Reflections of a Galapagos Volunteer

I feel a huge wrench to have left Jatun Sacha and all the friends I have made during my stay there.

My expectations of this trip were so mixed and any negative worries about whether I would physically cope were completely unfounded. The only negatives actually experienced were the silly niggles you get on any trip under difficult conditions.

So, is my judgement clouded because of the romance of Galapagos?

Possibly...

Is it the people that made it so special? For sure...

Is it Jatun Sacha itself? Certainly...

This has been one of the most amazing experiences I have had ever had the privilege to be part of. I almost think life changing. Cliched? Of course! But true.

The Galapagos archipelago is a very special place and "Jatun Sacha" is part of that package.

They say you should never go back and I would have to seriously think about returning for that reason alone. I'm not getting any younger and this is definately a younger person's venture unless you have the right mentality (which I think I do).

I managed two weeks with no additional adverse physical problems to what the younger people experienced. In fact, some younger people had a difficult time.

I would highly recommend the Jatun Sacha San Cristobal Station if you want to work on land conservation and take part in the wonderful work the staff and the volunteers undertake. If you want to go there to "work with the animals" then this is not the trip for you. There are no animals there to look after (unless you count doing bird observations or equiv).

If, after reading my blogs you think you might like to spend some time in this magical location giving something back to the land (or in the case of the mora, taking something away), don't faff about! Just go for it!

Adios Jatun Sacha!

What carbon footprint?

As a writer, I am in a privileged position to be able to write about my experience on San Cristobal. Thank you for reading about my adventures and I hope I have entertained you over the weeks that I have been writing this blog. I also hope I have brought some of the magic that is Galapagos to a wider audience.

Since my return, I have had great difficulty trying to re-adjust back into my day-to-day life. But my biggest challenge so far has been to verbally communicate my experience without getting into an in-depth discussion on the current conservationist buzz-word: carbon footprint.

Some might say and some have already criticised that surely the work done by the folk at Jatun Sacha cannot justify the enormous size of the carbon footprint used to get here.

Well, I'm no scientist and cannot comment on carbon footprints. All I know is regardless of how big my carbon footprint was, whatever a carbon footprint actually is, if volunteers such as myself and hundreds of others who have given up and are still giving up their time and money stop going to Jatun Sacha, how will the land be restored to make it suitable once more for the tortoises to live freely on San Cristobal? If the land isn't suitable for these creatures, will those tortoises being bred in the breeding centres on Santa Cruz or San Cristobal be forever condemned to live in cages or pens?

Ironically, when Charles Darwin first stepped onto the beach on San Cristobal in 1835, the destruction of the giant tortoises was already underway by whalers to be used as fresh meat on their boats. Darwin himself even helped to destroy many more of these unique reptiles as they provided fresh meat for his expedition. Now, 150 years after the publication of The Origin of Species it would be nice to think that in another 150 years time we have taken responsibility for putting right what our ancestors inadvertantly almost managed to destroy.

If successful, Jatun Sacha's work in the community and education programme will have taught local people how to clear their own land of the destructive, invasive species that are currently choking out everything that is good for the endemic flora and fauna. They will also be encouraged to grow their own sustainable crops. This will therefore reduce or eliminate the need to import produce which in turn will halt the ever increasing number of introduced pests and diseases from the mainland.

It's all about the bigger picture and whether or not we care enough to preserve such a special place on this planet. I don't need to be a scientist to know I care enough.

Day 17: Adios Jatun Sacha...updated

My last day. I sleep well but wake at 2 am by the cockerells (spelling?) which have been the bane of Sams time here. He has permission from Cesare to finish off the old ones, but not the new, expensive ones. Sams not sure which ones are which short of tracking them during the night to see which ones make the crowing and Im sure he wont do that (sorry about the absence of apostrophes - this keyboard in Guayacuil is all about face and I dont have time to work it out - Im in transit - didnt know we were coming home via here!)

I digress...
I get up at 6 am and write more of my journal before the others get up though the secret zipper is awake before me. As its my last day, I dont care any more.

Cesare is much better after his early night which is just as well as he is going into town with all the staff on a "Jolly" for the day. I hope he gets back before I leave at 7 pm.

My last breakfast is gruel because the new lady in the kitchen miscalculated the amount of porridge she should cook and I get the watered down version.

Obviously time to go.

I start collating my stuff ready to pack at any free moment during the day.

I do more bird watching, this time time with Jesse and Rita from Switzerland whos been away this whole time on a cruise. We go up to the Miconia level. Jesse is actually quite good at keeping quiet during this stalk. After his first day when he chased the chickens up the path, I had feared we would have problems with his ability to keep his excitement under control. We dont see as many birds as yesterday. Rita is the official photograph taker as I no longer can provide this service.

We get caught in a rain storm on the way down and although all of us except Jesse have rain jackets, we are still quite wet before we can put them on.

I start to pack before lunch and leave a few bits and pieces for folk so I can cut down on weight, including two of the precious zip-lock bags for Marten.

During siesta, I realise I havent washed the caked mud of my hiking boots so spend most of an hour doing that. The yellow warbler flits in and out and I watch him search for food while I scrub away the dirt. I'm sad this is the last time I'll see him.

My green cargo pants arent in my returned laundry and eventually I find them in the laundry.

Steph wants us to do team building after siesta which means football on the pitch at the bar. She wants me to play and even though I refuse on account of my knee etc etc I am peer pressured to join in. Although I cant be sure I think she wants to use me as an example of "If Sue can do it, everyone can!"

Ive never played football in my life and its tough. I stop several goals even though I am not in goal by first using my hand, then my head, right shin and then thigh. It really hurts! I dont know how people can play this game for fun.

The boys are respectful, even though everyone cant help killing themselves with laughter at my attempts but hey, my team wins! Im not proud!

I am shattered afterwards and return to the New House soon after 4 to finish packing. If I dont get clobbered for excess baggage with all that coffee Ill be amazed. I finish with 30 minutes to spare.

Jesse and Marten are the perfect gentlemen and offer to take my bags to the kitchen for me (the central meeting place, if you havent gathered this by now) and I walk away from the New House for the last time.

Im feeling quite sad to be leaving and hope I dont cry.

When Lucia (I don't know how to spell her name) the older lady from the kitchen brings out a cake that she's baked because I'm leaving, of course I cry. She gives me such a big hug.

I've barely eaten my last mouthful and the taxi arrives with Miguel in it. He's been on holiday since Friday so I thought I wouldn't see him again. But it's time for me to leave.

It's hugs all round, except from Jesse who does a "young persons" hand farewell greeting with me - I just kind of followed his lead...sort of...

...then I'm on my way.

The taxi driver doesn't speak English of course and his only words during the whole journey of "Adios Jatun Sacha" are the most appropriate title for this post.

Day 16: Zips, fly bites and birds

Irina´s Ipod has been playing all night. Not that it disturbed me. SOMEBODY next door was up very early zipping zips. It wasn´t even light. Then they zipped up the zips, then unzipped them and so it went on. I´d like to know who. I don´t like being woken up at any time before I´m ready but especially not by zipping zips. They were big zips too, not like the flies on trousers or on a wash bag or even a sleeping bag. It sounded like the big zip you get on a big cargo bag.

I know it isn´t Jesse. His stuff is strewn all over the floor of the room he shares with Marten. They´re both equally messy so that eliminates Marten too (who usually doesn´t get up until 10 minutes before breakfast, at 06:50.

I usually hear Jesse clomping downstairs at first light. He´s always the first up but I´m always awake when he goes off to the toilet block. Today, he´s on breakfast duty so is up before 05:30.

I´m wide awake now, so I get up to make the most of my penultimate sunrise and write some of my journal.

It´s pancakes for breakfast. It´s everyone´s favourite before our next fave, porridge. But I can only manage to eat two pancakes with no jam. We don´t have butter here, though if we did I wouldn´t have eaten it. The butter here is fab. It´s so yellow like I remember from childhood (I may have mentioned this before?)

I am still coughing from my first weekend. It´s getting really annoying now. Other people have got it too: Cesare and Steph.

I must sound like a right hypo and I have been taking a concoction of pills and more so now: something to decongess, something to bind me up, something for the horsefly bites especially as one has become infected as per usual and looks like a nipple on the back of my thigh, something for headache and glucosamine for my knee though I´ve not been taking the latter recently as I´ve been coping with that. Even my back´s been okay despite sleeping on a hollowed out thin foam mattress on wooden boards (don´t get me wrong, I´m really, really, really looking forward to my own bed)!

It´s raining really hard this morning so we have to work on a personal project. I don´t have one so decide to do bird observation with James.

We spend the morning reading up on birds and as James has got a better memory than me and an academic mind, I trust I can rely on him to do a good job and don´t worry if I can´t remember all the different finches. If Darwin struggled, what chance have I?

Belinda leaves at 10 am and I´m very sad to see her go but maybe we´ll cross paths on Santa Cruz as we may be there at the same time. She´s the first of us five newbies to leave, then it´s me tomorrow.

As we didn´t really work this morning, James and I forego out siesta and go out to watch birds at 12:30. There is sun in-between the rain and we see a LOT of finches in the re-forestation area. I take a LOT of photos and get as close as I can.

Then we walk into the production area and I lead the way over the makeshift fence of cut down logs from re-forestation. Of course, the next bit won´t come as a surprise to those who have been following my blog, but remember it´s been raining a LOT and the logs are wet. Well, I didn´t remember this and trod on one log and slipped on it and fell, straight down, chest down squashing my camera between logs and me, jamming/bending the zoom lense which was open of course as I´d been actively taking photos. At this point it can still take pictures but fixed on the same zoom setting, so that´s something.

