Brenda's Bicycles

I have had quite the journey this last week, and as a result have spent the majority of my time resting, meditating, and simply doing nothing other than leave my hotel room every day in order to go get some food.

Well, actually, I have been doing a lot in the arenas of emotional processing – deep core stuff that is not fun to face. But face it I did, because I know that once I get through such core stuff, the sun is always shining more brightly on the other side.

Finally, after a week of writer’s rebellion, the words started flowing just after returning from lunch. I’m not even sure if I can take ownership of these words, but they did flow through me – with incredible clarity and ease.

I posted them as my Facebook status earlier this afternoon, and now feel inspired to also share them in my blog.

Following is what I posted:

Vulnerable heart expression …. read at your own risk LOL.

I have been fascinated by the recent Supreme Court rulings … realizing that for the first time in my life that, IF I actually wanted to, I am now legally allowed to enter a marriage relationship as my true self – as Brenda. (I think most everyone here knows that I am a transgender woman.)

I was also quite fascinated by the fear and hate-filled reactions expressed by so many sources – by people believing that my newfound baby-step of legal equality somehow threatens their ability to follow their own beliefs – even predicting that God’s wrath (and the end of the world) is upon us because people like ‘Brenda’ are allowed to exist outside their cages, in the light of day. From my own perspective, this seems like arcane silliness, and I took none of it personally.

That is, I did not feel the least bit affected by the hateful backlash until about three days ago when a casual Facebook friend posted a video to her page – a video that went on a hate-filled, unsubstantiated, rumor-mongering rant about people like … well … uh … ME.

Somehow, realizing that this video was posted by someone with whom I have a casual friendship – by someone that I thought loved me – I began to take it personally. I believed that if I approached my friend in a tactful and loving manner that maybe, just maybe, she might see through what I perceived as her obvious bigotry and possibly shift her position.

A couple of exchanges later, all couched in attempted-loving words (while carrying tense energy), I sank into deep depression. The futility of trying to convince anyone to open their mind became obvious – and I began to silently project that the whole world must secretly think the same horrible things about me – just pretending to be my friends with outward words, while simply tolerating me behind my back.

It was somewhere while treading water out in the middle of this putrid self-projecting swampy muck that my fingers unexpectedly typed a request on Facebook, asking my friends to please send me positive energy while I dove deep into the swamp of confusing crap. (I was actually beginning to feel old suicidal emotions again – but knew there was no danger of acting on them.)

I am happy to announce that I have surfaced from that emotional swamp with a new resolve – and a new sense of love for myself and for ALL people. I surfaced with the strong memory that my whole journey is an “Inside Job” – one of learning to love myself – and of remembering the self-love that I had already found.

After days of processing, including lots of potato chips and candy bars, I remembered that the only quest on the planet that really matters is that “Inside Quest” – the one where I learn to love myself so much that it really doesn’t matter what anyone else says or does.

I have long believed that healing the planet will only happen when I heal myself – when I shift my own consciousness and open up my own heart – when I realize my own inner connection to a divine and loving Universe. It is only then that I will see the world through different lenses.

And I clearly understand that the world I experience is a product of my own projections – and that my projections are a product of the repressed emotional baggage that I continue to carry inside of me. Trying to hide or deny that baggage does not make it go away. The projections happen anyway. The only way to heal the movie screen “out there” is to heal the film inside of us – the source of the projections we place onto the world.

So, at this point, I choose to focus again on my own state of love – and also realize with a giggle that the extremes that seem to take place out there actually serve me in a twisted sort of way. The extreme events are actually causing me and others to further question reality – causing them to start to wake up in ways that would not happen if everything was “normal”.

I, for one, am grateful that my own difficult journey forced me to question reality – forcing me out of my own comfort zone. If I were still in that “conditioned comfort zone”, I would have missed out on the most magical journey that I could have ever imagined.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Early on Saturday, June 13, 2015, I said goodbye to my hostal and hopped aboard a taxi that would take me to the “Terminal Terrestre” (Ground Terminal) – a huge, brand new bus terminal in the city of Guayaquil, Ecuador.

Literally twenty minutes after arriving at the bus terminal, I was boarding a direct bus that would take me into the Ecuadorian Andes mountains to a town called Cuenca.

