Muscle Up 4th of July

Well as luck would have it, upon our return from the campervan of fun tour we found ourselves staring down the barrel of the 4^th of July.  With my many years of American television in toe, I was expecting a day of over-exaggerated Americana, fireworks, chest bumping and booze.  So to prep for this momentous event Toni and I thought we should go all out.  We needed a checklist:

• Muscle Car
• Fireworks
• Americana
• Alcohol

And so it began.  The plan was to hire a muscle car, drive to Nevada for fireworks (because apparently this is where the big stuff lives) and dress for the occasion.  So it was off to the internet.  It took a little but eventually I managed to hire an “Adrenaline Series” V8 muscle car through Budget Rentals.  Now this could have been a GT Mustang, Chevy Comaro or a Dodge Challenger, no guarantees.  I was really hoping for the Dodge Challenger but!  As luck would have it again, when I went to pick the car up from the Oakland Airport there in front of me sat a beautiful gloss black Dodge Challenger.  It was the only one in the lot and my only goal was to get that car!  Luckily the two ladies behind the counter were receptive to a bit of Australian charm.  They switched the booking on the car and gave it to me!  Hazah!  As a precautionary measure I had purchased the full suite of insurances because the US has some pretty serious liability issues.  I think the comment made to me by one of the rental ladies was “you can write this car off and it won’t cost you a dime.  Just turn it off and walk away.  Now go have some fun!”  What a thing to say to me of all people.  But they didn’t know that and neither did they need to.  And so my love affair with American muscle cars began. 

I waited all of a couple of minutes until I was just out of sight of the rental place before I put the hammer down.  The 5.8L Hemi V8 sure enough didn’t disappoint!  First stop, the American Apparel clothing store for some sweat American threads and head bands.  This day had to include head bands. 

 Note the name of the school across the road from Toni's place.

So we had an afternoon to hoon before setting off the next morning for Lake Tahoe and Nevada.  And hoon we did.  That poor car was either set to idle or hammer time.  I was loving life.  I was also thankful for the distinct lack of po-po (American slang for police).

The next morning was an early start.  We packed the car with provisions and set out on making Lake Tahoe in half the usual time.   As we approached we discovered that every other man and his ridiculously large SUV had fated the same plan.  Result: wall to wall traffic.  At a pace unsuited to a hood full of Hemi grunt we arrived at Lake Tahoe only to find the most disappointing of scenes.  The 4^th of July is just a nice family day out!  No drunken chest bumping, no gun shooting, no high fives, not even a dose of Americana enough to kill a horse.  I had been gyped!  I was expecting an American version of our Australia day but bigger, with drunken louts running amuck in paddocks trying to run their mates over with their utes etc, etc.  Obviously with an American slant to the whole affair.  But alas no.  Well stuff these guys, I was going to do my own version of what I thought should fit the bill.  So it was to the car, foot to the floor and off to Nevada.

Relinquishing the reigns!

Well after a fair drive and a few stops to ask locals for directions to the nearest fireworks stall we came up empty.  The promised ample abundance of deadly deadly fun time explosives was proving ever elusive.  So taking a punt and tracking the bulk of the people we went to the centre of downtown Reno for a try.  Here I found a market place full of happy people.  This seemed like a good place to find fireworks...  But still no.  Getting jacked with the situation I thought I would ask that group of police over there since after all fireworks are legal and they know the area better than anyone.  I approached the policeman with the most impressive moustache for no other reason than he had the coolest moustache.  After asking them if they could give me a hand and explaining I was from Australia and keen to celebrate the 4^th of July, I hit them up on where to find fireworks.  The guy with the moustache immediately looked at his partner and the group gave me a kind of puzzled stare.  Hmmm, I thought.  “Son, fireworks are illegal in Nevada” said the moustached officer.  I retorted with a “you have gotta be kidding me!  Everyone has told me to go to Nevada for the good stuff.  I have just traveled 6 hours!”  After a little discussion and learning the ins and outs of the laws I was told that unfortunately I had been sold a dud.  Thanking the officers and with clear disappointment on my face I was set to move off when the moustached officer came at me with something remarkable.  He said “Unfortunately fireworks aren’t legal in Nevada....but if you did want to get some, I would recommend going...”  and then he gave me the name of a place!  What a bloody legend!  So with this address seared into my memory I quickly headed back to the car and hit it into the GPS.  Ahhh! Another 1.5 hours away!  But it was a guaranteed spot for fireworks...  Unfortunately we had wasted so much time getting to this point, another 3 hours to the trip was just too much.  So we canned it all and headed for home.