Over the course of the next 3 hours, I take over 200 photos, some of which are really close up and this one of the warbler finch in flight which I don´t even realise I have captured.

We call it a day at 4 pm and James logs the times against the birds we have pictures for. The Canadians are in the kitchen having just finished chopping down the banana tree for its fruit by the camp fire. I ask if either of them are any good at fixing things. I should have just left it but, bless him, one of them did try his best. It wasn´t his fault that now my camera doesn´t even take photos. Completely my responsibility, Sam if you´re reading this!

Back in my room, feeling very upset, so upset I can´t even write how upset I was feeling, I notice the non-functioning light bulb had finally given up the ghost and fallen from it´s housing on the beam and crashed into a thousand pieces onto the floor. I had to find a dustpan and brush to clear it up.

Everything´s all going horribly wrong. I end up showering late and having rush to get to supper on time.

More coffee was made this morning so at least I´ll get enough to buy to bring home with me.

It rains again after dark. I´m so over the rain. I know it´s still officially the rainy season but I was hoping it might finish early just for me, what with global warming ´n all!

I go to bed at 9:30 for the last time on damp sheets. Cesare went to bed straight after supper at 7 pm, he´s coughing so much he´s really not well.

The wild pig is definately out there. The Canadian boys saw it on the way from the Old House.

I can´t believe my 2 weeks is almost over. It´s flown by. I have learned so much and there´s so much more to learn. I am really, really looking forward to the next stage of my trip to Galapagos, the cruise, but this has been so special. Without sounding sanctimonious I feel I have given a little bit back to the island of San Cristobal and if I can spread the word afterwards, then all the better.

Day 15: Another day of rest?

My tummy is making life uncomfortable but then I suppose considering all water is contaminated and has to be boiled, I´m lucky not to have gone down with something sooner.

I didn´t get up till 07:30 and it felt like I´d had a lie-in. I wonder if I´ll become an earlier riser when I´m back home?

I go to breakfast with the others and a Swedish man with blood-shot eyes introduces himself as being extremely hungover. He suggests we have the hamburgers for breakfast. The others agree this is a wonderful idea but I have toast and coffee. He is travelling round the world on a very small yacht as a casual crew member - he couldn´t sail before but now he can. Next stop, New Zealand!! Does he know how big the Pacific is? It seems he does but with the amount of alcohol obviously still in his bloodstream, I don´t think he really cares!

We all go our separate ways for the day and I go to the Interpretation Centre by taxi for $1 as I´m pushed for time. I have a quick look round this information centre on Galapagos and learn a few more things I didn´t already know but I think it´s geared for school age students. I don´t have time to walk the Frigatebird trail, especially as I was thereabouts last weekend and it´s hot, so I walk back to town. I take a final classic photo of a seal having some time off:

I jump straight into my new fave air con internet café and do some more to my blog. Sadly, there is no way I´m going to finish it up to date today and this is probably my last chance before going on the cruise next Wednesday.

I leave it to the wire and end up rushing back to the hostel to pick up my bag before getting into the waiting taxi.

There has obviously been a lot of rain in the Highlands this weekend as the approach road and the footpaths within the station are extremely muddy. But it´s still good to be "home".

As I approach the Casa Neuva, I hear a lot of girlie laughter - the girlies have moved in as they don´t like it in the Old House. The place is so much noisier. Still, I´m leaving on Tuesday night, so I´ll put up with it. Irina, on the other hand can´t wait to move out to the Old House as she says the place won´t be the same without me.

I take my camera down to the toilet block to try and take a photo of my friend the yellow warbler. He has kept me company each time I go there to wash and I´m sure I can capture a good shot. (remember it´s still working as the previous pages were written retrospectively)

However, despite lying in wait, he´s so fast and a little twitchy. If I wait by the mirror, he flies onto the tap by the laundry slab. If I wait by the tap, he flies onto the mirror. I take a few and they´re not very good but worth a look at the best:

He´s on the mirror which is hanging above the sink - I don´t know if this picture can be "opened" on Blogspot to show it in its full glory but no doubt you´ll see it when I get home.

I watch him getting in under the shelf and into the cracks eating insects and he picks at the gilt on the frame before the light goes.

We have vegetable spaghetti bolognese for tea but I leave the beg and only eat half the pasta.

Irina went to Santa Cruz this weekend and saw Lonesome George but the rumours are that he´s died as he hasn´t moved since Tuesday. Guess I´ll find out when I go there on the cruise.

It rains again this evening so it´s officially going to be muddy right up till I leave.

It´s also Belinda´s last night. I´m going to miss her. She and I have become good pals.

We play "predicting the future" game. I don´t know why. Boredom I guess. It´s a kid´s game. That´s it. There are too many kids in the house (no offence). Time to go.

Irina goes to bed at 7:30 pm after falling asleep in the hammock. She had a couple of late nights I think on Santa Cruz!

When I go to bed at 9 pm her Ipod is still playing. During the night I wake and hear something crashing around in the bushes. Probably a wild pig. There´s no way I´m going for a pee with that on the loose. I just hope I don´t really, really need to go to the toilet block!

Day 14: Kicker Rock and Punta Pitt (updated)

By 5 am I seriously consider not going on the boat trip. I have already taken two Imodium pills and hope! With the pioneer spirit I´m becoming used to pulling out of the Panama hat I´ve not yet bought, I decide to go for it - $65 is a lot to lose plus the opportunity to see hammerhead sharks and goodness knows what else.

The sea is relatively calm as we collect our snorkel gear and I buy a bagel for breakfast and eat tiny pieces of it to keep me going. I am allowed to sit on top of the boat for the whole outward trip because I can´t make it to the bow. I´m sure this saves me feeling too seasick, but if I need the loo getting down from the top on a moving boat I´ll never make it in a hurry!

We reach Punta Pitt after about 90 minutes and it´s a bit choppy I manage to get to the deck and into the water without drama. The snorkelling is glorious and I see so many brightly coloured fish. Jesse is so excited about seeing a green sea-turtle that by the time I get there he´s scared it away. I decide to stay away from him and just watch on my own.

We ride/sail to Kicker Rock but when we stop, the swell is horrendous and by the time all ten of us have faffed around getting sunscreen on and snorkel gear sorted etc etc, I am feeling very sick. I am "that" close to chucking but getting in the water saves me.

Swimming between the two rocks is amazing. The amount of marine life clinging to and living around the walls is rich as if on a reef and I see so many fish. I believe I also see a shark waaay below me but can´t be 100% sure. The others don´t see it.

I´m a bit of a plodder when it comes to snorkelling - I like to watch rather than just tick the box and move on. I quickly get left behind to observe in peace away from the swishing fins of my fellow snorkellers.

The boat follows us round the rock for our safety but the diesel fumes do nothing to extinguish the nausea.

All too soon we have to get out and move on to a beach where we´ll stop for lunch.

It looks like paradise, except we all know paradise doesn´t exist.

Our guide shows us the mangroves and the frigate birds hover on the scrounge for scraps. They´re not called pirate or robber birds for nothing. We have rice with veggies and papaya juice but I can barely touch it as my tummy is still not good.

While we eat, I am pestered by green horse flies; the others are astounded at how many are on my legs while are not bothering anyone else. The flies follow me into the water where Jesse is trying to catch fish with his hands.

I don´t think I´m allowed to kill anything on Galapagos but hope the guide doesn´t black mark me for squishing as many of these nasties as I can before they get me.

We move on to Isla de Lobos where we have our final snorkel.

This rock just 30 minutes out of Port is full of sealions, frigate birds, blue-footed boobies and brown pelicans and they´re all feeding on the marine life below us.

The pelicans and boobies dive in almost on our heads but they´re only interested on the fish. It´s amazing watching them feed. It´s amazing how the pelicans can fly after the amount of fish they swallow from each neckful.

Time slips by and after an hour of drifting and watching, it´s time to go back to Port. It´s been a long day but I´m so pleased I did it despite the backs of my legs being now visibly covered in horsefly bites, so many I can´t count. And sunburn! I can´t believe the Factor 60 doesn´t protect me!

We all go for a cheap meal but I only have chips and bread - they say you should eat what you fancy when you´re not well and this is what I fancy! It´s not quite the same as a chip buttie at The Harrow but for now, it´ll pass muster!

(I have to leave you again, dear readers - I´m now back in Quito but the internet café is about to close, so more tomorrow. My camera´s broken - more of that another time - I fell on it and broke the lense. I am obviously heartbroken and only have batteries for my compact camera to last a short while (didn´t think I´d need the charger as it was only the backup camera). Luckily, I have made friends with an Australian lady who has kindly agreed to let me have copies of her photos from this trip else I´d have virtually nothing to remember it by.)

Day 13: The Galapaguero and we hit the town (updated)

After so much debate yesterday about today´s hike you would have thought everything would have gone smoothly. But whenever Jesse´s involved, something is bound to happen.

Don´t ask me how but he gets left behind and should have gone into town to the Interpretation Centre. Instead, he has to come with the main group to the Galapaguera de Cerro, the tortoise sanctuary that he visited last week.

Those doing the 4 hour hike have to be packed and ready to go at 8 am and those going by taxi can just chill out for the next 3 hours.

It´s bliss. The camp is so empty so I take the chance to take some photos of the place...

We leave camp at 11:45 and meet up with the rest of the group who are very muddy, hot and tired. So glad I didn´t do the hike though I would have learned a lot from Cesare who was leading it with the National Park guide.

