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Ten Days in the Amazon on a Budget: Part 1

Part of the reason I chose to do an extended trip through South America was because I couldn’t choose where to visit first on a short vacation: Machu Picchu, Rio de Janeiro, Patagonia, or the Amazon. So naturally, I decided to do them all, plus a bunch of other awesome things in between.

As part of my budget adventure, I planned on taking the three-night slow boat through the Amazon from Leticia, Colombia to Manaus, Brazil because this would only cost me $75 with all meals included, as opposed to the $700+ to fly internationally from Colombia to Brazil (more on this coming soon, stay tuned!). So naturally, it made sense to fit my Amazon experience in during my time in Leticia or Manaus.

(Aside from the cost breakdown at the end, this post is all about the two-day tour I took from Leticia. More info about the other seven days in Leticia, Manaus, and the three-night boat journey coming soon.)

My initial search for Amazon tours brought up a ton of options from Manaus. But they also seemed a bit expensive, and seeing as Manaus is a city of nearly two million, I thought it might be an odd place to go off the grid and spend some time in the secluded depths of the Amazon. Luckily when I arrived in the small tri-border town of Leticia, I met three other solo travelers who wanted to do a tour from there. Since there were four of us it ended up being about 1/3 the price that I was budgeting for one from Manaus, at 240,000 COP (roughly $100 USD). Sold.

We chose the two-day, one-night Javari tour from La Jaganga Hostel, and it was everything I wanted in a quick trip to the rainforest. We considered the three-day, two-night trip, but it really didn’t seem to offer many more activities than the two-day.

The trip took us on the Javari River which separates Peru and Brazil. The idea of an organized Amazon tour was really off-putting to me at first, but it’s pretty much the only option unless you want to end up lost in the Amazon by yourself. Luckily, this didn’t feel like a tour at all. Instead it was just us four and our guide, Francisco, and it felt like we were hanging out with a friend who was just showing us around. We didn’t see another tourist until we were heading back to Leticia on day two.

Francisco
The man, Francisco, and his machete after chopping down some tree branches that once stood in our way

Here’s how our two days went:

DAY 1

We left the hostel around 8:30am in a ten-minute taxi ride to the port across the border in Tabatinga, Brazil, where we met with Francisco. With his round belly and beaming, gummy smile, we all instantly loved him. The five of us jumped in the wooden, canopied boat as Francisco turned in three different directions, pointing out Peru, Brazil, and Colombia. After crossing over to Peru for a quick, yet crucial beer run, we took a leisurely boat ride alongside pink and grey dolphins, brown water, and lush green trees.

Amazon Crew
L to R: Max the German, Josh the Aussie, Francisco the Colombian guide, and Susannah the Colombian

Canoeing through the Amazon

The perfect companion for an Amazon boat ride: rum

About three hours into the ride, we passed a house and waved at the kids as we zoomed past. Next thing we knew, Francisco was turning the boat around to take us for a visit. We climbed the stairs to the wide-open room that hovered over the water on stilts. The family of about nine kids and four adults sat inside, grating and cooking yucca, and spoke Portuguese despite being on the Peruvian side. The kids were in charge of peeling and cutting up the yucca before handing it off to the women to press through a machine and then grating it by hand. Then the man cooked it in a giant pan over a fire, and us gringos ate it by the handful. 

House on the Amazon

Making grated yucca

Cooking the yucca

After our afternoon snack, we continued down the river to another house which was one of only a couple that we passed during the whole 3-4 hour boat ride. Like the last, this house was also on stilts. Since it’s rainy season and the forest is flooded we weren’t able to find dry land to hang up the hammocks, so we stayed the night in this house. It was basically two separate “houses” joined by a short outdoor walkway. One was a fantastic, huge kitchen complete with hammocks, a portable cooktop, a wooden table and bench seats. The other was two stories high, and the main sleeping quarters. The top floor appeared to be for the family, and us guests were split up into rooms: boys in one, girls in the other. Each room had two mosquito-net covered beds and mesh windows that looked right out at the river. The three bathrooms each had a refreshing shower that used rainwater from a tub on the roof, and for the most part you felt like you were showering outside. Quite honestly, it was kind of like a wilderness dream house.

An inside shot of the main sleeping area of the house we stayed in. The downstairs had several different rooms and three bathrooms which you can see into there in the back.

My bed

The kitchen
The ginormous kitchen and baby Victoria who was very curious about my camera

Kitchen

View from the front door of the house. The room in the back is the kitchen area.
Neighbors
I think the family owned this house too, right next door

I unloaded my bag in the room and went for a quick swim because I couldn’t resist playing with the most adorable puppy ever who was climbing on some scraps of wood in front of the house. The water was only about thigh-high, a further reminder that the flooded area around the house is actually dry land during the dry season. Totally unimaginable.

Puppy
Baby puppy! The family pet was walking around on some floating boards trying to figure out how to get back up to the house. I just HAD to jump in the water and play with him!

The family prepared us food which was surprisingly phenomenal. I thought it would be a lot of bland rice and beans like most tours, but again, this was nothing like a normal tour. We had yucca, potatoes and beans, lentils, arepas, pork chops, eggs, fish, piranha, pasta, cucumber and onion salad, carambola juice, camu camu juice, spaghetti, and a few other things I didn’t really recognize but loved the taste. It was like eating at an old friend’s mom’s house; they fed us well and there was a ton food every time we sat down.

Dinner plate #1

Dinner plate #2

The family was so friendly. Apparently they live in town, but they built this house as their kind of getaway house, and to host tourists for an extra income. My only regret is that I didn’t speak more Spanish or Portuguese so that I could’ve conversed with them more like the two in our group who were fluent in Spanish.

After we ate, we set out on the boat again to visit a wildlife conservation area, which looked just like another house on stilts in the middle of the rainforest. When we pulled up in the boat two monkeys immediately ran aboard, climbing on our heads, curling up in our laps, and almost instantly finding and devouring the bag of camu camu berries we’d just picked. The whole time we wandered the property, the monkeys followed us around curiously, hanging from the trees while snacking on fruit and watching our every move.

Pepe, the rambunctious monkey

Monkey Business

Monkey
My flash accidentally went off (seriously, I never use a flash) and this monkey jumped and ran after me while screaming. Scariest moment in the Amazon so far.

Then we got the chance to play with an anaconda that was contained in a wooden shack. Snakes don’t scare me, so I wasn’t so much worried about it biting or choking me as I was about not being strong enough to lift it or take it off without dropping it to the ground and pissing it off. Turns out, with a little help, it wasn’t as heavy as I’d thought and I managed to get a photo with it.

Anaconda
Nevermind the snake, look at this guy’s adorable smile.
Prehistoric Turtle
I think this was called a Mata Mata Turtle, some sort of prehistoric turtle that’s only found in the Amazon region

En español, we learned a bit about the gigantic nearly-extinct arapaima fish and some pretty awesome looking turtles, when suddenly we heard this loud, barreling train-like noise, and looked over to see a wall of rain pouring down about a half mile away and a rainbow forming right in front of us. With my camera and lenses in my hand, two of us sought shelter under the house along with a dog and her pups, a few chickens, and a little girl, while everyone else went up into the house. 

Rainbow

After the brief rainstorm, the sky cleared and we headed to a lagoon to watch the sun set while pink dolphins swam around us. It was definitely one of those “holy shit I’m in the Amazon Rainforest” moments, where my dreams as a third grader were finally fulfilled. Now if only I could figure out a way to see dinosaurs and make it to outer space, third grade Kim would be so jealous.

Amazon Sunset

Sunset on the Amazon

We went back to a delicious candlelight dinner when I realized, and revealed, that this was my first candlelight dinner ever. I think everyone laughed at me. Afterwards, Max and I headed out on a canoe to search for some of the nocturnal animals of the Amazon with the neighbor. This guy had a flashlight that could easily illuminate trees fifty feet away as he searched for the different creatures of the night. It was all kinds of awesome just paddling around this wide open lagoon under the light from a nearly full moon and hundreds of stars. We floated around to the choir of jungle animals as our guide pointed out the different sounds of monkeys, tree rats, frogs, and other Amazonian creatures.

Every so often he’d spot a pair of red eyes and paddle closer. Before I knew it he was pulling small caimans into the boat, letting us hold them before throwing them back in the water. They seemed to freeze up as soon as you touched them, and when we threw them back in the water they swayed their body back and forth like they were still in shock before disappearing.

We also saw a snake swimming through the water, a wide-eyed owl perched on a branch only a few feet away, a tarantula clinging to the side of a tree, and I nearly bashed my face into a bat that was hanging on the side of a branch before it got startled and flew away. It was a truly amazing experience that I couldn’t believe the other two had missed out on by going to bed early.

When we got back, Francisco was partying down with some cachaça caipirinhas he’d mixed up. I tried one but it was a bit too sweet for me, and since I was the only non-Spanish speaker still in the room, I got ready for bed and retired for the night by 10pm.

DAY 2

It started getting light out at the absurd hour of 430AM and the family started stirring about just as early. I looked out the window to see grey skies and decided there wouldn’t be a great sunrise so I went back to sleep.

