Back to basics in beautiful Cabo Polonio

Expectations were running high for our trip to Cabo Polonio although precisely what we were expecting was hard to pin down.  Our primary reason for going there was for Louis to have an adventurous and memorable 9th birthday.

You read about how there is no internet, no mains electricity or water and no roads, so you can only reach Cabo Polonio by a dune-riding 4x4. But in some way, focusing on what isn't there is a distraction from its real value.  People are there because they love being there, and its easy to see why. The two beautiful sandy beaches are joined by a rocky point, marked by a lighthouse and home to one of the largest sea lion colonies in South America.  The beaches are set at about 45 degrees to each other, so you are never far from the sound of crashing waves. Small colourful shacks, no two the same, dot the grassy landscape, seemingly in random positions, with the exception of those alongside the sandy path that passes as “main street.”  They all have a rustic and dated feel to them thanks in part to the Uruguayan government forbidding new builds. 

Cabo Polonia from the lighthouse

"Main street!"

The locals here - about 70 apparently - exude a certain calm and contentment. You hear varied stories of how people ending up here.  For example, someone who used to visit as a child and always yearned to return; a lawyer who jacked it all in mid-career and set up a charming little restaurant with pasta sauces better than we've ever tasted; a surf teacher who has lived and surfed all over the world but prefers to live and surf here; passing backpackers who decided to come here and set up a hostel of their own; and people born here who just never found a good enough reason to leave - everyone has a story to tell. 

And at this time of year, at least, it is peaceful and quiet - high season doesn't start for another month, so quite a few places are still closed. There's just one little convenience store, thankfully with a green flag fluttering high above it so you can orientate yourself, where you can get fruit, veg, water and other essentials for preparing your own meals.

Hostels on the beach

Cosy room with sea view!

We stayed at Cabo Polonio Hostel, a quaint, charming old place on the beach, some hammocks outside and an assortment of memorabilia to attest to the years of backpackers passing through. The small TV set on the sand dune in front is a reminder that this is indeed, "something completely different." There is a laid-back feel to the place, and the long wooden table outside encourages conviviality and sharing of travel stories amongst backpackers and staff alike. Somehow the gas-powered shower is all part of the charm, even though you irrationally fear it might explode at any moment when it’s lit. 
There is a tiny primary school with one teacher serving the five primary school age children that live here. Watching our boys writing their journals at the table in the open fronted hostel, occasionally looking to the sea for inspiration or distraction, gave us a momentary insight into the appeal of school here. 

The safari style 4x4s

We’ve not seen more than half a dozen people on the beach at once, perhaps less a reflection of the weather and more an indication of how few people there are here, even including those passing through.  The exception is when the big 4x4 safari style trucks occasionally rumble onto the beach, the occupants waving and cheering when they pass you, reminiscent of a school outing for some very lucky children. 

It has been a special five days for our family here. Ambling along the beach on long walks together, some lazy hammock time, some homeschooling (even in Cabo Polonia, sorry kids!) swimming and jumping in the waves, enjoying surfing lessons and sand-boarding, climbing - and drawing - the lighthouse, watching the sea lions play, whilst getting to know new people that both come and go as well as reside here. 

The highlight was Louis’ 9th birthday. After waking in our double bunked-dorm, and wishing Louis Happy Birthday, followed by a dozy rendition of the song, we opened a few small presents we’d picked up in a store in Montevideo.  Luckily, Sebastian, who worked at the hostel, had been able to arrange both a sand-boarding lesson and a surfing lesson, as we’d hoped.  Louis surprised even himself by remaining on his feet for much of both. To cap it all, the lady next door even managed to bake a lovely peach and chocolate cake for Louis at a day’s notice.  The candlelight rendition of Happy Birthday that evening as we brought Louis the cake at the table outside is one of his many happy memories from the day.

Louis’ memorable and adventurous birthday had been achieved, and he is busy writing his version!

"The museum of the children"

We visited a very unusual place in Buenos Aires called "Museo de Los Ninos"- the Museum of the children.  The first thing that strikes you is the price - not unreasonable in itself, but its the only time we could think of where the entry fee is more for children than for the adults, a good early indicator that this is a very child-focused place!

The Museum is basically a huge indoor area where they have created a variety of work environments so that children can pretend to do the jobs that adults do in a really fun way - everything from driving a bus, working in a shop or bank, being a dentist, to media and sports roles. It's designed in a very colourful, interesting and informative way that had the children running off from one place to another in search of ever greater excitement. 