We are taken into the Tortoise sanctuary where we are shown the baby tortoises right up to old tortoises. They look a bit pissed off with us all crowding round taking photos (no flash photography is allowed). Poor Jesse is bored and reads his book on Chinese history while the guide talks.

After that we walk down a very gravelly path to the ocean beach where we can swim for an hour. I decide to go in after all and it´s so exhilarating swimming in the surf with the blue footed boobies diving all around us.

All too soon we have to leave though I´m not dry. I have to dress as I am and when we get to the taxis we´re not allowed inside because we´re so wet. This is the first time I´ve travelled in the back and it´s quite good fun, though not so much when it starts to rain as we head up into the clouds of the highlands.

Arriving in Port (town), I am too late to get a cheap room again in the Hostel San Francisco so end up where I stayed last weekend paying $3 a night more at $13 a night (still pretty good if the room was better, which it isn´t!) The bathroom is in a bad way: the toilet doesn´t flush too well and the mirror and shelf unit are hanging on by one screw.

After organising my day boat-trip to Kicker Rock and Punta Pitt tomorrow, I do some shopping for souvenirs and something to wear this weekend as all my clothes are wet from the beach. It is a struggle to find something suitable but I end up buying a dress!!

By the time I´ve finished shopping, it´s dark and time to quickly shower then meet the other newbies (except we´re not newbies any more) as we´re saying farewell to three of our original group with a celebratory meal. But first we have to walk the gauntlet of the sealions, some of which are bulls and are quite intimidatory especially in the dark.

We arrive safely at the restaurant and I treat myself to Langustino which I assume to be langoustines or Dublin Bay prawns for $12 but when they arrive they look more like lobster (which are not allowed to be on sale this month) but they taste alright...

...and then two hours later I regret having spent $12!! Nuff said??!!

How on earth will I cope tomorrow being on a small boat with 10 other people on a long day trip??

I have to leave you again, dear readers - I´m currently on Isabela Island on day 5 of my cruise and this is the first time we´ve reached some kind of civilisation where the internet cafe computers don´t have USBs so no photos this time.

The tour company changed the itinerary and I wasn´t expecting to be here - a 6 hour sail overnight over very rough seas and I´m not a good sailor - I was very seasick yesterday too and have had to buy more seasick pills here to get me through the next leg tonight, going round the west side of Isabela to Fernandina, the island where there was a volcanic eruption in April!! Should be interesting!

Oh, and my camera´s broken - more of that another time but I fell on it and broke the lense. I am obviously heartbroken and only have batteries for my compact camera to last a short while (didn´t think I´d need the charger as it was only the backup camera). Luckily, I have made friends with an Australian lady who has kindly agreed to let me have copies of her photos from this trip else I´d have virtually nothing to remember it by.

Day 12: Coffee berries and pole dancing

After breakfast at the meeting there is a big debate about tomorrow´s hike. Which of us want to hike for 4 hours in the rain or mud or both to the Galapaguera de Cerro - the tortoise sanctuary, which of us want to go by taxi (yes, I do) and which of us want to go into town to spend the morning at the Interpretaçion Center?

I am on coffee picking duty which I am very pleased about. Now I will have done the whole process. We go out with Miguel, who is very laid back as usual about us working. We have buckets to fill but it is obvious that this isn´t going to happen as the coffee beans are up very high and are very difficult to get down.

The trail is very muddy and I am amazed to discover that the coffee trees are the very same trees we have been cutting down in the reforestation project. The ones we had to cut down had been untended and left to grow too tall and are no longer viable for picking coffee (unless you happen to over 20 feet tall)! If I had known, I would have picked all those berries from the trees I had kept cutting and bringing down to earth!

Just because we're not chopping down these trees and are pulling the branches to head height with a very long, forked stick to bring the berries into picking range doesn't mean we escape the nasties in the canopy. Some of the group still haven't learned not to look up and therfore experience fire/lion ants going up the nose or into their eyes.

Picking berries also brings out the native in us and when Miguel shows us how to paint our faces with the juices of another red berry, we all have a go. I just hope the dye isn't too permanent!

After about an hour we realise there are not too many ripe berries to pick and head back to the station. It starts to rain and it is a long trudge uphill in the heat of the day. But I'm so used to it now I don´t care about getting wet. I´m feeling so damp these days I´m sure I´m going to start growing mould.

I´m really grateful I had the foresight to bring my stay-dri bags, though I left one at home thinking I´d done overkill. I wish I´d brought that too. They keep my clothes dry because if left out overnight they are very damp in the morning - not nice to get dressed in them.

I am also glad I packed my books in proper zip lock bags. Paper, including money, feels horrible when damp and books lose their shape and go curly.

Marten has his eye on my hooked zip lock bags which originally contained my Paramo underwear. He´s hoping I may leave him a couple when I leave. He describes them as "gold dust"! Okaaaay! Though sadly I know what he means!

Being here means the things we take for granted back home like an electric light in your room, dry matches, candles, a mirror, dry bedclothes, a plug in a sink, hot showers, drinking water from a tap, not having to wear insect repellant 24/7, internet access, mobile phone signal are mod cons we can only dream of. Amazingly, the only thing I´m missing the most is dry bedclothes although I´ll be really glad when insects don´t want to bleed me dry.

Apart from these two things I´m doing just fine. The above list may sound like a giant whinge and don´t get me wrong I´ll be happy when I´m not permanently hot and sweaty but I could definately survive a bit longer under these conditions.

But back to today...

When we get back to the station , Irina and I ask for more work as we still have an hour before lunch. We are each given a broom and a jug of water and have to sweep out the "classroom" in the Casa Neuva or the "empty room", empty because nobody ever goes in there. In case you are wondering the water is to sprinkle on the concrete floor to damp down the dust so it doesn´t choke us as we sweep.

We have to do this because all the Herberts (the teachers) have been traipsing in there in their muddy boots - because of the conditions i.e. so much rain, the mud is a problem so we are supposed to remove our boots before going inside. I can't believe how much mud we clean out!

After lunch, we have an emergency job to do if we want. The Canadians are up for it as they like a bit of manual labour. In the end we all volunteer...a truck load of rock has been dumped in the road just after where the bar is to help with drainage on the road, but the workers have knocked off the day and now no taxis can get through to the station. Our job, should we choose to undertake it, is to remove the big rocks and rake the small ones into a more or less flat surface.

It´s absolutely tipping it down so we get very wet and muddy and armed with only a few shovels and bare hands it feels like we´re working on the chain gang. Nevertheless, great fun. We take an hour from start to finish to complete the task then we get the rest of the day off. Now that's what I call teamwork!

Supper is chicken, veg and coriander soup. I still can´t get used to coriander so go more or less hungry.

As tomorrow is the last day for two of the English girls, we go to the bar for farewell drinks and I teach Cesare and Belinda how to play Chinese snap. There is a forfeit for the loser - to do a pole dance...you were wondering about when that came in weren´t you? And yes, you guessed it, I lose and have to do the dance. The barman puts the lights down and shines a red one directly on me while I dance. The young Americans and Canadians are embarrassed. THEY are embarrassed?! But it seems like as a result of this, I gain the respect of at least one of the Canadians. Cesare loses the second game and I think he´s done a pole dance before!

pic: My "pole" at the farm bar - looks so harmless in daylight!

Day 11: No more ants? And team building??

I volunteer for mora cutting but it turns out to be machete tree cutting. I don´t mind either way - both are very rewarding.

It rains for most of the morning but that doesn´t stop us working. I hope the ants have already been washed out of the canopy but sadly this is not the case. I am cutting next to one girl who hasn´t machetéd trees before and she hasn´t got the knack yet. Each time she taps rather than chops, the vibrations knock down rubbish down on me. I soon realise I need to work further away from her!

I have got into my stride and have become quite proficient at chopping down trees with the minimum damage to me. Irina is quite impressed at how many I did "in one"! Hah!

We are called back to the station for a 30 minute break at 10 am but as I´ve said before it´s a long hike back up the hill and when it´s wet (did I mention it was raining?) the ground surface is very slippery either with mud or slippery sticks.

After the break it´s a long way there and back again and after a morning of wielding a machete I´m pretty tired but I´m quite impressed, if I say so myself at how much I have cleared this morning.

After lunch, Steph, the volunteer co-ordinator said we are to do team-building - football at the bar - there is a playing "field" next to the building that houses the bar. I negotiate that it´s best I don´t actually play but agree to be a cheer-leader. In the end I become the team photographer and a good time was had by all including Jesse who somehow managed to totally rip both legs on his trousers.

After supper we don´t do anything so we go to bed early after an incident involving a rat - someone saw one, someone else screamed (not me on either counts) and I got a cockroach crawl along the back on my neck before I scared it and it flew away. Not terribly pleasant though I´m not freaked out by rats, roaches or spiders (which occupy both toilets full-time scaring the pants off some female volunteers!)

Day 10: Too many or too few breakfasts??

I am on breakfast duty, which is a bummer. This is the only meal duty that requires orange picking the day before thus encroaching on our 2 hour rest time, then getting up early to prepare the juice, then washing up after everyone else goes off to prepare for the morning work and we are still expected to do morning work with everyone else.

Today´s triple-edged sword comes in the shape of the teachers and those volunteers leaving early to work on the community project.

I have to be in the kitchen at 6 am to squeeze 100 oranges with two others. It´s a boring, wrist-aching, sticky job. You have to sieve the pulp and pips. It´s a ridiculous waste of man-hours: 3 of us taking 1 hour. It´s one time when electricity surely should be used?