On the way home, Toni took us on a little diversion to find a place for us to better run the Challenger through its paces...  She had found a spot on the GPS called Bear Flats or something like that.  Sounded like a flat area to have some fun.  Wrong.  Heading up the mountain road past the hillbillies and their gun shooting of stumps we ended up at the top of a mountain where the road turned from paved to paved and narrow and finally to dirt.  Ah well the GPS said we could get out by driving foreward and so we did.  On the odd occasion I may have been a little heavy on the gas around the odd bend and down the occasional straight.  This was quickly countered by Toni screaming at me and the odd punch thrown.  Later she told me that mean she was having fun!  Women!?!? 

So some 17 miles of dirt track rallying and we popped out onto a paved road.  The car was filthy but rearing for more.  So more we gave it.  Now, I feel I have to share a bit of a back storey here.  Certain people who privilege from my choice to keep them anonymous have been giving me grief about not changing my Facebook profile since I started on Facebook some 6 years ago.  My counter to this was that I liked the photo I had and I would not change it for anything less than awesome.  What would be more awesome than me burning out in an American muscle car on the 4^th of July in America?

Insert cheesy grin...

The setup to this moment was quite funny actually.  Toni was fed up with looking for a place to give the car some so she started partitioning to just do it on the windy mountain road we were on.  The one with the odd car coming past.  I was reluctant but soon gave in.  Pulled over on the shoulder of the road I had Toni stand in front of the car on the other side of the road armed with my camera.  Putting all the Challenger muscle down we made sweet photographic history and we were doing a bang up job of it until a car rounded the bend on the other side of the road.  Now a few things I should mention.  Toni was on the other side of the road too.  The road had about one foot of shoulder.  Toni was in bright red high heels and I had just made a heap more smoke than realised.  Result...None could see a thing and Toni knew she had to get onto my side of the road.  Running around like a high heeled chicken with its head freshly off she blindly ran through the smoke in the general direction of the car using tiny little high speed steps as any lady does running in high heels.  Somewhere amongst the smoke was a car travelling at some decent speed.  Finding the car Toni quickly jumped in but I couldn’t hoof it anywhere because I still couldn’t see a thing!  As the smoke cleared I looked to the other side of the road to see the other car stopped and a bloke just shaking his head.  I gave a grin and then legged it with all 5.8L of Hemi pounding the ground.  Good times.

In a random turn of events we found a roadside fireworks stand on the way home and bought some fireworks of the smaller variety.  By the end of the day it was too late and it had been too long for us to go out and let them rip.  We were pooped!

The next day Toni was off to work and I was off to see the large elephant seals of Anos Nevo at a bazillion miles an hour.  Eh, they were cool, but getting there in the car was cooler.  This was my last day of hooning and I was loving it.  Later that afternoon I returned the car, shed a tear and moved on. 

These guys are hilarious when they move up and down the beach.  Like 3 tonne caterpillars.

The last set of events worth noting from the US was the house party that had been in the making before my arrival.  The details of the party were vague at the least but I was told it would be a hippy event to remember.  And that it was...  and that it was...

Glory shot.  Merica!

The Hills of San Francisco

Well after enjoying the random offerings to be had in the city, Toni and I thought it a good idea to see some of the massive nature surrounding San Fran.  Hooked up with a Jucy camper van we set out to do this.  Our first stop on the road was the Napa Valley just an hour outside of SF.  Here we visited one of my fellow South American travelers Emily.  The Napa region is known as a wine region and is a place for the well to do.  Here I got to eat my first American cheese burger, which I must say was way better than I had thought, indulge in a number of local brews (my favourite being the white Belgian wheat beer called Blue Moon) and whoop ass on the local dart boards. 

Robin Hood of the darts world!

But it was really Yosemite and Big Sur National Parks that we had come to see.  People had been hyping them since I arrived in the US and I was getting carried away in the enthusiasm.  Toni, peaking out about the potential cues at the campground entrances of Yosemite had me wake up at 3am in the morning after a night of beer drinking to start the 6 hour drive from Napa to Yosemite.  I was more than enthused to say the least.  So that I had nothing to complain about she threw out a token offering to drive if I was too tired to do so.  When I saw one eye deviated from the other, I knew it was all me.  Thanks T.