Career choices at present are somewhat early in being defined and change from one week to the next, and often revolve around transport.  The other day we heard dustbin men looked cool because they get to hang off the back of trucks. That fell out of favour somewhat when they went on strike though.  Frankie considered the idea of being a taxi driver, because you meet a lot of people, but then discounted this on the basis he might get carsick. Then being an Aqua taxi driver looked great, because you get to drive a boat! This week we've discovered the on-line Coffee Shop Game which has got them thinking about all sorts of businesses of their own they might want to run.  

So here are a few of the fun role plays that the boys got up to.

Working in a bank, although probably not popular because they may have picked up on  Daddy's comment on all the charges for overseas transactions and how difficult it is to get money when we are travelling!

Next please!

Driving a bus, where Louis pretended to be a passenger with lots of questions.......

I'm sorry, I haven't got any change......

A few that the boys' dentist would be proud of (but has it helped them brush their teeth more rigourously morning and evening?)

Firstly role playing receptionist and patient.........

Patient - I'm going to die in 51 seconds.....Receptionist - Could you just wait a minute please?

Then getting into the real action

You must get into all the crevices.....

Say AAAAhhhh!

Spending time in the media area, the boys got a chance to be behind the camera......

As well as in front of it

And even doing some directing too!

Frankie added, briefly......

We had just arrived at our destination.  We went through this thin path and on the way up we saw lots of strange mirrors, we pulled funny faces.  We got up and first thing we did was hopping in and out of taxis.  Some of the other things that we did were pretending to be a builder in a gingerbread house and going as fast as you can in a shopping market.  You could also be a bankman and a dentist.  So we had a good time but then it was time to go back.

Animals we have ......nearly seen

We thought about having a new blog tab with this name, because we are developing a knack for missing animals.  So the first entry under this would, I guess, be the Jaguar we nearly saw in the Pantanal a couple of months ago that we reported on.  And then more recently, when we got to La Paloma, we were hoping to see the last of the Southern Right Whales, but we were reliably informed on arrival that it was three weeks since one had been seen.  Here at Cabo Polonio its the same situation, although to be fair that’s hardly surprising since we are only 100km up the same coast.

So whereas most people can show you photos of spurting whales, or graceful tails waving in the sea, we, on the other hand, can show you a photo of the unspoiled sea.

A whale was here three weeks ago.  A really big one. 

Also under this section, we should probably include the animals we witnessed on the beach at La Paloma, which, as Frankie can attest (in English and Spanish!) included four dead birds, one dead sealion, two dead penguins and a dead armadillo. 

Given our hitherto almost fruitless search for a penguin colony, this might also be a place to mention the inappropriately named “Los penguinos’” on Isabela, in the Galapagos, given that we actually only saw one penguin on the entire island. Maybe it’s plural on the basis that given you pass the island on the outward and return journey, we saw a penguin on the way back too, but it was clearly the same one. Maybe it was nailed there. 

El Penguino at Los Penguinos

We're heading for Puerto Madryn and Puerto Deseado in Southern Argentina soon, where we have a good chance of seeing whales and penguins. So they almost certainly won't end up on this page.  Fingers crossed. 

Two reasons the boys didn't like Montevideo.....

Louis and Frankie weren't too sad to see the back of Montevideo. 

Firstly, Louis lost Lemmie, his little fluffy ring-tailed lemur keyring toy that Grandma had given him before we left.  Frankie had Rudi, another lemur, and the boys whiled away many happy hours on long journeys playing with these guys. Louis had taken to giving Lemmie a more independent experience lately, so for example on the previous day, Lemmie enjoyed a long coach journey attached to the curtain, by his seat.

You can just see Lemmie's tail on the seat next to Louis.......

And on the fateful day, Lemmie was in fact enjoying his own seat in a dodgem car beside his master, when sadly Louis, in his excitement to get out and tell us about the dodgems from his perspective, left poor Lemmie behind.  In fact we have a picture of Louis and Lemmie's final happy moments together.

About 30 minutes later, we were walking along La Rambla, a pleasant area of grassland separating the coast from the city, when Louis suddenly shouted out "Oh, no!"  He was in tears before we could even find out what was wrong, and as he explained and we began to retrace our steps, he felt it was a hopeless task. On the way back we tried to give Louis some hope, I thought it was a great opportunity for an impromptu lesson in probability, and we eventually reasoned together that there was only a 20% chance that he was still where he'd left him, 40% chance that he had been taken, and kept, and a 40% chance that he'd been found and handed in.  That gave us a better than evens chance that we'd find him. 

