From my journal... Read Galapagos part 1.
The highlight of being in the Galapagos is falling asleep on the beach and waking up with a sea lion pup or a giant iguana napping or sunning by your head. It happened to me yesterday afternoon. I dozed off, my book still open in the sand beside me. The book pages flapped just a little louder in the wind, and I woke with a start and came eye to eye with a sea lion pup. I jumped a little in shock, and the pup looked on wide-eyed, nonplussed as I scrambled to get my bearings. My laughter rang out over the waves until Zan's head popped up, snorkel goggles still on his eyes. He saw the tail end of the scene and lamented not getting it all on video. It would have been a good one.
My favorite spots and moments have been El Chino beach on San Cristobal, where we saw blue-footed boobies up close and a frigate nest. The water there was a shade of brilliant turquoise like I haven't seen since Koh Phi Phi in Thailand. I was certain then I'd never see water so beautiful, but a few of these Galapagos beaches come close. I also love Los Loberia, a beach on San Cristobal that's only accessible on foot. It's a sea lion reserve.
At first I was nervous around sea lions. They're territorial and defensive; they roar the second you come to close on land. I joked to Zan that they're kind of jerks. But on Loberia, they're friendlier - that is, less likely to roar in protest of your very presence - and the pups are curious and lovable.
And now I'm on Tortuga Bay on Santa Cruz island. It's said to be one of the most beautiful beaches in all of the Galapagos. When I'm thigh-deep in the ocean, I can see all the way to the bottom with the clarity of clean glass. It's so translucent and just the right amount of cold that envelops you until it starts to feel warmer under the current than above that I want to stay in the water more than on land. Every time I dip my head under the rolling, soft waves, it's so refreshing that I go back for more.
Giant iguanas are to this beach as sea lions are to Los Loberia. I like them! They don't care about humans. They do whatever they want. They're also confident, if that can be said of a reptile. The way they stand with perfect posture and their heads lifted as if in a sun salutation - they're the zen animals of the Galapagos. There are 12 giant iguanas around me that I count as I write this.
The one downside of the Galapagos beaches is the horseflies. They are as abundant as the sea lions on San Cristobal and the iguanas here. They're a nuisance. My legs are covered in their bites or stings or whatever pain they're inflicting. I finally bought repellant. Now that I've coated my body in it a dozen times or more in the last hour, I have a sneaking suspicion that it attracts the sun. Burnt or bitten: pick your poison.
I've been thinking that if I were to come back to the Galapagos - and I'd like to... maybe when I have kids - that I'd still want to do it land-based and independently instead of on a cruise. Meeting locals and participating in local culture and daily life has been the best part of our trip.
While I write this, Zan is on a day trip to Isabella island. I can't wait to hear about his experiences with flamingos, penguins, sea turtles, and friends he meets along the way. And I'll tell him about the joy and beauty and wonderment of doing nothing but being on this beach, watching the waves lap and the iguanas sun, and journaling about nothing more serious than this perfect moment -- horseflies aside.
