But First, Guayaquil

As eager as I am to get to the Galapagos, there was no choice but to stay a night in Guayaquil given the flight times. I’ve been excited to actually spend some time in Guayaquil and booked two nights here on my way back home next week, instead of one, so I could knock out all the good stuff I had researched. As my cab drove along the cobble streets I could see the colorful charm of the neighborhood, bordered by the giant river. Since I’d have all afternoon today, the itinerary I had put together for myself included the little uphill hike to the lighthouse at Cerro Santa Ana, visiting the Cementario General, checking out the iguanas at the Parque Seminario, eating ceviche at La Pata Garda, and seeing what else I could find along my way.

My AirBnB is down a long cobble road and actually part of Cerro Santa Ana, I had known that it was close but not that it was part of it, and the famous steps up the hill were just at the end of the block. The door to the AirBnB was a nondescript entrance off a narrow cobblestone alley. Another group of folks had been dropped off by a cab just as mine pulled up and had already rang the bell to be let in. This AirBnB is actually more like a true Bed & Breakfast, just booked on AirBnB. The hostess came to open the door and showed us all up to the second floor, you must ring a button in the elevator to get to the main floor. Huh. Ok.

I wasn’t expecting for my room to be ready and had planned on just dropping off my bags as I had arranged with the host. The view was far beyond what I expected as I stepped onto the 2nd floor and walked out the wide doors to the open balcony. The river streamed right beneath us and the La Perla Ferris wheel was in view. As were some sky buckets! Sky buckets spanning the entire length of the river. The hostess apologized that nobody’s rooms were ready as she invited everyone to sit for some fresh juice and a bowl of fruit. My blackberry juice and fruit were ridiculously refreshing in the blanket of humid air. As she informed everyone that the rooms should be ready by 2pm I let her know that I was heading out to explore and no rush; I was going to start by exploring Cerro Santa Ana. “No, don’t go in the alleys, it’s not safe. I If you want to go somewhere, use Uber.” I gently challenged her back that I thought the steps were a tourist attraction. Yes, she conceded the steps were fine to do but no alleys.

As she collected everyone’s passports to get all the assorted guests check in processing done it turned out that my room was the only one that was actually ready. Score! It’s a fine room, like any hotel, with a teeny bathroom. I appreciate that the room came stocked with water (as well as wine, beer, and sodas to be charged on consumption). My room is right off of the main area with the kitchen and living space; the only room on this level. It’s just perfect for one night.

With my bags safely deposited in my room and instructions on how to get in and out of the building given, I set off in the sweltering heat to the steps. Walking down the cobblestone road I was in awe of the charm of the little street and the colorful street art that accented select walls.

Cerro Santa Ana is a steep hill with a complex of stairs leading to a lighthouse and panoramic views of the charming and colorful Santa Ana neighborhood. The stairs are even individually numbered so you can track your progress. I decided to take note every 100 steps as I made the 664 step trek. There were definitely no other tourists on the steps with me today. In fact, I hardly saw anyone except for police on patrol every 75 or so steps and the occasional local lugging heavy crates, very slowly with lots of breaks. Little storefronts along the way peddled water, soda, cocktails, meals, and snacks. A cute little poodle-ish dog was laying guard at the entrance to one of said shops.

I could feel the calories burning as I kept on stepping. I could also feel pangs of discord and wariness every time I walked by police and I could feels eyes every time I walked past a local. Little steps led off the main set to the side in many places and I wondered if those were the dangerous alleys the hostess had warned me off. Before too long I was at the base of the Lighthouse and confused where I was to go from there; and then realizing that there are 446 steps not 664! I had already made it to the top! Since I’d saved myself 200 steps by being wrong, I climbed the steep, narrow, slippery steps to the top of the lighthouse for the best views of all. And I felt very out of place as this was definitely a place where the local kids come to make out; I was very old and very alone up there amongst the young pairs of lovebirds. But the views were worth it. Climbing back down the lighthouse stairs was extra dizzying in the oppressive humidity.

A little chapel sat beside the lighthouse; I didn’t go in it as I saw a police officer patrolling inside and it didn’t feel right. I can’t explain why the police officers I passed made me feel the most uncomfortable of all but I was very cognizant of what my gut was telling me.

I could also see a skyscraper apartment building that looked familiar; I think the AirBnB I’m staying in on my way back next week is in there and that’s why I recognize the roof top pool and hot tub.

It had been raining before I arrived and the wet steps were treacherously slippery walking back down. I took my time; stopping to pet the teeny black kitten who was standing in the middle of a landing and to laugh at the little dog growling at me through a window overhead.

Once I had reached the bottom of the steps I consulted google maps to figure out the route to the Cementario General, also known as the White City Cemetery that is supposedly very unique and worth a visit. The walk was was just under 3/4 of a mile and looked to be straight up the road I was already on, and to the left when I get to the first hard left turn. Easy peasy.

