My mom and I set off to Ecuador and the Galapagos Islands on Thursday in mid October. We flew from San Jose to Long Beach. I lugged my work laptop along with me, seeing as my work would be going on vacation too. In the days prior to our trip, I was so occupied with my job that I didn’t have time to prepare for the other-worldly beauty we were going across the Equator to see.
We watched the Oakland Raiders win a very tense game against some other less important team during our brief layover in Long Beach before boarding a red-eye to Fort Lauderdale. As most red-eyes go, the flight was uneventful. The flight to Guayaguil was nearly equally uneventful; however, it did offer some better views.
We flew over the the turquoise Caribbean waters for hours before going over a strip of land. From my vantage point, tens of thousands of feet up in the air, it looked very populated, with what looked like a big city occupying the whole area. Once we got to the other side and passed over the shore there were a dozen little colorful sprinkles on the sea, giant tankers and cruise ships waiting their turn to pass through the Panama Canal, which must have been right under us because I never caught sight of it.
From there, the flight to Guayaquil was another hour. Our travel guide made our acquaintance. It mustn’t have been too hard to figure out, especially since she had our names on her list, and our Eastern European last name and corresponding appearance made us stand out from the crowd.
Our guides name was Martha. She was from Eastern Bloc like us, born and raised in Romania. She had a wild, curly, brunette bob, and a penetrating Transylvanian gaze peering out from underneath. She didn’t spend much time on small talk and instead gave us a brief overview of what was to happen upon landing: the bus would take us to the hotel and from there we’d have time to explore Guayaquil in the evening, before setting off to Galapagos the next morning.
As we got closer to our destination, I saw peaks of the Andes cutting through the clouds on the East, and as we began our descent we could see a vast muddy river below us. Someone said it resembled the Amazon. It was muddy with sediment, not dirt or pollution as some other people on our flight suggested.
We had a smooth landing followed by a surprisingly pleasant border control process. Then we waited for the rest of our group, were greeted by our locals guides, and boarded a tour bus that took us to our hotel.
Penned by Alina K. A. 