Remember I mentioned on an earlier posting under "Questions" that electricity is sporadic? Not so! There is electricity. The wiring probably wouldn´t pass EU guidelines but then the same could be said of mainland Ecuador from my own experience. Some lights don´t function as a result but could also be because rats are known to gnaw through the cables!

I digress...

We dish up breakfast for the first sitting at 7 am to those going off early across the island to machete mora in the community. I am surprised and they are mortified to be given one very small piece of walnut cake each and a plate of watermelon and papaya to share. To be expected to carry out a day´s work on such meagre rations generates much anger from the Canadians and American volunteers. And I can´t blame them.

When the teachers turn up along with the remaining volunteers for breakfast the volunteers are made to sit and wait while the teachers, who also get cake, eat theirs. Finally, when the teachers leave for their day´s "expedition" with Cesare, the volunteers get their breakfast...but because the cake has been already been eaten a hastily thrown together pot of porridge is cooked. There is a lot of complaining: "Why can´t we have cake?? It´s not fair!!" Seems like nobody wins on the choice of breakfast today.

I really don´t like this duty. It´s worse than being a housewife. The washing-up of utensils never seems to end (the volunteers have to wash their own dishes but breakfast duty people have to dry up) and I have wrinkly fingers by the time I´ve finished. I have to run back to the house to get changed to work in the nursery (plants, not children) but by the time I get there at 09:30 the work is done - bagging up composted soil into single pot-size plastic bags.

In the absence of Miguel, Lydia or Cesare, we sit and weed and talk. I feel sorry for Marten, the only male in the group as the tone is most definately lowered, not by me I hasten to add (for once) but by the two young Londoners.

Eventually, Lydia arrives and shows us how to cut branches off a particular endemic tree and cut each branch into foot lengths which are to be planted direct into the previously mentioned pots. A new tree will grow from each length and then each new sapling will be planted in the reforestation area where we were machete-ing trees on our first day.

We have nearly finished cutting when we are called in for lunch and this piece of work does not get finished until another day.

After lunch and our siesta we meet at 2 pm to finish what we started this morning but are told there is no more work today, and as it´s raining again we return to the house. I take the opportunity to have an early shower and catch up with my journal. I have not been doing terribly well with this as there´s so much to do and see and people to talk to.

Then there´s the bar...so after supper we walk in the mud 10 minutes down the road. While we are there, the teachers return with Cesare and he joins us at the bar and announces he´ll be away with them now until Thursday as he´s going to Santa Cruz. I need to talk to him before I leave about specifics on the station that aren´t covered by our day to day work but I´m getting the feeling this may not happen. He is a very busy man.

The music in the bar is not my thing i.e. rap, the bottles of beer are large and there´s no other choice other than rum, Coke or Fanta!!! So I head back to the station for an early night after two drinks.

I don´t know if it´s because of the booze or because I´m in a different hemisphere (just!) but I turn completely the wrong way trying to find my way out of the bar - it´s harder than it seems - there are no lights except my little head torch which I´m carrying in my hand and one path looks much the same as another...then I drop my torch and the batteries fall out and I can´t find them! I actually panic a little as although I can see the bar lit up like Blackpool, I can´t see the lay of the land - it´s just black. I could yell but despite my skills at projection I don´t think even my voice will penetrate the volume of the music.

Luckily for me, Anna, the German saw me stumbling around just before I dropped my torch and started her rescue mission. I find my batteries (no mean feat) and she points me in the right direction (I was heading towards a very steep slope just before I dropped my torch!). Three English girls walk back with me to the station and they chastise me a little for going back on my own.

For once in my life they make me feel old and stupid (okay, maybe this isn´t the first time I´ve felt stupid, but you know what I mean!!) I´m normally very independant and wouldn´t care that I was out in the middle of nowhere with a tiny torch to show me the way home but from now on, or at least walking back from the bar at Jatun Sacha, I will make sure I wait for someone else before I attempt it, at least until I get to know the area better!

Day 9: The Gardner is a Gardener

I am in pain - the sunburn on my back is killing me. After the fresh aloe vera, I thought it would be on the way to be being cured. But no! It´s very red and covered in tiny blisters at its best.


Breakfast is very rubbery scrambled eggs and bacon? and bread dried out in the oven which they call toast. Juice is packet passion fruit because Jack who was on breakfast duty with Irina didn´t get up late until 6:30 and therefore there wasn´t enough time to squeeze all the oranges. I poke fun at him that I need all the Vitamin C I can get because of my cold but it falls on deaf ears (his, not mine!)


We meet at 8 am for work allocation. I volunteer for production, which means machete work clearing the weeds away from around existing plants so they can grow better. Miguel shows us the baby plants and Irina is the star pupil naming most of them.

Miguel tells me to pick tomatoes whilst all the others do machete work. I´m not disappointed. I´m happy to be doing easier work today with my sore back. However, it´s not so easy picking tomatoes from plant after plant in the sweaty heat of the early morning. When I´ve finished, I have an orange box full of normal size tomatoes and a 5 litre water container full of cherry tomatoes.


There are green peppers and pineapples growing in the same area.

I´d quite like to go for a lie-down but I have to join the others to clear weeds and couch grass away from more mature pineapple plants and Noni plants. It´s very hot work and I´m not doing well today...remember I have a cold too...it´s hard to cut through grass with a machete.

We have a half-hour break and Jesse cuts down a huge papaya and we eat it with oranges and passionfruit.

I discover my Paramo cargo pants don´t like the serrated-edged leaves of the pineapple and I get a few snags down one leg. Still, that´s nothing compare to Irina as she cuts into her jeans and her knee with her machete. Luckily, it´s not too deep although there is blood but the wound soon sticks back together!

I now realise when you see people in documentaries working together gathering or preparing food why they sing or talk. It´s a community thing, where you gossip or share knowledge or try to put the world to rights. Unlike cleaning data (day job) where you have to concentrate, manual labour requires little or no grey matter and it´s good to talk. I am in my element! Having said that, it is so peaceful here it´s a crime to break the silence with idle (or intelligent) chit-chat!

It´s so hot and humid I´ve already abandoned my hat and it just gets in the way and my sunglasses too as it´s not that bright and they steam up when I´m working. I´d quite like to roll up my sleeves but I´d get bitten more than I am already despite my efforts at prevention.

After lunch I take to a hammock for the first time and do a little writing but as I´m feeling rather unwell, I quickly fall asleep.

Next thing I know I wake and 2 hours have gone by and I was snoring wasn´t I? Jesse is fighting hard not to laugh but within seconds he explodes with hysteria. He can´t get over the noise I made from someone so quiet (some people actually think I´m quiet?? I guess they´ve only known me a week!) Apparently they tried everything to stop me snoring but nothing worked. Jesse feels sorry for my family and Irina is grateful I have a mandibular advancement device to wear at night. She had no idea my snoring was a real problem.

At 2 pm it´s time to volunteer for the afternoon´s work. I really want something easy and I get the chance to make coffee. It´s actually quite a manual task but really rewarding. Between six of us, we make a big pot of ground coffee and it takes two hours. Jatun Sacha sell it to the homeward-bound volunteers for $10 a kilo and it tastes really good.


Afterwards, I get called to pick oranges as I´m on breakfast duty tomorrow. We have to pick 100 because of the teachers also being here. It takes three of us an hour and it´s hot and painful work due to the fire/lion ants coming down on us every time we shake the branches. We have to juice them all tomorrow between 6 and 7 am. Can´t wait!

Each meal blends into the next. Mostly it´s yellow rice, yellow because it's cooked with butter, potatoes, some kind of protein, fish beef stew or chicken, eggs, lentils or beans plus salad: raw red onions, tomatoes and cucumber, white cabbage. And always juice. I´m getting tired of it now. Citrus isn´t that kind to me so I´m drinking more water nowadays. As hot boiled water isn´t that readily available I´ve not had a single cup of the green tea I brought. Occasionally we get coffee if enough has been roasted and ground, which it has today of course.

It feels like the teachers have taken over the station. They are everywhere, ooh-ing and aah-ing over this plant or that moth or bird and some have binoculars/cameras permanently slung around their necks taking pictures of anything that moves or doesn´t.

We have a bonfire and they even take over that with their music and singing. Mind you, they are very good at it. I'm obviously just jealous. In the end, the volunteers go to bed early with the taste of sour grapes in their mouths. The teachers obviously haven´t learned the social skills required when coming to bed very late and having to keep the noise down so as not to wake the whole house. The stomp around in their muddy boots making the floors messy for us in the morning.

Everybody will be very glad when they´re gone and life here will get back to normal.

Day 8: Sunday is a day of rest, innit!

I am woken by singing, lots of people singing and I hear clunking bells. I don´t know if this is because it´s Sunday or because it´s Father´s Day but it sounds like there are a lot of people out on the street. When I get outside, there´s nobody there! It must have been the radio?

My back is very sore and I am full of cold. I didn´t bring my aloe vera after-sun so I moisturise with my LÓccitane Precious cream sample pot. It won´t go very far.

I try and write in my journal but it´s so hot already I can´t concentrate. I wake Irina at 08:20 and breakfast is a quiet affair. She didn´t get back last night until 01:40. Nobody is hung over, just hot and tired.

I know what I´m doing today, unlike the others, who are faffing for a change. I am staying in town to wander round the shops but mostly I will be writing and getting my blog up to date.

