The Galápagos Islands are famously wonderful - in the literal sense of being full of wonders. Their location is unique and so, in consequence, is much of their wildlife. In the continuing throes of creation by a volcanic hotspot far out in the Pacific Ocean, they provide a natural laboratory for the study of how life first gains a foothold, and then adapts to survive, on new terrain. Moreover, since most of their area has been declared a national park by the Ecuadorian government, every effort is being made to conserve their extraordinary character.
Whether this makes them wonderful to visit is a different question, the answer depending on what you look for in your travels.
* Arrival *
The airport on Baltra Island at which most visitors arrive is not part of the national park, and is certainly not scenic. A former military airstrip, its runway seems well-camouflaged in a landscape of scrub and rocky rubble. The terminal building is basic and strictly functional, faced by a cluster of souvenir shops. In the space between the two you board an over-crowded bus to lurch the mile or two to an equally basic, functional quayside, assuming you will be touring the islands by boat - and, unless you want to limit your visit to Baltra and the adjacent Santa Cruz Island, there is no other way.
While waiting at the quay no one sits on the benches provided, since these are already occupied by slumbering sea lions. Even if you wanted to dispute their precedence, their droppings would deter you; the odour alone is discouragement enough. Pelicans fish from the surrounding rocks. These are two of the more endearing species found on the Galápagos, though of course both can be seen elsewhere, and observing them whets the appetite for what will be experienced later. Eventually the relevant dinghies arrive for whichever cruise-boat you have booked on, and the visit proper can begin.
* Some geological background *
The Galápagos straddle the equator west of the South American coast. At their nearest point they are about 1000km from the Ecuadorian mainland, at their furthest about 1250 km.
All the islands creep constantly coastward, but will never arrive. Long before that could happen they sink beneath the waves. This is because they are perched on a tectonic plate - known as the Nazca - that geological forces are gradually driving down under the South American plate. It is the friction between the two that makes the whole region so prone to earthquakes. Even as the older islands are slowly submerged on their eastward journey, though, they are replaced by new-formed ones to the west, where underwater volcanoes erupt and the resultant lava spews high up above sea level before solidifying.
The whole "conveyor belt" process from creation to submersion typically takes an island between three and five million years, with the entire formation moving at about 7cm a year. By geological standards this is fairly hurtling along, though it doesn't make for much visible change at any one spot during the average visitor's lifetime, let alone average visit. What the visitor can do is to see on each island the progressive effects of eruption, weathering, erosion, colonisation by flora and fauna, and the gradual adaptation of these to their new surroundings.
* Cruising around *
Baltra, although the only starting-point available, is not an ideal place from which to begin a cruise around the Galápagos. This is because it lies at the centre of the chain, and itineraries based on it have to go first one way, then the other, then back, thereby confusing the geological sequence and making it harder to appreciate the natural differences between the islands. However, the alternative airport on San Christóbal Island, at the extreme east of the chain, is currently out of action.
Let's pretend that we could follow the most logical route, in the direction taken by the islands themselves, from west to east, what would we see? Ignoring for the purpose of this exercise the smaller outlying islands, the main ones are:
~ Fernandina, the youngest and most volcanically active - erupting most recently in 2005 - is still conical in shape and consists mainly of bare rock formed from the cooling lava, but life has begun to find living-space at its fringes. Cactuses and similar plants have settled in "kipukas" - spaces untouched by recent eruptions; at one or two spots there are even pioneering mangroves. The only point on the island at which one is allowed ashore is in the midst of them. Here flightless cormorants nest and marine iguanas, as black and rough-surfaced as the rock, bask in the sunshine, snorting out surplus salt ingested during their stints in the sea.
~ Isabella, the biggest of the islands, formed from not just one but seven separate volcanoes. The tallest of these, Mt Wolf, has, at 1700m, the highest peak in the Galápagos. Much of Isabella's coastline looks as inhospitably rocky as that of Fernandina, and we did not go ashore, though we did explore a cove by dinghy to see penguins nesting amid the boulders beneath the cliffs.
~ Santiago, a million years or so older than Isabella, and hence more rounded and much greener. Iguanas, turtles, flamingos and hawks all thrive here. So too, unfortunately, do pigs and goats originally introduced by would-be settlers, now running wild and disturbing the natural habitat. Just off Santiago is the islet of Bartholomew, which offers no more than the standard range of marine life but on which you can climb up to a lookout point from which to admire a fine panorama in all directions, including the apparently famous view of Pinnacle Rock (see pic below).
~ Santa Cruz, Baltra and North Seymour - in descending order of size, south to north. Santa Cruz has the largest population of the four inhabited islands, and is the focal point for conservation and research centres - including those for breeding the different species of giant tortoise for which the Galápagos are renowned. Santa Cruz also has examples of tunnels created by lava flows, which can be explored, and extinct volcanoes amid its varied terrain. All six types of vegetation found in the Galápagos are represented, which makes this a good place for spotting some of the rarer birds. Not particularly rare, but wonderfully impressive with their puffed-out scarlet chests, are the magnificent frigate birds seen on North Seymour, where they compete with blue-footed boobies for nesting-room.