Well regardless of the apparent favourable probability, we searched thoroughly, even looking back at the photos to ensure we searched the right dodgem, but to no avail.  We had to be content with the fact that if someone had gone to the lengths of keeping him, it was probably a child that really liked Lemmie and would look after him very well. Not much comfort, but the best we could do in the moment.

We were walking along together looking for Lemmie, and I looked ahead and could see that the whole area ahead had been cordoned off.  The cordons were simply made up from scaffolding poles. A policewoman explained that there was a Nike 10k running event taking place later.  It happened so fast but as I looked across at Frankie, I shouted "Frankie watch out!" Too late.  He walked straight into one of those metal posts, face first.  Ouch. Poor Frankie, who was already upset on Louis' behalf for Lemmie, and now had another reason to cry.  

It certainly wasn't Montevideo's fault. But if you happen to be there, let us know if you see Lemmie.......

Welcome to Huuurrrgh-uguay

The idea of a one-hour ferry to get from Argentina to Uruguay seemed simple enough.  OK we knew you don’t take the Buenos Aires to Colonia boat for the views, but it’s nevertheless an expedient way to get to Montevideo at less cost and with less time on the water.  The latter point proved to be an important distinction.

broken traffic lights didn't help at a major crossroads

I suppose on reflection, preceding events could have been a warning sign.  Last night, over 500,000 people gathered peacefully around the iconic Obelisk in the main square in Buenos Aires to protest against the President, Cristina Kirchner. Rubbish has been piling up in the street this week while the dustbin men are on strike. Yesterday had been the hottest day of the season so far at 37 degrees.  Today began at a mere 30 degrees until about 11am, and then as a storm hit the capital, with torrential downpours flooding the streets, temperatures plummeted to 18 degrees in little over an hour. 

Tricky to get to your car with dry feet......

11 lanes of stationary traffic

The capital was as close to gridlock as I’d ever seen any city, even our taxi driver was getting frustrated. As the minutes (and the meter) ticked by, I gradually realised that first our time contingency, then our one hour check-in time allowance for the boat, was rapidly being eaten away.  What should have been a 20 minute cab ride took well over an hour, and as I admitted to the driver about an hour into the journey, I didn’t have enough to pay him from that point forward, even though we were still twenty minutes away, by his estimation.  I was warmed by the fact that he nevertheless took us to our destination, and continued our friendly conversation as if nothing had happened. (Another reason why my entry earlier this week “Reasons to like Argentina” wasn’t a coincidence.)

The taxi driver said he’d heard on the radio that all crossings to Colonia and Montivideo had been suspended pending a revised meteorological statement expected at 4pm.  OK that should have really rung warning bells, but at the time we were more concerned about getting to the boat.  We arrived at 14:05 for the 14:15 crossing, and were the last ones on, they processed the paperwork with good humour, without any tutting or judging. (I’m late a lot so I’m familiar with human reactions to lateless.)

We got on the boat, there were plenty of spare seats, especially near the front.  We were somewhat reticent about being too far forward, given the greater movement, however the boys were keen, as you had a great view of the sea, and besides, we’d been right at the front on the outdoor deck 10 days ago on a boat trip in the Galapagos and had a memorable time (albeit in beautiful sunshine and on a calm sea.) so how bad can it be?

After no movement for about 30 minutes, the captain walked around and explained that Colonia Port was closed, owing to the weather conditions.  I’d said to the boys, following a cursory glance at the map, and in the hope of reassuring them, that we were crossing what was essentially more of a river than the sea, so it probably wouldn’t really be very wavy.   Eventually, after about 2 hours, they prepared to leave, which must have coincided with the revised meteorological report the taxi driver had alluded to.  Did I imagine it, or was the safety briefing uttered in more grave tones than you might expect?  Certainly looking around me there was rapt attention to her every utterance (even though we didn’t understand most of it.) I glanced down at the lifejackets, which of course are situated under your seat.  They appeared to be wrapped in copious loops of cellophane, like those suitcase wrapping services you see in some airports, and it got me wondering about how easy and indeed how long you might struggle to unravel that in the heat (not to mention gushing water and utter chaos) of the moment.