At a slightly more reasonable hour (about 7AM) I finally got up and showered. After another delicious breakfast, we set out in a canoe to go piranha fishing, which was probably the most hilarious experience of the entire two days. Five of us piled into what probably should’ve been a three-person canoe, without life jackets, and set out again with the neighbor guy. The water was about an inch from spilling into the boat and flooding us out, as we cautiously turned our way into the jungle. Every slight move tipped us to the side as I regretted bringing my SLR on board, so I shoved it in my waterproof bag for safe keeping. After about a half hour we ended up in a pretty strong current, which had us bashing into branches, careening straight for a tree. Josh, the Aussie in our group who was paddling in the front, looked for direction on which way to go but the tide carried us much quicker than the guide could direct us. We crashed right into the tree as Josh calmly stood up, quietly mumbled some profanities, and jumped into the water without even rocking the boat. I knew something had happened, but the slow rate at which he calculated his next move and jumped out without capsizing us was rather impressive. Just as quickly, I realized that he’d just ran right into a swarm of wasps when I saw at least a hundred of them flying around a grey nest. Both Josh and the paddle were being pushed downstream with the current and we kind of just sat there watching as the guide backed us up away from the wasps. Josh eventually climbed back on board with stings all over his face and neck, and I held off on making fun of him until later in the evening.

About an hour and a half after setting out, we dropped our poles (sticks with fishing line and a hook tied on, baited with fish) into the water right in the middle of some shrubbery. Almost immediately I could feel the piranhas biting, but the first few times I pulled the hook up those bitches robbed me of my bait. 

Now you should know that I’m a fairly poor sport. I’m fiercely competitive when it comes to dumb shit. I learned early on that I suck at sports and it’s a waste of energy to get pissed because I suck at soccer, basketball, kickball, running, etc. I just do what I can and have fun. But when it comes to things like bowling, beer pong, Mario Kart, tejo, and apparently fishing, I get livid when things don’t go my way. I focus intently and the only words to leave my mouth are usually curse words. So you can imagine the scene as we all sat quietly in a canoe while the piranhas stole my limited bait right off my hook.

Then the guide caught one.

Then Josh caught one.

Then I got pissed. 

Using that anger, on the next nibble I yanked the hook right from the water and voila—a piranha! I shouted a few obscenities, took some pictures, and to add insult to injury to the piranha, the bait was still in tact when we took it off the hook. I dropped the line back down into the water and felt another bite. Again, I pulled a second piranha up less than 20 seconds later, with the same piece of bait. Talk about killing two fish with one piece of bait, suckersss! 

Lunch! My first piranha catch

 

I was on a roll. At this point, Josh had also caught two and stopped for a smoke, Susannah had given up a long time ago, and I put another piece of bait on my hook. We only had a couple of pieces of bait left, and after my adrenaline wore off I realized what a dick I was for baiting up again when Max had yet to catch a fish and was still trying. After another piranha robbed me of that piece, I reluctantly put the pole down and decided to chill out and let Max try to wrangle one in with the last pieces of bait. He didn’t, by the way.

The ride back to the house wasn’t nearly as dramatic as the ride in, as the guide took the helm and guided us through a calmer area full of giant Amazon water lilies. We returned for our last delicious lunch which also included the freshly prepared piranha. They don’t have much meat on their bones, but piranha meat is delicious. It’s not fishy at all, just super juicy and tender.

Amazon Water Lilies
The giant Amazon water lilies are lined with spikes underneath to ward off predators, and can support around 20kg, if not more
Fish lunch
I took this pic through the green mesh screen of the girls preparing our fish right in the river. If I spoke their language I would’ve offered to help.
Sorry not sorry, piranhas. Thanks for being delicious.

Around 2pm we packed up and left the house for another leisurely ride back to Leticia. We saw toucans and tons of other colorful birds flying in the sky, sloths slowly climbing amongst the leaves, huge towering ceiba kapok trees, and all in all completely different scenery as we cut through the jungle.

I don’t really know what’s going on here, but we were trying to take an interesting selfie.

We made it back to Leticia around sunset, as James Blunt’s “You’re Beautiful” BLARED from the Peruvian border. Definitely a weird choice considering how little English music I’ve heard down here, but it gave us a good laugh.

Should you do it?

Duh, that goes without saying. Visiting the Amazon was one of the coolest experiences I’ve had so far, and I barely scratched the surface. It was a fantastic two days and I really think we saw and did a lot. If you do the same tour during the dry season you’ll probably have more options to hike through the rainforest, sleep in hammocks outdoors, and possibly see even more wildlife. But we definitely got to see much more than I thought we would, and I can’t recommend this experience enough. I would love to go back during the dry season and do a longer trip, but come on, $100 for two days of transportation, food, lodging, and activities? Totally worth it. It’s worth noting that the more people you have, the cheaper it is. And if you need a translator you will pay even more, so it helps to have at least one person in your group be fluent in both Spanish and your native language.

Pricing breakdown for ten days in the Amazon region:
Flight from Bogotá to Leticia: $112 (though one guy I met said he booked one for $40, I have no idea how)
Three nights at La Jangada Hostel in Leticia: $30
Two-day, one-night tour: $100
Three-night boat from Leticia to Manaus: $75 (more on this adventure coming soon!)
Two nights in Manaus: $21 (I redeemed hotel points for a free stay, just had to pay taxes. But you can find a hostel for just as cheap.)

Grand total: $338, averaging about $33.80 per day, plus a little extra for food in Leticia and Manaus.

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Adventure Guide Money Saving Tips Outdoor Scuba Diving Solo Travel South America Unesco World Heritage Sites Wildlife

Galápagos Islands Travel Guide & Money Saving Tips

The Galápagos. A cluster of volcanic islands, teeming with rare, exotic wildlife, rising out of the Pacific Ocean some six-hundred miles off of mainland Ecuador. Sounds like an expensive trip, doesn’t it? Sure, it can be. But it doesn’t have to be.

Don’t get me wrong, the Galápagos aren’t exactly a backpacker destination. The costs of getting there alone will run you at least $500—including a ~$400 flight from Quito or Guayaquil, the $100 park entry fee, and the $10 transit control card. (Word of advice: do NOT lose that card, or you may end up missing your flight home if no one is around to sell you a new one upon departure.)

But really, once you get to the islands you can spend as little or as much as you want and still have an awesome time. So if you’re considering a trip to the Galápagos, or even just looking for a unique beach vacation, hopefully this guide will help you determine whether or not the Galápagos Islands could be in your near future.

 

Tourists in a water taxi in Puerto Ayora
Tourists in a water taxi in Puerto Ayora

 

All about the Galápagos Islands…aka the stuff you can easily find on Wikipedia.

The Galápagos are a National Park and UNESCO World Heritage Site, so much of the land and surrounding marine area is carefully monitored and preserved by park authorities. The archipelago is made up of about 13-18 main islands and a few smaller ones (everyone will tell you a different number). Of those, only four or five are inhabited, and the rest you need to be with a tour guide to access.

The population is roughly 25,000, with about half of those people living in Santa Cruz. I showed up expecting an untouched, desolate paradise with like a 100:1 sea lion to human ratio, so I was definitely surprised to see the town of Puerto Ayora full of bars, souvenir shops, restaurants, cars, and people.

You can easily research the different islands to find out which are best for your visit, but here are a few notes I took on the ones that stood out to me:

Bartolomé uninhabited island with the breathtakingly scenic Pinnacle rock, and an awesome lava flow that spills right onto a white, sandy, deserted beach.

Española- I didn’t visit but since it’s the oldest island, it sounds like a kickass wildlife spot with tons of endemic species. It’s also the furthest South so unfortunately it’s not an option to visit on a day trip, only on a cruise, which we’ll jump into more in a minute.

Fernandina- basically an active volcanic island covered in old black lava flows. I got excited thinking I’d be able to see active lava flows, but after reading that tours don’t take you anywhere near the crater, I chose not to go.

Floreana- most people I spoke with liked Floreana, but I thought it was worth skipping. We saw some tortoises, did a small hike, visited a painfully rocky black lava rock beach with cloudy snorkeling due to the current, and of course stopped by Post Office Bay. Nothing special.

Isabela- my favorite Island that I visited, and not just because it’s shaped like a seahorse. There are volcanoes to hike, flamingos to see, and penguins and sea lions to swim with. Population is about 2,000 people, and the largest town of Puerto Villamil has dirt roads, no ATMs, and is super chill. I just wouldn’t recommend diving here because there’s only one dive shop on the island and they’re not exactly the most reputable bunch.

North Seymore Island- an easy day trip from Puerto Ayora and a good spot for beginner divers.

Rabida- red beaches. Enough said.

 

The #1 way to save money

The biggest way to save money in the Galápagos is to stay on land. It’s what I did and it’s the only way I can recommend making a trip to the Galápagos affordable (unless of course you have your own sailboat and you’re sailing down there and living aboard your own boat for free).

When most people talk about dropping thousands to visit the islands, that’s because they’re taking a cruise. These small boats of roughly 20 or so people set you up with a tour guide and tout you around to a new island each day. If you book in advance it looks like you’ll spend at least a grand—all food and excursions included—but you can also get some pretty good deals if you book last minute from the islands (not sure if I’d risk taking that chance during high season though). A lot of people aren’t even aware that you can stay on land too, for as low as $15/night in Puerto Ayora (the main town of the Galápagos), and take much cheaper day trips out to visit a number of islands.

The only downside I could see to staying on land is that you won’t be able to visit some of the islands that are much further out. But there’s so much to do and see on those nearby islands, you can easily fill up a ten-day trip without missing a thing.

 

Tell me more about these day trips

Most island day trips head out of Puerto Ayora, on Santa Cruz and will run about $60-$110 depending on the island, usually with lunch included. Walk along Avenida Charles Darwin and you’ll be able to book whatever trips you want from a number of vendors.

