Ecuador, Peru and Galapagos 2008
With 2020 swiftly becoming another year in which our wonderful species once again proved we are not fit for the planet, I found myself with cancelled holiday plans and time on my hands. Instead of using this time to campaign against the likes of deforestation, grouse-moors or the ‘era of wild flavour’, I decided to do nothing productive and opted instead to dig out my old travel diary from 2008. After chuckling numerous times at how much I’ve changed over the last 12 years, I thought I’d do a bit of a write-up about the few months I spent in South America way back when – with the odd little excerpt from my diary thrown in for good measure.
So, let’s begin in February 2008. Two fresh-faced Uni-grads from Newcastle heading out to Quito (via Heathrow and Madrid). I clearly hadn’t mastered airport connection times at this point in my life, as page one of the diary contains these notes on Madrid airport:
"…attempted sleeping on floor by check-in desks, freezing! Man cleaning floor with golf-buggy was rather annoying…gave up trying around 06:00…"
Followed by more joys of flying:
"...discussed with Jill the best thing to have on board, a dog or a baby…boarded plane, loads of babies, basically a flying crèche…"
So clearly the trip was off to a good start.
So, let’s begin in February 2008. Two fresh-faced Uni-grads from Newcastle heading out to Quito (via Heathrow and Madrid). I clearly hadn’t mastered airport connection times at this point in my life, as page one of the diary contains these notes on Madrid airport:
"…attempted sleeping on floor by check-in desks, freezing! Man cleaning floor with golf-buggy was rather annoying…gave up trying around 06:00…"
Followed by more joys of flying:
"...discussed with Jill the best thing to have on board, a dog or a baby…boarded plane, loads of babies, basically a flying crèche…"
So clearly the trip was off to a good start.
ECUADOR
Quito
Now then, we ended up spending two weeks in Quito, becoming fluent in Spanish and even more fluent in snacking. The main plus point for me about spending time in a South American city was the opportunity to catch a game of futbol (or football, or even soccer - just comes down to how fluent you are I guess), and after only a few days we found ourselves in a taxi, winding our way through some dark misty hills on the way to Estadio Casa Blanca, ready to catch a game between LDU Quito and Fluminense in what, at that time, was the greatest football competition in the world: the Copa Libertadores.
“As bats spiralled around the pitch a few flares were being lit…people climbing up the fences were silhouetted in smoke…non-stop singing and unrelenting bouncing”
Already a seasoned veteran of some of Europe’s biggest games, my introduction to the delights of South American atmosphere did not disappoint. Despite this game ending 0-0, one of us now had a thirst for hinchada-based chaos, and no more than three days later we were back at Casa Blanca as LDU hosted local rivals Nacional. Between the streamers, drumming and climbing of fences, my diary notes also read:
“During the second half, two huge vultures were soaring over the stadium, fighting for airspace with each other, and the departing aeroplanes…”
Sounds just like the Toon doesn’t it?
“As bats spiralled around the pitch a few flares were being lit…people climbing up the fences were silhouetted in smoke…non-stop singing and unrelenting bouncing”
Already a seasoned veteran of some of Europe’s biggest games, my introduction to the delights of South American atmosphere did not disappoint. Despite this game ending 0-0, one of us now had a thirst for hinchada-based chaos, and no more than three days later we were back at Casa Blanca as LDU hosted local rivals Nacional. Between the streamers, drumming and climbing of fences, my diary notes also read:
“During the second half, two huge vultures were soaring over the stadium, fighting for airspace with each other, and the departing aeroplanes…”
Sounds just like the Toon doesn’t it?
We made the odd excursion away from the city at weekends, including Otavalo market where en route we apparently listened to “two older American ladies banging on about essential-oils, the Bible, and general anger-inducing patter”. Looking back now, this place was/is basically another Wuhan in the making. Another excursion involved a visit to the officially-unofficial equator line at Mitad del Mundo. Here I seemingly failed to identify many different bird species other than a Vermillion flycatcher. That one must have been an easy ID.
