Kicker Rock

After a breakfast of fresh fruit and scrambled egg this morning, we and the group left the shores of San Cristóbal island bound for 'Kicker Rock'.

Kicker Rock

Masked drivers

The formation, which we had viewed yesterday from afar while snorkelling, locally goes by the monicker 'león dormido', owing to the resemblance to a sleeping lion when viewed from a certain angle. The shape was not immediately apparent to me as we circumnavigated the towering rocks, whose faces are home to blue-footed boobies, nascar boobies and frigate birds. The males of this last species puff out the red pouch under their beaks like a balloon when in search of a mate.

Frigate bird

Blue-footed booby

Sea lion

In actual fact, the 'rock' turned out to be two - the vertical pillars rising out of the sea combine into one when viewed from the shore, and hide the channel running between them.

Channel through Kicker Rock

Donning our gear, we leapt into the now familiar chill of the water and investigated the wildlife drawn to these rocks. Schools of fish were evident in the murky depths, through which giant turtles languidly paddled and the occasional shark lithely zipped, breaking the group up briefly before it reformed.

Snorkelling around

In the water, with faces covers by masks, everyone tends to look the same. It was such confusion - and not a wayward shark - that led us and a few others to get separated from the group as we mistakenly followed a separate party back to their boat, only to find strange and bemused-looking faces when we tried to alight.

Lunch on board

Having been reunited with our own group, we took a simple lunch of rice and vegetables on the boat before motoring to a nearby beach.

The beach

We were welcomed by a solitary marine iguana, whose peaceful repose on the sand we were about to interrupt. A sea lion rolling playfully in the surf would have completed the idyllic scene, were it not for the less welcome horse flies that delivered abrupt and painful stings intermittently.

A friendly greeting

The evening saw us chew over the day's sightings with a few of the group at Miconia, which plied traditional tourist fare, such as pesto spaghetti.

Back at port

Hasta Luego, Quito

Staying overnight in the rather plush Hotel Quito, we were anticipating the unusual luxury of a hotel breakfast. However, despite starting at 6am, we had to leave the building for our flight to Galapagos before even this early hour. The hotel made us up a boxed breakfast to eat on the road to the airport for our Avianca flight via Guayaquil to San Cristóbal island. With Jesus at the wheel - well, Jesús (pronounced hay-ZOOS) - our fifteen-strong group munched away happily for the one-hour transfer.

The flight was uneventful, touching down briefly in Guayaquil to exchange the early-morning commuters for more holidaymakers to the isolated islands, situated 1000km off the coast of Ecuador. We landed at one of the two airports on the archipelago, on San Cristóbal, or Chatham island, as it was originally known.

San Cristóbal is the first of four islands we will be visiting this week and is moderately populated. It is a shock to see such infrastructure and buildings on what we imagine to be uninhabited islands. To be fair, the majority of the Galapagos is national park and, as such, is protected from development. Despite knowing that the wildlife has domain over the rest of the island, it was still odd to check in to the fancy Blue Marlin hotel.

First order after dropping our bags was to gather everyone for lunch. At a small, open restaurant on the corner, we had a simple soup and vegetable omelette with rice and salad. Everyone else lunched on fish, caught directly on the island.  Much of the rest of the food is imported from the mainland as the small amount of land permitted to be farmed barely supports the resident community, let alone the requirements of voracious visitors.

A walk along the sea front gave us the first glimpse of the endemic and fiercely protected wildlife: sea turtles popping their heads briefly above water, red crabs contrasting against the black volcanic rocks, which they shared with sea lions, and the occasional jellyfish.

Marine iguana

Sea lion and crabs

At the "Interpretation Centre" farther along the coast, our guide, Mauricio, set out the route for the next week: San Cristóbal to Floreana island, thence to Isabela, arriving at Santa Cruz for our return flight to Quito.

