surface is a cratered moonscape,
lacking any niceties such as lane markers – or even a white line to delineate
the center of the road. Not that the
existence of such a line would be guaranteed to reduce the disturbing regularity
with which oncoming vehicles appear directly in front of us. But as we turn off the highway and onto the Cotopaxi access road, conditions become far, far
worse. This road is completely ungraded gravel. Punctuating its continuous washboard bumps
are large rocks and numerous ditches that range between six and twelve inches
deep. However, these are the conditions
that we experience where the road exists.
At regular intervals, the road disappears altogether due to washouts, missing
bridges, extensive mudflats, etc. These
obstacles we ford directly. I become
very thankful that the SUV has four wheel drive available – but Diego so far
has disdained to use it.
After
jolting along this access road for close to an hour, we reach a small
interpretive center. Desperate for an
opportunity to stretch my back and for the kids to use the facilities, we
stop. The air is already cold and clammy
as low-hanging clouds slide by on the mountainsides. Because we’re here, we peruse the sparse
exhibits of the center. A few relief
maps of the park plus some old photos, and the pride and joy of the center, the
mangiest stuffed condor you ever saw.
Although Andean condors are basically just large vultures that display
all of the unattractive characteristics of the species (e.g., small bald head,
wattled neck) this one also looks like half of its wing and tail feathers have
been plucked out – perhaps by several decades of school trip visits to the
center. We leave the center resolved to
keep scanning the skies in hopes of seeing a more majestic live version of this
mammoth scavenger.
We
climb rather steeply up the mountain in and out of the clouds. Presently we reach the end of the road at its
highest parking area. We are 300 meters
below the Jose Ribera hiking refuge. Our
view of which alternately appears and disappears as fog wisps lift, then settle
again. We are at 4500 meters – over
14,700 feet – the highest that I have ever been on foot or by car. The Cotopaxi
summit is still almost 4600 feet higher at 5897 meters. It is from this refuge that hikers spend the
night before attacking the summit in the early hours of the morning.
I
am astounded to see the motley collection of vehicles that litter the parking
area. I had thought that our rough
ascent to this spot had been something special, but not so. There are two large tour buses unloading
groups of schoolchildren who are hiking to the refuge. They are joined by a number of SUVs that have
transported more serious hikers to this altitude. There is even an ordinary Quito taxicab with less than six inches of
ground clearance that pulls up to disgorge several tourist passengers. There are also several vans that have carried
loads of mountain bikes on their roofs or in trailers to the parking lot. These bikes are being unloaded and mated with
riders from the passenger compartments of the vans. Upon mounting their metal steeds, these
riders will bump down the mountain – sometimes on the access road, sometimes cross-country.
Given the poor condition of the road, it
makes little difference. I assume that
after twelve hundred or so meters of descent and many linear kilometers of
distance, the riders and bikes will be picked up by the vans and returned to Quito.
Because
we have not brought any heavy clothes with us to Ecuador, we shiver in the parking
lot for about twenty minutes waiting for the clouds to stop pelting us with
rain and/or clear away from the summit.
Neither occurs. We pile back into
Diego’s car and retreat down the mountain to a pretty picnic area alongside a
lake at about 3850 meters. Here we eat
the “box lunches” that were added to this tour for a supplemental charge of $10
per head. Evidently they were assembled in
Diego’s kitchen that morning and each consists of a single white bread
sandwich, a can of diet soda and a chocolate bar. I am none too fond of the mystery meat that
inhabits the center of my sandwich and the kids turn their noses up at their Ecuadoran
peanut butter and jelly. I trade them my
chocolate for their sandwiches and rifle through my backpack to find two stray
juice boxes and a candy bar, which I give them as well. None of us is very fond of diet soda and
drinking the local tap water is inadvisable.
While
we eat, we enjoy watching the many birds that are circling over the lake. Diego, who is an ardent birder, points out
the rather rare Andean gull. We, who are
less impressed by ornithological nuance, stay on the lookout for a condor, but
we see none. We do, however, see some
wild horses as we hike around the edges of the lake. As the rain redoubles, we start our return to
Quito. It is to prove even more of an adventure than
our ascent.