This beautiful city is home to around 400,000 residents, and sits at an altitude between 7,710 – 8,370 feet (2,350 – 2,550 meters) above sea level. The climate here seems to be very similar to that of Cusco. It can be cold when the sun is hiding — and delightfully warm when the sun is brilliantly shining. My experience with this magical place is  that it is very clean and has very peaceful energy. There are thousands of expats that call this place their home.

This post contains 262 photos telling the story of my week (so far) here in the mountains of Ecuador.

As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.

CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION

Me, on my bus, as we begin to leave Guayaquil in the dust.

Crossing the bridge on one of the huge rivers that flows through the Guayaquil area (a sea-level town near the southwest coast of Ecuador).

The first part of our journey is flat, through gorgeous greenery … and soon we climb and climb and climb up the steep slopes of the Andes.

After a couple of hours we are way up in the gorgeous mountains.

More mountain scenery.

I am surprised as we cross a mountain pass, and then continue through an area with lots of lakes.

I later learn that this is part of Cajas National Park, and that the pass we crossed over was at 13,671 feet above sea level (4,167 meters) (according to Wikipedia). It was a very rainy day in the mountains.

Another mountain view with a few lakes in the background. I found it difficult to snap photos through the bus window – lots of raindrops on the glass.

A few hours later, I managed to find a few tourist maps of Cuenca before I asked a taxi to drop me off at a hostal that I had seen mentioned in my Lonely Planet tour book. Soon, I was checked into a really nice room – thinking I would just be here for a few days as I quickly explore the surrounding areas. Here I am now, a week later, still in that same hostal room, typing away on my computer.

City Tour

After getting settled in my sleeping quarters, I set out to explore (and to find an ATM). Soon, I hopped aboard a double-decker city tour bus.

The view from my seat as we wait to begin. The whole tour cost only $8.00.

Driving around the main plaza: Parque Calderon

The front of the “New Cathedral” here on the plaza. It is gorgeous inside. This is where I later had the experience with the dancers and the mass.

A gorgeous building on another corner of the plaza.

Just below my hostal, crossing into the new part of town, we come to a river area. From what I see, the entire river corridor is beautiful, green, and filled with grass and trees … a delightful place to hang out if I were so inclined.

Buildings and balconies … driving down one of the streets.

Driving beside one of the four rivers that call this city home. Every river I see is beautiful, surrounded by green.

Looking up at some expensive homes above the river. We are quite close to my hostal, which is up there somewhere behind those homes, and a few blocks to my right.

A view from a mountain near Cuenca, looking down over a major part of the city.

From the same view area, looking down at closer areas, and toward the left (West).

We are on the southern edge of Cuenca, and now I turn to look more toward the East.

Zooming in on the historic center of Cuenca. Just above left center you can see the three white domes of the New Cathedral … adjacent to the Parque Calderon.

Continuing our tour, passing beside more green areas that follow a river.

A beautiful building on one corner.

As we approach Parque Calderon at the end of our tour, we pass this flower market, just a half block from the plaza.

And this is a photo of a photo. At the start of our tour, the tour company took photos of all of us. At the end of the tour, they gave us a copy as part of the cost of our adventure. This is the photo they gave me. I took my own photo, because it is hard for me to carry extra things with me.

After the bus tour, I set off in search of an open travel agency. It seems that everything closes up here on Saturday afternoon – and even more so on Sundays. I finally found an agency just a half block from my hostal. I was happy to learn that I could go on a tour the very next morning – visiting the main natural attraction in the area.

Cajas National Park

At around 8:00 a.m. on Sunday morning, I stepped out of my hostal, standing on the street, hoping that some form of transportation would not forget to pick me up. Soon, a man in a small red car stopped to ask if I was waiting for a tour to Cajas. When I told him yes, he instructed me to get in. I questioned the safety at first, because the man had not even told me he was looking for “Brenda”. But my heart was at peace, saying go for it … so I trusted.

Five minutes later we picked up one more passenger. The other three who were scheduled to go with us had canceled. It was a very delightful and personalized tour …. and best of all, the sky was clear and we could see the distant mountains. It was going to be perfect weather.

Me, standing on the street, waiting to be picked up. I am very glad that the tour agency loaned me these rubber boots to wear. I needed them later on.

I took a photo of the front of my hostal while I waited … it is Hogar Cuencano. My room is on the second floor, looking out into an inner courtyard.

The empty street by my hostal, looking toward the travel agency on the next corner (right).