Mauricio

The nineteen islands that make up the Galapagos archipelago are volcanic land masses, having erupted into existence in the Pacific Ocean so far from the mainland that all of the original flora and fauna made its own way by land or sea, while later introductions to the ecosystem were brought - intentionally or otherwise - by the arrival of Man on the vicinity. Having introduced livestock and plants that unbalanced the existing ecosystem and also rapidly depleting the natural resources - e.g. killing the giant tortoises* for their fat and meat - the most recent custodians of the islands have found themselves with the tricky problem of eradicating 'pests' and invasive species.

* Darwin himself rode and ate the creatures despite being in awe of their antediluvian appearance.

Far from being a peaceful haven of species left to evolve without the effects of natural predators, the Galapagos have a chequered recent past. Having been declared in 1832 by Colonel Ignacio Hernandez as territory of the Republic of Ecuador, it wasn't long before the world reacted to this appropriation of what appeared to be common land. The US wanted to declare the islands as res nullis, but later perhaps revealed their true motives as they stationed a base on Galapagos after the attacks on Pearl Harbour. As many remote locations, the islands have also been used as prison camps over the years and other characters have taken themselves into self-imposed isolation on misanthropic grounds or attracted by the opportunity to create a utopian idyll.

With the history lesson over for now, we enjoyed the island for what it is currently - a colourful and largely natural environment teeming with unusually approachable wildlife. While pelicans rested the weight of their enormous bills on rocks nearby and the sharp-angled silhouettes of frigate birds could be seen wheeling overhead, we braved the cold water to snorkel with the marine life. At this time of year, the Humboldt current cools the sea to around 20°C - chilly enough to require a wetsuit for prolonged snorkelling - while later the Panama current will bring warmer water and, with it, jellyfish. I was happy to suffer the chill and swim among sea lions, marine turtles, and colourful fish, which reminded us of earlier stages of this trip in SE Asia.

Snorkelling with a view of Kicker Rock

Swimming makes one hungry and so, once we had had our fill of the visual feast, we repaired to a restaurant recommended by Mauricio for dinner. Unsurprisingly, the island cuisine relies heavily on seafood and the menu offered no explicitly vegetarian choices. However, the staff were happy to cobble together a typically heavy Ecuadorian plate of choclo 'on the cob', rice, beans.

Rice and beans

The nighttime version of the harbour front saw sea lions, having heaved themselves ashore, lying about the place like drunken men passed out on the road. The unfortunate likeness was lent an air of verisimilitude by the wet patches that extended from underneath their prone forms. Some of the figures were even slumped on the benches - how they manoeuvred themselves up remained a mystery - missing only a brown paper bag to complete the image.

One too many Tennent's

Luxury at Hotel Quito

Our Galapagos adventure started today with a prelude. We and the other travellers we will be joining were invited to spend the day and night at the Hotel Quito, which functions as a kind of staging area for tomorrow's launch. We bade farewell to our hosts at the Blue Door and took a taxi to the other side of the city.

Unlike the budget accommodation provided before the Inca Trail trek, the Hotel Quito is one of the poshest in the city - or, at least, it has the nicest view over Guápulo.

A room with a view

The building itself reminds me of a modern church, with a purple parabola outside and floor-to-ceiling arched windows inside, which only seem to be missing the stained glass.

Hotel Quito parabola

Having checked in and had our luggage delivered to our room, we marvelled a while at the view from the balcony before spending the rest of the afternoon lounging by the pool.

We broke our lazing by trotting down the hill to the vegetarian restaurant, El Maple, which had served us so well a couple of weeks ago but which had recently been closed for renovations. According to posters, it was due to open its door again today, but they remained resolutely shut when we approached them this afternoon.

As it was the weekend, our choices were limited. We had no better luck at "Cats", where we discovered not a single vegetarian option on the menu, so we ended up with the fail-safe veggie option of an Italian restaurant, Romolo e Remo. However, the pizzas we ordered turned out to be tiny bite-sized pizza bits, more akin to bruschetta. I suspect any self-respecting Italian would have had words to say about the 'pizzetti', but we smiled and coyly ordered lasagne and salad to help fill out the meal.