So six hours and one extended discussion at a rangers station about the ways and means to make a safe fire we arrived at the gates of Yosemite National Park.  Low and behold, a camp ground was easy to find.  You need to book way in advance to camp within Yosemite Valley, but outside it is easy to get impromptu places as long as it isn´t the weekend.  So we spent our first day deliriously exploring the Yosemite Valley area.  The scenery was gorgeous but dry.  It was somehow reminiscent of Switzerland with the large granite formations.  There was a heap of hype about bears and such getting into your cars and ripping them apart in search of food.  Hence every camper was provided with instructions to keep their cars clear of food and to store everything edible in bear boxes (big steel lockers bolted to the ground).  To hammer home the point, many a photo was shown of cars that had been peeled open by bears.  And I mean peeled.  They had a wicked system going; basically they started at the top corner of your door window and peeled the window and metal back until they could fit in your car.  Then they tore that sh!t up!  But apparently if you came across a bear it would basically hoof it.  These were black bears, not the big bad assed grizzlies.  On the other hand the warnings for mountain lions were more interesting.  They read something like this:

WARNING:  In the unlikely event that you confront a mountain lion DO NOT break eye contact.  Make yourself look big and be very loud (The very loud bit is for non-American residents.  Americans just be yourselves...).  If you are with others, join your bodies together to look collectively larger (if your name is Andrew Couse, you are huge enough).  If you have children with you, pick them up off the ground and put them on your shoulders.  Do NOT bend down.  Do NOT run.  If the mountain lion approaches you, throw rocks and swing sticks.  Do NOT bend down.  If it attacks you, FIGHT BACK! 

Delightful...  So do I carry rocks to throw at these things or do I only pick the ones up at waist height to prevent me bending down?  Little vague on that one...  I might have added a few captions for added affect....  Guess which ones....

Bears bust´n cars.  How about them apples  

In the end however all we saw were deer that thought they were dogs tending to follow people and just mooch about, prairie dogs that peeped and darted around the plains and the odd squirrel.  Every time I saw a squirrel I lost my sh!t to the disinterest of Toni who had seen “a million and one” squirrels before.  Well neh, they were new to me and damn they could smash it about those trees! 

Giant Sequoias.  Pretty big.

Yosemite Valley.  Spectacular indeed and a nice place to do some fly fishing.

A crazy red thing.  Oooo artsie...

The Jucy rocket ship.  It turned a few heads.

Days two and three of our time in Yosemite were spent in the highlands.  These were less populated with tourists and allowed for some more remote trekking and a greater array of wildlife encounters.  This was more my thing.  Come dusk and dawn, travelling on the roads was precarious as we nearly hit a number of deer.  And the remoteness of it meant that we were bathing in mountain streams fed from snow melts.  Quite refreshing! On our first trek into the highlands Toni didn´t believe me that there was actually snow on the large mountains.  She hit me with a whole heap of pseudo science as to why snow could not possibly exist at this time of year.  A snow ball to the face changed her perceptions quick smart haha!  Yeyeah! 

Snow Toni, snow.

Mountain topping.  This is like 3,500m up.

And a random hunting cabin.  Up in the snow Toni, the snow.

Each evening we would head out to the plains and watch the wildlife as it moved from the wooded areas to the grasslands to graze.  But there were no bears to be seen.  Maybe I should have brought that picnic basket... 

Its a tradition now days.  This is atop Lambert´s Dome

One cheeky squirrel

One of the many mountain lakes.  Cold as heck!

I love these little guys.  Hazah for prairie dogs!

Naaaw, baby prairie dogs.

A cold place to bathe!

The storm clouds that rolled over the plains at this time of year were dramatic!

On the fourth day we decided to up anchor and head for Big Sur.  This is a national park on the coast just south of SF.  People had told us it was “the most beautiful place on earth”, “God´s country” etc, etc.  And so this had to be explored!  Driving through some pretty varying countryside we made our way back to the coast.  This is where it really hit home that Americans have an innate knack of over hyping things.  Yosemite was nice but not world beating by any means.  Big Sur however was nothing much on my radar at all.  It is really a clear water river (nothing too huge) that runs to the ocean surrounded by heaps of Americans in big RV´s.  The coast line is windswept with a number of treks to be done but none really to write home about for the seasoned trekker/traveller.  I was happy to hear people’s enthusiasm for the area, but I could not bring myself to mirror it.  Again I have to reiterate however how friendly and outgoing Americans are.  People were offering us firewood if we needed it, food if we wanted it and I even had an offer of accommodation!