Marten has to go to the hospital to get the insect bite he picked up at the beach yesterday sorted out - his foot has swollen so he can hardly walk. They give him an injection and has to take medication. Kate is like a lobster from sitting in the sun for so long yesterday with Marten but they all head off to the beach again.

I search out an ATM as I´m getting low on cash - there have been so many hidden expenses: taxi from the airport, the hostel room for 2 nights plus all meals while I´m here. I thought we were going to be at the station all the time - I suppose it makes sense we come into town on our days off to go on other trips or go to the beaches or snorkel or whatever but it would have been nice to know that´s what happens so I could budget for it.

I sit in the Hotel Casablanca for two hours and make my very large glass of Mora juice last! At $2 I need to make it last. It is delicious and very cold. Such a shame we have to cut all these plants down up at the station but it has to be this way when you see what effect they have on the endemic species.

I see my fellow newbies wander back and forth heading for whichever beach and though I´m sad to be missing watching the seals (I knew I´d be blasé about them before the weekend was over), snorkelling with them and the turtles, I don´t regret my decision to stay in town. With my back the state it´s in, I need to be in the shade all day.

I spend 2 hours in the Mockingbird café typing up my blog but I get such a crappy keyboard my progress is slow. Eventually I have to abandon this place and find an alternative internet café to finish off what I can in the time I have.

The taxis arrive at 4 pm to take us back to the station and it´s nice to be "home". At supper, we chat about our weekend and swap stories.

My room with Irina now doesn´t have a light, nor is there one on the landing. It´s really annoying as it´s dark by 6:30 and we need torches to find anything. It´s quiet in the Casa Neuva as most people have moved houses because the teachers/scientists/biologists are coming tomorrow to stay in our house. Our room is full of others´bags and with no light they are a hazard. I´ll be glad when the teachers leave and they haven´t even arrived yet!

I ask Cesare to cut me a leaf of aloe vera for my sunburned back and I share it with Marten, whose back is burned all over - but then he did actually sit in the sun for hours whereas I was in the shade! The aloe vera is so cool, shockingly so but I have high expectations that it will sort out my burn.

Day 7: Snorkelling & Catamarans

I wake early again but with a sore throat. Feels like a cold coming.

I am ready before the girls wake and it´s quite nice that I can faff around at my own pace.

We dress for the beach and smother ourselves with Factor 500, well Factor 60 for me, and head off to meet the others at 9 am outside the Hostel San Francisco, the general meeting place for volunteers.

We have breakfast in a nearby cafe, average cost around $3 for fruit juice, coffee or tea, scrambled egg, toast. Then we go our separate ways.

Jesse, Belinda, Ann and Imogen go on an excursion to see the giant tortoises, Kelly has already flown to Isabela and won´t see her till Monday night. Kate, Marten, Irina and I have to find the supermarket to buy food for our picnic lunch and Marten and Irina have to hire snokel gear. I am pretty annoyed I was badly misinformed in Quito that this would cost $20 a day as it actually costs $3 for the weekend!

We walk in the heat to the Playa Tijèretas (or is it Carola?), just over 1 km. It is searingly hot but I am well protected with my usual clothes. My Factor 60 should keep me safe on exposed parts.
We clamber over a rough path of volcanic boulders and in front of us is a crescent-shaped sandy beach covered with sealions lying in the shallows or under the trees/shrubs or sunning themselves or playing in the water.
The beach is amazingly beautiful. There are trees to the right and the beach overlooks the port and you can see the airport but as only one plane arrives and leaves per day, this isn´t an issue.

The others are quickly in the water but as usual I´m a bit slower. But it was worth the wait. I am swimming with sealions in seconds and see my first turtle within minutes. My mask leaks as does Kate´s snorkel. She borrows Simon´s, who is just leaving the beach and I combine her mask with my snorkel so we´re both sorted.

I watch the sealions and turtles for ages then get out for something to eat. The lizards, yellow warbler and black finches are our constant companions and get really close. I sit in the shade for an hour as I don´t want to get burned in the hot, hot sun.

Irina goes back for another session in the water but I wanter up the beach to watch the boobies diving. The volcanic rocks are hot enough to cook food on so I can´t sit down. I take a few photos but these birds are too few and fast to capture. I hear a plane taxi-ing to the end of the runway. It shatters the peace but at least there aren´t that many landing and taking-off - maximum of 2 per day.

By the time we get back to town my legs are tired from all that swimming, unaccustomed as I am. It´s a long walk back.

We meet Aussie Belinda on the way who tells us we´ve all been invited by the Sharksky folk onto the catarmaran they´re looking after (long story) for a party.

Not one to pass up such an inpromptu invitation we rush back to our room to dump our stuff, no time for a shower and leave Belinda to buy booze.

We catch a water taxi to the boat and meet the rest of those from Jatun Sacha station where we spend a very enjoyable evening sitting, chatting, relaxing and getting to know those we haven´t really mixed with that much.

We pay $5 each for pizza which doesn´t arrive until 10 pm and we´re all starving. I eat so fast I get a tummy-ache. Monolo takes most of us back in shuttles in his little boat and we are accompanied back to the harbour by sealions playing in our wake.

I discover I have very bad sunburn on my back where I missed rather large patches when applying sunscreen this morning. I´ve even got fingermarks! I´m not impressed as I obviously picked this up when snorkelling. I console myself that at least I avoided sunstroke!

Day 6: The Miconia Forest and Bike Galapagos

I wake early again. I can´t get over that I´m waking before sunrise. Maybe my body clock is still on UK time?

I eventually get up at 6 am.

At breakfast we discover Matt has already left and we have a new volunteer co-ordinator: Stephi.

Cesare is taking a group up to the Miconia forest (the others go to the waterfall which is an easier hike but less interesting I think). I wear my knee brace and take hiking poles just in case, as I´m not too sure of the terrain.

We take a fair pace out of the station and up. I am coping well and am pleased my knee is holding out. The 67 year old who flew in with us struggles. She is overweight and very unfit (her words, not mine). She has to stop 20 minutes before we reach the top but she has binoculars and can watch birds while she waits for us to come back down the trail.

Cesare is a mine of information and he teaches us about the plants and gives us points when we name them when challenged. I feel like a kid getting something right, like earning a gold star, though I am not the star of this class. That prize goes to Irina or Jesse.

When we reach the top, we have an amazing view of the coast. Cesare shows us his party trick. Using the side of his index finger and by sucking on it in such a way, he makes the sound of a finch. He holds out his machete with his other arm like a scarecrow and many birds in the vicinity flock to his arm. They don´t actually land on him but they were "that" close. It is an amazing thing to watch.

We stay at the top for about 20 minutes and because Ann is waiting we go down the same way. Going downhill is not good for my knee and my pace therefore slowed right down. I also keep tripping up due to tired legs and being muddy underfoot doesn´t help.

Cesare, Negro the dog, Hannah and Chloe (London) bring up the rear with me. Turns out Ann lost patience waiting for us so went back on her own, so we could have gone back the other way after all.

We get out of our sweaty, muddy boots and clothes, repack our bags, eat lunch and are ready for the taxis at 13:30.

By the time our taxi gets into town, all the vacant rooms in the good hostels are gone. However, we find one round the corner that charges $13.50 per person per night and the owner is lovely. We have ensuite bathroom and hot shower. Luxury!

After we drop off our bags we go to the seafront which is yards from our motel and there are our first sealions. They are everywhere! We are all so excited we take so many photos. Sally Lightfoot crabs are everywhere, even a tiny sea iguana. I could watch them all day. Although there aren´t any sealions on the street there could be. Males, females, babies. I don´t want to stop watching them play, fight, swim, sleep suckle but I bet by the end of the weekend, I´ll have become blasé about them. I hope not.

I need to organise a snorkelling trip to Kicker rock and maybe a bike ride this afternoon. The folk at http://www.sharksky.com/ are a fabulous couple: Monola and his wife/partner Tina from Switzerland have an affinity with Jatun Sacha and give special deals to volunteers. Unfortunately, Kicker Rock isn´t happening this weekend as there aren´t enough people but it probably will next week. The bike ride is also full-up. Monola tells me to enjoy Puerto Baquerizo Moreno and get some snorkelling done at the local beaches.

He´s right of course, but I´m still disappointed. However, I need to spend some time getting my blog written up and posted online. I bump into a volunteer who has just left the station and she offers me her place on the bike ride plus one more. I grab a bewildered Jesse and persuade him to join me. It´s a promotional ride around town along with a group of young people to advertise biking in Galapagos. We all get a free t-shirt and drinks bottle too.

Have to say I´m very glad I´ve been "training" for this event back home. If it wasn´t for Chris, Penny, Brian and Liz, I wouldn´t have made it up the first incline (especially after my hike this morning). It wasn´t a race but I feel like I had just cycled one when we finished. I am exhausted!

We meet up with the others who had been sealion watching and arrange to meet all the newbies for a meal at 19:30. I especially want to try ceviche - a local dish made with fish or prawns. I am very disappointed. Firstly, it is expensive - $12 for a small bowl of soup with prawn in a cold gazpacho type soup, tomatoes, onions and my absolute "favourite", fresh coriander! I hate coriander with a passion and can taste even the smallest piece hidden in a salad. I eat as much as I can.

Others have pizzas enough to feed four people, so I help them out. I won´t be eating ceviche again.


After our meal we spend the next hour wandering along the seafront watching the sealions.

Absolute magic.

Irina watches a pup climb up some rocks and clamber along. It is very weak but still with no sight of his mum it just keeps going. We worry it will die but we can do nothing but watch. Nobody is allowed to touch the animals. We can just hope it will be re-united.