Rations

In the late afternoon cloud moved in and so we bided our time until 6pm, when we met up with our local representative for the trip, Fatima, and the rest of the fifteen-strong group for an orientation meeting. Unlike the Inca trail, there was little in the way of serious preparations, so we filled out some paperwork and spent the rest of the time getting to know the other travellers, who hailed mostly from Australia, Britain, Switzerland, and the USA.

Salsa Congress

Using up the small number of ingredients with which we had stocked our kitchen, we breakfasted heartily - not to mention unhealthily - on fried potatoes, fried eggs and fried banana, as is the South Americans' wont.

After breakfast I left the traditional area of San Juan for the wide palm-lined boulevards around the super modern shopping mall Quicentro in the north of Quito. I was due to see a man about a camera lens. My own telephoto lens having finally given up after nearly a year's constant use, and with an impending trip to the Galapagos, I was keen to secure a replacement. Import taxes in Ecuador are high, so a new lens was out of the question. Fortunately I acquired a nearly new version for a fraction of the cost.

My trip to the northern end of town was made possible by the efficient and cheap bus service. The service does have its peculiarities, as the bendy buses come screeching to a halt at each stop, sending all passengers (36 seated and up to 144 standing) flying down the coach unless packed so tightly as to be unable to move independently. Even though the buses have their own dedicated lanes, the schedule must be tight, as they speed off from the stops, closing the doors as people are still alighting. Today I witnessed one such man, having been stuck in the doors, give the driver an earful.

For reasons unclear to me, many vegetarian restaurants tend only to be open at lunch time and El Eden - close to where we are staying - is no exception. Despite being conveniently situated, today was the first opportunity we have had to visit and we found friendly service and a delicious menu of cream of carrot soup served with popcorn 'croutons', and vegetarian guatita.

Popcorn croutons

Guatita

Also on our doorstep but hitherto ignored by us is the Centre for Contemporary Arts. A relatively small number of rotating exhibitions are housed in an enormous building - formerly the military hospital - while the remainder is given over to offices and a café. With much of the building unoccupied, it left the negative space of the architecture itself to shine.

Old military hospital

From one fascinating building, we segued neatly to another: the gargantuan 60's style of the Teatro Nacional, which is reminiscent of London's Royal Festival Hall before the 2005 renovations. It was here that the Salsa Congress was to take place over the next few days, with 500 dancers from South America arriving in Quito.

The theatre is built for 5000 and swallowed up the substantial audience for the event. As music, it is quite unusual to hear salsa in Ecuador. In fact, on our trip through Chile, Bolivia and Peru, it is usually reggaeton or bachata that floats out of house and car windows, while salsa is more popular in Colombia, Puerto Rico, and Cuba.

The congress ranged from amateur to professional, starting at 4:30 and not finishing until after 11pm, with a short break at 7pm. Even the amateur dancers exploded onto the stage with vigour and poise that captured the audience.

And hold it...

Enthusiasm

Fancy finish

At the intermission, as the entire theatre - including the performers - filed across the road to fill the small MacDonald's restaurant, we took a slightly extended break and dropped into La Fábrica, offering "pizza and beer". Ironically the pizza oven was broken so the first thing was out, but a couple of beers from northern Quito's Sinners brewery made up for the slightly lacklustre pasta in its place. K enjoyed the coco and ginger IPA, which to me was reminiscent of shampoo, but the Red Evil ale did not disappoint with its malty body.

Back at the theatre, the competition continued apace, switching gears as pairs demonstrated their prowess at other styles of dance, including tango.

Tango at a salsa congress?

Pro-am pairing

The entrants were in the majority from Colombia, Ecuador and Peru, with the Colombians being by far the flashiest among them. As the dancing hotted up, so the tempo increased and the costumes became more spangly and glittery.