Big Sur coastline....

One of the cool things we did manage to do in the area though was see the large sea otters which hang out in the floating sea weed beds along the coast line.  They are willey little critters though that tend to be pretty hard to photograph without a telephoto lens.  One of the little buggers had me stalking the heck out of him climbing headlands and rocky outcrops to no avail.  They are smart!  Road runner smart!  And pretty cool too, breaking molluscs on their bellies with the use of a smashing stone.  There were also sea lions about.  We spotted our first one in a cove from atop a cliff.  At the bottom end of this cove was a swimming beach so I thought it a good idea to swim out and say hello to the little guy we had previously seen.  Two things....  the water in this part of the world is ridiculously cold!  My man bits were hating me and the overall burn to the submerged portions of my body was insane!  Secondly, getting to the seal was hard!  They hammer it around the sea weed beds with ease, I don´t.  That stuff is thick and spiny yo!  So when I saw the sea lion poke his head out at a distance from me I tried my best to get his interest and attract him.  Waiting for him to reappear after submerging my body started to shut down from the cold.  Just as I turned to head back in I heard something pop up behind me and breathe.  Damn!  That sea lion was a little bigger than I expected!  I headed for him but at the sight of this he shot back down again and I wasn´t going to stick around and become a dudecicle, so I headed in.  Toni sat on the beach all the while.  What a girl!  

Look for the otter head!

In search of a sea lion.

After two nights in Big Sur we were happy to move on.  We followed the promise of good coffee chains north back to SF.  Along the way we passed through Santa Cruz which seemed to be a pretty cool little place full of trendy cafes, shops and the like.  It also had a place just north where you could go and see elephant seals!  Unfortunately we missed the closing time for this little adventure to the disappointment of Toni.  Back in SF we finally handed the keys for the van back to the RV hire place, paid our excess mile charges (1000 miles in total, 300 over our quota) and headed back for the commune, oh I mean Co-Op.  Yay hippies!  This began the time for the hatching of our next set of plans haha!        

   

San Francisco – A Tale of a Different Kind of City

I have to admit, I had very little in terms of preconceived notions for San Francisco.  I guess my previous lack of desire to visit the US had made my brain lazy in thinking about these sorts of things.  Not knowing what to expect though helped me observe the place for how it presented itself.  And boy did it present itself! 

San Fran (SF) is not the sparkling postcard of a city.  It is far from it.  I couldn’t and still can’t believe the number of homeless, crazy and drugged out people that roam the streets of the city.  At one moment in time you could be walking through the cities down town streets past Gucci, Prada, etc and in the space of a block you are in what is termed a micro ghetto.  The crazy people are crazy for sure but also surprisingly polite and keen to verbalise a constructive comment.  My friend Toni who I was visiting can attest to this.  Quite often we would be walking down the road only to have people comment positively on her dress, hair, tattoos or anything other they could visually grab onto.   As for the entertainment value of it all, well that was there for sure. 

On my first lunch in the city I saw a guy clearly spacing on something a little stronger than herbal tea.  He came to the window of the diner where we sat dressed in multi-coloured polka dot black spandex pants, a tee shirt, high top sneakers and all while rocking a big thick blue sweat band across his forehead.  Atop his upper lip was a thick green two piece moustache tattoo.  This bloke was energetic to say the least and inside his brain he was clearly bouncing to some imaginary break dancing beats.  Sitting in front of the diner he prepped a table to eat the KFC he bought from down the street.  Prepping consisted of a whole lot of break dancing separated by hoovering the table clean with his mouth....  Afterwards he played a little hide and seek with his food, danced again, regathered and start eating....  This was no exaggeration the norm in terms of the level of crazy on display.

Atop the crazies, the streets were littered with people begging, talking to themselves, sleeping, dressed in pimp suits, animal skins, wearing tales and so on, so forth.  The locals were quite used to this kind of stuff that nothing really struck them as outrageous anymore.  You could walk around doing almost anything and people would address you with a straight face.  I was not in Kansas anymore!