Finally, I am in the personal car of our tour guide (Wilson) … and we are driving back up the canyon, going back up the same road that I came down, just the day before.

After a while we turn off at this sign, which advertises the entrance to Llaviuca – a beautiful lake at the lower edges of Cajas National Park. Wilson tells us that we are going to walk around the lake while looking for birds and wildlife.

Crossing over one of the rivers that passes through this valley.

Climbing a little as we go through this gorgeous valley.

More of the scenery as we continue toward the lake.

The road was very bumpy – paved with large cobblestone rocks.

I could not resist taking a photo of these two children playing alongside the road.

Soon, we reach the entrance gate. Admission is free, but they do control the number of people allowed to enter each day. For instance, only 114 people are allowed to walk around the lake on any given day.

A map of Cajas National Park. If you look at the white area, that is the park. We are on the right side, right where that little brown protrusion ends coming in from the right. This is the lower end of the park. Eventually, we will cross through the upper part of the map.

The sign as we enter the parking lot for the lake area. The sign reads “National Park of Cajas, Recreation Zone of Llaviucu, 28,544 Hectors (70,533 acres), 3160 Meters (10,367 feet).

Below that, the white words read, “Area of importance for the conservation of birds”

Our massive tour bus.

Another map of the National Park of Cajas. I love such maps because they really help me to orient myself to the surrounding areas.

Scenery as we begin our walk.

Soon,, the lake comes into view. We will walk around it in a clockwise direction.

Wilson (our tour guide) is extremely knowledgeable about the plants and birds … and a very fun people person. He constantly stops to teach/show us things.

Down at the level of the lake with a gorgeous photo op.

Looking into the water from a small dock. Those plants below the shimmering surface act like the lungs of the lake, replenishing the oxygen.

Red Dartura flowers. Wilson spent considerable time telling us about the intoxicating nature of these medicine flowers … and how they are quite dangerous when used improperly. I really enjoy learning more about these flowers. Some shamans in the Amazon jungle mix a little of this into their Ayahuasca brew – and it can have beautiful or disastrous results.

I include a lot of wildlife and plant photos in this series. I was enthralled by the beauty and wanted to capture it all.

A beautiful little river that feeds the lake.

Looking upstream toward the source of this river. Later we will be up at the lakes that feed this small river. I think this one is the “Matadero River” … but am not fully sure.

Another Datura flower (I had never seen red ones before. I have often seen white and orange ones in my travels).

The back side of my tour-mate as we continue hiking on this small trail. Her name is Laia (Pronounded LIE-uh) … and I had a lot of fun talking to her.

looking back from whence we came.

Wilson gives us first glances of the “Quinoa” tree – it has reddish-brown paper-like bark. I have seen these trees (or ones similar) in different parts of the world. I love their bark.

A piece of the paper-like bark in my hand.

We are now on the other side looking back. There is another small dock on the near shore.

Standing on that dock, looking down into the water at more of those oxygen producing plants. The water is very clear here.

Me, on the dock …

… and another. It was chili here. I wore three layers and carried a coat in my backpack. It was not quite warm enough to remove my sweatshirt.

But I did suddenly realize that I was getting warm and at least unzipped it. Underneath is a long sleeved shirt that I bought in Iquitos (to use for mosquito protection while in the jungle).

… beautiful scenery.

I love the clouds behind the mountain.

Lots of moss in these trees. The climate seems to change, even at different parts of this lake.

This is actually a very tiny orchid (the tiny flower above the large leaf).

And another native orchid.

I got hooked on nature photos today.

… and another.

I love these “Brumela” plants. At least I think that is what Wilson calls them – part of the Pineapple family … they are growing all over these trees.

Zooming in a little.

There are so many unique species around this lake – plants that a different than any I have ever seen. (Maybe I am just looking more closely.)

A bird, just right of center, perched on that flowering tree.

Another bird on top of this colorful stump.

Laia, stopping to pose.

A constantly shifting climate, depending on what part of the lake we are at. This side is steep, along the mountain, and covered with thick canopy.

Wilson tells us that we might see some of the Tucan birds that live here … we walk very slowly as he occasionally makes a bird call … but we never see any of them.

I still fondly remember seeing my first Tucans in Tikal, in Guatemala.

Another vantage point.

Looking for those Tucan birds.

Finally, crossing the river on our way back to the other side of the lake.

Looking downstream.

Again … the climate shifts.