Our final weekend whilst based in Quito involved sitting on the roof of a train (or was it a converted bus?) and chugging along towards Cotopaxi National Park whilst dogs and cows cluelessly wandered out of shrubbery and onto the rails. The eventual walk up to the Cotopaxi refuge centre was hellish, I think it took over an hour to trudge and stumble the required 300m. My blossoming naturalist skills allowed me to identify an Andean Fox, and whilst I tentatively penned "two big black eagles with white tails", I wonder now if they were more likely to be Carunculated Caracara – I don’t recall the event, and I no longer possess any photos from my own camera from this part of the trip (for reasons immediately but briefly touched upon in the very next paragraph).
Our final weekend whilst based in Quito involved sitting on the roof of a train (or was it a converted bus?) and chugging along towards Cotopaxi National Park whilst dogs and cows cluelessly wandered out of shrubbery and onto the rails. The eventual walk up to the Cotopaxi refuge centre was hellish, I think it took over an hour to trudge and stumble the required 300m. My blossoming naturalist skills allowed me to identify an Andean Fox, and whilst I tentatively penned "two big black eagles with white tails", I wonder now if they were more likely to be Carunculated Caracara – I don’t recall the event, and I no longer possess any photos from my own camera from this part of the trip (for reasons immediately but briefly touched upon in the very next paragraph).
Flor de la Amazonia
We ended up getting here a wee bit later than planned, a full week later in fact, owing to some bus-based thievery which resulted in the disappearance of bank cards, a passport and my camera. One of the positives to be taken from all of this is that when we did eventually make it to the rescue centre on the edge of the Amazon, we were greeted by a little (potentially coral) snake crossing the path in front of us. A classic tri-coloured wiggler way above my pay-scale, this of course will remain forever unidentified as, unfortunately, I did not have a camera handy…
The premise here was pretty much trying to return animals back into the wild, although a few would never be fit to survive if released and therefore called this place home. Days here involved early starts in order to feed (and clear up after) the residents, with afternoons largely spent on enclosure maintenance and refurbishment.
The premise here was pretty much trying to return animals back into the wild, although a few would never be fit to survive if released and therefore called this place home. Days here involved early starts in order to feed (and clear up after) the residents, with afternoons largely spent on enclosure maintenance and refurbishment.
The massive down-side to ‘working’ at a place like this is that I was absolutely shattered by late afternoon and could barely stay awake. Not yet knowing the joys of a good ‘nightwalk’, I was usually more than happy to lounge in a hammock and watch fireflies and moths in some sort of half-asleep haze (nowadays normally associated post-nightwalks), although I eventually cottoned on to the fun to be had with headtorches and managed to spy a few nocturnal critters in the end. A few interesting species also turned up around the centre during the days, with my first ever swallow-tailed kites swirling above a forest clearing one of the most memorable moments. These guys are truly ‘majestical’ birds.
On the odd evening, the gang from the centre would take a trip into the neighbouring village of El Triunfo looking to play a bit of 5-a-side futbol with the very best El Triunfo had to offer. Never before has such a hot and humid Amazonian shed been filled with so much talent.
El Triunfo 12-11 Gringos “I think I scored 4 and we should have won – we just didn’t pass it enough”
During one weekend, we had a bit of a trek into slightly deeper jungle and set up camp by a river for the night. Not only did this provide the opportunity to release one of our Testudine buddies, but also produced some comical run-ins with huge orange tarantulas, tiny biting ants, and assorted unwanted invertebrate intruders in our sleeping bags. At the time, this was probably not my most comfortable or enjoyable night ever – how times have changed since then!
Back at the centre on another night, evidence would suggest that my love of people has remained a constant:
“…wanted to attract moths to white sheet tonight, but people insist on having lights on…tossers”
El Triunfo 12-11 Gringos “I think I scored 4 and we should have won – we just didn’t pass it enough”
During one weekend, we had a bit of a trek into slightly deeper jungle and set up camp by a river for the night. Not only did this provide the opportunity to release one of our Testudine buddies, but also produced some comical run-ins with huge orange tarantulas, tiny biting ants, and assorted unwanted invertebrate intruders in our sleeping bags. At the time, this was probably not my most comfortable or enjoyable night ever – how times have changed since then!