Even the less obvious conversations could be amazingly entertaining.  One day while walking to down town Berkeley from Toni’s house we overheard a regular looking guy trying to pick up a girl who clearly knew he was punching above his weight.  The conversation went a little like this:  Guy: “You’re a very good looking girl.  I’m looking to only date good looking girls because ugly girls just bring you down.  They are soooo depressing.  You see, this is why I would like to date someone like you.  You’re very good looking”.  Best pick up line ever!  Toni couldn’t control herself from yelling a loud “WTF!”  I just broke down laughing.  Unperturbed, the guy proceeded to ask what the girl was doing later.  I don’t know if this actually worked for him.  I have seen stranger things happen in SF.  One thing is for sure, people really don’t hold back here!

But with all this happening people are super friendly and ridiculously polite.  This was not only evident in SF, but also all around it.  The customer service we found to be amazing.  The constant conversations we had with many a stranger was a joy as there was usually no setup. People would just freely talk to you about anything and everything.

The people dynamic was not only limited to the streets either.  Toni told me she lived in a Co-Op.  I just nodded and pretended I knew what this was but I had no idea.  Now I do....  Basically it is a big share house which in this case was full of hippies.  Out front were the chickens and a forest of edible fruit and veg.  There were apple trees, plum trees, blueberry and raspberry bushes, leafy greens, herbs and so on.  It was actually almost enough to sustain the house.  Did I mention the place was full of hippies though.  About 17 of them in total.  The conversations I had were great.  The most memorable was when I asked one of the guys how his day was.  He replied “it has been a beautiful day” before looking off toward the sun (directly at the sun actually) and reverting to silence for the next 3 minutes.  Best conversation ever!  Bloody hippies.

The Co-Op.

All the house members were friendly enough but damn were they odd.  The blokes lacked the one hormone men need to be men, testosterone, while the women had way too much hair.  I was told by at least one girl there that I balanced the house out.  And it is not because I lack hair....  I think my levels of enthusiasm and emotion were a bit too much for this placid crowd making for some interesting scenarios.

And the craziness kept on coming.  On the 5^th day we stumbled upon a street party to celebrate Juneteenth, an African American freedom celebration day.  We first got a run down on it from the two African American guys who were cutting my hair earlier that morning.  I had been told to ask them to give me some “swagga” with my hair style and they obliged.  Not paying too much attention I came out with a goatee a mirror image of what the guy cutting my hair was supporting....  In hind sight I should have thought that one through....  Eh, what the hell though.  I was hungry and the street party had food so off we went.  At one end of the party was a large stage with an African American reverend preaching some words in a very stereotypical manner.  At the end of his speech he introduced the next band to take the stage.  The lead vocalist was a large African American women and she was supported by three backup singers and a male vocalist on the bass.  The male vocalist started in a deep slow voice carrying on about the female butt.  Next thing we know, the lead singer and back up vocalists are chorusing “You gots ta, gots ta, gots ta do it in the butt!”  Annnnd I didn’t see that one coming!  There were all these old largish women around us wiggling their butts in tune with the song having a great old time to the pleasure of the surrounding men.  I just stood there with my mouth open looking like I had been hit with a wet fish.    

If I was to summarise my whole first week it would seem on paper like not too much happened.  But this is far from the truth.  I was more than entertained by the simple day to day happenings around me as I toured the city sights.  This was nothing like I had really seen before and there was a huge novelty factor.  The food was good although a little large and rich, the coffee was ordinary despite the hype and the people were loud in more ways than one.  I can see how the novelty of it all could wear off though and if it did it would become a little taxing.    

A Zachary's Chicago style pizza.  Heeeuuuuge!

And then there was the GLBT quarter at Castro.  Openly proud.

 One of many other signs.

Galapagos, A Summary Of

And so another travel chapter ends.  It is with a sense of achievement that I can proclaim to have lived up to my word and returned to South America solely to visit the Galapagos Islands.  The time frame has been perfect in order to achieve a sense of fulfillment in the amount I have seen and leave more than satisfied.  Financially the burden has been large.  These islands aren´t cheap, but I guess how you view this depends on what you value more, money or experience.