Walking on boards through a muddy area.

Some moss-covered branches along the path.

I LOVE this tree trunk.

More unique flowers on this tree.

As I check the time, I giggle and decide to take a photo of my disintegrating watch. If you look closely, you can see that the second hand is loose and clogging up the works  between the hour and minute hands.

If you look again, you can see that the buckle on my wrist strap is missing. I had to get creative and tie the two ends together with a stiff bobby pin. I then clipped the watch to the strap of my little purse.

I finally buy a new one to replace it a few days after this. I always use a cheap watch in my travels. I don’t want to look rich to would-be robbers.

A map showing the lake (left center) with the little red road that leads horizontally back to the main highway (top center to right center).

We are back on the road again, driving higher toward the upper part of Cajas National Park.

So many gorgeous scenes up here.

Wow, I just noticed that the mountain in the center looks like a face staring to the left (click to enlarge).

These mountains are approaching 15,000 feet … higher than anything in Utah or Colorado.

Our guide tells us that this is a sacred mountain, where the ancients used to climb to celebrate the Moon Gods.

We are now passing through the higher areas of Cajas … still climbing.

Soon, we stop at Tres Cruces (Three Crosses) – the mountain pass that I noticed the day before on my journey from Guayaquil.

The altitude here is 4,166 meters (13,668 feet) … note, this is one meter shorter than the altitude listed by Wikipedia … hmmm :)

The altitude part of the sign … I love to pay attention to such details.

Another sign here on top of Tres Cruces.

And I see a map that shows Cajas as being between Guayaquil and Cuenca.

A little lookout tower above. If you look directly below it, among the rocks, you can see three crosses … Wilson tells us that this is to honor the people that died in the harsh conditions as they traveled over this pass from Guayaquil to Cuenca (centuries ago).

A different vantage point in which the crosses are easier to see.

Looking from that platform down the valley. Our next destination is one of those lakes down there.

Me, standing in the same place, with Wilson using my camera.

… and a slightly different view.

This is a fascinating growth of plants that Wilson tells us is called “Cushion”. It really does feel like a cushion when you walk across these.

Without a zoom, a beautiful “cushion” plant / cluster.

This area is filled with beautiful and unique flowers and plants.

Soon, we get back in the car and drive back down the highway, just a short distance, headed toward Cuenca.

We stop here. The sign that shows where we are. We are at “Toreadora” … which is the little black dot just left of the right-center edge of the thumbnail image. The altitude here is 3,979 meters (13,054 feet) above sea level.

Zooming in on the previous map – a clearer image of where we are.

… and the altitude (zoomed in)

In this map, I am at the larger blue lake right in the exact center.

A view of the lake as seen from the parking lot. Wilson tells us that we will walk around it in a counterclockwise direction.

Looking off the the right.

Looking down at the middle of the beautiful lake.

Preparing to walk down the trail to the right (doesn’t show in the thumbnail image).

Another plant like the “cushion” we saw above … only Wilson tells us this one is different. It has bigger leaves, and is more spread out.

This entire area overflows with magical plants.

… and flowers.

These make me vibrate inside…

Another view of the same type of plant. They fascinate me.

Continuing on as we approach lake level.

A beautiful plant with magical colors and patterns. Wilson tells us that it grows a tall trunk in the middle before it creates seeds and then dies. It only lives once.

Zooming in on the same plant.

And these flowers are almost like some I used to love back home … but quite different.

Zooming in on another slight variation.

Random scenery at this part of the lake.

I love the green in these leaves.

Me, at the far end of the lake. I am not sure why my hair looks as if it is in two pony tails … because it isn’t. (Giggles)

I love this photo.

Here is where my boots come in very handy.

We leave the lake for a while and head up to (and past) that little hill on the left.

I am not sure how to interpret this sign. Our entire hike took us about two hours and fifteen minutes, including the little detour to the right … but I am not sure if we visited a “refugio” (refuge) in that direction.

We are now standing on top of the hill I pointed out two photos ago. This is the view looking up toward the mountain pass (Tres Cruces).

Wilson and Laia. I’m not sure why he was giving me a thumbs up. I think I just finished a difficult climb.

Walking across some of those “cushion” plants. The ground here is very moist.

From the top of the same small hill, looking down the valley in the direction of Cuenca.

Slightly different angle.

