A Whale of a Time in the Poor Man´s Galapagos

Since I arrived in Ecuador I´ve had a touch of the green-eyed monster. Everywhere I go there are backpackers as scruffy as I jumping on planes to Ecuador´s crown jewel; The Galapagos Islands. Whereas on the mainland $1000 can easily last you over a month, on the Galapagos Islands it might last you a week. Clearly for me Lonesome George and his compatriots were off limits.

However Ecuador does provide for the cash strapped backpacker: one tiny island nicknamed, as so many islands on South America´s Pacific coast are, ´The Poor Man´s Galapagos´. However what Isla del Plata has over other contenders for this second rate title, and even over the Galapagos itself, is whales. Massive, jumping, Humpback whales.

Pelicans at the ready.

I had been going to miss out Ecuador´s coastline completely but then I heard that July/August were prime whale spotting months with whale sightings all but guaranteed. I fled the delights of the Andes and jumped on a couple of buses (one of which decided to play Predator vs. Alien at 1am) down to Puerto Lopez. That evening a tour was swiftly arranged and the next morning a very excited me sped down to the beach to catch my boat. In Puerto Lopez there is no harbour, or even a dock. Instead there is an end of the beach were boats attempt to come in as possible to the shore and passengers wade through oily waters to reach their boats. Boats for dragging gringos out to sea were far outnumbered by fishing boats coming in with the mornings catch. As we waited for our boat we watched the hordes of Pelicans dive bombing weary fisherman as they hoisted crates of eels on to the beach and laid out their fishy wares.

The journey out to sea was uneventful save for a Spanish man continually vomiting. I, unusually, was spared this fate but perhaps only because I was so busy looking for whales. Eventually we heard and saw an enormous splash. It must have been a whale! Quickly a few of us scrambled up a rickety ladder, circumnavigating the pile of vomit, for unimpeded views of the whales. At first we would just see three fins breaks the water and see what looked like massive dolphins diving deep with a farewell flip of the tail.

The best shot I got.

And then, it was impossible to predict where, a whale would erupt out of the water, arching its back in an impressive display for our awe struck boat. After a while it seemed as if the whales were competing with each whale jumping further out of the water and closer to the boat ´til they couldn´t have been more than 20m away. I tried initially to get that money shot and almost succeeded until I realise that these beautiful creatures were better appreciated with my own tow eyes and not through the lens of a camera.

I see Boobies!

The highlight of the day behind us we headed to the island itself in search of the Galapagos's most famous bird, the Blue-Footed Boobie. To my delight I discovered that whilst the female boobie (stop sniggering) quacks the male makes a whistling/hissing sound exactly like the sound lecherous Latino men make to intimidate blonde gringas. We also saw the comical Red Frigate Bird the male of which has an enormous wobbly red breast which he waggles at the other birds in some sort of display of macho pride. The baby of this species are sometimes called Teddy Birds because their down is so fluffy that they actually appear bigger than the adults!

A few more birds later (Golden Albatrosses and Red-Footed Boobies) we headed back to the boat and wearily to shore. The waves were enormous and it felt at times like we were on a roller coaster. Sea sickness began to set so I though I´d prove my claim that I can sleep literally anywhere. I dozed bolt upright whilst everyone turned green around me and was non too pleased when our guide woke me up to check if I was okay! However soon the shore was in sight and I was quickly cheered by the thought of the unbelievably fresh plate of calamari that awaited me.

Existential Question Time in Tatacoa Desert

When travellers get together there are a few things they inevitably end up talking about.
First there is the expected ´where are you going? / where have you been? / where are you from?´ - a boring necessity.
Second there´s the ´did you transit Miami´ discussion which usually involves recounting all know USA border nightmares.
And third there´s the ´what do you miss about home?´. For Brits the list is usually a roast, Marmite and proper chocolate. For me, it´s duvets.
So imagine my delight when we arrived in San Agustin to discover our room had a duvet. A beautifully warm, soft, perfect example of a duvet. For four nights it was bliss, but then we had to move on. Well obviously I couldn´t go straight back to being cold at night. I need to be let down gently so, en route to Bogota, we thought we´d stop in the desert.


As you do.

El Labaryinth

El Desierto de Tatacoa is a somewhat surreal place. For one thing you just don´t expect a desert to be there. The jumping off point for Tatacoa is a leafy, green town called Villavieja. The only thing about its typical plaza that hints of anything unusual is the statue of a giant prehistoric sloth replacing the usual one of Simon Bolivar. But a quick mototaxi ride takes you into the Sloth´s old stomping ground, now turned to desert. Tatacoa is not a sandy desert a la the Sahara but looks more, I imagine, like Arizona (the boyfriend who watches a lot of golf confirms this). There are two sections, the more impressive and smaller red part and the larger, sparser grey part.


Our surreal few days began when our taxi driver dropped us at the Observatory where we were greeted by Xavier, the Astronomer, like old friends. Jokes were made about him joining us in the tent before we wandered out to a small hill which was to be our bed for the night. Xavier enthusiastically started tackling the tent whilst Mike and I stood looking bewildered, not sure how to help. Suddenly the two police officers who had been leaning against the observatory watching thought they would join in. Soon the age old question ´how many people does it take to put up a tent´ was answered... two gringos, two policemen and an astronomer.

With our bed for the night all ready we set off to explore the part of the red section known as ´El Labaryinth´ - the name turned out to be pretty apt. Thinking we were sticking to the main path through the towering rock formations getting back shouldn't have been a problem. Except it was. Turns out most cacti look the same and one rock dune is much the same as another. We eventually made it back before dark fell but only just and only after a somewhat unorthodox clamber back to the mirardor.


Evening activities were limited to lying in our tent, with the flap open, gazing at the stars and pondering the mysteries of the universe. The next day we awoke early in order to complete a 16km hike before the midday sun. There is just one road the runs through and in to the desert making getting lost fairly difficult even for us. Our hike took us through cacti fields, across rugged bolder strewn landscapes and across cracked, red earth - all without leaving the road.

The grey part

As strange as the the landscape was the Colombians themselves decided to provide us with far odder sights. On our way in to the desert I had giggled at the sight of two people, on a motorbike, leading a horse. But Tatacoa added to this with three people on a motorbike with a lamb and then two people on a motorbike with a calf. Why and where the lamb and calf were headed I have no idea but I hope they enjoyed the 50kmph ride.


After one more disgustingly hot attempt at El Labyrinth we headed back to Villavieja and on to Neiva. To the Boyfriend´s disgust he was, as usual, shunted in to the back of the camionetta (a jeep taxi) whilst I got the warm inside. However when we set down in Neiva a lopsided smile assured me all was well. ´I have been speaking the universal language of banter´ he cryptically declared before revealing he had been swigging aguardiente  with the locals whilst I had been making polite conversation with the driver.


Typical.