At first it seemed like fun

another wave came crashing over the bow

As we set forth and motored slowly past a series of other docks, we started to rise and fall even though there was no discernible swell at that point.   Then a few minutes later, the engine note rose appreciably as indeed did the bow of the boat. For a while it was fun.  “Oooh look Daddy, at all those white horses on the waves” remarked Louis, observing the water.   Frankie was already looking like he’d be nodding off imminently, a skill he has been honing over several recent boat journeys. As Buenos Aires receded in the distance behind us, I surveyed the scene.  There was a faint rainbow ahead, set in threateningly dark thundery clouds, above an unusually brown sea.  The waves were coming at us slightly right of centre. I’d be lying if I said 60 foot waves, they didn’t seem vast, but perhaps the speed of the boat going over them was what made the Colonia Express seem to leave the water every time it went over a wave - you felt airborne - and then come crashing down with a resounding metal clunk as it hit the water.  And we are talking a ferry boat that carries maybe 200 people, not a little pleasure cruiser here. It genuinely felt like some kind of bizarre rollercoaster ride, but with a definite edge of unpredictability. No waving your hands in the air though, you had to work quite hard with feet and hands just to make sure you stayed in your seat.

Around the boat you could start to hear the groaning, and occasionally (sorry) a familiar splashing (sick bags were curiously offered round not long before we entered the harbour at the end!).  Louis was looking white but said he was OK.  I thought I’d try and take a photo, but realised I was pretty much pinned to my seat with the motion of the boat.  I felt moving anywhere risked being thrown across a row of chairs.  

One of the stewards had made his way up to us at painstakingly slow pace, waiting for a lull between wave sequences before attempting to move up one row.  He said we must move back further in the boat. What had started out as fun now felt serious, as it wasn’t obvious how we’d move the boys with the unpredictability of the boat movements. The steward first took Louis and they made their way very slowly back. He returned a few minutes later, confirming to us that Louis was OK and gestured for me to pass Frankie to him, who was sitting on my opposite side to where the steward was. It had already got decidedly rougher in the intervening minutes. 

I picked Frankie up and lifted him over my knees while I was sitting, and it must have coincided with the bow dropping over a wave, but Frankie was suddenly light as a feather and nearly flew out of my hands!  I think he said “Whheeeee” or something, but he nearly got more of a flight than he was expecting. Frankie was then kneeling on the floor in front of his seat, facing back and clinging on to his own seat, with both me and the steward holding him there, as well as holding ourselves in place as the boat continued its relentless rise and fall, waiting for some respite where we could maybe attempt to move him. Frankie sensed the seriousness and looked across at Jules for reassurance.  She continued the rollercoaster theme to make light of the situation so that Frankie didn’t get scared. 

Frankie, as usual, manages to fall asleep

As this didn’t come we decided to try and go all three of us together very gradually half crouching, holding on to anything permanent to keep us from being thrown around. Any consciousness of looking stupid, which we very probably did, was superseded by an acute awareness of the dangerous things in our vicinity - smashing ones head on a huge metal cylindrical column that I hadn’t noticed before, or getting impaled on a very thin armrest, for example!  A slight lull enabled us to put Frankie safely in a seat next to Louis, midway along the boat, and I joined the two of them as the steward made his way over to Jules, who was now the sole occupant of the front half of the boat. I felt somewhat torn as her head bobbed around from where she was to see how we were getting on and presumably to remind the steward that she was still there. He ventured over and slowly rescued her to a seat near ours. Here in the middle of the boat, the movement wasn’t nearly as bad, but people were still being ill.  Eventually I could see land in the distance and reassured Louis (Frankie was asleep) that we were very close to our destination. 

I tried to take Louis’ mind off the journey as he was still understandably looking peeky.  “Do you think they will do that message at the end, Louis, where they say something like “‘Thank you for choosing Colonial Express.  We hope you enjoyed your journey!’”

They didn’t as it happened, but whereas normally when you reach your destination, everyone is rushing to get off, it was almost as if no-one had anywhere to go.  The boat had stopped, but people just sat there, shell-shocked.  You sensed a desire to talk to each other, about the experience they’d shared.  Some were still being ill, some were just gathering the strength to get up. There was something of a melee of bags in the aisles, as many had been thrown around. 

We were amongst the last to leave, as we were changing the boys shoes.  (They’d got their feet soaking jumping in puddles earlier).  The captain came by and asked how we’d got on - he said there had been 60kph winds that hadn’t helped them and that the crossing had been rough, but never dangerous. We made our way back on to dry land. The coach journey to Montevideo that followed was going to be a piece of cake after that!