Back at the centre on another night, evidence would suggest that my love of people has remained a constant:
“…wanted to attract moths to white sheet tonight, but people insist on having lights on…tossers”
Avenida de los Volcanes
With the arrival of April, we said our goodbyes to the Amazon and began a mini-tour down the mountainous spine of Ecuador. Initially our route took us from Latacunga to Ambato and on to Riobamba (via Saquisili), and through almost 10 pages of diary scribbles I can’t find anything worth repeating. We sat on top of another train during an early morning visit to La Nariz del Diablo, but even that event seemed to be eclipsed by the purchasing of “…baked goods, ice cream and another couple of coffees…”
Even after arriving in the more laid-back town of Cuenca the “cappuccino and cake” highlights just kept on coming:
“We then embarked on a mammoth cake-finding quest, taking us round in circles before finally finding chocolate cake and doughnuts…”
Seriously. A cake-finding quest. Who does that in South America? I’ll tell you who: me.
And also Jill, some blame must go to Jill too.
Think I’ll have to tally all these coffees and cakes – probably quite the species list by the end of it.
Even after arriving in the more laid-back town of Cuenca the “cappuccino and cake” highlights just kept on coming:
“We then embarked on a mammoth cake-finding quest, taking us round in circles before finally finding chocolate cake and doughnuts…”
Seriously. A cake-finding quest. Who does that in South America? I’ll tell you who: me.
And also Jill, some blame must go to Jill too.
Think I’ll have to tally all these coffees and cakes – probably quite the species list by the end of it.
Luckily a brief stop in the port city of Guayaquil put an end to our bakery-based questing as we made arrangements to visit one of the classic stadiums of South America - the Estadio Monumental Isidro Romero Carbo – where SC Barcelona would be facing their northern rivals LDU. This pitched two of Ecuador’s finest hinchadas against each other (Sur Oscura and Muerte Blanca), and provided the “fireworks…blindingly pink flares…run-ins with policia” and “mass craziness” that were to be expected from such a fixture. Special thanks must be given to Alexander and Geovanny here, who successfully navigated the gringo-unfriendly streets and safely returned us to our hotel – where we vowed never to watch another British game of football again.
PERU
Sandwiched nicely between a couple of months in Ecuador and a visit to the Galapagos, Peru provided a tasty filling betwixt the aforementioned slices.
Initially arriving in Lima and staying in the ‘non-tourist’ area, we got stuck straight into the ice-creams whilst watching vultures over the Rio Rimac. A couple of pizzas and another ice-cream or two later, and we were boarding a ‘Cruz del Sur’ bus to take us on the 21-hour trip (twenty-one!) to Cusco. Heading south through the sandy and barren coastline, the sun sank towards the misty Pacific until all around was black. I woke at around 06:00 as we twisted our way up through the cloud-covered mountains of central Peru.
Initially arriving in Lima and staying in the ‘non-tourist’ area, we got stuck straight into the ice-creams whilst watching vultures over the Rio Rimac. A couple of pizzas and another ice-cream or two later, and we were boarding a ‘Cruz del Sur’ bus to take us on the 21-hour trip (twenty-one!) to Cusco. Heading south through the sandy and barren coastline, the sun sank towards the misty Pacific until all around was black. I woke at around 06:00 as we twisted our way up through the cloud-covered mountains of central Peru.
Cusco and onwards
We spent a couple of days in Cusco, exploring some of the ruins in the hills nearby and where I was finally able to get my hands on a cheapish camera for the remainder of the trip. We also apparently visited some ‘art’ museums:
“These were at Jill’s request because finger puppets and paintings of corn on the cob are not my cup of tea”
From here we took a rickety bus ride with the locals (and their livestock) to Ollantaytambo before joining the gringo express train to Aguas Caliente in the valley below Machu Picchu. As far as tourist-hubs go, I actually quite liked this place – It was just about warm enough during the evening to sit outside with an Inca Kola, and the cluster of restaurants and lodgings was towered over by steep and misty tree-clad hills. Of course, the town is probably a lot bigger these days, and probably without the trees if the rest of the world is anything to go by.