I would suggest figuring out which spots are must-sees for you, then choose a good base island or two. For example, I stayed in Puerto Ayora for five nights and took day trips out to Floreana and Bartolomé, while also spending some time exploring the island and beaches by bike and foot. Then I took the $40 water taxi to spend my last four nights on Isabela, where I walked out to the Flamingo Lagoon to see pink flamingos for free, went on a 6-hour hike up to Sierra Negra and Volcán Chico for only $35 (including lunch), and dropped $75 to go snorkeling at Los Tuneles. Sounds like a lot for a snorkeling trip, but this was a guided tour snorkeling through old lava tubes, coming across caves of sharks and manta rays, seahorses, and swimming with baby sea lions. Worth it.

All in all I spent around $300 on at least five days worth of trips and was busy every single day.

Diving is another popular activity, but just like anywhere else it’s not cheap. There are tons of dive shops in Puerto Ayora that’ll likely run you around $110-$175 for a two-dive trip along with some food and underwater photos. But when you’re 40 feet down swimming alongside hammerhead sharks, it’s obviously worth it. Even if you start puking like I did.

Bartolome
Bartolome
Black rock beach on Floreana
A gorgeous but painful beach on Floreana
Scuba diving with manta rays off Turtle Island
Scuba diving with manta rays off Turtle Island

 

Where should I stay?

Like I’ve mentioned a few times already, Puerto Ayora on Santa Cruz is a good place to start because it’s basically the main hub of the islands. There are a bunch of hotel options including backpacker friendly hostels for less than $15/night, more private hotels and b&b’s for around $50, and a few fancy way-out-of-my-budget places that I think were around a couple hundred a night. But with so much hustle and bustle, I wouldn’t recommend staying too long or you might start to forget you’re in the Galápagos. There are also a couple of desolate high-end resorts up in the highlands that are pretty far from the coast, and I’d imagine quite expensive.

Puerto Villamil on Isabela is another great town, and one of my favorite places I’ve ever been to. I stayed at Caleta Iguana in the $70/night private room with a private bath, which included a delicious homemade breakfast every morning. It’s right on the beach, and has the most happening happy hour in town. Every evening people come from all over the town to have a few drinks, walk across the tightrope, party around the fire, listen to music, sway in the hammocks, and watch the sun set.

 

Sounds awesome. So how do I get there?

For some reason a lot of people ask me this, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from giving some smartass remark about a booking site and an airplane.

Flights travel from mainland Ecuador either through Quito or Guayaquil, and take about 2-3 hours depending on which city.

There are two airports in the Galápagos, one on Baltra and one on San Cristóbal. Most people (including me) fly into Baltra, which is a tiny island just north of Santa Cruz that basically looks like Mars. After landing you’ll jump on an airport bus which will take you to the docks for free. From there you’ll cram into a water ferry, which is actually like an oversized canoe that will leave you questioning exactly how buoyancy works with that many tourists. As it chugs against the surprisingly strong current, the reality is that you could probably toss a football over to Santa Cruz so it’s a fairly quick transfer for $0.80. Once you’re on Santa Cruz you can catch a bus through the highlands, all the way to the other end of the island to Puerto Ayora. It takes about an hour and only costs about $1.50, but they cram the shit out of the bus. I enjoyed the bumpy ride while crammed between seats on the plastic astroturf-like floor.

Sweating on the bus
Sweating on the bus

 

I can’t tell you much about arriving in San Cristóbal, as I didn’t get the chance to visit. But I do know it’s the easternmost island with a population of about 6,000 people, and I’m told you can sunbathe alongside sea lions if you visit the beach.

Either way, transportation between the islands will run you roughly $40 for a ferry ride, and take about 2-3 hours, so limit and plan your transfers wisely.

 

What are some free/cheap things I can do while on land?

You’ll need a tour guide to access many places, but there are still a ton of free things you can do that are just as cool.

Santa Cruz


– Explore the Darwin Research Center and visit the giant tortoise and iguana breeding center.

– Walk to Tortuga Bay. Once you reach the entry point just outside of town, locals will tell you it’s about a 20 minute walk. Bullshit. I didn’t have a watch or phone on me but it’s definitely closer to 45+ minutes. Despite the heat and humidity it’s an easy walk, but once you emerge from the partially tree-covered pathway, you’ll see a long white stretch of gorgeous, untouched natural beach with perfectly blue and white waves breaking at the shoreline. This area’s a bit too choppy to swim but there will likely be a few surfers in the water along with some sharks flapping about in with the waves. Walk another 15 minutes or so to the end of the beach and you’ll come across the swimming bay which is much calmer, and probably at least a little crowded with locals. You can even pay a few bucks and take a kayak out to explore on your own.

– I didn’t make it up there, but if you’re all about seeing some giant, old ass tortoises in their natural habitat, head up to the highlands and explore El Chato Tortoise Reserve.

– Cliff diving at Las Grietas. Intrigued? It costs like 50 cents for a 15 minute water taxi ride from the Puerto Ayora docks, and a short hike until you’re there. It’s basically a crevice between two cliffs where salt and fresh water meet, and the lack of a current makes it a popular spot to swim and take daring jumps.

– Grab a bike and explore the city. I hopped on a mountain bike and went as far as I could before the hill started to get to be too much for my lazy ass. I rode around the back streets and explored the neighborhoods and it was definitely a day well spent for only a few dollars.

 

Old tortoise
Old ass tortoise
Tortuga Bay
Tortuga Bay
Biking the streets of Puerto Ayora
Biking the streets of Puerto Ayora
Exploring the streets of Puerto Ayora
Exploring the streets of Puerto Ayora

 

Puerto Villamil, Isla Isabela

Isabela is an incredibly behind-the-times island with painfully slow internet, which was absolutely perfect.
 It’s really easy to spend mornings exploring and afternoons napping on the beach without a worry in the world.

– Hike Volcán Chico/Sierra Negra. The guided volcano hike is only $35 with lunch, and in my opinion totally worth it. Not so much worth it if you just hike up to Sierra Negra, but definitely so if you continue on to Volcán Chico. Here’s more in-depth info about what to expect on that hike.

– Walk up to the Flamingo Lagoon. There’s a manmade lagoon where flamingos tend to hang out. A pickup truck taxi will charge $10 to take you there, but you can easily walk or bike there for free. Follow the main road that runs along the water (I didn’t see a name because it’s a dirt road and I really don’t think there even was a name). Pass Caleta Iguana, the hot pink beachfront hostel on the left, and the Booby Trap cafe/restaurant on your right, and turn right up the dirt road. You’ll pass La Jungla hostel and a soccer field along the way, but keep walking. Locals will tell you you’re super close, but it took me about 20-25 minutes to get there. Eventually you’ll come to the Tortoise Breeding Center, and finally the lagoon.

– 
Walk on the beach. There are Galápagos penguins and gorgeous sunsets right there, so really there’s no reason to leave.

– Go down to the happy hour at Caleta Iguana, the Westernmost hostel/hotel on the beach, and hang out for some drinks and watch the sunset.

 

Pink flamingos on Isla Isabela
Pink flamingos on Isla Isabela
Hiking Volcan Chico
Hiking Volcan Chico
Caleta Iguana on Isla Isabela
Caleta Iguana on Isla Isabela
Pausing for a selfie at Los Tuneles
Pausing for a selfie at Los Tuneles
Sharks at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sharks at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sea turtles at Los Tuneles
Swimming with sea turtles at Los Tuneles
Snorkeling with sea lions at Los Tuneles
Swimming with sea lions at Los Tuneles
Isla Isabela
The perfect dirt roads of Isla Isabela
Sunset from Caleta Iguana
Sunset from Caleta Iguana

 

Other helpful things to remember/expect/know

Go during low season
The weather is generally the same year round, but low season is April, May, September and October. I’d suggest going then to avoid the crowds, and you may even save a few bucks on day trips and cruises.

The Galápagos are a tsunami zone
Especially if you don’t know Spanish, at least learn the escape route so when you hear the sirens start waling and see people start running, you know what to do. On Puerto Ayora I learned the hard way that you should head uphill on Av Baltra until you reach Bellavista.

They’re also not necessarily a beach destination
There are quite a few beaches, but they’re not really easy to get to. You generally can’t stay on a resort and walk outside to lay out during the day. In Puerto Ayora, it’ll take an entire day to head to the beach, and on many other islands the beaches are rocky or take a lot of time to get to via boat.

Don’t flush toilet paper
Sure I bitched about this first world problem in London, but being in such a fragile environmentally-friendly ecosystem, I was actually more than willing to comply.

Bring enough cash
Some of the islands don’t have ATMs, and many places don’t accept credit cards. Puerto Ayora was fine—it had at least one ATM and one bank, but Isabela had neither. I was told sometimes tourists withdrawal more money than the ATM has anyway, so sometimes they’re left SOL. To be on the safe side, bring a bit of cash.

USD is the official currency
Despite being a province of Ecuador, the official currency of the Galápagos Islands is actually the US Dollar. So if you’re traveling from the US you don’t have to worry about losing money in exchange rates or frequent trips to the bank.

Bring protection
No not that kind of protection ya pervs. Okay wait actually, yeah you should probably do that too if you plan on getting freaky. But I’m talking sunscreen. Like any island, items are marked up. Like $30 for a small bottle of sunscreen. So bring what you need, the sun is ridiculous down there. I usually don’t wear sunblock on vacations, but the whole trip I was slathered up in SPF 30 every day and still left with an almost-Latin tan. Than being said, I stupidly took a 4oz Neutrogena sunblock and another travel size stick with me and had to buy more halfway through my trip. Bye bye money.

Walk an extra few blocks for food
If you visit any of the restaurants along Avenida Charles Darwin in Puerto Ayora, you can expect to pay tourist prices. I’m used to New York prices, so $9 for a beer, a cheese sandwich, and an order of fried plantains and queso was a steal. But if you walk the extra five minutes up a couple of blocks to Bordados El Alquimista, you’ll find a road full of outdoor-seating restaurants serving up super cheap traditional Ecuadorian food and $1 beers.