(10th November)

Reasons we like Argentina No. 1 - Acts of kindness

Our first impressions of Argentina are being positively shaped by a series of unconnected acts of kindness in our first day out in Buenos Aires. 

We were on a bus to "Tecnopolis", a family-oriented technology exhibition on a campus the size of Legoland, just outside the city. It's not the best of areas, and we asked a girl sitting next to us on the bus if she'd mind letting us know when to get off the bus.  She said she was heading there herself so we got off together, and then advised us to get some street food because its cheaper outside than in the exhibition, so we took her advice.  We later saw her working in the Maths section - a building the size of a small aircraft hangar devoted to maths related games - and she took quite some time to show the boys around and explain how the games worked.  This was very useful as she spoke a little English too and all the exhibits were Spanish only. 

Louis and Frankie slug it out in 3D noughts & crosses.....

Frankie attracts quite a crowd after beating Louis and Daddy too!

We bought our hot dogs at a little stall outside the exhibition, as the girl we met, Nadia, had suggested.  No processed frankfurters here, but a full-on rugged chorizo sausage - complete with onions and a special spicy sauce which looked like an old family recipe, all for the equivalent of 75p. The lady owning the stall, who'd explained she only does this at weekends as she has a week job - very kindly assembled some stools in the shade for us to sit, where she had been standing, so that the boys weren't in the direct sunlight (it was a very sunny 30 degrees) and also poured us a glass of chilled water each, for which she wouldn't accept any money. 

Great chorizo hotdogs in the shade

After the exhibition, we'd been waiting for nearly an hour for a bus back into town, it was Sunday night, so there weren't as many buses, and several jam-packed ones had gone straight past.  There was about 40 people at our stop, many of whom wanted the number 111  bus, just like us. We got on the bus on the way back, when it eventually arrived.  Although I had carefully ensured I had enough coins to pay for the family in the "coin-only" machines, the return journey back into town from where we were was mysteriously double the outbound one. As I was discussing this with the driver in my broken Spanish, with a very long queue snaking behind me waiting to get on, the lady next in line offered to pay the 6 pesos I was short using her bus card, and turned down my offer of cash to pay her back. She did this in good spirits rather than out of frustration. 

Later that journey back, we struck up conversation with a lady standing next to us and were discussing our trip, Buenos Aires in general, her visit to England some years ago, and the boys, and she took time to explain in detail where to get off the bus so that we didn't get lost on the way back, as it was 9pm by now and dark.

Finally we stopped for a bite to eat on the way back as the boys had only had a hot dog since breakfast, and we found a decent, good value meal at this little cafe just around the corner from our Hostal.  At the end of the meal I remembered I'd needed to get to a cashpoint, which turned out to be broken.  The waiter said not to worry, come back on Tuesday and get the kids to bed!

The people we met made us feel very welcome, particularly when they find out we are from England, and gave us a strong impression of the importance of family to them.

(4th November)

Reasons we like Argentina No. 2 - cheap local wine

We've finally had our first bottle of wine, after 10 weeks, 6 days and - well we've crossed too many timezones to work out the hours!   Admirable abstinence for the sake of the children and the travel budget? Well no, not really.  It has been similar to when Jules was first pregnant and I decided to go on the wagon to make it easier for Jules. Well, similar in principle, at least, although on that occasion the abstinence was measured regrettably only in hours, not days and weeks.

No, the simple truth is that to date, at over £20 per bottle for a very modest imported wine, it has been a luxury not worth paying for in Brazil and Ecuador, although the odd beer has been within our reach.  However, here we are in Buenos Aires and yesterday, we paid under £3 for a very passable bottle in a restaurant!!

Salud!

I didn't have a camera to capture the moment, however here's one that's "similar!"

(10th November)

Life in the mostly congested lane

We've spent quite a bit of time in taxis to and from airports in recent days - Lima, Sao Paolo and later on this evening, no doubt, in Buenos Aires.

When we landed in Lima airport, in Peru at 11pm, it was a madhouse. Fortunately we’d arranged on this occasion for someone to pick us up to take us into the city.  One after another well groomed men, oozing trust and brandishing their taxi credentials, offered us the obvious safe haven of a taxi in their care. We focused on looking out for a “Bader” amongst the dozens and dozens of little placards being waved around.  The crowd seemed intense and noisy and it dawned on us that there might be something unusual going on.  We learnt from one of the security staff that there was a pop artist, Chino, passing through imminently, hence the hundreds and hundreds of people, mostly girls, crowding the exit routes both in and outside the airport. 

