After our sojourn in the 'city' as we liked to call it (really only the size of a big village or small town) it was time to go back to work, back to simple living and back to the mosquitoes. But it was a good week overall, settling into life at the station. On the Monday we set to work in the kitchen garden, digging shallow trenches to plant lettuce and broccoli, weeding the rows of carrots and other edible flora. It was a tough and knackering full day's work and I hadn't realised how much the mosquitoes were attacking me until I noticed all the blood spots on my hands where I'd removed my gloves to pull up some more delicate plants. Thank goodness I'd been wearing my head net otherwise they would have gone to town on me. By far the hardest part about being at the station was keeping the mozzies at bay. Luckily the temperature was moderate so it was easy to remain covered up most of the time but occasionally working up a huge sweat underneath all those layers was a hindrance.
But there wasn't too much to complain about as we set about attacking some of the mora bushes in a local farmer's field the next day. Again, tough work but rather therapeutic to hack a whole load of thorned, overgrown bushes with a machete. I'm convinced I had the toughest corner of the field with about seven small trees to negotiate where the blackberries had grown up, over and around the branches so not only did I have to cut from the bottom but above my head to disentangle the masses. It's a wonder I didn't take a chunk out of myself once my arms got tired! A job well done but we left plenty more to attack at a later date. I think I will view blackberries in a whole different light from now on.
With the rest of the afternoon off, we just chilled in the hammocks and snoozed or read books for the remainder of the day. A well earned rest. That evening was Sheil's last night so a few of us headed off to the bar down the road for drinking games, pool and a spot of salsa. It turned out to be a bit of a drunken one with an inebriated Sheil returning to the station on the back of the local farmer's horse and slumping to the floor after the bumpy ride back. I had the misfortune of being on breakfast duty the following morning nursing my cheap rum hangover and squeezing about 30 oranges for the fresh juice, a staple at every meal.
Then followed coffee picking in the local farmer's field and an education in how to prepare, roast and grind the beans throughout the day. The picking itself wasn't so much fun but the previous night's drinking might have had a lot to do with it. I made the mistake of trying to climb up and over a log in muddy boots and found myself lying flat on my back as fast as my coffee beans could fly off into the brown sludge around me. So then I had to pick them all over again, up out of the mud and back into my bucket! The rest of the process that afternoon was pretty enjoyable though as Shannon and I made a good fire-starting and roasting team. Fascinating to see the process through from start to finish and would have been even better if I actually liked to drink the final product. The fresh stuff smelt pretty good though.
The next day we were back at the national park digging holes and planting trees but there wasn't too much for us to do so after another visit to the giant tortoise sanctuary it was another afternoon of chilling out in the hammocks, snoozing and chatting amongst ourselves. On Friday we revisited the national park but this time the nursery to replant seedlings for an hour or two. An easy morning and I had to laugh when the rest of the group were showered with a fine spray of water as Jefferson turned on the wrong sprinklers while I was in the safety of a dry section of the nursery.
We walked to the nearby Puerto Chino beach for a barbecue lunch, a spot of surf jumping in the cold sea and more insights into the local wildlife. A great way to kick off the weekend. It was good to all be back in town and treat ourselves to a nice meal, a few cocktails and some more salsa at the local nightclub that evening. Then it was up early the following morning with Brenda and Shannon to get another seasickness-inducing ride, this time to Santa Cruz for a few days. It was good to see another island, busier and a bit more touristy but still pretty quaint and small. It was a quiet day as we were all feeling a bit sleep-deprived and delicate.
The next day was packed with visiting the stunning locale of Tortuga Bay to soak up the sun, sea and sand as well as marine iguanas lining the beach. They were pretty prehistoric-looking creatures and a couple of them reminded me of a mean-looking 80s punk. I think it was the spikes that did it. You'll hopefully see what I mean by the photos.
Then ensued a tour of the highlands to see two huge volcanic craters, lava tunnels and more giant tortoises. I felt happier to have seen a bit more of island life, having wondered if I was missing out by being stationed in one place. I accept that I probably saw a lot less than those who've travelled around on a cruise but overall I did really appreciate that the volunteering was a rich experience in many ways. I saw a different side to the islands and although I'm not sure how much I really contributed in such a short space of time I'm glad that I have made even a small mark on the conservation of such a wonderful environment that should endure for generations to come.
All that remained to do after we returned to the station was pack up and have a last night celebrating with my fellow volunteers at the bar. I resisted drinking any more dodgy, cheap rum especially as some of the others were playing drinking games again but still managed a fun, late night playing pool, dancing and saying a final farewell to my new-found friends.
Before I knew it I was back in Quito planning a trip to Cotopaxi, the highest volcanic peak in Ecuador, to round off my travels before returning home. It was a great way to spend my last few days away, chiling out in the jacuzzi, finishing off my latest book curled up in front of the fire and playing cards with my hostel companions. It was a beautiful place and as I hiked up to the glacier partway up the peak (about 4,100m above sea level) I got a good view of the surrounding terrain once the clouds cleared. It was only a short hike but pretty hard work at that altitude without much acclimatisation. But the fun was to be had in mountain biking our way down until it started tipping it down and we got covered in mud and grit.
I was a bit subdued with thoughts of returning home but caught up with Ian, a guy I'd met in Quito a few weeks before who had been waiting to head off to the Galapagos. Think he may be heading to the same place that I was at but he wasn't sure what it was called so it will be interesting to see how it pans out. I ended up staying an extra night at the hostel as it was difficult to head back without enough people to fill private transport, it really was in the middle of nowhere. But I returned to Quito in time to have a final supper and head off to the airport to catch my flight home.
So now that I've returned to English soil there might be some burning questions to answer. Have I changed? What was the highlight of my trip? What did I learn about myself? What wisdom do I have to impart on travelling? How would I do things differently knowing what I know now? Well I think I've got one more post in me to answer all these and wrap things up apart from a million and one photos still to share. But I'll save that for tomorrow when I'm a little less jet lagged and have had a little more time to pull together my thoughts.
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