Steep and hilly this street was a booty challenge as I started up the sidewalk. As I made it to the first block I saw a man walking towards me; he seemed to have turned to come directly towards me and was gesturing at me. At the same time a man whose patio I was walking past also started to say something. I made a gesture like I was blowing them off and almost in unison I heard, “STOP!” coming from both their mouths. “You can’t go that way.” I could see a couple obvious locals on the sidewalk ahead and the one man had come from that direction. “I’m just trying to get to the cemetery” I tried to tell them. The one man was pretty much blocking my path while the other said, “turn around, it’s not safe, don’t walk that way, this street is dangerous it’s not safe for you. This street is dangerous.” Not entirely sure how to react but entirely sure that I was going to heed the warning I think I threw out an “ok ok” and turned around on my heels to head back from where I had come. In hindsight I wish I had shown more appreciation for their warnings because better safe than sorry. But I’m not gonna lie, in the moment, I was shook.

Back at the bottom of the Cerro Santa Ana steps I sat on a bench to commit to my new game plan. Honestly, I’d feel dumb calling an Uber to take me less than a mile so I pretty much decided that I wasn’t going to be seeing the Cementario General. That leaves Parque Seminario and La Pata Gorda on my list. And they are directly adjacent to each other. I ordered up an Uber and sat there wary of everyone around me while feeling drops of sweat run down my back and knees. I like this game plan though, food would be good.

As my Uber pulled up and I was out of the heat in the air conditioned little black Chery Arrizo (which, btw, was going to cost me $1.88) my mind continued to clear. The guy on the airplane had warned me. The hostess at my AirBnB had warned me. Random men on the street had warned me. I’m catching on that after hearing serious warnings three times I can’t not take it to heart. I’m supposed to come back here for two nights after the islands; I have to be back for one since I fly home from here the next morning but I don’t want to come back here. I don’t want to spend a whole day here.

It seemed clear to me. It would make much more sense to stay an extra night on Santa Cruz Island after my yacht cruise and change my flight back from Baltra then to leave the islands a day earlier than I had to.

My Uber driver and I somewhat communicated about what to see in Guayaquil through a mix of very broken english and very broken Spanish. In reality, there was probably no actual communication happening but we both felt like we were at least kind of having a conversation. The Parque Seminario is in the heart of the downtown and traffic was a mess. Horns blaring everywhere and cars cutting in and over without any regard for vehicles already occupying the space they’re trying to squeeze into.

Parque Seminario is also known as Parque de las Iguanas. If you haven’t caught on by those names, it’s a large city park, across from a large cathedral, that has a large number of iguanas roaming around. Of the four sides, only one entrance to the park was open, with armed police of course, and I of course circled the entire park before I figured out which door was open. It was a beautiful little city square with sculptures and patches of grass and trees that created a contrast with the dense city buildings.

I perked up when I spotted an iguana not far from me. Oh, another right next to it! And another on top of the hedge! And another headed to find something more interesting. My eyes adjusted to the ground as I looked around and realized that I could see DOZENs of giant iguanas, easily 4 ft long, chomping down, hanging out on the cobblestone walkway, decorating sculptures, staring back at all the onlookers; they were everywhere. It wasn’t until I narrowly missed getting pelted by a giant splat of iguana crap that I looked up and realized they were high in the trees overhead as well. It was very cool. But you can only watch iguanas for so long, and take so many pictures, when you are still in need of a proper meal for the day.

La Pata Gorda was directly across from the park and at first I worried it was closed or something was happening there; an armed guard stood in front of the door. I squinted to see thru the glass walls and there were people in there. As I approached the door to see what I could figure out the guard looked me up and down and then opened the door as a waiter eagerly greeted me and showed me to a table immediately. Ok, I see, so the armed guard is just a normal thing. Got it.

La Pata Gorda is known for crabs, as in the kind you get to work your ass off to crack yourself, but I had also seen ceviche on their menu when I found them thru research online and that’s what had my interest piqued. The waiter brought me a plate of freshly fried plantains, so fresh they were almost too hot to the touch, with some type of white queso dip. Delicious. While a cocktail could be nice I needed to hydrate and didn’t want to let my guard down at all so a freshly made pineapple juice it would be instead. I was hungry and the entire menu looked divine. I settled on these little thingies, that for the life of me I cannot remember what they were called, but they are little plantain cakes with fresh crab and salsa on top. Served appetizer style, six to a plate. Plus a shrimp and octopus mixed ceviche.

While I waited for my food I pulled up AirBnB and Avianca Air to start researching how easy it will be to add the extra day in the Galapagos and lessen my time in Guayaquil. I found an adorable house on AirBnB that just so happened to have the night I needed as the only night it had available this month. Score! I found that there were flights at great times with plenty of open seats. Score! I still need to figure out it if I can change my existing return flight or if I have to book an entirely new flight. Since the cruise operator booked the return flight it may not be able to be manipulated.