There’s also an amazing little shack/bar on the playground right near the docks. Almost every night I went down and had an empanada and a large, probably 40 oz Pilsener for $4.50. Other tourists told me I was getting ripped off and could’ve gotten the same snack for about $2.50 elsewhere, but I couldn’t help it. It was awesome to sit amongst locals and try to improve my Spanish right in the center of all the port action.

Bring seasickness medicine
If you think there’s the slightest chance that you might get seasick, bring some pills. You’ll likely spend a lot of time on boats down there so it’s better to be prepared than barfing your lunch out over the side of the boat for two hours. The islands aren’t close together, so it’s common to spend 2-3 hours seeing nothing but the huge, rolling waves of the Pacific on every horizon. And those waves are not small.

Bring a water bottle

The Galápagos are hot and you’re going to need a lot of water. The locals don’t even drink the tap there, and all of the hotels I visited or researched had a water cooler in the lobby for guests to fill up on. So bring a jug and keep it full. Some places ask for donations, others don’t.

 

Fried plantains and questo and an iced tea
Fried plantains and queso and an iced tea

 

So, should I go?

For better or for worse (i’m really leaning towards worse), the Galápagos are becoming more and more popular as a tourist destination. Despite the efforts to manage tourism so that it doesn’t destroy the ecosystem, the islands are definitely suffering. You see sheets of oil across the water in the ports and litter carelessly washed up on the rocks of shore. And even though most of the islands are still uninhabited, those that are inhabited are encouraging tourism more and more. Isabela for example, is the largest (size-wise) of the islands with a population of only 2,000. At first they shunned tourism and wanted no part in it—until they started seeing the financial benefits. Now there are buildings being constructed all along the beach which actually made me a little angry. I know I know, this makes me a bit of a hypocrite. But it’s a perfect island with dirt roads and no ATMs, where everybody knows each other. Hell by the end of my trip I knew most of the locals. It doesn’t need hoards of tourists moving in, changing the local cultures and environment.

Sometimes making decisions on whether or not to visit certain places that are honestly better left untouched are difficult for us travelers who are always looking for new, unique experiences and connections. So I really think that anyone visiting the Galápagos should make a conscious decision to do so. Don’t go just for the hell of it. Respect the land, the people, and the wildlife. Learn a thing or two, and give back whenever you can. And if you do go, hopefully this guide will help with your beginning steps of planning.

Categories
Adventure Biking New York Outdoor

Biking Through NYC On The Five Boro Bike Tour

This afternoon I completed the Five Boro Bike Tour in NYC. This evening my Jell-o-like limbs are confined to the couch.

The Five Boro Bike Tour is an annual cycling tour of NYC, and it’s the largest recreational cycling event in the US. This year there were 32,000 riders, as they closed off a bike-only route through Manhattan, The Bronx, Queens, Brooklyn, and finally Staten Island, while crossing over five bridges.

I woke up this morning at 545AM and seriously considered staying in bed. After a hot shower to wake me up I layered on my giant diaper (aka biking shorts) and workout clothes. I was still full from last night’s Chipotle burrito, but I forced myself to fuel up with a peanut buttered bagel, a banana, string cheese, and a Sambazon Mocha Java drink. I was ready to do this.

I met the rest of the group I was riding with down at my office before we biked over to Sixth Avenue to join the first group of riders slightly ahead of the starting point. NOTE TO ANYONE THINKING OF DOING THIS RIDE: drop in slightly ahead of the starting point so you don’t have to deal with getting delayed from the massive hoards of people backed up for blocks.

We made our way up a car-free Sixth Avenue easily. Along the way there were live bands on the sidewalks, and small groups of people either cheering us on or pissed that they couldn’t cross the street. The air was brisk and the sun nonexistent behind thick grey clouds. I didn’t mind the goosebumps on my arms as I passed the first two ad agencies I worked at, the NHL store where I used to work in college, and Radio City where I walked at my graduation. It was kind of like a greatest hits tour for me. Plus it was nice riding on the city streets without the constant horn-honking traffic.

We entered Central Park at 59th Street and got our first taste of uphill riding. It didn’t take very long before we were on 110th moving into Harlem. It was still smooth, effortless sailing and we trekked across our first bridge, the Madison Avenue Bridge. From there the ride only went about two miles in the Bronx before we were crossing back over into Manhattan and onto the FDR, a road I’d so often feared for my life in the back of many, many cars, yet I was now biking in the center lane with no worries at all. The dark tunnel under Gracie Mansion echoed with loud cheers as we entered, and when we finally emerged back into the daylight the daunting Queensboro Bridge (sorry, I refuse to call it the 59th Street Bridge) began to peek out.

I was a little intimidated on the ramp, but I switched gears, stopped talking, and started pedaling. Before I knew it I was past the ramp and only a little sweaty. A few people got off and walked their bikes, but the rest of us pushed on and right over. Just like that, we were in our third borough, Queens.

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Clowning around at the first rest stop in Astoria Park

 

The first rest stop was at around mile 19 in Astoria Park and was basically mandatory, so we dismounted and grabbed a quick snack. By now the wind was really whipping, and I longed for a long-sleeved shirt. We all agreed we were warmer while cycling so we jumped back on and kept going. I had been 100% unfazed by the ride until the moment I got back on my bike and realized my thighs were definitely getting weaker.

After Queens we found ourselves riding through Greenpoint, Brooklyn and eventually Williamsburg along Kent Avenue. This is where the wind really began to pick up, so much that it was bringing my bike to a complete halt as I continued pedaling. This is also where I fell in love with DUMBO and for the first time ever imagined myself living in Brooklyn. I know, I even shocked myself.

Somewhere along the way right before we stopped so I could take a quick pee (which as it turns out I didn’t really have to take, my girly bits were just being fooled by the bike seat) Suzannah thought she’d channel her inner biker and throw some hand signals so those behind her knew to stop—and she wiped out. I felt bad that we didn’t even noticed and continued pedaling on without her, but she gracefully rejoined us with hardly a scratch.

Screen shot 2014-05-04 at 7.44.08 PM
ESB from the BQE

We were about halfway through Brooklyn when I took on the daunting task of simple math, calculating how many more miles until the finish line. The wind was really difficult to pedal against, I was freezing cold, and my lungs hurt from breathing in the cold air. But we kept going, and going, and going, right onto the BQE Expressway. A man at the entrance ramp cheered us on, shouting only “nine more miles to go!” That would’ve been great had most of those nine miles not felt like an onramp.

After I was thoroughly exhausted, tinkering along slowly against the wind, three of us girls who had managed to stick together came to a common realization at the same time. We were all in agreement that we’d be walking over the Verrazano Bridge together.

Screen shot 2014-05-04 at 7.43.46 PM
Riding on the BQE
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I can’t even believe this ad. In what world would a person who’s doing or considering doing drugs turn to rugs instead?
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Thanks MTA

 

Before we got to the Verrazano Bridge there was a tempting drop out point in which a good amount of people were actually taking to be driven over. But we continued onward.

The Verrazano is the massive bridge connecting Brooklyn and Staten Island. Its central span is 4,260 feet long, which is 60 feet longer than the Golden Gate Bridge, giving it the longest bridge span in the Americas. It also has no bike paths, so the only time you can ride across it on a bike is during the Five Boro Bike Tour each year.

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So close, yet still so far away

 

I chugged some water, took some deep breaths, gave myself a little pep talk in my head, and started pushing harder. Now that I was there, I didn’t want to stop and walk. I wanted to power through. As I pedaled my way slowly up the on ramp I looked to see just how far until the middle point where we would begin to descend. It didn’t  seem THAT far. I kept going.

 

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I sure as hell did own this bridge!
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It doesn’t look THAT bad…

One by one people started to jump off their bikes and walk. I kept going. The wind picked up and the impossible climb got even more difficult. By now I’d lost everyone in my group once I watched the last girl dismount her bike.

There were all kinds of motivational quotes on the ground in bright paint, people on loudspeakers giving words of encouragement along the sidelines, and I could hear music up ahead. The higher I got, the more the wind picked up and the more I swerved. I could feel my bike moving perpendicular to the direction I was riding with each gust of wind, skidding me a few inches to the left each time it blew. The incline seemed endless and felt even worse than it looked. I got close enough to hear the song playing at the finish line, Empire State of Mind, and my mind started to reminisce about how far I’ve come living in New York for the past (almost) eight years. (Yes I’m a nerd.)

It only took a few verses and I passed the rather lackluster finish line.

Finally, I’d made it! I was done! Time to throw my bike and my body onto the grass and relax!

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Almost there!
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Finish!

Not really.

I don’t really understand how they determined where to place the finish line, but it was deceiving. I figured it was all downhill from there, but the wind was so strong we were still pedaling at a snail’s pace for another 5-10 minutes or so before reaching the bottom of the bridge.

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For a second I questioned whether or not they put this side here specifically for the bike tour
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View of Manhattan from the Verrazano Bridge

 

We made it to the park at the end where they were holding a festival full of free cheese and chocolate milk, fun music, and pricey food. We only sat down for like two minutes before realizing it was freezing ass cold, and we’d be much happier to just get on the ferry and back to the city ahead of the crowds (since we were still at the front-ish of the pack).

 

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Glory gates
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The whole group reunited at the end
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We stopped on the way to the ferry for a quick shot of lower Manhattan from Staten Island

Well after the finish line and the festival we had to get back on our bikes and ride about another 3 miles to the ferry, complete with a few more hills. By now all of our butts, thighs, wrists, hands, and backs were telling us to take a break.