“These were at Jill’s request because finger puppets and paintings of corn on the cob are not my cup of tea”
From here we took a rickety bus ride with the locals (and their livestock) to Ollantaytambo before joining the gringo express train to Aguas Caliente in the valley below Machu Picchu. As far as tourist-hubs go, I actually quite liked this place – It was just about warm enough during the evening to sit outside with an Inca Kola, and the cluster of restaurants and lodgings was towered over by steep and misty tree-clad hills. Of course, the town is probably a lot bigger these days, and probably without the trees if the rest of the world is anything to go by.
We had a 04:30 start in the hope of seeing a Machu Picchu sunrise, but instead we got the second option: a low-visibility, but atmospheric cloud-fest. The clouds eventually revealed the full viewshed later in the morning, allowing me to put my new knock-off Canon to the test.
Titicaca to the Colca Canyon
Much like some sort of ‘Race around the World’ on a budget of three Ryvitas and a Cusquena bottle-top, but mainly not at all like that, our next destination was Puno via the First Class PeruRail service (actual First Class, with our own table and floral chairs – even curtains and a little vase of flowers!). I was so impressed I could barely eat my mashed yucas and fig gravy. From here we toured Lago Titicaca, visiting the Uros floating islands and Isla Taquile. Species snaffled here included Andean duck, Black siskin, White-winged cinclode, Titicaca grebe, Andean coot, Wilson’s phalarope and a potential rush-tyrant of sorts.
After another bus trek through desert and mountain, passing more unidentified birds of prey and a first sighting of an Andean flicker (that’s a bird, not some sort of anti-social finger-jabber), we entered the “sprawling mass of crumbling brick houses” that is Arequipa. We enjoyed breakfast on the roof the following morning, as the looming ‘Misti’ smoked away in the distance. The plan was to visit the Colca Canyon, with a departure at an outrageous hour the next day:
“We left at 01:30 along an extremely bumpy road. Sleeping was almost impossible as the maniac driver sent the bus at full steam over whatever surfaces lay in front. The bus was full, mainly with locals, and I hate to be rude but I’m sure at least 3 or 4 people shat themselves.”
“We left at 01:30 along an extremely bumpy road. Sleeping was almost impossible as the maniac driver sent the bus at full steam over whatever surfaces lay in front. The bus was full, mainly with locals, and I hate to be rude but I’m sure at least 3 or 4 people shat themselves.”
From Cabanaconde we spent the day walking down the canyon towards our mud-hut destination at the bottom. The night sky down here was incredible, well and truly sticking up a middle finger to Northumberland’s ‘Dark Sky Park’ back home. If I recall correctly, which I do, we also began our canyon ascent at the ungodly hour of 02:30 – this was mainly due to our guide Bernado massively misjudging just how nimble and agile both Jill and I would be when faced with a steep canyon wall. After breezing our way up in blur of shooting stars, scorpions, solifugids and sweaty backs, Bernado was in awe of what he’d just witnessed. He didn’t say that of course, but as we enjoyed a cup of hot coca tea at the top, we could see it in his eyes.
From here, it was on to my highlight of Peru – the Cruz del Condor mirador overlooking the canyon. Now then, I wish I’d paid more attention to the non-condor avian residents here, but unfortunately all I can muster up from my notes and photos are Variable hawks, American kestrels, Andean swifts, Mourning sierra-finch and one more sierra-finch, possibly of the Plumbeous-sort. But anyway, on to the main event. After we’d been perched on the edge of the canyon for about an hour, the big lads started to show up: Andean condors. Man these things are huge – like flying picnic tables! Initially brownish juveniles, but then the black and white adults showed up – at one point around ten birds were swirling just a few metres away. Truly amazing birds, but yet another species threatened by habitat loss and persecution - the Andes just wouldn’t be the same if these Kings were absent.