We get to our beds at about 23:00 and sleep comes very quickly.

Day 5: Fire Ants Are Us!

It rains a lot in the night, hammering down onto the tin roof. I wake at 1 am, then 3, 4 and finally 5 am. It´s very hot in our room even though we have no windows, only fly screens.

At 05:30 I get up to go to the loo. I try to be quiet for the sake of my two room-mates: Belinda is jet-lagged from flying via New Zealand from Australia and Irina is just tired. The latter is only 19 yet can speak excellent Spanish having only learned it for 4 weeks in Peru and Quito, German, fluent English and her native Swiss-German.

I shower at 6 am and it is bloody freezing. I want to yell but am conscious of the sleeping volunteers metres away from me. So I am brave. It´s probably the quickest shower I have ever had.

The water comes out of a hose pipe at a height of about 6 feet and it splashes everywhere so there is no escape.

Water comes from about 5 rivers, 3 of which are currently dry. Because we are in the Highlands, it is plentiful and because of this people are wasteful. There are signs everywhere to turn off the tap when soaping in the shower or scrubbing dishes or cleaning teeth. Amazingly, people still leave the water running - even in the shower!

I dress in what I think are suitable clothes for the day but I really have no idea. When my room-mates awake they tell me, when asked, I do still snore but only a little (though I have to say they were sleeping like dead people)! I am relieved nobody was disturbed by me. Unless you are a snorer, you have no idea what this means!

Breakfast is supposed to be at 7 am but because of, yes, you guessed it, the American students, we eat at 8 - fried egg, potato and fresh orange juice and coffee made from beans grown at the project. The best coffee I´ve had in a long time.

The Americans leave the station forever just after breakfast and we move out of our room to go upstairs. Irina and I decide to share and Belinda wants to move in with the newbies who have spent the night in Port.

We meet in the dining area to be given jobs to do for the morning and although everyone else has the chance to volunteer for something they would prefer to do, us 5 newbies HAVE to do reforestation, whatever that is. Guess I´ll soon find out!

During breakfast, the rest of the newbies arrive from town, including Kate. Me and the others feel like old hands already and as they are shown to their rooms they look as bewildered as we probably did yesterday. They have orientation with Matt.

We head off with Miguel to have our machetes sharpened. We are doing tree cutting with old-hands Simon (England) and Stacey (Scotland).

Cutting a tree with a machete is a daunting task but we spend the next 4 hours doing just that. It´s actually quite rewarding. We have to clear the area so the baby native plants can be planted.

It is extremely hard work and hot. When each tree is cut, you have pull it out and chop it into small lengths in order to add it to a pile which makes a natural barrier down the length of the forest.

As my first tree is felled, all the teeny tiny insects living in the canopy also come down to try and find a new home on top of my head and shoulders. When I say tiny, they are no bigger than a piece of dust and bite like crazy, feeling like a localised burn. The locals call them fire ants because that´s what they feel like. The worse thing is they keep biting until you squish them.

The hotter and sweatier you get the harder it is to find and squish the fire ants as they are swept down your body with your sweat. Those of us working in vests (not me, she says a little smugly) get bitten a lot. I have a hat, sunglasses, a Buff and a Paramo long sleeved shirt and trousers (yes, of course I have to mention Paramo again because I love it so much), wellies, sunscreen and insect repellant. I am relatively unbitten but only because I´m covered. The repellant does nothing as when they drop on you, they have no choice. I´m still very uncomfortable.

As a group we work well together and we fell a lot of trees to clear a visible space. We get through a lot of water and because 3 of the group didn´t bring water bottles on the plane yesterday, I share mine with them. By 12 noon, we stop for lunch.

Picture of Lion ant, highly magnified (this is what I think it is, not the fire ant...but what do I know!)

Over the meal, we share horror stories of how many bites we have. I just eat. I´m so hungry I could eat a pile of fire ants. We have 2 hours for siesta then we meet for our next job.

We are cutting mora. 15 of us in a line hacking away at them. It´s amazing how much can be done when everyone pitches in. This is the first experience of machete work for the other newbies but we feel like old hands now.

It´s very different to this morning´s work. We use a different action - cutting trees is a chopping action, cutting mora is slashing downwards. We have a break to eat fresh oranges off the tree, and after 2 hours hard graft we stop work.

There is a queue for the showers and by the time I get in, I´ve cooled down, so it is cold, very cold. Tomorrow, I´ll get in there quicker.

From the balcony of the Casa Neuva I see one of the staff carrying a dead pig across his shoulders heading for the kitchen. Wild pigs are a terrible nuisance here as they dig up the plants and the paths rooting for food and do a lot of damage. Pigs with special cuts in their ears belong to the neighbours so are left alone, although the neighbours are warned to keep their pigs under control. However, if a pig with no ear marks is caught, it is killed and eaten. Looks like we´ve got pork for supper tomorrow!

We have a couple of hours free before supper but by the time I´ve sorted myself out in my new room, the time has gone. It´s good now the American students have gone; the place is much more empty and quieter!

As it gets dark by 18:30, there´s not much to do after our meal, so we light another fire, mainly because it´s Matt´s last day tomorrow. We also have another cake because most of the Germans are leaving too.

I spend some time talking to Cesar, the station director sitting round the fire. He is a very interesting man.

I invent the "what´s the time" game...nobody in our group has a watch except me so as I get sick of telling everybody the time when asked, I ask them to tell me what time they think it is. The closest guesser wins and gets a point. It´s amazing how far out some people are and also how they measure the time - mostly by how long since they last ate!

I also cause havoc: I was looking for a piece of charcoal so Kaylee can draw a funny face on the sleeping Miguel. Somehow, my torch falls to pieces so I put the batteries in my pocket, except one, which I still have in my hand. I find a couple of charcoal sticks and Kaylee chooses one so I throw the excess sticks from one hand back into the fire...then the other "stick" I have in my other hand. As I throw it, too late I realise it's the other battery. I shout I have thrown the battery in the fire and everyone is immediately on their feet looking for it. A battery in the fire is really not a good thing. After reconstructing the throw, amazingly, somebody sees it in the ashes and we manage to retrieve it. I think Cesar is not going to forget my name in a hurry!

We raid the kitchen as the pig is now cooked. Miguel cuts some of the meat for us. It´s soooo good!

Tomorrow, Friday, is a day already off as the weekend starts here, so we have to get our bags ready for our trip into town - we´ll be leaving after lunch after our hike to the Miconia forest.

I decide I don´t like my new bed - I´m on the bottom bunk by choice but it´s very claustrophobic as the mozzie net hangs quite close to me and the foam mattress is sunken. And everything´s damp. It´s so humid here. I´ll need to get used to it as it´s going to be my bed for the next nearly 2 weeks.
The newbie girls next door are being extremely girlie about the spiders and moths and they make so much noise the "older" volunteers shout at them to shut the f--k up (that's "older" as they've been here longer, rather than "older" i.e. me). The rooms are divided only at wall level so sound and light carries across the whole top floor.

I go to bed at 22:00 and fall asleep quickly despite the noise from next door.

Day 4: Part 2 - This is how you use a machete!

The volunteers are a friendly bunch but as we mingle, it seems we are "us" and they are "them". This is to be expected of course, and I´m sure when the next newbies arrive, we´ll feel exactly the same, as if we´re old hands despite only being here a few days.

After lunch we are taken on orientation with Cesar, the station director. Apparently, we are lucky to have him as Matt, the American volunteer co-ordinator is leaving on Friday after being here for three months and they don´t yet have a replacement. So Cesar is taking us for orientation.

He is extremely knowledgeable, as I guess he has to be given the nature of this project. There is a lot to learn and retain. We spend the next couple of hours learning about the re-forestation project and how Jatun Sacha station works with the National Park and its neighbours to eradicate invasive and introduced flora. The Mora is the most invasive, choking all the endemic/natural species.

The plant nursery: we learn about the different plants that are grown from seeds or cuttings and are then planted out once the land has been cleared of Mora by the volunteers. Poison apple is one such plant and must be handled with care because although it´s the favourite food of tortoises, it´s not so good if you get the sap on your skin or in your eyes.

The whole point of this project is to bring back endemic species back to San Cristobal but it won´t happen until large hectares of land is cleared and it stays cleared.

The Mora looks like a cross between a blackberry and a raspberry. The young canes are upright and are covered in small thorns and a waxy white substance, like the UK raspberry, but as it grows, which is very quickly, it twists around everything in its way, choking the plant it is growing around and as it matures the thorns are even more vicious than our bramble.

There is no dormant season - it grows all year round - the berries are pink going into black and apparently taste delicious. But they have to go.

We are shown how to use a machete which is the most effective way of controlling these invaders and is least destructive to surrounding species. Those back in my home village will worry about my skill with a sharp object but as long as I follow the rules: "Never cut towards you, always cut away and make sure nobody is working within a full arm-swing´s reach of you" I should be fine.

It is brushed over that one of the German volunteers meeting us at the airport this morning had just been to the hospital having cut his foot with a machete. Apparently, his machete hit a rock and bounced back onto his foot, despite him wearing wellington boots. Wellington boots? How are they going to protect my toes from this dangerous weapon? I need steel-capped toes, don´t I?

Chopping off the Mora close to the ground and then again when/if the plants regrow will go on until the plant eventually dies. When the land is clear enough to replant, the native flora being nurtured in the station´s nursery will re-generate the area and eventually the native tortoises can be re-introduced.

Cesar shows us around the station but I get confused and don´t know where any of the paths lead. I´m sure I´ll soon find my way round.