Luckily they moved us swiftly right onto a ferry and immediately to Manhattan where we arrived near my old apartment on Wall Street. I led the group back to our office to drop off our bikes on my old bicycle route underneath the FDR, when suddenly I felt my back wheel completely drop out. It only took 40+ miles, but I got a flat tire and was riding on the rim. Ironically we were about 25 steps from a bike rental shop, so they let me use their pump after our group’s handheld one failed. Thankfully my tire held the air so I could finish the ride.

SHOULD YOU DO IT?

Yes! It’s so awesome to see the city from a bike in so many areas where they’re usually prohibited! And no, you don’t have to be overly active or in awesome shape to complete it, but it couldn’t hurt. It really wasn’t as brutal as I thought it was going to be, and though I struggled a bit for the last 10 miles or so, I didn’t have to quit.

Just make sure to ride a good bike, wear padded biking shorts, and perhaps most importantly START EARLY. If you’re in the front of the group you’re much, much more likely to have a better time. We only experienced congestion once while merging in Central Park and once at the mandatory rest stop, but the rest of the ride we were comfortably distanced from other riders. I’d heard about other groups being so backed up they had to get off and walk for like an hour. Also remember, it’s not a race so you can stop however often you need to refuel and hydrate along the way.

The ride takes place on the first Sunday in May every year, and tickets go on sale in January so be sure to keep an eye on the site well in advance as they do tend to sell out. I paid $90 for my general registration pass, but I think it was definitely worth it. The ride itself took about four hours for us to complete, including two stops (totaling about 30 minutes), but after the festival and ferry, it took about 5 1/2 hours total.

Oh, and it’s a killer workout.

Categories
Adventure Outdoor Scuba Diving South America Unesco World Heritage Sites Wildlife

Scuba Diving Round 2: Swimming with Hammerheads

I was really looking forward to doing a redemption dive in the Galapagos Islands—just one kickass dive to erase all the bad memories from Florida. But after reading online that the dive sites are best for advanced divers and known for their strong currents, not their water clarity, I wasn’t sure how great it could actually be.

Whatever. I just wanted to dive without emptying my guts into the ocean.

I decided to go with Scuba Iguana based on their reputation (and a solid recommendation from a very attractive Latin diver I’d met). They had one last spot on their dive scheduled for my last day on Santa Cruz, so I paid the $175, signed some paperwork freeing them from any responsibility should I die or get dismembered, got fitted with all of my gear, then went to dinner eagerly anticipating the next morning. My plan was to grab a quick bite then go back to the hotel to hydrate and brush up on my scuba skills before calling it an early night.

An hour later the whole tsunami thing happened and completely destroyed my plans.

I didn’t get back to my hotel until the wee hours of the morning so I started to think diving wouldn’t be the best idea, especially with my nerves still on edge. Plus two divers in the shelter told me that diving the next morning would be a bad idea because there would likely be even stronger currents and lower visibility.

I woke up a couple hours later and tried to call the shop to tell them I wasn’t feeling it that day, secretly hoping it was canceled. I assumed that they would understand since my PADI courses continuously harped on the need to be a responsible diver and not go diving when you’re quite feeling up for it so that you don’t endanger the rest of the group.

Long story short, I couldn’t get through to them until they called me over an hour and a half later, and despite Scuba Iguana’s stellar diving reputation, they didn’t give a fuck about my safety concerns and hesitations. They refused to reimburse me even though it would have been as simple as throwing out the carbon copy of my card they had yet to send off to the bank. So not only did I not go diving, I was out $175.

The next day I was feeling back to my normal self and I was pissed that I’d let fear get the best of me on my last day in Santa Cruz. So I decided to try, try again on Isabela Island. There was only one diving company there and they didn’t have a great reputation. But I had made up my mind, I was not leaving the Galapagos without going diving and $150 later I was signed up for attempt #2.

 

Wall of fish

 

Diving day came and I did everything by the book. I took seasickness pills, ate breakfast, drank a ton of water. I was ready to go. As we sped out to Turtle Island I was actually really excited, and before I could think about it all of us were bobbing around in the choppy water. We didn’t even do any checks to make sure our gear was functioning properly, they just handled it themselves and hurried us into the water.

Just as quickly Harry and the other non-English speaking divemaster were ready to go under. I dumped all the air from my BCD and once my head was under I sank like an anchor. Due to our shitty preparation I think my weight belt was way too heavy because getting neutrally buoyant is actually one thing I’m pretty good at. This time I was all over the place trying not to touch the rock and coral below me. Luckily the sign of struggle is universal, so the divemaster tried to inflate and deflate my BCD with quick bursts, using up tons of oxygen before giving up and grabbing my hand to drag me along. We floated around holding hands for a few minutes before I realized this was the most romance I’ve had in a long time, and naturally after a few minutes I got weirded out and let go.

 

Scuba diving

 

I was using up a ton of oxygen trying to fill my lungs with air as it was the only thing that seemed to keep me slightly above the ocean floor. But I felt great. The vomit-fest of the Florida Keys seemed so far away.

Suddenly everything got really dark like a storm cloud moving in. I looked up to see we were in the shadow of a massive manta ray gliding about ten feet above me. I’ve never seen anything so big, so close in the water. I was half wishing it would swoop down and wrap me up like a pig-in-a-blanket in its massive fins.

 

Manta ray

 

Then it happened, the highlight of my dive. The only thing I really wanted to see while I was underwater. About 15 feet away a hammerhead shark that was at least 9 feet long slowly swam past, not paying any attention to us with its goofy eyes. I’m not particularly scared of sharks, but I wasn’t sure how I’d react to seeing one 40 ft under water, though I definitely wanted to find out. Seconds later three more hammerheads appeared and swam by. Oddly enough it felt just like seeing them in an aquarium. I was simply observing the sharks as they paid no attention to us or anything that swam by. I didn’t feel nervous or scared at all, in fact I felt the urge to swim in front of them and see if they would even notice me head-on.

 

Shark

 

We swam along with tons of crazy-looking fish, reef sharks, starfish, and more unidentifiable creatures. There was something new to see at each turn, which was definitely the selling point to diving in the GalapagosFar too quickly I realized I was already down to 700 PSI in my tank, which was when we were supposed to start heading up. Unfortunately I was the only one even remotely close to going up, so the divemaster motioned for me to head up alone.

 

Sea turtle

Sea turtle

Seahorse

 

If you don’t know much about diving, basically you can’t just pop right up to the surface or you risk decompression sickness, and you can get the bends and/or die (hence the pre-dive paperwork). To stay on the safe side you should ascend slowly, then stop for about 3-5 minutes at around 3 meters/15 feet. Since my depth gauge seemed to be off and I was without a watch, I knew I’d have difficulty determining the right depth & duration for the safety stop. I kept trying to communicate with the divemaster that I didn’t want to go up alone, but it was pretty hard considering you can’t speak under water. And I didn’t want to ruin the dive for the rest of the group so I sucked it up and started up alone.

 

Fish

 

For the first couple seconds I started rising slowly and steadily below my air bubbles. Then out of nowhere I was being pulled up like I was being beamed up by aliens. I tried to slow down but my head was above water in a matter of seconds. Shit.

The surface was choppy, and I started to get dizzy as the boat came to get me. I swam my way against the current towards the boat, which seemed to take about a week and a half. By the time I got there I was exhausted, breathing heavily and my limbs worthless. The crew had me take off my BCD and hand it up to them which was incredibly hard to do. I felt like I was going to pass out. Then they had me take off my fins, but with such little strength left I was worried I wouldn’t be able to stay afloat without them so I latched onto the ladder like a Barrel of Monkeys game piece, my body bashing against it, bruising me with each wave.

I tried to climb the ladder which was even more difficult than all those times I failed trying to climb the knotted rope in gym class. I felt like I weighed 1800 pounds, but with the help of the crew I fell into the boat and made my way to a seat. My head was pounding and I felt dizzy. My stomach started to churn again, just like last time. Except this time I was worried I’d gotten the bends from rising up too quickly. I kept telling myself that I was okay and that I needed to calm down and focus on something other than feeling like shit.

After about 10 minutes the others made their way to the boat as I took a few deep breaths and a few sips of water. The boat crew gave us a snack but I knew that snack was going to turn into fish food if I put it in my mouth.

Everyone suited back up for dive two as I sat staring off in complete silence before deciding to sit it out. My stomach felt the same as it did in Florida, and I knew as soon as I put the regulator in my mouth I would be puking. So I went up to the front of the boat and stared off at the horizon. I made it about ten more minutes before I was bent over the bow, heaving warm bile into the Pacific. Then I wiped my mouth off and posed for this seasick selfie:

 

Seasick selfie

 

I don’t know what it is with diving, but my stomach can’t seem to handle it. I’ve been on countless boats in my lifetime and I spent more than half of my days in the Galapagos on boats, and I’ve never been seasick until after I’ve been diving.

Weird, my stomach can handle Taco Bell’s destructive goodness like nobody should be able to, but I can’t handle a little compressed air.

*All the underwater photos in this post are from a lovely girl named Dorieke, who was kind enough to send them to me since my camera wasn’t waterproof past 43ft. Thanks Dorieke!

Categories
Outdoor Scuba Diving South America Unesco World Heritage Sites Wildlife

6 REASONS TO GO TO THE GALAPAGOS ISLANDS NOW

To say the Galapagos Islands were one of the most surreal, jaw-dropping places I’ve ever been to, leaving me with the urge to abandon everything I’ve ever loved for a simpler life, would be a massive understatement. The 19-island archipelago has a lot to offer in a relatively small-ish space, so even though I only visited five islands during my nine days on land, I didn’t need to waste days traveling in order to see a huge range of landscapes and wildlife.