Giving it some

Blonde 'fro

Synchronised hair

One event demonstrated that same-sex pairings could be equally entertaining and were no impediment to flamboyant displays.

Male splits

As the evening came to a crescendo, so the routines gained in complexity, numbers of people, and the amount of flips, turns, spins and lifts.

Up she goes

Spin the lady

Packing Up

This morning we embarked on the final packing of our bags before returning home. Our return flight to the UK is not scheduled until the end of the month; in the meantime we will take an excursion to the Galapagos islands with a small amount of luggage. Today we jettisoned the sorry-looking remnants of our clothes that show the wear and tear of our past year's travel like a clothing curriculum vitae and crammed the remaining space in our rucksacks with the enormous number of gifts and souvenirs we have accumulated on the way.

With bags stuffed and other essentials acquired - everything is marked up in Galapagos owing to its remote nature - we rubbed elbows with the local vegetarian quiteños at Ari and partook of the set lunch: corn soup followed by a mix of healthy vegetables with 'carne vegetal' and llapingachos (potato cakes).

Llapingachos

Nourishment for the soul in the afternoon came courtesy of the small gallery inside the former home of Camilo Egas - the 'first' indigenous painter in Ecuador.

Egas' works depicting indigenous dance and celebrations were warm and aesthetically pleasing, but his later style - drawing from abstract pieces by European artists - left me cold.

We side-stepped the gathering crowds of police - presumably preparing for further demonstrations by the anti-Correa protestors - and went for a final drink at Bandido Brewing.

Keeping out of trouble

This evening saw the final MIVA showcase and the now familiar improvisational display by the staff-cum-performers was no less bizarre than yesterday's.

I have no idea any more

The video shorts threw up examples at either end of the scale. The event started with an interminable piece by Alex Schlenker of his wife cavorting in their bathroom - filmed from two orthogonal angles - which almost had me walking out. I was glad I stayed, as the following pieces were of much higher quality and contained amongst them a sublimely original, bizarre and macabre piece of claymation by Allison Schulnik, called Eager.

Market Day

We set today aside to return to the artisanal market in La Mariscal and shop for gifts for ourselves and those we would soon be seeing at home.

Pre-market breakfast was taken at Ethnic Coffee on Avenida Amazonas, which seemed to be a slightly more comfortable and upmarket café to try the Ecuadorian specialties available from simpler stands elsewhere. The higher prices were reflected in the presentation. The patacones con queso (fried bananas layered with cheese), and bolones de verde (plantain ball stuffed with cheese) were both served on a sizzling hot plate.

Patacones

At the market we shopped the colourful objects piled high on the numbered stalls and inexpertly tried to bargain with the stallholders, who offered a one- or two-dollar discount on the price before we had even opened our mouths. However, any further requests for a reduction were met with quizzical looks and a flat refusal. Seldom is anything priced on such stalls - or, indeed, in more established shops - a fact which I still have great trouble even after nearly a year's exposure to the complicated ritual of effecting such transactions. I rarely attempt to haggle - knowing my efforts to be largely futile - but I find the fact that the customer is required to probe the seller not only about the price but also concerning the nature of the item for sale. Some things are obvious, while others might spark further enquiries.

Erm.... shrunken heads?

For some products, a glance is all that is required to ascertain whether further enquiry necessary as to the price. Yet, when it comes to food, a raft of anonymous pies, tarts and other confections are presented without comment, their contents and constituents a mystery. Instead of silently weighing my tastes with the available selection before arriving at a choice, I am forced to ask about each item. "This one contains pork." "I see. And this one?" "That is chicken." "OK. What about...?" And so it continues. A frustrating exchange ensues for both parties, at the end if which I may find nothing to my taste and walk away without purchase. That said, I suspect I may miss such personal engagement with the seller when I return home to faceless supermarket aisles and checkouts.