~ Española. Small, uninhabited, low-lying and at the extreme south-eastern fringe of the Galápagos, this is one of the oldest of the islands, but the terrain is still rocky and the flora scrubby with salt bush, scorpion weed and mesquite. It is, though, one of the best spots for birdwatching, particularly the breeding grounds of the handsome waved albatrosses with their ungainly, fluffy-feathered chicks. The beach at Gardner Bay is ideal both for snorkelling among the sea lions and for observing them onshore. The customs of the colony are fascinating, with each 'beachmaster' male patrolling his twenty or thirty metres of shore, keeping his harem in order and warning off prospective rivals.
~ San Cristóbal. The second (to Santa Cruz) seriously settled island, with the sleepy town of Puerto Bacquerizo Moreno the administrative centre for the whole archipelago. San Cristóbal is the only island with its own source of fresh water - a lake in the caldera of an extinct volcano - and it is here that the inland greenery seems at its most lush. The interior is also said the best place to spot giant tortoises in the 'semi-wild' (whatever that may mean), though on the day on which we went to do so the road was closed.
* Wildlife *
The wildlife is, of course, the great feature that attracts visitors to the islands. If you are a dedicated naturalist, there is much that must be fascinating. As is well known, it was here that Charles Darwin first observed how the divergent features of different species on the different islands could best be explained as their responses to the challenges of their environments, an observation from which he later developed his theory of evolution.
Other biologists have followed. There is, I understand, a British couple who have spent 38 years on the islands documenting the local finches, proving in the process that there are now 18 species rather than the 13 originally identified. Others study tortoises or iguanas equally assiduously.
As a lay visitor with only a passing interest in zoology, though, let me sound a note of caution to my fellow amateurs. I couldn't spot the fine distinctions, and, to be honest, I didn't really care. I liked the sea lions and some of the sea-birds: pelicans, penguins, albatrosses and blue-footed boobies. It is splendid to go ashore and see all these at close quarters without their running scared; they have evolved here without fear of humans. It was impressive too to see the boobies, seemingly clumsy on land, become streamlined in flight and plummet like stukas out of the sky when they spot fish beneath the waves. I was pleased to have seen a whale - albeit in the distance - and the occasional dolphins and turtles.
But I didn't much like the giant tortoises - ugly, lumbering things, however extraordinary they might be. And as for the iguanas, land and sea alike, I found them repugnant and grotesque. Of course, you might not share my prejudices, but my point is this: that unless you have a consuming interest in such matters, the fine points of the local wildlife may be lost on you and consequently it will prove less of a highlight than you may have hoped.
* Scenery, vegetation and climate *
The scenery of the Galápagos is dramatic in places, rather dull in others. For tropical islands, they are rarely pretty; the archetypical palm-fringed beach with verdant hinterland is not found here. The most dramatic landscapes are the rawest and most rugged - the bare volcanic islands in the west. Even on the longest-established, most easterly islands, though, the vegetation seemed to me a little drab. My wife, usually a keen plantsperson, failed to get much excited by the local plant life, in marked contrast to what we had seen in the Andes. Some wild strelitzas and brugmansias inland caught her eye, but mostly she was unmoved by the sparse grey saltbush growth at the ocean's margins, however interesting it might be to professional botanists.
This may partly have been bad timing on our part. We were there in October, in the midst of the garũa season - cold by local standards (average 20°C) and predominantly dry, the main moisture being provided by the resultant sea-mists (garũas). The days were often grey and overcast. The rainy season, January-May, would have been wetter, but warmer and greener too.
Do not rely too much on this seasonal pattern in planning a visit, though. Once or twice a decade, at entirely unpredictable intervals, the local weather goes haywire in a natural, but little understood, cycle known as 'El Niño'. The cold Humboldt Current that usually sweeps up the Pacific Coast of South America from Antarctica goes into reverse, rainfall increases but the fish stocks dwindle. Wildlife suffers badly. This is not the time to visit, if you can avoid it.
* Conservation *
Depending on how much of a perfectionist you are by nature, you might regard the conservationist efforts of the Ecuadorian government in the Galápagos either as exemplary, or as too little too late.
Certainly a lot of damage had already been done before it occurred to anyone that nature might be worth conserving. Pirates and buccaneers used the islands as a base from as early as the 17th century, depleting the stocks of turtles in the process. Whalers followed. Later settlements - agricultural, penal, and utopian - all had an impact on the habitat and released alien species into the wild. The resultant feral cats and dogs, as well as horses, pigs, goats and rats, continue to distort the natural evolution of wildlife on the islands today, despite strenuous efforts to cull them.
The conservation movement began in earnest in the 1930s and in 1959 the national park was established. This now encompasses 97% of the surface area of the islands, and although there is some friction between the rules of the National Park Service and the economic ambitions of the local inhabitants, especially the fishermen, in general conservation is in the ascendancy.
As applied to tourists, the rules are strict and strictly enforced. There are very few places where one can go ashore, and tightly restricted areas within which one can walk having done so - both only in the company of a licensed guide. No food can be carried with you and nothing brought away. 'Take only photographs, leave only footprints' in fact - and you should be careful exactly where you leave the footprints.