Funny, but it seems the more you are in a rush to get to the airport, the more likely you are to get stuck in traffic, as we were on the way to leave Peru. It was one of those journeys that reassure you that you did the right thing to abandon any self-drive options.  Our driver, "Taxi Willy," as it said on his business card, was a friendly and personable guide who really knew how to handle a car.  I remember this distinctly, because that's exactly what I wrote in the visitor's book that he asked me to sign - another travel first - during a spell of particularly bad traffic near Lima airport.  It was a very well-thumbed A3 landscape book, with literally hundreds and hundreds of entries, all seemingly pretty complimentary, judging from the ones that I read. He was about 60 and had had his own advertising business when he was younger, but the business failed in the days of hyperinflation and economic crisis in the late 1980s, hence his current career. He took it all in his stride and was clearly at home in the environment of missed deadlines in heavy traffic, the frequent slamming of brakes, last second lane changes, and the chaotic melody of honking horns.

And here we are now on the way to Sao Paolo airport with plenty of time to spare ahead of our flight to Buenos Aires and ironically the traffic is moving freely.  Nevertheless, we are weaving in and out of cars at 80mph on the appropriately named Ayrton Senna freeway with a young taxi driver, who has displayed his generosity twice already by dispensing some helpful advice on lane discipline to a motorbike and a car. It's quite impressive, even if a little disconcerting, that he manages this between checking his mobile phone, following the sat nav and watching TV, yes TV, on a small 6" screen to the right of the steering wheel, (apparently for the benefit of the boys in the back).  There's scarcely room for the credit card swipe machine and of course the taxi meter.

Reflecting on those two experiences, it made me wonder.  There are old taxi drivers and there are bold taxi drivers...........

Paragliding over Lima

Last week we were in Lima, on a brief one day stopover en route to another brief one day stopover in Sao Paolo, before re-establishing our journey south through South America that we were on before the Galapagos.

Enjoying the sunset

We’d got to the hostal last night at about 11pm, after a full day on planes and in airports, so in the morning, given we had some time, we had some downtime together watching Spiderman 3.  The last time we watched a movie together, about 5 weeks ago in Ubatuba, Frankie had been on the lookout for any teary moments - whch duly came towards the end of “Fried Green Tomatoes" and he took delight in pointing this out (to be fair, it reminded me of doing the same with my parents when I was little though.) Funnily enough this time around with Spiderman 3, during a slushy scene about being best friends, it was Frankies turn, and he smiled through his tears as I looked at him.  He said “I was just trying to get some water into my eyes, Daddy!”

......I see, so you basically just walk off the cliff, right?

In the afternoon, we headed down to the park at Miraflores that runs along the coast, and instantly noticed the colourful paragliders in the air, sometimes slowly making a winding turn, sometimes seemingly rushing past at speed. You could see that some were tandem riders so I went to enquire as to the minimum age for a ride. Apparently it was 5, although I didn’t see any children there. It was 150 soles, about £35 each, not within our daily budget, however this was one of those things you say to yourself, "how often will we get the chance to just turn up and do this?" - and what a great backdrop, being able to enjoy the coastline of Lima at the same time. I asked Louis if he fancied doing this as an early birthday present, he said he’d do it if I would.  Deal.

Are we supposed to go that close?

After briefly returning to our room to exchange flipflops for trainers, and getting a fleece, we headed back to the seafront, and I went over to meet Rafael, our pilot.  There wasn’t much in the way of a briefing, you just put the harness on, he gets on with a bit of faffing to line up the parachute, you follow his instruction to stand “here...... no here,” you then take a few steps, and suddenly the air fills the parachute and you’re up.  Looking down I could see the busy road below that borders the sea dotted by surfers. 

I didn't bother with the video, hopefully if Louis agreed to go then we could get one done for him. Speaking to Rafael, he explained that we were going about 45 miles an hour as we whooshed back on ourselves towards the somewhat iconic lighthouse. We descended below the level of the clifftop park where Jules and the boys were, and nearer the grey, very hard and not even slightly bouncy road below, and our conversation moved on to the mechanics of the flight. Even though it was in Spanish, I understood enough to learn that we'd been powered by the cold winds coming in off the sea, hitting the cliffs and being pushed upwards, therefore my "clever Daddy" speech earlier with the boys about circling eagles and thermals was in hindsight somewhat wide of the mark, even if the principle holds true.  I was really enjoying the ride and looked forward to get down and see the boys faces, and find out how they felt about it. I waved at someone on about the tenth floor of a building that we were flying surprisingly close to, who waved back. I shouted that I'll swoop past for a drink on the way back, which might have been funnier if I'd at least said it in Spanish instead of English...