Wilson took this photo for me. My hair still looks funny LOL

I completely misunderstood Wilson when he told us that we were going to walk over there to that forest. I thought he meant the one on the far side of the valley (back right center). As it turns out, it was the near one, in the bottom left corner of the photo.

Another view looking down the valley. This is taken from just above that near forest mentioned in the previous photo.

Soon, we approach that forest … seeing a sign that reads Bosque Quinoa (Quinoa Forest).

The photos just do not capture the real beauty of these places. This forest was incredible to see in person.

It is a maze of those same reddish-brown paper-like bark trees.

We follow the trail down a few hundred feet into the middle of this large area. I love it here.

Laia …

And now, ME … in the same general spot.

… and another of me.

… loving it in here.

The camera is level. We are just on the side of a hill.

It was awkward to move around in here … hillside … mud … lots of intertwined trees.

After a while we leave the forest and resume our hike … first heading back to the lake.

I loved this little tree. It reminds me of banzai trees.

And wow … the greens on this moss practically jumped out to hug and kiss me … they are so gorgeous.

A little stream coming down over the trail … creating a lot of the mud on this far side of the lake.

A view along the far side.

Just cannot get enough of this.

It was quite muddy on this side, and in places they gave us boards to walk on.

Looking down at the lake from above the north side (the parking area is on the west).

This is two of those plants that I talked about at the beginning — the almost cactus-like ones with the purple leaves that only have one life. When they grow these little trunks, they die and dry out as these are doing.

Looking up toward the road and visitor center (upper right).

… just a nice view.

Racing through the grass to catch up with Wilson and Laia.

So so many beautiful views here.

A fascinating clump of mossy stuff.

And beautiful flowers.

Me and Laia … with the lake in the background. We are almost back to the car.

Soon, we are back in the car, zooming toward Cuenca. While still near the National Park we stop for a late lunch (included in the tour). I had the Garlic Trout … I liked it but had to dig through lots of bones, being extremely careful not to swallow them.

Museum And Pumapungo

After returning to Cuenca, I asked Wilson to drop me off at this museum. It was already about 4:00 p.m., and the museum closed at 5:00 p.m., so I zoomed through, just to get the flavor of the place, taking a few token photos. At 5:00 p.m. I went outside and in back, where some old ruins are located. They are not much, but I enjoyed walking through them.

The front of the museum.

There are several exhibits here. I focused most of my short time on the one upstairs. It covers all of the indigenous cultures from all over Ecuador.

This is just one random display.

This and the following few photos are not necessarily something that I wanted to capture … just a variety of things to remind me what this museum was like.

When the guard told me they were closing in ten minutes, I went outside to the Pumapungo area.

This sign explains that Pumapungo was the administrative and religious quarter of the Kañari and Inca city of Tomebamba. The Kañari’s were a pre-inca civilization which some people told me was at least 2000 years older than the Incas … I have not done any research on them.

Part of the ruins … looks very restored.

… another piece close by … just lots of very low walls with no real information about the place.

… and another section.

A circular wall … (very little info about it, and no tour guides around).

More of the same.

Looking back over a larger area of these walls.

Looking more to the left from the same place.

Down below the ruins were some terraces. I can only guess that these were not built by the Incas (because of the loose fitting rocks) … they must predate the Incas … having been built during the Kañari times.

From the gardens further below, looking back at the terraces.

Another view with more zoom.

Half way up the terraces, I saw this gated cave.

The sign says it is a ‘possible’ dwelling place for mummies …

Looking through the bars down toward the inside. I used a flash, but according to the sign above, it looks as if the cave is quite deep.

From the cave, looking down at the beautiful park area below. I did not go down there to explore because I was tired and it was late.

With full zoom, looking toward what I believe to be the view area from where I took photos just two days ago.

Three City Tour

As I later returned my boots to the tour agency (they weren’t supposed to be open after my Cajas tour, but I saw the owner on the street in front of open doors) … I talked to the agent and felt good about signing up for an early morning tour … the very next day.

At around 9:00 a.m., we met up at the agency. We were five adults and one child. Three of the adults were expats living in Cuenca … and one was the daughter of one of the expats (visiting).

I had fun visiting with all of them, picking their brains for information on living here … hmmmm … you never know.

We drove for nearly an hour, climbing higher and higher into the surrounding mountains (I think we were generally heading west).

More of the scenery.