Our purchases weighing heavily on our arms - I wondered where we might find room to pack them in our already overfull bags - we took lunch again at Manantial on the charmingly colourful square. I largely unexciting but nutritious soup, salad and menestra de fréjoles (bean stew) was the choice of the day.

Plaza Borja Yerovi

Pure greediness and indulgence followed, as we sat down at Sweet & Coffee for a frankly disgustingly sized piece of chocolate cake layered with manjar (dulce de leche).

Pure indulgence

In the evening, the MIVA festival continued from last night and took a turn for the weird as the ushers/performers reprised their improvisation with an interpretation of "el autor y erotismo".

Things get weird at MIVA

There followed an hour or so of dance-related videos, including a selection of stunning shorts from the Fiver Dance festival. Ramo & Ramo presented a performance using a clean, digital aesthetic with Me - Story of a Performance. Igor Krasik lightened the mood with some animated breakdancing. Alex Pinchon's piece, You Will Fall Again, was a powerful and compact short story, while Off Ground delivered an emotional dance between mother and son.

Dance

The nearby volcano, Cotopaxi, which recently awoke from its slumber to start letting off clouds of grey ash, was this morning spewing said ash into an unusually clear blue sky. We, following the people of Quito, carried on as usual, with no particular sense of foreboding. The threat of an immense and potentially destructive geological event hanging over the populace seems to do nothing to create a sense of urgency.

The continuing unhurried pace in the capital - ostensibly under a "state of emergency" as well as an uprising of the people against President Correa -  was best evidenced by the small café we visited for breakfast of tortillas de maíz y trigo with a hot cup of morocho.

Tortilla and morocho

Aside from us and the ladies tending the searingly hot grill dishing out the tortillas, each table was filled with police in yellow reflective jackets. I lazily assumed that they get their breakfast for free, perhaps in exchange for extra protection or perhaps just to turn a blind eye to the shelves of counterfeit DVDs at the back of the shop.

Faces of Quito (outside the city museum)

Heading from breakfast to the Museo de la Ciudad (city museum), housed inside the former hospital, we tried to fill in the blanks on Quito's history. Saints for earthquakes. San Jerónimo was named patron saint of earthquakes after the destruction wrought in 1587. San Miguel, already patron saint of locksmiths and swordsmiths, was added as a protector in 1655 following a similar event. Only a few years later, in 1660, Pichincha started erupting, precipitating the announcement of La Virgen de la Merced as the patron of the city of Quito. This was a role she appeared to excel in, as she halted three days of tremors that rocked the city in 1755 and led to her being named "special protector" of Quito. However, the run stopped soon after, in 1797, when earthquakes destroyed many buildings, killed an estimated 40,000 people and set off Cotopaxi volcano.

Courtyard of the former hospital

After piecing together the fascinating history of the city from the museum's artifacts, we took advantage of the good weather and ate in the courtyard of La Cuchara de San Marcos.

Colourful San Marcos street

Soup and 'lasagne' of courgette - actually more of a rich ratatouille - were the lunch menu of the day, followed by a small pancake filled with strawberry coulis.

Lunch in the sun

Sadly they had run out of the excellent cerveza de la casa, so we enjoyed the sunshine with a fresh-fruit blackberry lemonade before hopping on the bus to Cherusker Cervecería Alemana for a sip of their Dragón Rojo and Super Doble.

Seating at Cherusker

Following the series of cultural events for the beginning of summer, the MIVA 'festival of cine' opened this evening at the Casa de la Cultura. Despite being advertised as a showing of short films, the event began with an unexpected piece of improvisational theatre. The ushers proceeded to change out of their formal attire and asked the audience to select at random from a list of sentence fragments, such as "the artist and suicide", which they then interpreted.

Improvisation

After this strange introduction, the presentation began, which centred mostly around dance. Several video pieces of modern ballet took full advantage of the medium and several - such as Fibers by The Animation Workshop, and Under by Kevin Frilet - stood out for me.