After our fleeting glimpse of Andean Peru, we were all too-soon back on our way to Ecuador where more wildlife encounters awaited.
Islas Galápagos
With three weeks in Peru behind us but memories of giant Andean condors still vivid, our bus trundled into Quito just as the policia were carrying out some sort of armed arrest at a darkened roadside. The following morning we set about trying to arrange a trip to the Galapagos Islands despite most travel companies being closed for Labour Day. With ridiculous luck, it turned out the hostal we were staying in also operated as a tour company, and they happened to provide the best-looking deal we could find.
We flew into San Cristobal on an AeroGal 737-200, a plane straight out of the days of Yore with wings appearing to be smuggling giant silver cigars. The airport was no more than a Flintstone-esque hut with one open-walled room to collect luggage and our minibus awaiting us in the toasting equatorial sun. We briefly headed into town, where a sea-lion blocked the doorway to a local restaurant as pelicans and frigate birds patrolled the area – this place was already starting to be an absolute treat.
After picking up snorkelling gear we took a dinghy through the harbour to our catamaran, a splendid little vessel that could house maybe 10 people at the most. I’m not sure if the smaller boats have more flexible schedules than some of the big boys, but throughout our stay we frequently ended up being the first people on a particular island in the morning, the last group to leave another island in the evening, and spent the heat of the day mixing snorkelling time with sailing to a new location. We shared the catamaran with six amiable others (two more joined halfway through), the food was delightful, and the itinerary turned out to be perfect. We’d inadvertently hit the jackpot.
After picking up snorkelling gear we took a dinghy through the harbour to our catamaran, a splendid little vessel that could house maybe 10 people at the most. I’m not sure if the smaller boats have more flexible schedules than some of the big boys, but throughout our stay we frequently ended up being the first people on a particular island in the morning, the last group to leave another island in the evening, and spent the heat of the day mixing snorkelling time with sailing to a new location. We shared the catamaran with six amiable others (two more joined halfway through), the food was delightful, and the itinerary turned out to be perfect. We’d inadvertently hit the jackpot.
An early morning dinghy took us to a crab-lined jetty at Isla Espanola, where we alighted amongst sealions, marine iguanas and lava lizards as a Galapagos hawk looked down on us from a small lighthouse. The surrounding cliffs and rocks provided Blue-footed and Nazca boobies, Swallow-tailed gulls and Waved albatrosses – this is what I’d been dreaming of seeing for many years, and suddenly here I was, surrounded by all of the classics. I don’t think that morning can ever be bettered.
One of the most unexpected aspects of our time in Galapagos was that snorkelling would play a major part in each day. For some reason I’d always assumed that, unless you were a diver, it was all about visiting the islands to admire the terrestrial critters, so I was delighted to learn that I’d spend a good few hours each day exploring some of the Galápagos Marine Reserve, all whilst trying to forget about that information board back on Day 1. Well then, as early as Day 2 (the very same morning I just described above), as our catamaran was moored a few hundred metres from Gardner Bay next to a small sea stack, Jill and I decided we’d test out the snorkelling kit by circling the aforementioned rock formation. Back home in Northumberland, I used to love snorkelling in a good kelp forest, but even there I liked to keep within my depth to avoid my imagination getting the better of me. Needless to say, the sea between the boat and the stack was a little on the deep and dark side, and every time water surged against the rock it sent thick clouds of bubbles and froth swirling off into the blueness, reducing visibility just enough so that I all I could see at one point was a fairly sizeable shark’s tail disappearing into the churning water behind me. Honestly, my heart did skip a beat before common sense took over, and although I never got another look at the owner of this big tail, every single shark I encountered from then on was an absolute pleasure to swim with. After the sharks and green sea turtles, we returned to the catamaran, lying on the roof watching the red sky give way to the milky way as bioluminescent waves lapped around us. Magic. Just magic.
