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| The train to and from MP has skylights, soda, and coffee. Why would you ever hike the trail? |
When Michele and I were on the train back to Ollantaytambo
from Machu Picchu we met an Italian guy traveling by himself. We chatted about our trips and when we told him we were going to the Galapagos Islands next, he excitedly said that the “Gala [gall-ah] pagos [like the Spanish word for pay]” were lovely. Now every time I
think about the Galapagos, I hear it in my head as gall-a-pag-os. I wish I knew
how to write phonetics, because that probably isn’t coming across. But it’s
different than the American pronunciation. Good story, eh?
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| I spent some quality time in Quito |
Anyway, Michele and I had somehow made it through the Inca
Trail and were ready for some relaxing island time in the Gall-a-pag-os. All we
had to do was endure a harrowing collectivo
(mini-bus) ride from Ollantaytambo to Cusco (complete with an hour-long
standstill on a windy mountain road due to an accident), a few more
unlicensed-cab rides, a flight to Lima, a flight to Quito, a flight to Guayaquil,
a flight to Santa Cruz, a bus ride, a boat ride, and a truck ride to Puerto
Ayora. Easy-peasy!
When we arrived in Santa Cruz, our tour guide Alexandra was
actually waiting for us at the airport, holding a sign with my name on it.
Michele and I were both astounded and a little giddy. We had set up such
welcome parties at all of our destinations because cabbies in the region are
notorious for robbing tourist, but Alexandra was the only one on our entire
trip who actually showed up. We easily and immediately forgave her many, many
personal affronts (“Two women alone at your age? Why do you not have husbands?
You must be sad about that.”) based purely on that sign with my name on it in
the airport.
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| The proper way to eat spaghetti in the Galapagos |
It was literally a sign of things to come. Alexandra was
brash and in everyone’s faces (including ours), but she got shit done. She
hustled us to the front of lines and made people do what she said, all for our
benefit. She checked us into our hotel and set us up with a driver to take us
around the whole time we were there. She brought us spaghetti on a dock and
silverware to eat it with while we waited for our (insane, singing) boat captain
to arrive.When we saw a demonstration march through downtown Puerto Ayora on our first
night, she filled us in on the labor disputes between locals and the airlines.
She explained the rules about living in the Galapagos, how only a few people
can have cars and no foreigners can move there now and dogs and chickens are highly regulated, and she told us that too
many people are having too many babies. She was a wealth of sometimes-biased insight
and she made sure we got the most out of our stay there. I have serious respect
for that crazy lady.