I knew almost nothing about this tour when we started … I just felt a nudge to join it … and I loved the company and many of the places we went.

Our first stop was the village of “San Bartolome”, where we drove down a street famous for being a place for guitar makers. This is where we stopped – at a place called Uyaguari Guitars.

The family here is famous for their handmade guitars …

It is a very modest and humble adobe house, with a small workshop and large display area of guitars for sale. The only thing they showed us is how they do the pattern inlays on the face of the guitar.

They cut very small strips of wood … then dye them in various colors. Then they glue the colored strips together in various patterns. Finally, they cut up the glued wood and piece it meticulously together to form the patterns in the inlays.

The inlays I am talking about are the beautiful patterns that surround the hole to the acoustic chamber beneath the strings. That is not just a painted pattern. It is a fancy mosaic of colored wood chips.

The young man who gave us the demonstration of the inlays.

Part of an inlay being placed into this strip of wood … I believe this is just for showing an example.

They dig a groove in the wood and then fill it with the colored chips.

Kay and Joan, looking at things to buy. I just stood around at this point. I never buy anything (well almost never). I simply cannot carry stuff when traveling for so long, and would not know what to do with it if I did buy something.

A view from the guitar makers house. Our next stop is the town on the far side of the valley, up on that hill.

Another view of the area.

Some of the colored wood strips that they use to make the inlays. That is my hand touching them. They are thin wood, about 1/16 of an inch thick. Each dyed and ready to glue into a bigger pattern.

the young man doing our demonstration – and selling to my friends.

Joan, her daughter Judy, and grandson Garret, out enjoying the view while we wait.

As we passed this woman, our guide had the driver stop so he could talk to her. She is holding strands of some type of plant. These strands are hand woven into Panama Hats. Our tour does not show us this, but our guide wanted to make contacts for possible future tours.

Approaching our next town – a place renowned for its silver jewelry – all handmade (at least most of it).

Passing some of the plants (used for Panama Hats) that are drying by the side of the road.

… and more of the same plants.

One of the streets of this town.

I thought that Chaurinzhin was the name of the town, but that is the name of the area. The town had a different name.

I was surprised when there was no official tour in this town. We were just brought here to enjoy free exploring time … and to peruse the silver jewelry shops. I spent some time with my tour-mates in a shop … even considered buying some earrings … but didn’t find anything that appealed to me (and I was very limited on cash).

So I began to explore. The previous photo was the town square. This is a church in front of a cobblestone plaza next door.

Inside the church.

Looking back from the church.

I thought this little fountain (in the center of the park area) was cute.

And there were some very pretty plants growing in the park area.

More beautiful and unique flowers.

A different view of the park.

Soon, I briefly walked to the town market – a market I had seen from the van as we drove through town.

It was fun, but there was not much to see.

So very soon, I found myself back in the park, looking for more photo opportunities.

Such a fun variety of plants.

This street has giant silver earrings hanging from the light poles.

More flowers.

Finally, we loaded back up in the car and began to drive away. As we passed one house, the guide told us that he knew a family here that made the jewelry, and he asked if we would like to deviate from the tour to see if they would let us come inside.

Soon, we were inside watching how the pure silver is first put into bars, and then gradually formed into very thin silver wire.

In this photo, the man is holding two silver bars in his left hand. It starts out as tiny chunks and he melts them and puts them into a mold to form these bars.

Then the bars are repeatedly run through this hand operated press (with lots of groves in it) … gradually squishing the bars, making them longer, turning them into thinner rods.

Then the thinner rods are successively pulled through these various size holes, repeatedly until they get thinner and thinner.

This is the result of pulling the bars into wire. This is not a solid bar … it is tiny silver wire simply coiled up for easy handling.

Zooming in a bit to see that it is a coil of wire.

It takes hours and hours to make the wire. Then they take two strands of wire and wind them tightly together before flattening them again in the press. That final flattened wire has texture because of the two wires flattened together. That textured, flattened wire is then used to fill the patterns on the jewelry – jewelry like this one. Each area of this pendant is filled with tiny strands of that silver wire.

Someone noticed this little basket of silver earrings and asked if they could buy some. The tour soon turned into shopping. I actually bought one pair of these, and another pair with little red ruby-like stones in them – both pairs intricately made with this flattened silver wire.

I needed earrings and he sold us these solely by weight – the cost of the silver itself. I paid $25.00 for my two pair (total).