My final impressions of the place are as you would expect, different to what I had previously envisaged.  I came here to swim and play with both penguins and iguanas.  I leave here having done much more.  By far the most impressive undertaking of my trip was the eight day liveaboard scuba adventure to Wolf and Darwin Rocks.  The remainder of my time has entertained, although lacked somewhat when compared with my expectations of an adventurer´s paradise.

There is no doubting the significance of this place to the world.  It is incredible to see the more than obvious natural variances in so many species of animal.  These same differences were viewed by Charles Darwin all those years ago.  They captivated and helped inspire his hypothesis on the origin of species and evolution.  Here you can find evidence supporting these theories right on your door step.  There are flightless Cormorants, birds with stunted wings because they have evolved for a life in the water.  Vampire finches, little birds that have adapted to feed on the blood of other animals.  Marine iguanas, the world’s only ocean based lizard.  The list goes on. 

But with all these marvels within reach you find it almost impossible to feel as if you have truly grasped them.  This for me is the frustrating part.  Your expectations are of a real life discovery channel of wildlife but the actuality is somewhat less.   The Galapagos Islands are locked down tighter than the proverbial nuns....  And it is unfortunate for me to say this but I get a very real sense that it is mostly to protect the financial interests of the local population.  When staying on the islands, there is a tick and flick mentality to the tours offered.  This is probably why a multi day boat tour is preferable as you get some leeway with your activities.

 

When staying on the islands you will find that once you have been passed through the proverbial tourist meat grinder and seen all the usually array of pre-chewed sparkly stuff, you have one of two options.  You can sit on a beach and draw in the sand or you can bask in the one or two free activities on offer until the pain in your head gets too much.  In other words, once you have spent your money, you should leave.  But I had a month here and that was the time I was going to spend.  So I persisted.

Being a bit of an info geek and not averse to the odd bombing of scientific mumbo jumbo, I looked for interesting tours and the like to keep me happy.  Now my Spanish is nowhere near good enough for a scientific conversation, hence I signed up for the English speaking tours.  Unfortunately I was left wanting.  Almost all of my guides were less than convincing in both their mastery of the English language and their offerings of wisdom.  On the most part they managed to convey a definite sense of routine.  Hmmmm..... 1+1 = I know bad apples when I see them and these were bad apples.

Obviously I´m too Australian and bull headed to take well to this caper.  I thought “f@!k it, if these turkeys can´t give me what I want then I´ll just do it myself”.  That´s a big negatory on that one team leader....  Get off the happy happy little tourist merry go round and you will find out some fast facts of the non-sciencey type.  Like the one where happy little park rangers quickly become unhappy little park rangers when you decide to go and explore what it is that you want.  Result: they get $2,000 a head angry.  Even despite the fact you may have done absolutely nothing to interfere with anything.  Don´t expect any consistent reasoning for their displeasure either and the “oh, I´m an idiot tourist with no Spanish skills” trick only works the one time.  Cause now they know your name and details.  And they are very prudent on getting them exaaactly right.

FAST FACTS for the travelling public:  The deal is this:

You can snorkel where we tell you to, and if one suitable snorkelling hole for an island girt by sea and ridiculous marine wonder is not enough for you, you can take a tour J

Within the national park, you need a guided tour to do most activities unless it is designated otherwise.  And try to get off the designated path.  You will find a host of signs and rope fences preventing this.  On the other side of these fences lies...... you guessed it, a $2,000 fine!

You cannot approach within 2m of the wildlife unless you are on a boat tour then you can wedge a boat in the butt crack of any animal.

You definitely cannot by any stretch touch the animals unless they touch you, even if they are on your stuff or in your way.

Well Mr Park Ranger man, here is a list of animals that just happened to clamber on over and touched me.  Iguanas, turtles, giant tortoises, sharks, rays, fish, octopi, seals and the odd bird.  I must be the Ace freakin Ventura of the Galapagos.

All this out there though, it is not a bad place if your time is short or you are just looking for a place to relax and do nothing much during your travels.  I can think of more than a dozen other places though that would be cheaper to relax and do nothing much, but they probably don´t have seals you can just chill with.  Try not to get caught in the hype of not doing a boat tour around the islands.  I personally think this is a mistake.  The best stuff is the out of the way stuff and like the islands the wildlife is quite varied by local.  Now I will leave you with a little motto that will aid you in your decision making processes when visiting this area and it goes a little something like this:  It doesn´t pay to be tight on the Galapagos. 