Because
of the rains, the access road is no longer a washboard. It is a flowing stream. The areas that were gullies and mudflats on
the way up this morning are now coursing with water and the road underneath
them is unrecognizable. I am grateful
for the relatively high road clearance of the SUV and that we have gravity on
our side. Even Diego decides that it is
worthwhile to engage the 4WD. I cannot
believe that any of the ordinary Ecuadoran minicars, such as the taxi that we
saw up on the mountain, will be able to negotiate this now invisible road. Given the amount of rain that has been
falling and the treachery of the access road at night, I wonder whether they
will have to spend the night before being able to descend.
Luckily,
we are able to make it down the access road and back onto the Panamericana. The rain even lets up as we travel back north
up the Avenue of the Volcanoes to Quito. But as we reach the outskirts, the sky opens
up again. Hail the size of pencil
erasers comes pelting down. It builds up
so quickly on grass surfaces that they become white like snow. Gradually, the hail shifts over to bucketing
rain. It is so severe (and Quito’s storm sewers so
inadequate), that the steep streets turn into open rivers several inches
deep. The flow is so strong that
medium-sized rocks are pulled along in the current and bounce off of tires and
the sides of cars. This storm turns the
sky so dark that most drivers are even induced to switch on their headlights,
something that Quitenos appear loathe to do even in the black of night.
Nevertheless,
Diego’s excellent driving and knowledge of Quito’s streets gets us back to the Río
Amazonas at about 4:00 PM. As we
disembark, I discover that one of the chocolate bars that I had given the kids
had been sat on. So several extra
minutes are spent cleaning the seat and Diego’s tip is increased
commensurately.
Mom
and Barbara return to the hotel from Otavalo at 5:30 PM. After leaving the Río Amazonas shortly after
us this morning, they drove with Santiago
for about two hours – reaching Otavalo a bit after 10:00 AM. There, they spend close to three hours
roaming the indigenous markets. Despite
the profusion of retail opportunities, they purchase relatively little: a picture, some textiles and a fake plastic
skull for Eric. While not the genuine
shrunken head that he requested, it is a far more satisfactory substitute than
I expected to be available. Eric is
pleased and all is well with the world.
After
leaving the Indian market in Otavalo, Mom and Barbara are taken to a nearby
hacienda where they enjoy a big lunch and folkloric show. Their description of this lunch makes my
tastebuds water and hunger pangs grow – especially in light of the
unsatisfactory meal that was my box lunch at Cotopaxi. On their way back to Quito,
Santiago takes
Mom and Barbara via a local woodworking center where a few more souvenirs are
procured.
Seeking
to assuage my hunger, I go downstairs to locate a place to eat. I find a simple restaurant just around the
corner from the hotel. My ordered meal
comes served on a plate that is fashioned out of a coarse wooden slab. I immediately think of all the bacteria and
microorganisms that must be harbored in the wood’s pores. But what the heck, I have been very good on
this trip in avoiding dangerous food.
This is the last night. At least
if I get the turista, it will only ruin my flight home, and not the entire
vacation. So I eat most of the dinner –
but it is hard to enjoy it.
At
8:30 in the evening, we say goodbye to Mom and prepare to leave for the
airport. We call a taxi from the hotel
entrance and agree upon a $5 rate for the five mile trip – which based on my
experience from yesterday, likely constitutes an overpayment of close to 100%
relative to what a metered trip would cost.
Once we arrive at the airport, the cabby demands $6. I refuse based on principle, but I am still
bothered. What is an extra dollar to me
relative to what it is for the taxi driver?
We
check in at the Continental Airlines counter and our baggage undergoes a pretty
rigorous security check. By 9:30 PM we
are seated in the departure waiting area surrounded by a huge throng of high
school-aged kids speaking French. I
ascertain that this is a school group from Montreal
who are returning from a service mission in Ecuador. We only have a single connection to make in Houston. They have two. First they fly to Houston,
next to Chicago, and then on to Montreal.
By
this time, our kids are crashing. The
nonstop activity of the past week, Quito’s
altitude and this already long day of adventure get to them. Each falls asleep as we wait for the plane. Finally it arrives, and a bit after midnight
we are on our way. The first stop comes
quickly. It is Guayaquil,
where some of the passengers inbound from Houston
disembark. A few more board and the
flight continues on, full. For all of us
still awake, a simple meal is offered.