The Galapagos made the ideal vacation destination for me because it was a good mix of a photography lover’s landscapes, adventurous day trips, and uncrowded beaches, all without being too touristy. Oh, and VOLCANOES. Not to mention the added benefit of getting up close (and sometimes personal) with wildlife, both above and below sea level. Even though I’ve barely seen all of what the Galapagos have to offer, I’m convinced that everyone needs to visit at some point in their life. Probably sooner rather than later.

Here are just a few of the obvious reasons why you should consider a trip to the Galapagos as your next destination. And really, it’s not as expensive as you think. But more on that later.

 

1. The Wildlife
Playfully curious sea lions. Blue and red footed boobies. Hissing tortoises. Lanky pink flamingos. Wobbly little penguins. Deep-diving marine iguanas. Whether you’re on a boat, bike, feet, snorkeling, or scuba diving, you’ll get to interact with so many different species that are generally unafraid of humans. That means they’ll stand there and examine you while you examine them. They’ll swim alongside you and continue about their journey. Or if they’re really playful like the sea lion pup we encountered, they’ll come right up and hug you and beg for you to scratch its belly.

Iguana

Galapagos Penguin

2. The Landscape
The different elevations of the volcanic islands give way to several ecosystems. At first glance some of the islands look like lifeless spans of nothing, but if you look closer or walk a few meters all of that can easily change. One minute you could be on a long stretch of white, resort-free beach, the next walking up a shaded dirt road, then suddenly you’re scrambling over a Mars-like rocky surface, peering into an active volcano crater. Some of the beaches on uninhabited islands such as Bartolome have layers upon layers of undisturbed lava flows covering soft white sand that looks like it’s never been touched by man.


 

3. Snorkeling
You can jump in the water with a snorkel just about anywhere and see all kinds of fish and sea turtles. But in places like Los Tuneles, you’ll get to swim through caves and tunnels where sting rays and schools of sharks sleep, sea horses huddle, and baby sea lions swim, who just want to play tag and have you tickle their bellies.

 

4. Scuba Diving
I didn’t take my camera diving because I was worried about exceeding the depth at which my camera is actually waterproof up to. But diving in the Galapagos is a must. Many of the dive sites have strong currents and are for more experienced divers, but there are a few spots you can visit even if you don’t have that many dives under your belt. I mean really, you don’t have to go very deep to find yourself swimming below a ten-foot manta ray or alongside a school of hammerhead sharks.

 
Snorkeling

 

5. Active Volcanoes
Sierra Negra is a fairly easy hike that can be done in about 5-6 hours from the car drop-off point. The first, more relaxed part of the hike breaks through the clouds on a dirt path surrounded by trees. Before long you reach the summit, which is actually the second largest caldera in the world (behind Yellowstone). While it’s definitely a sight to see, especially the lava flows from the 2005 eruption, the real awesomeness comes when you continue onwards to Volcan Chico. Climbing out there took another 45 minutes or so of climbing alongside lava tubes and lava rocks in the brutal sunlight, only to find ourselves looking down into steaming craters at the end of the trail.

6. Colorfully Diverse Beaches
One day you can choose to make the hour-long trek from town to Tortuga Bay before finding yourself on the flawless, secluded stretch of white sand beach. The next you can try to play tough guy while running barefoot across hot, black, rocky sand. Either way, land is more abundant than people here so it’s easy to find plenty of space to claim as your own for the afternoon. Though I didn’t see them all, I’ve heard the Galapagos also have dark green, pink, and red beaches too.

Sunset from Caleta Iguana

And with that I’ll stop at six because I’m pretty sure the photos speak for themselves.

Stay tuned because I’ll be giving you all kinds of tips for making a trip to the Galapagos more affordable than you think. Until then, you might as well go ahead and request at least two weeks off work whenever works for you—because there’s never a bad season to visit the Galapagos thanks to their location.

Categories
Adventure Outdoor

THAT TIME WE KILLED AND ATE A PET BUNNY

“Just slit the throat, cut the anus, and let it all fall out.”

Not exactly the first words you want to hear after walking into a cabin full of strangers you’ll be locked up with in the woods for the next 48 hours. What the hell did I sign up for?

Most single 20-something girls in New York City spend their Friday nights prowling the clubs in short skirts and high heels. But I started mine standing on a dark street corner in the Bronx, waiting to hitch a ride upstate with a complete stranger for a wilderness survival workshop. I wasn’t sure if I should expect to be dumped in the middle of nowhere Bear Grylls style or what. After all, I live in Manhattan where I’m used to getting anything I want at any time, and for the right price, there’s always someone to do my dirty work for me. The closest to “survival mode” I’ve ever come while living in the concrete jungle was hunting down mice in my apartment, or boiling a pan of water to wash my face when the hot water went out. So when I walked into this cabin to hear two guys discussing the gory details of how we’d be killing tomorrow night’s dinner, I began to question whether or not I was ready for it.

I pretended not to overhear them and went to introduce myself to Kay, the workshop organizer. She’s a natural leader with wild hair and an even wilder personality, who’s always the first one daring people to do something crazy. When I nervously tried to make myself seem like more of a badass by poking fun at her, I immediately regretted the words the second they came out of my mouth. She fired back by listing all of the injuries and surgeries she’s had thanks to her adventurous side—trumping them all and silencing the conversation with “and then my uterus fell out.” Then she told me who those two equally insane guys were who were discussing dinner details in the corner—Jamie, a retired British Army officer, and Wild Dog, a jack-of-all-trades survivalist who purposely gets lost all over the globe, scares off bears with his bare hands, and forgoes showers for weeks on end by the looks (and smells) of it. They were our instructors for the weekend.

When I’d read in the workshop description that a British Army Officer would be teaching us, I was expecting a drunken Churchill-esque man, showering us with spit as he shouted at us to use our teeth and tear the flesh off of live animals until blood spilled down our chins. Instead, Jamie was an ordinary looking suburban dad type with crazy grey hair, a charming smile, and flashy L.L. Bean style. His dainty accent made him seem anything but intimidating, and he even helped do the dishes every night after our group dinner. Mad Dog on the other hand looked like he’d just walked in from a week of roughing it in a pile of leaves outside the cabin, with his thick matted beard and thinning ponytail hiding most of his face.

Saturday morning came, and after a warm shower I joined the rest of the group to learn how to track and hunt animals by their footprints and scat trails. Since it’d take some time to actually track and kill an animal in the wild, Kay went to the market to buy a rabbit while the rest of us followed random piles of shit around the woods. We came across traces of deer scat and a questionable pile that I’m pretty sure was from Mad Dog. They were right, this was nowhere near as easy as tracking mouse droppings in my apartment. We’d probably starve to death before we ever found, trapped, and killed anything to eat.

My first fire—which nearly burnt down the entire area since I forgot to clear the leaves.

I was off building my very first fire from sticks and dried leaves when Kay arrived with a box.

“Now I know we’re not supposed to play with our food, but does anyone want to see what’s for dinner tonight?” Kay said as she opened the box. Suddenly it all became real.

I was imagining one of those generic, rabid looking yard rabbits you shoo from eating vegetables in the garden. Instead she pulled out this huge floppy-eared bunny with a shiny, healthy coat of fur, whose only fault was putting his trust in us not to harm him. As people gathered around to hold the rabbit, I knew this was exactly what we weren’t supposed to do. Pet him. Become friends with him. Look into his big chocolatey eyes. Treat him like a pet. Name him Mr Floppy. And yet here we were, hugging Mr Floppy and assuring him everything would be okay. Good to know this group of strangers was full of liars.

I made the mistake of making eye contact with Mr Floppy and immediately started planning how I could free him while making it seem like an accident. Seeing ten fires around him, he looked as though he knew what was about to happen. I could have looked away and continued working on my fire, ignoring the fact that an innocent bunny was about to be murdered 20 feet away. But instead I found myself pushing past everyone, and next thing you know I was front row with my camera.

Now don’t get me wrong, I love meat. It tastes amazing, it’s fun to play with raw, and the marbleized cuts are worthy of framing and hanging on a wall. But as an animal loving child who couldn’t even throw away stuffed animals for fear of hurting their feelings, I’ve managed to continue loving meat by completely ignoring any stories of how animals are raised, treated, or killed before they make their way to my mouth. Thankfully once that slab of meat is unrecognizable as an animal, it was never a living creature as far as I’m concerned. But the thought of actually watching a cuddly living thing take its last breath as its heart stops beating, just for the sake of a delicious meal, is a bit much for me. It’s best if I leave that part to someone else.

As Jamie elaborated on how to catch a rabbit in the wild, my mind wandered back to that initial conversation I’d heard: “slit the throat, cut the anus, and let it all fall out.” Oh shit. Things were about to get messy. What would happen when he slit the throat? Would blood squirt from the aorta and hit my camera lens? What about everything that “falls out” after he cuts the anus? Is that going to spill out in a pool of red blood, like a warm liquid piñata?

Then he grabbed the rabbit from the box and I instinctively pressed record. Just as quickly, Mr Floppy was dead. It was uneventful, anti-climatic and almost humane. I had envisioned Jamie, with his tongue out Gene Simmons style, grabbing Mr Floppy by the ears and slitting his throat while he was still alive, his whole body spilling out organ by bloody organ onto the leaves below. But there was no blood at all, he just stretched the poor thing to death like a defective Stretch Armstrong doll.

Once Mr Floppy was proclaimed dead, we all watched in silence as his body twitched and convulsed on the ground atop the dead leaves. I wasn’t convinced he was dead, and I thought about pressing pause to try and resuscitate him. But I kept recording.