And now for the good bit.  I won´t hate you much if you just scrolled down to the end looking for the pictures.  You can´t help a short attention span.  

Isabella Island.  The largest of the Galapagos archipelago and covered with many different kinds of volcanic rock.  It is like being on the moon.

On these rocks live many an aptly named Lava Lizard.  These little guys attend to those pesky insects so that you can relax and enjoy life.

Isabella is also home to some massive marine iguanas.  Could be a front rower.

Godzilla in waiting.

I think my quote was "The Galapagos are like the islands where all the left over animals went".  Flamingos....really.....

A Blue Footed Boobie targeting some unsuspecting little morsel.

Cute as hell sea lions.

Randy turtles.  Those guys in the background would prefer their privacy....

Underwater landscapes.

Underwater lava tunnels.

And people not following the rules.

Scuba Me!

Like all things you look forward to with great anticipation, they all come and go.  Some experiences leave you with a sense of disappointment and wanting while others, like this scuba trip, manage to blow your little mind.

So you know the experience was good, but how good is good and was it all good?  I think I will start with the tour group dynamic.  Imagine this: a tour worth a lot of money, a country not too far from the good ol US of A.  Worst possible outcome.... heaps of older yanks and little old me sitting on a boat 150nm off the Galapagos.  I must have said at some point in time “what are the chances of that?” because you guessed it!  Six rich Americans and little old me.  I was thinking real hard on how I could throw this trip and claim it on my travel insurance when I heard of a last minute inclusion to the itinerary.  He was a bloke called Denton who had accidentally missed the tour start date because he had got on the wrong plane in Guayaquil and ended up in the Jungle!  We would have to pick him up on our second day.  My thoughts were mixed as I was hoping to god he would be of a similar age to me and a complete dude, but I was also thinking “If he can´t get on the right plane to here, I ain´t buddying up with him in the middle of the bloody Pacific Ocean!”  But as the fortune gods would have it he ended up being a really cool Jamaican guy who just got the wrong end of the stick in Guayaquil.

So I had a friend!  And I needed it.  All the “back in California” and “I´ve had better here and seen better there” rubbish was wearing a little bit thin with this hot blooded bloke.  Wow, American tourists living up to their rep abroad, who would have thunk it?

But that was pretty much all the complaints I could have.  The crew were good, the food was great and the diving was out of this world!  We started our trip off with some introductory dives to get everyone used to the extra salty and retardedly cold conditions of the local waters (I am from sunny Australia, so I am allowed to say 19 degree C water is retardedly cold!).    The first few dive sites were close in to the main islands of the Galapagos and as such not to good on the ol quality meter.

 There were heaps of starfish....

As we moved further afield, the diving shifted up not just one gear but the whole gear box!  The waters became warmer (about 24 degrees C), the visibility improved massively and the animals, well.....holey crap!  Our first stop was Wolf Island where we encountered heaps of schooling hammer head and Galapagos sharks, big eagle rays and our first whale shark!  The whale shark encounter had me and my dive buddy excitedly punching the living hell out of each other under water as we were the only two to see this monster during our second dive safety stop.  On each dive I managed to employ some of my fish stalking skills to get extra close to these critters of the deep in order to bring you some photos that help portray the whole experience.

These guys were all around either soaring overhead or resting on the boat as we headed out.

There are lots of spotted eagle rays at Wolf.  This one is acting as a cleaning station for some jacks.

This is a black tip shark

One of many hammerheads.  They really don´t like to come too close.  Watch your bubbles if you want to approach them.

After Wolf Island, we moved on to Darwin Island where things bettered themselves yet again.  There were more sharks, including the odd whale shark, massive tuna, dolphins, octopi and the list goes on.  We saw schools of thousands of bonito being herded together by hungry dolphins.  I managed to run my finger from the tip to tail of a whale shark, dodging the dorsal and tail fins on the way.  It was nothing short of incredible.  I was in my element and not being afraid to get among it, I consistently got closer than anyone to the action.  And so the reputation of yet another crazy Aussie abroad continued.  It was absolutely amazing. 

Bonito by the tonne.  I discovered a little trick with these Ferrari´s of the ocean. Point at them and it is almost like trowing a lasoo around them.  They will now follow where you are pointing (at least for a little while).

