Day 335 I Have Delicate Vestibular Aparatuses

I’d like to remember today as the day we visited a Galápagos tortoise breeding centre and were in awe at the small tortoises which were a few years old, the medium sized ones out age and the giant ones over 100 years old. That was only a small fraction – about one hour – of our day.

The rest was filled with oppressive heat, sweating while eating a set lunch menu that included hot soup that made me sweat more. The air was still so it didn’t evaporate. Our unwashed clothes were damp with sweat and beginning to smell mouldy.

I read my ebook as we waited for the mini ute to take us to the jetty for our return boat ride to Santa Cruz. I was glad for the escape. Glad to escape my island holiday!

The sea was choppy and we travelled slower so it was a 2 hour 22 minute nauseated ordeal where I counted to 600 after we passed the giant volcanic crater about half an hour from Isabela, tried to sleep, and counted back from 600 when my timer said 1 hr 50 min. The journey was twenty minutes longer than Monday’s but thanks to Buscopan every time my stomach lurched it was paralysed and nothing came up.

I’d been wearing damp clothes all day – I didn’t pack much so everything is damp from having either been snorkelling, in the boat or rained on. By the time we reached Santa Cruz and began to limp from hotel to hotel looking for a room I had to walk like a cowboy because my inner thighs chafed.

Silberstein had one room but then didn’t as the air conditioner was broken. We limped down the road. Mangrove place was rated at about US$300 a night in our guide book. We thought we should treat ourselves after last night’s bathroom where the towel rack fell off the wall and the shower curtain clung on for dear life by a handful of rings, the rest torn off.

$1900 for three nights!? We haven’t even spent that much since arriving in the archipelago on Sunday. I would’ve just paid for it had the concierge shown any interest in selling it to us, or at least stopped staring at his computer screen while he pointed with a pen at the rack rate for a suite. The woman we paid for $50 per night accommodation on Isabela was far friendlier and welcoming.

We walked on. We took the room at Sol Y Mar at double what we’d planned on paying because I didn’t want to walk any further. I needed a shower.

We ate across the road at a tourist trap. And paid for it. Tomorrow we are going back to the cheap local eat alley way. A bowl of rice and a piece of pan fried chicken is all I really want in life.

Tonight’s plan: lie on our bed made from two singles pushed together, in my undies and finish my book. The sound of the waves crashing outside is relaxing but the curtains are drawn; if I have to look at another wave again I’ll vomit.

Next exotic holiday concept: Arizona Desert.


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