But most on the plane, including the rest of my family, are asleep.
Sunday, April 27
We
land in Houston
at about 5:45 AM. We scramble to reclaim
our bags, pass through customs and recheck our bags for Newark.
While going through customs we are not queried about the usual
contraband: liquor, tobacco, fruits or
vegetables. Instead, the question of the
day is, “are you carrying any prescription medicines that you have acquired
outside the U.S.?” My mind begins to race. Why are they asking this question? Is it because they know that I scored some illicit
Ecuadoran amoxicillin and acetaminophen with codeine at the Farmacia Vanessa in
Puerto Ayora in the Galápagos ten days ago?
No, that couldn’t be. Is it
because codeine is a narcotic that is illegal in the U.S. without a prescription? Possibly, but these pills contain only a
pissant amount of codeine, and I have brought back similar spiked analgesics from
Canada
on several previous occasions. Or is it
part of a push on the part of customs to enforce U.S. pharmaceutical companies’
patents against foreign interlopers – a topic that had been much in the news at
the time? I quickly decide that this is
the most likely reason for the inquiry – and I should be in the clear because
the patents on both of these medications expired long ago. But not wanting to risk the delays attendant
in a long colloquy or the need to search our five large pieces to luggage to
find and surrender the offending items, I answer “no.” We are waved through and hurry on to catch
our connecting flight.
The
flight to Newark
is similarly packed, but completely uneventful.
We land shortly after noon eastern time, collect our bags and find the
limo we had reserved to take us back to Bridgewater. Forty minutes later we are home. Shortly thereafter, we receive a call from
Mom, her early morning flight from Quito to Miami worked out as well,
and she is home, too. Truly a wonderful
and completely successful trip. But I
was wrong about one thing. This trip is
not to be a “once in a lifetime” experience.
Already I am planning what we should do on further visits to the
Galápagos.
Concluding remarks
If
you are now planning your own trip to the Galápagos, there are several
decisions you need to make.
When to go: There is something to be said for any
season. Different animals are resident
(or in different stages of development) at different times of the year. During different seasons the weather varies
from warmer to cooler and dryer to wetter, and the ocean temperatures may be
more or less conducive to swimming or snorkeling. To help you wrestle with these decisions, I
recommend you consult a guidebook. My
favorite is by Barry Boyce, A
Traveler’s Guide to the Galapagos Islands. You will quickly determine that there are
strong points and weak points to any date, so you might as well be guided by
the availability of time in your own vacation schedule. No matter when you go, you won’t be
disappointed.
For how long: Far more important than when you go, is for
how long you go. Any visit will be
magical, but given the strain of travel just to get there, a longer visit will
be more rewarding. Although many
travelers dash in and out in three or four days, I think a week is far
better. None of us became bored after
the first several island landings. Each
subsequent landing always offered something new and unique. While I cannot opine as to whether stuff begins
to become old after ten or fourteen days of visits, I can repeat again, one week is not too long a time! In addition, please try not to cut your
transfer time between arriving in Ecuador and departing for the
Galápagos as tightly as we did. Although
everything worked out, the stress this entails and the awful penalty for
missing a connection makes it just not worth it. Schedule an extra day or two at each
end. If nothing else, you’ll avoid the
intense fatigue that ensues from traveling with multiple transfers over
thirty-six continuous hours.
What type of boat: Boats range from six passengers up to ninety
passengers. While the larger boats tend
to be the most luxurious, there are some boats in the sixteen to twenty passenger
range that are supposed to be very nice as well. In general, the competence of the guides is
higher on the larger vessels. But that
said, even though the Santa Cruz
was very good at managing its ninety passengers, you will have a different
experience on a smaller boat. Landing in
this Eden-like environment is surely more intense the smaller the group that
accompanies you. We selected a large
boat because of the need for distractions for our children – and it was very
successful choice. In addition, we
enjoyed the superior food and accommodations that you will find on a larger
ship. Still, if we visit the Islands again, we would likely try to sample the
different attributes of a small boat experience.
How much does it cost: The trip is not cheap, but we never felt that
we were overcharged for the value we received.
