The Amigo

Update: 9

This past week has been pretty eventful. It began with Tam and me having a conversation with an Israeli Elvis impersonator. I only mention this for prosperity. I'm not banking on meeting anyone like him again. Polite conversation with a bloke who's accent I couldn't quite make out, was brought to a halt when he whipped a business card out of his pocket and gave it to me. It had a cheesy photo of a guy with a sort of fifties 'do and wearing a midnight blue satin shirt (collar up). I looked at it, astounded, and took a few seconds to register that the squiggles were Hebrew characters. Fortunately the Hebrew was translated at the bottom: "Dreams of Elvis" it said. Proudly. I think the look on my face illustrated enough confusion for him to curl is lip and give it away. "Oh! I see! This is you!" I said. "Uh huh huh," he crooned.

***

So, after two weeks of sun, hammock and beach, we make it onto our boat. The Amigo, or "Friend Ship" as someone pointed out. A fairly basic but comfortable boat complete with a guide who lorned Eengleesh from a boook. I don't want to be mean about him. He was a lovely bloke, I just didn't really know what the hell he was talking about.

Our first activity on the cruise was turtle spotting, which is hilarious. The Amigo anchors in an appropriate spot and everybody, along with their digital cameras (in some cases more than one per person), climbs into the lifeboat and we chug towards a mangrove swamp. As we near it, the outboard motor is switched off and Adrian (the guide) and Luis/Ruis (never quite got his name) row and punt us into the thick of the swamp.

Cameras have come a long way since Dageurre thought silver, eggs, a lens and black box would make a picture. Once upon a time, if your camera battery ran out, your camera would simply stop functioning. Now, some way into the New Millennium, when your battery runs out, your camera beeps or even - as in Dave's case - plays a tune.

So, back to turtle spotting: picture 16 people plus guide, squashed into a little boat going "shhh, shhhhh" and then, as the guide points and whispers "there!",  all shuffling to the relevant side of the boat, instinctively stepping back to balance and going "whoa whoa" as the whole boat nearly tips over. Then, as the turtle's head pops out of the water, sixteen cameras go beep-beep (focus) chick-eesh. (Except Dave's who's been trying to tell him that the battery is dead and gives us a  mono-phonic rendition of Auld Lang Syne) and then a chorus of "aaaah!" as everyone checks their little screens and realises that they've got a picture of water and a ripple. By this time, the turtle is on the other side of the boat, and we go through the process again: "Shhhh, shhh!" "There!", "whoa, whoa!", "Beep-beep chick-eesh", "Aaaaah".

Sixteen people, let's say, conservatively, 15 shots each, that's 240 chick-eeshes. I promise you, I did not see one photo of a turtle. Some, if you squinted, and gave the benefit of the doubt, could pass for a turtle, but then some bloke's bath prop once passed for the Loch Ness monster and is still baffling people, so I'm not a fan of "the benefit of the doubt".

It's hardly surprising, really, that no-one got a photo of the little guy. Every time he popped his head up, he must have thought he was in Vegas with all the flashing and beeping. Would have been even more convincing if Elvis was there...

***

We were fortunate to have a good bunch in our group. Sixteen in all. Apart from two Swedes who were about as cheerful as their eczema, everyone had a good laugh and I think we made some friends that we hope to stay in touch with.

Three of them (Stormin' Norman and Eva - Deutsch - and Chris - Brit, joined Bruce (obviously), Tam and me for her birthday party on the 1st. It comprised a kilogramme of cheese, some crackers, 3 litres of wine and some beers. Contrary to how it may sound, it was fantastic. We sat outside in hammocks and chairs enjoying the heat and laughing. You can't ask for more than that!

Chris very kindly gave Tam a Kinder chocolate with model car inside, so as you can imagine, she was over the moon with her presents.

If there's one thing I'll remember about the Galapagos, it was our penultimate day. Chris and I went snorkelling in a cove far away from any bathers and for twenty minutes had the undivided attention of a baby sea lion who played with us in the water. Swimming with a sea lion is a bit like playing with a Labrador puppy in 3D. When you dip, he dips and then circles you and swims around your head and right up to your mask and then darts away in the hope that you'll chase him. This went on until two of his friends joined him and made it clear that we were nowhere near agile enough to be entertaining. What an experience.

***

We flew back to Quito today in the hope of getting a quick bus/flight to Colombia. We should be there by Wednesday as we don't want to spend too much more time in Quito, lovely as it is.

This evening we went to our favourite pizzeria opposite the Bolivar Theatre and while getting a much needed fix of something other than soup, chicken and rice, we noticed a line forming with the most incredibly beautiful people. I couldn't resist, so asked what the deal was. "Narcotango" we were told. Not sure what to expect, but with nothing else to do, we bought tickets and joined the queue. It turns out, "Narcotango" is an electric sextet (keyboard, acoustic and bass guitar, accordion, violin and drums) playing some seriously sultry tunes to accompany a light show and tango dancers that take the mind to naughty places. This went on for ages and the audience loved it. Just as I regain my composure after watching a 6ft Argentine brunette in a cat-suit move her body like it was liquid, a new beat gets going and another minx enters stage left, wrapped in cling-film. Some sash-type ropes are lowered from the roof and she proceeds to do acrobatics and hands free swings three metres off the ground while lights and sounds pound the theatre.

We both sat there in awe. I had goose bumps. I have never seen anything like it in my life. Here's their website.

***

Next stop Colombia. Guerrillas aside, we're quite excited.

Take it easy.