Emptying the organs wasn’t exactly the gushing outpour of crimson chunks that I was expecting either. Everything was neatly packed into the body like it had been elegantly gift wrapped. Though he never slit the throat, Jamie grabbed a knife and cut the underside, starting at the anus. Still, no blood came pouring out. He reached in and grabbed the bladder, which looked like a latex water balloon full of urine, and lay it on the ground. It was perfectly dry on the outside, no blood or liquid of any sort. Then he pulled the intestines out carefully like a string of used anal beads as his hands started to get covered in blood. The slimy strand dropped to the ground as he removed the kidneys, then the perfectly healthy lungs that suggested Mr Floppy was an admirable non-smoker, before finally reaching way up inside, almost turning Mr Floppy into a headless puppet, and pulling out the heart.

It was still beating. What. The. Fuck.

Mr Floppy was not dead, yet he just had his body cut open and all of his organs pulled out like a high school science project. I almost puked, but I kept recording.

Jamie insisted he was dead and proceeded to cut the meat out as everyone passed around the bloody beating heart. Well no shit he was dead now, his entire body was disassembled on the ground. The two wallflowers of the group snatched up the organs and disappeared somewhere off on their own to grill them up. Jaime tossed Mr Floppy’s signature ears into a hole along with other non-edible body parts and carried the rest back to the cabin to be prepared for dinner. I finally stopped recording and put out my fire.

That night I wasn’t feeling very hungry while we waited for dinner to be served. But apparently I was the only one feeling a bit queezy from what we’d seen. Before the dish even made it out of the kitchen, all of those heartless carnivorous beasts had practically devoured the whole thing. I forced myself to try one bite in an attempt to convince myself that killing Mr Floppy was justifiably necessary for survival. But the meat was tough, sliding between my teeth like a rubber chicken for several minutes before I was able to swallow. I’m convinced it was Mr Floppy’s way of getting revenge, making me chew over his dead body for just as long as I sat recording his autopsy while he was still alive.

After this experience I’m even more convinced that I could never kill an animal, let alone with my bare hands. I guess I wouldn’t know for sure unless I was in a real life-or-death situation, but seeing as I can hardly open a stubborn jar, I doubt I’d have the strength to stretch a rabbit to death. I’d probably injure it just enough to leave it paralyzed and whimpering on the ground while I cried hysterically and apologized to its immobile body.

Maybe I should stick to the streets of New York City for now, and keep ordering my meals from Seamless. I think it’s safe to say I wouldn’t make it very long trying to survive in the wilderness. Nor would I have the heart to selfishly kill an animal for my own survival.

But then again, maybe I’m not as sensitive as I think considering that I recorded the whole thing.

Categories
Adventure Outdoor

12 Lessons on How to Survive in the Wild

Last weekend I went upstate to Saugerties, NY for a wilderness survival workshop with about 25 complete strangers. Sounds like a cold weekend of sleeping in piles of leaves, fighting off bears and wolves with flaming sticks, purifying my own urine until it’s safe to drink, and hunting down squirrels (or fellow survivalists) to tear apart their disease-ridden bodies in a bloodied frenzy, right? No, it wasn’t a Bear Grylls, “dump your ass in the middle of nowhere with nothing more than a knife and a compass” kind of thing. It was a “stay in a warm, cozy cabin with hot cooked meals and plenty of alcohol” kind of thing.

But I did still learn some valuable lessons, including how to track and kill rabbits, but let’s save that for a day when I’m not snacking on Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies while I write.

I give you 12 Lessons on How to Survive in the Wild in hopes that, if you’re anything like me, the number one thing you’ll learn is to surround yourself with a bunch of surviver-types any time you walk out your door.

Dinner being stretched to death. But more on that later.

 

1. Apparently I’m not as adventurous as I thought I was, since I’ve never looked at a table and thought “table bouldering.” The challenge is to start on top of the table, climb under it and back up the other side without touching the ground. Some went the width of the underside, while others attempted to do the whole length. Many tried, only a few succeeded. I watched.

 

2. If you didn’t succeed in climbing the rope in high school PE class, you probably won’t succeed in climbing a limbless tree. Unless you’ve got two guys to help push your ass up like I did. Plus most animals are better climbers than humans, so if a predator is chasing you like you’re a giant piece of steak, don’t climb a tree to escape it.

If you’re not running for your life, but instead just looking for some random “tree parachuting” fun, find a firm but bendy tree, wrap your thighs around that bitch, and pull yourself up inch by inch. Once the tree starts to bend towards the ground, let go of your feet and ride it down. Just don’t get one that’s too thick or you’ll end up 20 feet high with no bend in sight like Ed here, and you’ll have to slide down.

 

3. Hiking in complete darkness is not as difficult as you’d think once your eyes have a chance to adjust to the light. Although it’s not that easy either, since we couldn’t find our way back to the trail. It’s always better to build a shelter before dusk, stay put for the night, and set out again in the morning. (Or just turn your headlamps on and make your way back to the cabin like we did.)

 

4. Guns aren’t just good for hunting down your dinner. They’re even more fun to pass the time until someone finds you by shooting beer cans.

Shooting Air Rifles

 

5. Any idiot can start a fire with a bunch of dry leaves, some sticks, and a book of matches. Even me. Keeping it going without getting bored or causing a forest fire is a different story. Smokey the Bear was right, “only you can prevent forest fires.” Sadly he does not come rushing in the second you do something stupid. So make sure you clear the ground of any possible tinder before building a fire, or you could end up causing an endless trail of flames when your shoddy teepee of sticks collapses.

 

 

6. Speaking of fire, it’s always a good idea to have a professional flame twirler (and a bottle of whiskey) on hand to keep warm. And for pure entertainment.

Fire Twirling

 

7. Most plants have medicinal properties. If I remember correctly, our instructor actually told us that all plants are medicinal, but I haven’t found any evidence online to support that. Either way, “most” still sounds like a gamble to me so unless it’s aloe or a dandelion, I don’t really know what to do with it. Side note (and I think I learned this back in like second grade) tobacco is highly medicinal, but sadly somewhere along the line us humans decided to use it for more harm than good. Bad humans, bad!


8. Apparently the only four types of plants you need to know when you’re lost in the wild are pine, oak, grass, and cattails.
They’re all edible, versatile, and do lots of things that I can’t really remember. So if you’re curious, Google those four and you’ll see how to boil acorns for a hearty meal, cook cattails like corn on the cob, and even get a sort of “flour” from them. But I recommend when you’re out in the wild you wander your way to a Farmers Market and load up on some delicious treats like thick-cut bacon, homemade granola, pumpkin butter, and pumpkin cannolis. Just make sure you’ve got some cash because chances are they won’t take credit.

 

9. In extreme conditions where huddling with a group of strangers to battle hypothermia may be necessary, you can fit 14-16 grown adults in an 8-10 person hot tub if you really try.

 

10. You could build a simple “debris hut” with sticks and leaves just big enough to fit around your body to give you the warmth and shelter you need to make it through a cold night…

11. …but surviving in the wilderness is much easier when you retreat back to a cozy cabin with home-cooked meals every evening.

Not a bad view either

 

12. I would still definitely die if I was lost in the wilderness for more than two days. But I can survive the hell out of a weekend in a cabin with running water, electricity, and a hot tub!

 

Categories
New York Outdoor

27 PHOTOS OF FALL FOLIAGE IN CENTRAL PARK

Earlier this week I was walking across East 72nd Street when I noticed yellow leaves on the ground—something that’s easy to miss considering how few trees there are and how quickly the doormen of the fancy Upper East Side apartments spray the sidewalk clean first thing every morning. Even though it was 65 degrees that day, it finally hit me that it was fall. It also hit me that I’ve been in New York for eight autumns and have yet to make it up to New England to see the leaves change color. Hell, I haven’t even made it to Central Park to see the leaves until it was too late and the trees were already bare. So I decided right then and there that this was the year, and this was the weekend. I only live six blocks from one of the most scenic areas in the park, so I was going to grab my camera and set out for an afternoon exploring my neighborhood park, rather than continue taking it for granted.

I entered at 72nd and Fifth Ave and walked across to the Mall, Bethesda Terrace, and then the lake to snap some pictures of the Bow Bridge before making my way to Strawberry Fields. It smelled like decaying leaves and wet grass which was like a breath of fresh air compared to the city streets. Thankfully it rained for about 10 minutes which sent a bunch of tourists scrambling for cover and out of my shots. I struggled not to take a photo with every step, but it was even more colorful than I imagined, and further proof that fall is the best season in New York.

Let’s face it, neither words nor pictures can do any justice for actually experiencing it yourself, but here are some of the better shots I took. Enjoy!

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Down came the rain and washed the tourists out (or in?)

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Rowboats in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

Fall in Central Park

 

Categories
Europe Outdoor Switzerland

JUNGFRAUJOCH: TAKING THE LAZY TRAIN TO THE TOP OF EUROPE

Skydiving has been at the top of my to-do list for the past few years. But in true chick form, I want my first time to be special. I don’t want to pop my free-fall cherry over some boring flatlands. I want to plunge towards the Earth over a landscape that even Bob Ross couldn’t paint. That way if my chute doesn’t open, at least I’ll die with an awesome view. So at the end of my London living experience I flew down to Switzerland with the sole intention of jumping out of an airplane and gracefully falling back to Earth over the Alps. Since April was technically spring I wasn’t too worried about the weather, but knowing how I somehow always end up visiting places during historically wet times, I gave myself three full days in Interlaken to ensure at least one of those days was nice enough to jump.