I was wondering when we'd start some sort of discussion about landing, but as we approached I realised there wouldn't be one, "just keep your legs up in the air", he requested, before executing a very smooth and straightforward landing and promptly receiving my profuse thanks. Louis was still filming me when I landed, and I wondered whether he'd filmed the entire flight, in which case 9 minutes of this will be a dot in the sky. Asking Louis what he thought, he confirmed that it looked like really great fun and that he definitely wanted to do it........meanwhile Jules was getting ready too, and Frankie was left as the guardian of our bags as I followed Louis out towards Rafael and his big blue parachute. 

Here we go then.....

As I began to film Louis preparing, the camera bleeped.  Card full. I quickly went back and deleted some of the previous footage of the tiny dot in the sky to make room for Louis as Rafael calmly helped Louis get his gear on. There was an extra person with a yellow jacket who helps you take off, as the giant parachute and the winds can introduce a little unpredictability. It looked like they were trying to get on board a reluctant camel, as they lifted off the ground slightly and then came down again rather clumsily without actually getting anywhere.  Rafael had explained that with the lighter load of children, you don't go as fast, so that explained why he wasn't just running off the side of the cliff as he did with me. That said, moments later they were airborne, and Louis waved with a little whoop of delight. They turned and as the wind got behind them, picked up speed and flew off toward the picturesque black and white striped lighthouse.

I'm loving this

Hello down there!

Shortly afterwards, Jules was up with another pilot and able to enjoy a view of Louis flying from her own flight. It's left little Frankie on his own, and I went over to him and asked him how he was feeling. "I really want to do this too Daddy, can I do it?"  I was delight he'd changed from his earlier "50% status" and quickly sorted out the "it was all my stupid fault, not yours" sworn statement paperwork, a prerequisite for such activity.

No going back now then.....

Thank you thank you thank you!

Frankie said he was a little bit nervous but not too scared and if Louis could do it then so could he. Rafael landed with a very smiley Louis, and we congratulated Louis on how well he'd done.  After transferring all the gear onto a willing and enthusiastic Frankie, and being joined now by a vary happy Jules who had just had a safe landing of her own, we watched Frankie take off and enjoy the experience, making a very picturesque silhouette against the setting sun and also as he rounded the lighthouse. 

Frankie gets a closer view of the lighthouse

This is brilliant!

Thanks Rafael, you're a great pilot!

The boys have written up their separate blog entries about their experiences.  All in all this transformed a quick city stopover into a highlight of its own!

A long snorkel - and Frankie's first shark!

A couple of days before we left Santa Cruz and the Galapagos, we headed back to Playa las Alemanas for one last snorkel. Our friend Paul’s son Danny joined us and we agreed to meet Paul there with a couple of his friends a little later in the afternoon.

It was in between tides, so the boys and I were swimming out a little further out than we’d normally go, because there was enough water to find a route over the rocks that protect the outside of the bay. Then Paul and his friends swam up to us and he suggested swimming across to a little island.  It didn’t seem too far, so off we went, the boys were happy and full of energy, prompting them to dive down every now and again to get a better look below.  As we swam I reflected on how it wasn’t long ago  - maybe a couple of weeks - when the boys would regularly check how far we were from the shore and suggest we turn back if it felt too far.  Sadly, Jules had to stay on the beach to look after our gear, as we’d just taken out a bundle of cash from the bank to pay someone whose office was then shut when we got there just before our snorkel.  

I noticed Paul was swimming front crawl and realised, as I swam behind him, that he wasn’t wearing flippers.  He explained that he never took flippers otherwise he’d be waiting for everyone all the time, he swims so fast.  And he was not wrong.  He swims as fast without flippers as the rest of us do with them! 

Louis and Frankie looked very comfortable out there, sometimes swimming with me, but happy to be independent within the group too, and had no trouble at all keeping up, which surprised me given how much bigger my flippers were than theirs.  I didn’t once get any sense that they wanted to turn back.  When we got to the bank we'd aimed for, Paul looked over to another little island in the distance and picked out a point on the mainland well beyond that, where there was a small boat moored.  “How about we try for the dock over there?” he volunteered. “There are some great rays and sharks you can see.....”  Danny was uncertain, Paul’s mates were up for it, and Louis surprised me by saying “Yes let’s do it.”  We set off again, still reasonably full of energy and Frankie and Louis thrashing on ahead. It seemed odd to be snorkelling at such pace, but felt like a good opportunity for some exercise. As we crossed into a much deeper channel, you could no longer see the bottom,  although at the pace we were going, that didn’t seem to matter, there wasn’t much time to admire the view!   Louis dived down and when he came up said to me that he could still see the bottom when he was down there.  No fear there then!