He gives us a treat and firstly cuts down a papaya for each of us then some oranges which are good to eat together with the papaya. We are told not to swallow the papaya seeds as they do "bad things" to our intestines. Then we eat a passion fruit fresh from the vine.

The passion fruit, maracuya, is an introduced species and although it climbs over everything, it doesn´t strangle the native plants like the mora does and it provides food.

We then have 2 hours before the evening meal so head off to our room. We have no electricity in our room so it´s important we sort out our bags before dark. I´m very annoyed as I needn´t have brought my mozzie net. All the beds already have them, except Belinda´s. Using my emergency gaffer tape (the 2nd thing I´m really glad I packed that I wondered if I would ever use) we rig up her net using that and a very complicated system of string from a washing line elsewhere in the room in order to hook it round a very small nail above her window.

I don´t have a pillow on my bed so I make one out of my fleece and sleeping bag bag. I´ll be amazed if I need to use my fleece here, as despite being colder than in Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, known as "Port" San Cristobal, it´s still pretty hot. But it makes an effective pillow.

In the end, we don´t eat until 7 pm as the American students have to eat first. They´re leaving tomorrow when apparently normal service will be resumed.

After our meal, which is yellow rice, red onion and tomato salad and potatoes with sausage, followed by an orange sponge cake (we shouldn´t get used to cake as we´re only having this because of the Americans and because they have paid a lot of money to the Foundaçion) washed down with freshly squeezed orange juice diluted with boiled water (you can´t drink the water but there is plenty of water on this island despite two rivers being dried up at the moment).

A camp fire is lit, Cesar produces a guitar and the Americans and established volunteers sing folksy songs and sway. I´m not in the mood for swaying so head off to bed.

However, I change my mind about bed when some local musicians arrive to perform for the Americans (sadly nobody buys their CD). We stay around the very hot fire until about 10 pm then head to bed.

Belinda´s mozzie net collapses on her almost immediately. She is almost delirious with jet lag having just travelled non-stop from Melbourne the wrong way round the globe and both she and Irina are quickly asleep.

As the toilets (2) and showers (2 - cold) are in full view of our room, and the toilet "building" has a light, there is a lot of noise until everyone settles in for the night. Although I'm tired, I'm still so excited that I'm actually here in Galapagos. It's like a dream come true.

It is very hot and although I wriggle into my lightweight sleeping bag, I eventually stop struggling as I don´t think I´ll need to be inside it.

First impressions so far:

Jatun Sacha station is rustic - the buildings, the Old House and the New House (Casa Neuvo) are made of heavy mahogany-type wood indigenous to Galapagos but it´s illegal to cut these trees down now. Everything is very peasant-like, the stairs, benches, beds, tables, shelving, all made out of this wood.

The set-up is very laid-back but there has to be discipline - no alcohol, no music to disturb others, no toilet paper down the toilets (as it is in all over Ecuador), turn up on time and work like everyone else unless you´re sick.

The food is excellent though long-establisheds seems to be sick of rice, but I´m sure I´ll cope.

Most of the volunteers are under 30 and apart from a couple of American students (maybe they are teachers?) I seem to be the oldest with another "oldie" who arrived with me but is over-nighting at San Cristobal.

The work done here is as I expected, unlike others who thought they´d be working with animals (not sure how as there are no animals around - some wild tortoises but nowhere near the station?)

There might be work available in the form of a personal project to check the Petrel nests, counting eggs (as rats eat them) to check for activity. Although I´d like to do that, I don´t know if I have the right experience. If there's time, Cesar might let me and Marten do that.

But for now I´ll just be doing the same as my fellow newbies: learning on the job.

I use my first machete tomorrow!

(More next weekend, as I´m back off to the station in 5 minutes and will remain there until then, so no more internet cafes!)

Hasta mañana!

Day 4: Part 1 - Newbie volunteers - we have a problem!

I wake on and off after 2 am. I´m really excited. Don´t want to sleep in. My watch alarm is set for 05:30 and I´m in the shower before it´s finished beeping. I wash my hair as I don´t know how often I´ll be able to wash it once I´m at the station. I´m assuming that the shower will be basic and maybe cold so I make the most of this powerful hot one and take a few minutes more than I should.

I am first down to breakfast which I eat in 10 minutes and give myself indigestion. All I have to do is close up my rucksack after cleaning my teeth. Strangely, despite not having bought anything except a mask & snorkel I struggle to fit everything in.

Nestor, the taxi driver, arrives dead on time at 06:45 to take me to the airport. On the way he points out the Parque de Carolinas with its huge collection of orchids & carnivorous plants which, had I known about and had more time, I would like to have visited.

I meet up with Kate at the check-in. Due to a mix-up she has to fly to Santa Cruz (Baltra) and get the boat to San Cristobal so won´t arrive at the station until late. Her flight leaves before mine.

There are 10 other volunteers on my flight going to the Station and although I think I can see them all huddling in a group (like kids do at school), I am content to stay on my own just a little longer. I am reassured that one of them looks much older than me. All the rest are young...under 30.

My flight is delayed by half an hour and we're going via Guayacil. Once airborne, we are given a cheese roll and a soft drink and refreshments are barely cleared away when we´re descending fast. Quito is so high and Guayacil is at sea level, so we almost gliding down to it from Quito and the pressure plays havoc with my ears.

The woman next to me hasn´t stopped praying and crossing herself for the whole journey. I hope she gets off. There is also a loud (American?) woman further back who hasn´t stopped talking the whole time. I hope she gets off too! She doesn´t but the praying woman does! Small mercies?

As we take off for San Cristobal an hour later my ears squeak a little as we reach 34,000 feet but then I´m fine. I realise this is the first time I have flown over the Pacific. It looks bluer than the Atlantic or is that just my imagination?

We are given more food but proper "lunch" this time and I indulge in a glass of red wine as this could be the last alcohol I have in the next two weeks. We have to pack our rubbish in individual plastic bags, I´m guessing to avoid bringing in contamination to Galapagos.

At 12:05 my ears tell me we´re descending and it gets very bumpy as we fly through blue and no clouds. Suddenly I see San Cristobal through low-lying clouds. At least I assume it's San Cristobal. I´m so excited. It looks very hot out there.

The stewards fumigate the plane with harmless insecticide in spray cans as they do when landing in Australia and we land right next to the sea - I almost expect to see see-lions sun-bathing but I can´t see any. The town looks very small.

I wish I had my camera out as I want to take photos of my plane, the terminal building, the welcome sign but I'm so excited I forget.

It is very hot and sticky.

Luckily, I am quite near the front of the queue to go through Customs. I forget I have peanuts in my rucksack and when I see the dog sniffing the bags of the plane, I am worried she will find them and I´ll be in terrible trouble.

I pay my $100 entrance fee, fill in a health form, get my visitors card and I´m through. I see the Jatun Sacha sign but I need the toilets and have to collect my bags. Finally, I am greeted by representatives from the station.

There is a problem. Because there is a large group of American students at the station, there are not enough room for all of us just for tonight. They need 5 people to stay in San Cristobal town. Not me. I selfishly want to get there right now.

It´s hot, very hot. We pile into the taxi/pickup truck/ute and Jesse, the Asian lad (though he´s actually born and bred in USA) sits in the back and reminds us of Hiro from "Heroes". I sit with Irina (Swiss) & Belinda (Aussie - Parkville, Melbourne) and Marten (German) is in the front conversing in fluent Spanish with the driver.

We set out on a good, tarmacked road but soon head up into the highlands into much cooler weather and the road changes to dirt, stones and then mud. It starts to rain.

It seems weird to see exotic flowers growing at the side of the road that I´ve only seen in my Galapagos book but I guess I´ll soon get used to that.

We meet a machete-carrying, blonde German girl as we approach the station and she hops into the back for the last few hundred yards. She has been clearing Mora all morning.

As we drive into the station, the volunteers are about to eat lunch. None of us, when asked want to eat as we had food on the plane, but we get food anyway - fried fish, rice and coleslaw, washed down with juice of some kind. Somehow we manage to eat it all up. If this is typical of the food here, we´re all going to get very fat!

(and now I need to save this post and change terminals - the keyboard on this computer has many stuck keys and my fingers are sore from having to bang them to get this blog typed up. This internet cafe sells exceptionally good Mora icecream! I´m in San Cristobal town this weekend of the 19th-21st June but have been so busy I haven´t had much time to get my journal written! More later, if I have time before we head back the station at 4 pm - Sunday.)

Day 3: Quito - Next time get a decent map!

It´s raining heavily as I go to breakfast at 06:30 but it´s stopped by the time I go out for the day. The temperature is much cooler than yesterday and maybe I should have worn a warmer shirt but I risk it.

I still have no plans for today other than get to the offices of Jatun Sacha by 3 pm. I find an internet cafe and spend the next hour typing up Day 2 and somehow lose the lot just as I am about to publish it. I swear a lot especially if you know how fast a typist I am. Still, second time around give me the chance to edit it. The only good thing about the first hour is I get to charge up my mp3 player.

I go to the Magic Bean for a consolation cappuccino and chocolate covered doughnut before heading back to a more reliable internet cafe i.e. the one I was in yesterday.

I appreciate the quality of Ecuadorian coffee and realise after the first taste that making it into cappuccino is a waste - this is my first and last cappuccino...in Ecuador, not in the world!