It never happened. In fact, the mountains never even came out from the damn clouds the entire time I was there. I was getting frustrated. After all the city hopping I’d been doing around Europe I needed some sort of a rush. About the only adrenaline pumping activity that wasn’t shut down was paragliding (post and video coming soon!) which was entertaining and gave me a great view, but it was nowhere near as exhilarating and piss-your-pants awesome as what I’d imagine skydiving would be. So on my last day there, fed up from the months of grey skies, I decided to head above the clouds to Jungfraujoch.

Also marketed to tourists like me as “The Top of Europe,” Jungfraujoch is a mountain pass between the Mönch and the Jungfrau in the Bernese Alps. The journey to the top takes about 2.5 hours via three trains. But like all other Swiss trains I encountered, they operate seamlessly. We set off into the green mountains, seeing waterfalls, rivers, and the most adorable little homes I’ve ever seen under grey skies.

Boarding the train at Lauterbrunnen
Heading up to Jungfraujoch
I could totally live here
Train up to Jungfraujoch
And here

 

The higher we got, the more snow started to fall and accumulate, and before long the ground was covered in about two feet of snow. But the train continued chugging uphill. At some points it was impossible to see out the window, and the final leg on the Jungfrau Railway was almost entirely enclosed in a tunnel. We made a five minute stop at a glass-enclosed lookout point, completely oblivious to what we were going to be able to see. I quickly ran off the train and looked out the window to see that we’d finally made it above the clouds, but not by much. There were snowy mountain peaks beginning to emerge, but still blending into the layer of clouds.

 

Heading up to Jungfraujoch
If I were these people I’d move a few hundred meters down the mountain and out of the snow
Barely above the clouds
The view from the first train stop on the Jungfrau Railway, barely breaking through the clouds
Jungfraujoch
First view of the mountains peeking above the clouds once we went a bit further to the second stop

 

Jungfraujoch is 3,471 m (11,388ft) above sea level which is apparently just enough altitude change to fuck with me. Shortly after I stepped off the train I could tell it was more difficult than usual to breathe. I felt kind of winded, and since my chest was feeling heavy it was proving impossible to catch my breath. (I blame it on the fact that my doctor told me I had slight asthma when I was younger but I chose not to do anything about it.) But since it was hardly enough to be annoying I continued on, rushing through the inside tour so I could spend maximum time snapping pics before the last train down.

 

Jungfraujoch digital experience
Digital tour of Jungfraujoch
Inside tour at Jungfraujoch
Welcome to your brain on drugs
Wooden sculptures at the ice cave
This guy.

 

The walk took me past all sorts of history, paintings, and videos of the area, but probably the coolest part was the Ice Palace of sculptures and tunnels that look like they’d be a hell of a lot of fun with a bobsled.

 

Tunnel at the ice cave
Tunnel leading into the Ice Palace
Ice cave
The floor wasn’t as slick as it looked, even when you ran and slid across it. That or my shoes just had excellent traction.
Licking ice at Jungfraujoch
I like to lick things. And I was kind of tempted to see if my tongue would get stuck. It didn’t.
Bear Sculptures in the ice cave at Jungfraujoch
Too bad these guys were barred off, I would’ve licked them too.

 

Then finally I take an elevator up to the Sphinx Observatory, strapped my GoPro on my head and made my way outside to see the blue skies and snowy mountain peaks that made the journey totally worth it.

 

The Sphinx Observatory
The Sphinx Observatory
Jungfraujoch
The mountains seemed much smaller coming out of the Aletsch Glacier
No clouds up here!
High altitude selfie
The Swiss flag added a nice touch to the blue and white landscape
They looked like they were having fun…
Jumping at Jungfraujoch
So I  made friends and had them take a jumping picture of me
Beautiful view of clouds forming over Mönch

I saw my first mini avalanche from the top of Jungfraujoch

Should you go?

Meh. It was definitely cool to see the kind of view that usually only hardcore climbers get to see. But then again you don’t get that same sense of accomplishment when you’re at the top because you just sat on your ass for two and a half hours to see it.

But you’ll see three awesome peaks of the Bernese Alps (Eiger, Mönch and Jungfrau), as well as the Aletsch Glacier which is the largest glacier in the Alps. So that’s cool.

BUT IT IS NOT CHEAP. I didn’t have a Swiss Pass of any kind and I paid $214.35 for the RT train fare. Had I not budgeted $600 for my skydiving experience I would’ve never paid that. Either way, for that price I would’ve liked to have some more of an activity as opposed to sitting on a train for five hours total. You know, like base jumping back down to the ground below.

If you do decide to go, ask the staff at the train station to check their webcams beforehand to make sure the weather up there is okay. And maybe even look into a glacier hike if you’re interested—there seem to be some options if you plan ahead.

There’s a reason Interlaken is known for its extreme sports. And if the weather abides, then most certainly I think your time would be better spent experiencing those. But if you get stuck with shit weather like I did and have an extra couple of hundred dollars to spend, then sure, it’s worth the trek.

Oh, and by the way, the day I left Switzerland there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. Go figure.

Categories
Europe Outdoor

Snowmobiling During a Blizzard on Langjökull Glacier

Despite my gigantor size list of things to see in Iceland, I figured I’d wait to see what my friends were up for before making any definite plans. Turns out they weren’t nearly as inclined to conquer the Icelandic wilderness as I was.

This left me scrambling to figure out what I could realistically do and what would have to wait until next time. But how do you choose between hiking across volcanoes and glaciers, and snowmobiling across endless snowy terrains? Or walking through lava fields and ice caves, licking glaciers at Jökulsárlón, or photographing black sand beaches, Landmannalaugar, and Eyjafjallajökull (the difficult, but not impossible to pronounce volcano that shut down European air travel back in 2010)?

Every small tour I came across required at least two people to book. Even though it’s something I commonly encounter as a solo traveler, I started getting angry that I was spending time inside looking for things to do when I should be out exploring. So I booked the first one I found that allowed a single passenger.

When the bus arrived in the pitch black, pouring rain at 830AM, it wasn’t a 6-8 person SUV. It was an entire busload of tourists. And we were going to the ultra-touristy Golden Circle. But there was snowmobiling on a glacier so I was happy.

I’ll post more about the Golden Circle later because well, you can read about that pretty much anywhere. And making the trip on a rainy day with a busload of tourists isn’t exactly the most intimately fascinating experience as you can imagine.

Just to be clear, this day was supposed to be epic. And snowmobiling on a glacier was supposed to give me excellent footage on my first adventure with my new GoPro camera.

About 35 of us hopped off the bus and packed into a freezing cold truck to head out to the snowmobiling site. There wasn’t exactly a road to follow, just a few yellow markers sticking up from the snow. The further we got out the more the wind and snow picked up and the more I started to wonder if my three layers and snowboarding pants and coat wouldn’t be enough. Then I looked around the bus to see what everyone else was wearing and noticed two girls dressed in skinny jeans and pea coats and I was reassured, though I couldn’t help but wonder if they got on the wrong bus.

 

The bus
Boarding the bus to go out to the snowmobile site.
Despite that animal on my head, here I am freezing as we sat for 20 mins waiting to drive out to the middle of nowhere.

 

When we reached the cabin to layer on our snowsuits the wind really started to pick up. So much that it was actually hard to stand upright. After about 45 minutes spent suiting up and a quick weather-related safety lesson we set out on our way.

 

Getting ready to snowmobile on Langjökull Glacier from Just Visiting on Vimeo.

Suit up
That’s me in there, feeling warm, fat, and indestructible.

 

Finally we set out in a single file, the wind and sleet blowing at our backs and pounding against our helmets. I strapped my GoPro to my head, turned that bitch on, and took off, ready to face this storm that was just waiting to welcome us. The first 10 minutes were pretty uneventful, lots of stop and go followed by complete white-outs until everyone got used to driving a snowmobile. Unfortunately this was about the time that my GoPro randomly shut off. (Still trying to figure out if that was weather related or hardware/software related.)

Oh, and remember the girls I said looked like they were dressed for a completely different tour? They were right ahead of me and must’ve missed the part about leaning against the snowmobile because I saw them hit a hill, go flying in the air and fall on their side, landing on the driver’s leg. In all fairness you couldn’t tell where the hills were and it was literally impossible to see ANYTHING unless you flipped your visor up and suffered the ice pellets attacking your eyeballs. I probably should’ve stopped to make sure they were okay, but that’s what the tour guides are for right? So I kept going with some fearless Asian kid up further ahead who kind of tested out the path ahead so I was free to speed up and have some fun.

Needless to say the video sucks, but just in case you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to snowmobile on a sheet of white paper, wonder no more. All I can say is it’s similar to flying an airplane through the clouds. Once you lose sight of the person in front of you, you somehow lose all sense of direction and have no idea which way is up, down, left, or right, which is probably the weirdest feeling I’ve ever experienced.

 

Snowmobiling on Langjökull Glacier from Just Visiting on Vimeo.

The blizzard went on for about 35 minutes, then once it let up we made our way to a resting point behind a mountain for a quick break before heading back against the wind. I managed to snap a few iPhone pics while we were stopped, but the GoPro was still unresponsive. Ugh.

 

Like a bawse
Like a bawse.

 

Five minute break to play in the snow

 

It was almost infuriating to think about how beautiful the landscape must be around me on a clear day. But then again, snowmobiling through a blizzard is probably something to remember too, right? The coolest thing that I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of was the bright blue glacial ice beneath the snow once the weather cleared up a bit, which was a very refreshing yet surreal color among such a stark white setting.

Searching for those landscape shots didn’t quite turn out as I’d hoped in Iceland, but I guess that just means I’ll have to go back in the summer when there are 24 hours of daylight and I can explore as much as humanly possible. Who’s with me?