The little plantain crab delights were mind blowingly good; with the perfect flavor and dash of cilantro on top that seemed to pull each bite together. Heaven on my taste buds. At first sip, I wasn’t super impressed with the ceviche but as I stirred my bowl and ate the giant shrimp and abundant octopus like a soup the flavors started to meld together better and better until I was also blown away by how good it was. It definitely made my list of top three ceviches!

A table of ladies next to me were celebrating a birthday. The waiter came out carrying a candle-topped cupcake while loud music started blaring throughout the restaurant, singing the Happy Birthday song. In English!! I was actually taken aback to be hearing it and am still confused by they use blast it in English first! I was getting full but not going to let a single bite or sip go to waste. I was sad when it was all gone but relieved because my belly couldn’t handle any more. Quickly clearing my plates and confirming I was finished, the waiter reappeared with a compliment of the house, a little shot of mint smoothie, the perfect digestive. As I gathered my stuff to waddle out, the waiter ran ahead and opened the door for me to walk out past the armed guard, like he had for every other patron.

I had also looked at my trusty GoogleMaps while eating and realized I was only a few blocks from the Malecon 2000 and I could walk that almost all the way back to my AirBnB. Perfect, I really needed to move after that meal and the Malecon should be busy and recreational enough to be safe. I encountered some beautiful sculptures in a nicer part of downtown on my way to the water’s edge.

The Malecon runs for, well I’m not sure how long but at least a couple miles, showcasing the water front and offering playgrounds and carnival rides. Three military ships were docked at one point, empty bar and restaurants jutted out at other points, a giant Ferris wheel, La Perla, stood tall and still towards the far end.

As I walked I also noted two other sets of tourists. I could tell by their language. And they were wearing shorts. And I realized that tourists like me stick out like a sore thumb in a place like this, walking around in shorts and a baseball cap. I don’t think I saw a single local in shorts. Or a single other woman in a baseball cap. I grew very self conscious as I continued towards the end of the Malecon.

When I checked into my AirBnB I saw the long line of sky buckets going from near La Perla to somewhere way out across the river. I had not leaned of these in my Guayaquil research. I took a moment to try to figure them out, maybe there was something interesting to see on the other side? Turns out the AeroVia is just a commuter line between downtown Guayaquil and a sleepy suburb. BRILLIANT! For $0.70 I thought about riding it for the views but didn’t. I needed my body to move, not be stationary.

At the termination of the Malecon was the Museo Antropologico y de Arte. This could be interesting. And they didn’t charge for admission! No brainer. The large building only contained a few pretty small rooms of very odd or ancient art. And since I’m in a Spanish speaking country and don’t speak Spanish I couldn’t even make out any of the descriptions or information. Some of it was just plain, well, weird to me, and I’ll have to google translate the descriptors to see if there’s any rhyme or reason. I respected it as art, I just didn’t understand it. Overall, the museum did not interest me and the stifling hot air was starting to make me feel headachy so I wandered the halls quickly and escaped back onto the edge of the Malecon.

I was feeling hot, tired, and sweaty but not physically satisfied yet with how much I’d gotten to move after my meal so instead of stopping when I got back to my AirBnB I kept going and walked the little Malecon on the other side of Cerro Santa Ana. This Malecon had a distinctly different feel and was lined with new modern architecture that stood in sharp contrast to everything else I’ve seen here. It was quiet and peaceful. I walked till there was no more Malecon to walk, watching the water plants floating along the surface of the muddy brown river. At first site I had thought the greenery floating along the river was like seaweed that had been washed up. But upon closer inspection I realized that they are more of a water lily type of plant that I’ve had floating on a pond before. They belonged floating like that, it’s how they lived. The ones rooted in the soil from when the tide receded were the outliers.

A white Frenchie ran ahead of her owner, off leash, crisscrossing across the Malecon to greet the few of us who were out with a snuff and an offer to be petted. She had the cutest smile! I spotted iguanas in trees overhead and became more cautious about where I walked, lest I risk almost getting pooped on again.

Back at the AirBnB a quick dip in the rooftop pool cooled my body down before I showered and got comfortable for the evening. I had tried to lay on the hammocks but the coarse straw construction felt terrible. As the sun ceded the air cooled and I sat out on the large deck overlooking the river; writing, looking into more options for the night I want to change, and watching the bats wake for the evening and zip around overhead. The mosquitoes started to zip around too though so that was enough of that. While it’s nice to have this “public” space in the AirBnB to use, it is definitely a small family operation and I feel like I’m intruding on their home being in their space so it was a retreat to my room for the rest of tonight.

With three flights down, I have two more to go tomorrow! First thing in the early morning I’ll head to the airport for my flight to Baltra and from there my air taxi will take me to Isla Isabela! I am beyond excited. And exhausted.