The next day started with a visit to Isla Floreana followed by snorkelling in the strong currents through ‘Corona del Diablo’. This was one of the best spots for close views of petrels and shearwaters skimming the water around our boat, and provided our first sighting of a tropic bird. We spent a relaxing late afternoon watching flamingos and frigate birds before returning to the catamaran at sunset for more stargazing.
We spent a couple of days around Santa Fe, Santa Cruz and Baltra, checking out some local cetaceans, sealions and some pretty sizeable tortoises (of which no species information was scribbled down at the time). One snippet I did make a note of was a sighting of a Galapagos yellow warbler - and also a comment a fellow tourist made regarding the giant tortoises:
“How does the shell grow? Do they leave the old one and look for a new one?” (Actual adult human, May 8th 2008)
“How does the shell grow? Do they leave the old one and look for a new one?” (Actual adult human, May 8th 2008)
Isla Bartolomé quickly became a memorable island for both Jill and me, not just because of the iconic Pinnacle Rock looming over the red sands, but also because of the resident Galapagos penguins. We were able to swim along with these awesome little aquatic bullets as they hunted for fish, leaving little white bubble trails snaking through the blue water around us. The reef sharks also provided incredibly close views as they rested side-by-side under volcanic overhangs – presumably waiting for darkness to fall before they got involved.
We had decided to hang about on San Cristobal for a couple more days after the catamaran week had ended, but it turns out we’d have liked to stay a lot longer. We had warm weather, beautiful orange sunsets and experienced life on a catamaran, but by far the most important thing here was the amazing wildlife. From seabirds to reptiles to swimming with sharks, this truly was a charmed life of ‘swim trunks and flippy-floppies’ that I don’t think I’ll ever forget.
ECUADOR - back on mainland
By now we’d experienced a tiny slice of Amazonian action, some vast Peruvian landscapes and the magic of the Galapagos, so it’s no surprise that we were finally coming around to the delights of locations with ‘eco-tourism’ in mind. We hadn’t yet experienced any authentic cloud forest, so we booked up a short stay in a giant treehouse at Bellavista - close to the more well-known birding hub of Mindo. Still being quite the birding novice, I didn’t fully appreciate the rarity of the Golden-headed quetzal that greeted our arrival. Nor did I feel the need for the red-eye hike to locate the Andean cock-of-the-rock. Ah man, what can I say? I suppose the upshot of this regret is that I now usually go all-out to find everything I possibly can when I visit a new place. Maybe that ‘tunki’-shaped void in my memory has done more for me in the ensuing years than if I’d actually seen it. Maybe not though. Probably not in fact. But it’s a nice thought.
“Hummingbirds here included Speckled, Booted racket-tails and others to be named later”. More great journalism from my younger self there. I did finally get my act together and correctly identify Masked flowerpiercer, Turquoise Jay, Toucan barbet, Sickle-winged guan, Common potoo, Blue-winged mountain tanager and Montane woodcreeper – but then I nearly ruined everything by describing a Masked trogon as “almost like a fat kestrel”. My notes also say that a table of twitchers pointed a toucan out to us during breakfast – I think this would have to be a Plate-billed mountain toucan, but I have absolutely no recollection of seeing such an amazing bird. I wonder if these musings are of a similar calibre to the notes of Darwin or Wallace. I can only assume so.
Not wanting to neglect our (my?) new found love of nightwalks, on went the headtorches and out we went into the damp and misty night. A few inverts and sleeping anoles were all we could muster (the most interesting herp-find would occur early the next morning as a caecilian crossed our path), but generally it was just nice to be out in the dark amongst the dripping epiphytes.
The end of our stay in the clouds also marked the end of our South American journey. At the time, we discussed the places we were planning on returning to in addition to many of our other ‘bucket list’ destinations (and species), but little did I know of the job market difficulties that awaited me. The destinations would have to wait a while longer, but luckily I had memories of Amazonian jungles, Andean mountains and the Galapagos Islands to cling on to. Even now, when scanning the bleakest mountaintops that the UK has to offer, I can still picture those condors and hear the distant sound of panpipes.