One of the attractions of travelling on one's own is being able to do what you want when you want and being able to change any plans at a whim. I wonder what to do today and decide to just wander and see where that takes me - sometimes it's the best way to explore - but might instead just chill out in a variety of cafes getting buzzed out on coffee. There are enough of them near the hotel. However, as the Jatun Sacha offices are a bit of a hike away but in the opposite direction to yesterday I have to be careful on the timing of my walk - I need to factor in the "getting lost" factor.

I spend nearly 2 hours re-typing the lost blog and finishing Day One that I couldn´t finish in Madrid, then conscious of the time I head out at 1:45 pm.
I find my way quite easily and it´s a pleasant walk...but no shops. I pop into a corner shop to buy 2 packs of tissues and get charged a total of $2 - the label said $0.40 cents. How do I challenge that when I can´t speak Spanish. Off the top of my head I can´t even remember the Spanish for "forty". I think I just gave her too much money i.e. $5 so she obviously thought "tourist who can´t speak a word of Spanish and has too much money - fair game"?

I put it down to experience...the experience list is getting rather long!

But I´m a relatively quick learner and further on I buy a 2 litre bottle of water and hand over a one-dollar note and get $0.20 change. That's more like it!

The map I was given at the hotel tells me I´m almost at my destination but I cannot see the road in real life. I´m find myself in a pretty poor area, and although I´m not scared I´m aware people are staring at me more than in the middle of the city. I try not to give too much eye contact but as I get closer I realise the Jatun Sacha offices are as elusive as the Yacu Amu offices were yesterday. The spot on the map where the road is supposed to be is covered with symbols of restaurants, shops etc, etc.

I have to ask somebody. Soledad said yesterday, "Just ask. It´s near the university campus - everyone will know this street," so I ask some students where the road is. Silly me! They´re students with their heads either in their books or their ipods or boys/girls. They are as useless as a chocolate teapot. Even a local taxi driver can´t tell me so what chance have I? He knows it´s "somewhere over there" but can´t help me more. He won't even drive me there before it's "that" close.

I'm getting desperate and go into the University book shop. After a bit of discussion with his colleagues, the assistant actually walks me there. It was just round the corner from where I'd been asking for directions but unless you went past the university you wouldn´t know it was there. At least I was only 10 minutes late.

I anticipate a whole room of volunteers sitting there waiting for me to turn up but there is only one person: Kate from Lancashire and later on an American girl arrives (but she isn´t noisy so I forgive her!). Kate and I are both going to San Cristobal and the quiet American is off to the highland rainforest on mainland Ecuador.

We are briefed about what to expect and it´s as much as I already knew. However, we are told we don´t need wellies as the project has them. That´s a relief as I´m not sure how I would fit them in my rucksack.

We are told the sea is warm and it will be "hot" maybe 23 to 30 degrees C and not as cold as Quito at night. There are a great many small mosquitoes (midges?) so a mosquito net for the head must be worn. I hope to goodness my insect repellent works like it says on the bottle.

We watch a video made by past volunteers and suddenly it´s all very real. I can´t believe that this time tomorrow I´ll be there.

Kate and I go with her driver (she has a driver? How come I don´t get a driver?) to a sports shop near her hostel to buy a mask and snorkel for $12. We were told it would cost $20 a day to hire these in San Cristobal so it makes sense to buy them now. Pleased with our purchases we find a restaurant on Av. Amazonas which serves authentic Ecuadorian food and I have a delicious cheese chowder (soup) with avocado which would have fed 3 people...but the waiter lied when I asked him how big the bowl was so ordered a main course too. When I have to leave half the chowder knowing I have another course to come I know I will be defeated even before it arrives: 2 fried eggs (runny) on corncakes with salad and chorizo. It looks like a face so Kate takes a picture and I will post it on here when I can work out how to download photos onto the internet cafe computers (they appear to have some sort of block on my card reader but I WILL NOT be defeated!)
I can´t even eat half of my meal and feel really bad at so much food going to waste - the waiter knew what he was doing of course - my bill, with a glass of quite nice red wine is $10.45. A lot of money compared to all my previous meals - if I´d known I would have only ordered soup. Another lesson learned! Oh dear!

I leave Kate at her hostel and as it´s now dark (7 pm) I walk with purpose without the aid of my map back to my hotel. Who needs a map when you know where you´re going?

I repack my bags, write up my journal and head down to reception to see if I can post this tonight. This could be the last time I can get to the internet before the weekend when I have my first days off. No such luck. The internet is down so I give up and go to bed. Maybe there´ll be internet at the airport??

Day 2: Quito and Stranger Danger

"My name is Susan," I tell Marco.

Next thing I know Marco wants to show me the beautiful buildings. I tell him thanks but no thanks as I´m going to have lunch now.

He tells me he used to be a teacher until he broke his leg 2 months ago in a motorbike accident and he lost his job and it would be his pleasure for him if he could practise his English. Somehow he persuades me to go with him to a very cheap, very clean restaurant just round the corner.

I realise if I was to do a runner now I would quickly lose him in the crowds, but I´ve not even started looking round this area and the thought of bumping into him again...something makes me stay. Call it instinct or call it stupidity. I follow him to a local restaurant full of local people and although a few people stare at me, because I am with Marco they soon settle down. We join a lady at her table and she smiles at me.

Marco arranges for us to have a delicious 3 course meal, very similar to what I had at the hotel last night, except I now have fish = $2.50 for the lot!
Over lunch, Marco tells me about himself and I believe him to be genuine. As he talks, I realise I am going to have pay this man to be my guide for the afternoon, after all, he has a living to make. I kick myself slightly for falling for his sales pitch but I don´t feel threatened by him. On the contrary, I feel safer with him.
He takes me inside some of the most beautiful buildings, most buildings most tourists would never venture into. He is very knowledgeable though of course he could be bull-shitting (am I allowed to say that on blogspot? Guess I´ll soon find out!)

We go into a Catholic church - he tells me there are over 40 churches in the Centro Historico - I know this already - and this one is particularly beautiful but we are not allowed past the entrance. I am not too bothered by the presence of many men and women dressed in black - maybe a funeral is about to take place? I see enough without having to go in but instead Marco takes me to another church. There is so much gold; everywhere I look is covered in gold. I feel uncomfortable being surrounded by so much wealth in such a poor country. There is a service going on and I insist we leave.

I tell Marco I want to go back to my hotel in one hour as I have a headache (this is true) but he wants to take me to one more place. It is onto the rooftop of another old building that now contains a bank and several other businesses and there is a restaurant on the roof. It was worth coming up here for the panoramic view of the city and the mountains stretches for miles. I order us a beer and am disappointed it is imported Corona = expensive at $3 each but worth it for the view alone.

The restaurant owner introduces himself and speaks American English as he lived in Florida for many years where he also had a restaurant but lost everything in a hurricane. He invites me to the grand opening on Wednesday night. I explain I will be in Galapagos by then. Maybe next time, and gives me his business card. He gives us freshly cooked apple dumplings, though I am still full from lunch. Marco takes his away for later.

As the sun begins to set, I get cold and tell Marco I am now going back to my hotel. He begs me to stay longer and invites me to his house tomorrow. But now I´ve had enough and am annoyed that he has overstepped the boundary. He hails me a taxi back to my hotel and I say goodbye. We both know we will not meet again.

I know, I know. Most of you will be wanting to chastise me and you would be right to do so. I know I have broken my own golden rule - never get involved especially when travelling - walk away. I was asking for trouble and could have found myself in all sorts of difficulties. Despite what you might think reading this, especially if you are my daughter, my instinct told me otherwise. In meeting Marco, I had assessed the situation in a few seconds:

1) This little man was on crutches and I could get away at any time;
2) He spoke very good English and was very polite;
3) If he wasn´t going to rob me he could protect me with his crutches from one who might want to;
4) I got a cheap, authentic lunch thanks to him;
5) He told me more about Quito than I would have learned on my own;
6) I saw more of the buildings and than being on my own.

Of course, there were disadvantages:

1) It cost me $20 plus a couple of expensive beers that I hadn´t budgeted for, though he didn´t ask me for either;
2) I felt I´d lost half a day going round more of Quito than I´d planned;
3) I hadn´t come here to be with other people - I wanted to be on my own, to write, to look, to observe, not to spend half a day talking to a stranger;
4) I could have put myself in danger.

But weighing it all up, I got away with it and I have learned from my experiences, good and bad more than if I had walked away.

There´s not much I can do to avoid looking a tourist but if the same thing happens to me tomorrow, I promise I will definately walk away. I may even buy myself a cheap, gold ring and say my husband will be joining me soon...
By the time I get back to my room I have an altitude headache from hell, a sore throat and no appetite so I get into bed and turn on the TV to drown out the new noisy arrivals. No need to say what nationality they are! I watch Mission Impossible and try and relax my headache away. After 30 minutes I give up and take painkillers.

I turn out my light at 8 pm after the movie ends, and as it´s still quite early don´t feel I can shout at my neighbours to shut the f--k up (I probably really can´t say this on blogspot without the censors telling me off). They go out. I sleep. They wake me when they return at 11 pm. My head still hurts so I put on my music but this time it doesn´t help. I switch it off and sleep fitfully until 3 am when the headache finally goes.

I contemplate writing to Barack Obama about how annoying his citizens are when abroad; instead when I get up at 05:30 I make as much noise as I can. I am very satisfied to hear they, like their predecessors had a bad night. I hope it´s the effects of altitude rather than my snoring as I´m going to be in deep sh-t (trouble) on Galapagos sharing a dorm with a load of others or sharing a twin cabin on the boat or maybe disturbing all the passengers! I really, really hope my anti-snoring thingy actually does work!