When we traveled in April 2003, our costs were roughly as follows. Airfare from Newark
to Quito was $624 per person and from Quito to Baltra was about
$400 per person. Nice hotels in Quito were about $80 per room
per night. Admission to the Galápagos National Park was $100 per person. Prices for the flight to Baltra, and the Park
entry were discounted by 50% for children under 12 years. And proof of age was definitely required.
The
biggest ticket item was the Santa Cruz. Our triple stateroom was about $1800 for Eric
and I, and since Jeffrey was under 12, his price was only $900. Barbara and Mom in the double stateroom were
$2200 each. Thus, at full rates, the
cruise was roughly $300 per person per day.
(I believe the 2006 prices for the Santa
Cruz are close to $100 per person per day higher than
in 2003.) We traveled in low season and occupied
the least expensive exterior cabins on the ship. Stateroom rates increase by close to $100 per
day during high season, and also increase if you select a higher class of cabin.
In
general, high season is when visiting gringos have their most copious vacation
time – summer, Christmas and Easter – but the particular dates can vary by boat,
so it pays to investigate all possibilities.
I don’t think there is a great payoff to selecting the ship’s fancier
cabins. In general, these are simply on
a higher deck with a better view or some extra floor space. But since daybreak and nightfall come quickly
and punctually at 6 AM and 6 PM on the equator, there is little sunlight for
external viewing during your cabin hours.
Indeed, most of our non-sleeping time aboard ship was spent eating in
the dining room or attending naturalist briefings in the lounge.
Rates
are less expensive on smaller or less luxurious vessels. There are many boats in the $250 to $300
range. If you are willing to go on a
“tourist class” boat, the daily rate can drop to as low as $150 per person per
night. Folklore exists that if you show
up in Quito or Guayaquil (or especially on the docks of Puerto Ayora) you may
find a booking agent needing to fill last-minute unoccupied space and offering
truly cut rate prices – but this is an option that is likely only feasible for
footloose college students or retirees. Altogether,
including our pre- and post-cruise stays in Quito and Ecuadoran tours, the total cost of
our 11 day vacation was just under $4000 per person.
Note,
all of these cruise prices assume that you are booking your Galápagos cruise
separately and not as part of a complete pre-packaged tour. The latter is the most expensive option. Large travel operators like Globus, Tauck or
Collette may have trips to the Galápagos, but their prices (which include all
of their own markups and commissions to reseller travel agents) seem to be the
highest. Deal with an agent who has
personal familiarity with the Islands and boat
options, and most importantly – one who will book your trip directly with its actual
Ecuadoran cruise operator. We used such an
agent (Ken Weemhoff) to make our Santa
Cruz reservations with its Ecuadoran operator,
Metropolitan Touring. He was also able
to offer my mother a discount consolidator fare on American Airlines from Miami to Quito. Typically, your plane reservations from Quito or Guayaquil
to Baltra will be handled by the Ecuadoran operator of your cruise
(Metropolitan Touring in our case) to jibe with your boat’s sailing schedule. We booked our own airfares on Continental
from Newark to Quito
and I used the Internet to make our hotel and tour reservations in Quito. See some of the following web sites for a
rundown of the various boat and tour options for the Galápagos and their
prices:
http://www.discovergalapagos.com/ good
general information about boats and the Islands
http://www.galapagosisland.net/index.html good
general information about boats
http://www.galapagosadventures.com/ we used this agent for our Santa Cruz booking – but he specializes more
in dive trips
http://www.galapagosvoyage.com/home.asp website of Metropolitan Touring – the
operator of the Santa Cruz
http://www.galasam.com.ec/ we
used this agent for our tours in Ecuador
Finally,
if you are still on the fence about going to the Galápagos, go down to your
local public library and check out one or both of these books by Tui De Roy (or
Tui De Roy Moore as she was known when she was writing the first book). Galapagos:
Islands Lost in Time or Galapagos:
Islands Born of Fire. Her writing and photography are
inspired. If reading these wonderful
books doesn’t make up your mind, nothing will.
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View on the road to Otavalo
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Market at
Otavalo
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Mom with Santiago
in Otavalo
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Barbara
with vendor in Otovalo
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Forklore show
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Eric with skull in departure
lounge at Quito
airport
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Because the digital camera went with Barbara to
Otavalo, and I took the 35mm film camera to Cotopaxi, there are no electronic
photos to display of Cotopaxi.