Google view of our snorkel.  The shark isn't shown.

The group progressed up to the island at pace, and then on to the dock beyond - there were some boats passing at this point, and iI did wonder whether the boys would have the appetite for the return journey, as we’d swum at least half a mile. I was also conscious of how Jules would be feeling given that we would probably be getting back much later than planned, and most of the snorkel would be out of view of the beach. I hoped that Paul, when he’d seen her on the beach after I’d already gone into the water with the boys, had given her a sense that we might be on something of a long trip. 

Louis' recollection of Las Tintoreras

Once at the dock, we got out carefully - it was incredibly slippery - and walked along the footbridge and along a stony marked path to “Las Tintoreras”.  Basically, you looked down from behind a flimsy wooden fence to the lagoon 20 metres or so below and could see 5-6 white-tipped reef sharks resting in maybe 2 metres of water, accompanied by some large marble rays too.  It was interesting to watch them in this sun trap.  

The sun was clearly falling so we needed to get moving.  It seemed to take an age to get back into the water.   Almost immediately the boys were showing signs of tiredness, Louis’ foot was hurting from where his flippers had been rubbing, so for a while we swam three abreast. We’ve swum like this quite a bit this holiday, it’s lovely swimming hand in hand, and a great way to communicate when you see something of note, an unspoken rule that says the more exciting the view, the harder you squeeze.  But that had been at a very leisurely snorkelling pace, whilst trying to remind the boys to swim really slowly and enjoy and explore the whole view, not just spotting the biggest fish.  Now that we were racing back across the bay (and trying to keep up with the rest of the group as they seemed to be pulling away) it was a somewhat different challenge and my legs were getting tired too.  

Fortunately though, after a few minutes, the boys seemed to have gained the respite they needed and first Louis and then Frankie were off again on their own accord.  They still seemed to be able to go underwater now and again to go deeper, so they couldn’t have been that tired! The tide had gone down by now, so we had to be careful when trying to follow the identical route back. We got back to the island quite quickly and were rewarded with a really close-up view of two blue-footed boobies on a rock, less than a metre above sea level. As we went over some very shallow water there was a shout from ahead and the guys said that a sealion had surprised them by swimming under them all at great speed, almost brushing past them!  

Louis was fine by this point, swimming on ahead, I was with Frankie, he liked to swim holding my hand and every now and again I’d feel a tug back on my arm, which he said after he’d do so he could get himself to surge forwards. As we neared the shallow entrance to the bay we’d started at, I noticed a shadow to my right and suddenly a real live white-tipped reef shark was right in front of us, slowly swimming from right to left. Frankie squeaked loudly when he saw it, and squeezed my hand hard.

The shark, as Frankie recalled it

Now Jules and I have swum with quite a few sharks over the years on various dive trips and always marvelled at them, more in awe than in fear.  Nevertheless, I couldn’t help myself reflecting briefly on the fact that firstly, we were not far from Tortuga Bay where some poor chap was attacked a couple of weeks before, and secondly, it must have been approaching 5:30, around the time when sharks like to feed, a time when it is wiser to be out of the water.  I poked my head out of the water momentarily to beckon Danny over to see, as he was swimming not far behind us.  When I looked back the shark had gone from view and Frankie had turned 90 degrees to the left and was swimming after it!

Given we were still just outside the bay and the rest of the group were some way ahead now, I said to Frankie we’d head back NOW - there will be plenty more time for sharks in the future. He was still thrilled and said that it had disappeared from view anyway so was happy to go back.

Frankie writes:

We swam back to where we could see Mummy but just then we saw a black shadow, but Man! I squeezed Daddy’s hand real hard as this creature swam along that was amazing.  I was desperate to tell the others!  It was a shark and it was truly amazing!

Poor Jules had been worried when we got back, as we’d been gone over two hours, and all sorts of scenarios had gone through her mind!

After seeing the shark in the water, I didn’t glance behind me much as Frankie and I headed back to the shore at a brisk pace, with Danny close by, but I do remember pondering this question.  Before 1976, if you were worried about sharks when you were swimming, what music would be going through your head?