Yep, there were many a hammerhead.

This is a big 12m mumma whale shark.  She was tagged earlier by some local scuba Steves with spearguns and tag prongs.

On top of a whale shark.  Bam!

The good life in front of Darwin´s Arch.

Quintessential Andrew.

The diving culminated with some very cold water dives to the north of Fernandina Island.  Here the waters were a little below 14 degrees C.  Wearing nothing but a 7mm suit and hood I soon came to feel the cold.  Consistently diving 30m and staying in the water for nearly an hour per dive, I became border line hypothermic.  After the second dive, my motor and neural skills declined rapidly and not even a 20 minute hot shower after could cure me.  I managed to bring my core temperature back by wrapping myself in all my clothes and lying on the sun deck of the boat for an hour.  It was for this reason that I decided to opt out of the third dive of the day and snorkel instead.  Best move EVER.  Because I did this, I was assigned a panga (tender) driver of my own to look over me as I did what I wanted too.  As we were heading off to the area I wanted to snorkel the driver spotted some orca.  At light speed we were over there right next to a massive mother a calf and what looked to be another juvenile.  The driver and I had spent some time getting to know each other earlier on the trip and I think it was because of this he quickly hit me up to see if I wanted to hop in.  As he hit me up the mumma orca breached showing a full set of pearly whites.  Massive.  I have to admit I was a little slow in my getting back to him on that one!  There were a few thoughts battling it out in my mind.  The first:  Big animal...BIG TEETH.  The second:  When are you going to get this chance again bro?  The third:  Just get in the water you girl.  And with that my mind was set and I was in.  But as soon as the orcas came they went and I actually didn´t get to see them in the cloudy waters.  ARRRRR! 

Mumma orca.  Big teeth.

All this was soon forgotten though because I was snorkelling less than a meter away from hunting penguins, grazing turtles and iguanas!  And none of them were going anywhere fast.  I just chilled in the water for some 60 minutes just soaking it all up.  It was the best snorkelling experience ever! 

Iguana in the water

And I mucked around with this little fella for a bit too.

But it was all about the pengiunos!

The last day of the tour was a land based day where we got to see some of the sights of the main Galapagos island, Santa Cruz.  These sights included the giant tortoises the Galapagos are so famous for.

Now I think I should do a service for all those of you who are thinking of ever scuba diving the Galapagos.  Here is what I have learnt in my time on the islands:

1. Land based diving is not even a shadow of what is on offer out wide upon a liveaboard.  But liveaboards are expensive as hell in comparison.  Last minute deals are readily available in the low season if you have the time to shop around.  You can fairly regularly save around the 25% mark.  But a word of advice is that the cost of hiring equipment is extra and pretty costly.  Then there are dive videos and gratuities.
2. Finding a tour from the Galapagos is what I did and it was very easy.  I booked through Scuba Iguana but there are other operators you can use.  It is easier than booking through an agent in Guayaquil or Quito because you can more readily find a place that specialises in scuba trips.  That said, you can just email the operators directly and negotiate that way.     
3. The best diving is during the period of the year when the Humboldt Current is in force and the waters are colder.  I would highly recommend October which is smack bang in the middle of the low season.  The skies may be pretty grey, but the waters are rammed with more animals than any other time of the year.
4. The diving is more advanced than the usual.  Currents can be pretty strong (3 knots or so) and the visibility out wide is still only limited to about 20m on a good day.  You will experience thermoclines that at any time can just wash in with the current.  Some temperature differentials were in the order of 6 degrees.
5. Though we did not experience any big swells, the group before us did.  This can make surfacing and getting back into the pangas (tenders) difficult.  You will more than likely be diving out of the pangas for all but your first dives.
6. Bottom time is important.  You want to be good on your air so that you can stay down longer to see as much action as possible.  Depths are consistently around the 20 to 30m mark.  Though I was diving on air, others were using Nitrox in order to not have to worry about their bottom times maxing out.  This forced me up on the odd occasion.
7. If you are using an underwater camera, the temperature differentials in the water play havoc with any condensation inside your housing.  Pack plenty of silica to try to counteract this.  
8. And finally, the Galapagos is about the big stuff.  The underwater landscapes are dull and drab.  It is the animals that make it amazing.  Hence as I mentioned earlier, go when the animals are at their peak.