In principle, I applaud the objectives enshrined in these rules. I understand perfectly why the Ecuadorian authorities feel they have to treat so fragile an environment so gingerly. Nevertheless, it has to be said that, for the visitor, the restrictions do detract from the experience. Not that I would want to drop litter or steal rare birds' eggs. But I would have liked to strike off at my own speed, following my nose and instincts towards what seemed interesting, or even to hike across the wild landscapes seeking solitude, rather than to stick to the well-worn trail within a few hundred yards of the landing-stage, proceeding at the pace of the slowest and being lectured all the while by guides, however informative they might be.
* Museums and visitor centres *
The Galápagos are to all intents and purposes an open air museum. Since most tourists arrive having read about them in advance, and all are escorted by expert guides, further explanation may seem superfluous. However, there are a couple of visitor centres worth mentioning:
~ The National Park 'Interpretation Centre' on San Cristóbal, which expounds the history and natural history of the archipelago. This is interesting enough, but as a museum it seems left over from a previous era - depending on densely written display boards rather than on real specimens and artefacts or on audio-visual displays.
~ The Charles Darwin Research Station at Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz, which is mainly a centre for the study and breeding of the different types of giant tortoise. Its most notable inmate is 'Lonesome George', the only known living example of the Pinta Island subspecies and likely to be the last, but there are also many specimens of other species on display.
* Diving and snorkelling *
For serious scuba-divers, the Galápagos are said to offer excellent opportunities to see underwater life you will not find elsewhere, and there are boats that specialise in visiting the best places for this purpose. Most of the cruises, though, are more focussed on onshore wildlife, with a bit of snorkelling available as an extra.
The water is generally chilly enough to make wetsuits desirable, except in El Niño years, which tend to be inconveniently bad for sea life. My wife, a keener swimmer than I am, went snorkelling a few times and found it worthwhile mainly for the interaction with playful sea lions, but said the water was too cold and murky for it to be a really rewarding experience - compared, for example, with Fiji or the Caribbean.
* Human settlements *
There are only two towns of any substance on the Galápagos - Puerto Ayora and Puerto Bacquerizo Moreno. Both have hotels, though neither would appear to have much appeal as resort in its own right, only as a jumping off spot to tour the islands. Apart from the two research/visitor centres mentioned above, there is little in the way of tourist attractions, and nothing of architectural or historic interest.
Puerto Ayora is the larger of the two (with a population of around 12,000) and the more animated, with plenty of cafés, restaurants and souvenir shops, as well as a lively little open air fish market under constant siege from sea lions and pelicans scavenging for scraps and offcuts. Puerto Bacquerizo Moreno seemed almost asleep on the day we walked round it, with just a few men out repairing beached fishing boats beside the harbour.
* How to get there, and cost *
The Galápagos Islands are not a cheap holiday destination - not even if you just wanted to go and lounge around Puerto Ayora for a few days, which would be a waste of a few days in any case. Apart from the cost of the flights from Quito or Guayaquil, which are in heavy demand (not to mention the flights to Ecuador in the first place), there is $100 entry fee to the National Park, payable in cash on landing. For even the most basic cruise around the islands, booked locally - which may be cheaper than booking in advance but may also be of uncertain quality and availability - you won't see much change from $1000. The shortest cruises last three/four days, but don't encompass the full range of islands; the seven/eight day versions are much better.
Less nerve-wracking and more reliable is to book a complete package of flights, stopover hotels and seven/eight day cruise before leaving the UK, in which case you won't see much change from £2000. You can make this a bit less alarming (or a bit more, depending how you look at it) by combining a Galápagos visit with seeing some of the other sights in the region, as we did with the Inca relics of Andes, and thereby spreading the cost of the flights to South America over two destinations.
* Conclusion and recommendation *
Many visitors describe seeing the Galápagos as a wonderful experience, and given how few are able to go there at all, I feel a bit guilty in failing fully to share their enthusiasm. The archipelago is certainly remarkable and its wildlife extraordinary. The world would be better off with more such places. But remarkable and extraordinary do not always equate to attractive and enjoyable.
As a non-specialist, there was a limit to how enthralled I found myself. Nature-watching was sometimes fun, but sometimes left me as incongruously cold as the frigid Humboldt Current in equatorial seas. I was conscious that I ought to be excited by what I was seeing, but somehow often I was not, and I resented the sense of obligation.
Just one or two highlights stand out: watching a mother sea lion teach her cub to come ashore in heavy seas, dragging it repeatedly by the scruff of the neck away from the higher, rougher rocks towards an easier landing; a male booby displaying the blueness of his feet as he performed a ritual mating-dance for the benefit of a female outside his prospective nest, while she looked on with real or feigned indifference. Memorable stuff, but hardly an overwhelming return on a full week invested in observing wildlife.
In any case, what you are allowed to see and do is very circumscribed. Here is nature in the wild, but you can only observe it in the tamest of way, in tightly controlled groups and tightly controlled areas. Understanding the reasons, I don't say this by way of complaint, but by way of warning to prospective visitors. Don't expect to be able to wander freely and see things in your own time and your own way.