Our next stop was at a textile weaving factory – a family operated business. I have seen so many of these in my travels – all so similar – that I was not all that interested.

But I loved this turkey outside :).

Some of the demonstration, working with laying out the threads prior to weaving.

Apparently, in this part of the world, the women do the prep work and the men do the actual weaving. Don’t ask me why … that is just what they told us.

This woman is doing the finish fringe work on this shawl.

From upstairs, looking at the work area below.

A bench made from an old tree stump (or fat log).

Some of the hand-dyed yarn, made with natural colors.

The name of this place was “The house of Makana”.

After stopping at a yummy lunch place ($3.00 each, included in the tour), we began to return to Cuenca.

Aren’t we going to the Orchid Farm? I asked several of my friends on the tour. Every one of us was under the impression that we were – and that we would have to pay our own admission because it is not normally part of the tour. The travel agent told us all to bring extra money for that part because Judy had specifically asked if we could stop there.

Finally, we asked the tour guide when we were going to see the Orchids. He grumbled at us and told us that the Orchids are not part of the tour. I insisted that he call the travel agency to verify what we were telling him. Finally, after a grouchy phone call, he agreed to take us there. We had to backtrack almost 30 minutes … but it was well worth it. It was one of the main things that interested me in the first place.

This is the sign in front of this very large family-run, very professional Orchid farm. In this place they have something like 47 greenhouses, and grow 3500 different species of orchids that are native to Ecuador … plus another 3500 hybrid species that they are playing with.

The orchids start off as small numbers of seeds, planted into a fertile gelatin mix and sealed in bottles – then stored and monitored on shelves like these.

When the seeds grow and sprout to be large enough, they tediously remove them using tweezers, one by one, planting them in separate cups.

Part of a greenhouse growing the orchids.

Another huge area of a different greenhouse.

Our guide (from the family business – not our agency guide) took us into a room filled with hundreds of beautiful orchids … and there was so much variety it was mind boggling.

The next collection of photos is just a sampling of what was growing in that room. I selected some of my favorites.

If you use your imagination, you can easily see why these orchids are called “dancers”.

And this one is called the monkey face orchid. (Our guide had to pull back the top petal to reveal the face.

Some are extremely tiny.

We spent a long time enjoying that magical orchid room. Then we went outside for a short stroll. This beautiful peacock was in a large cage on the property.

… and next door were some beautiful birds … I think these are McCaws … but I am not an expert (nor do I know how to spell the name).

… another beautiful bird in the same cage.

Garret playing with a wheelbarrow. He was such a fun addition on the tour. We had a lot of fun turning our heads to make eye contact, grinning or giggling, and then turning around … repeating said action over and over.

The woman in pink is our tour guide. Her family has established and run the farm for a very long time. She spoke excellent English. That is Kay and Joan on the right. They both live here in Cuenca.

Following Intuitive Guidance

I wrote about this in a recent written blog entitled “Forget Everything You Know”, published on June 17, 2015.

Because I have already shared the story at the end of that blog, I will not go into much detail here. I simply want to share the beautiful photos that go along with the story.

Just to fill in a few details for background, It was just around 10:45 a.m. on June 17, 2015. I was struggling with a little writer’s block as I tried to write for my “friend project”. Rather than sit and stare, I followed guidance to get out of my room and to explore.

I found these beautiful dancers in the main Parque Calderon … waiting to begin some type of performance.

At this point, they were just rehearsing a little, going over their positions on the ground, and doing a lot of standing around and waiting. I did the same.

Still rehearsing.

I even followed them inside the cathedral, wondering why they would go inside there. For a few minutes, they were also rehearsing their positions for something inside.

Returning back outside, the street was closed, this pickup truck / float pulled up, with a large canopy on top, and some type of golden bible-like book on a pedestal.

Soon, the girls began their official performance.

Their dancing was very emotional and touching to me …

I was mesmerized by their energy and their costumes.

When the dance concluded, I noticed these military-like guards, guarding the truck.

A better view of the truck. As I took this photo, I noticed the poster talking about Pope John Paul II, taped inside the window.

I followed as a group of men removed the golden bible-like book from the truck and carried it on their shoulders, into the back of the cathedral. They stood there in the back for at least fifteen minutes. The dancers had gone inside to form a barrier, visually showing people the boundaries of where they should not pass.

The men just stood there, waiting for something, preparing to walk down the aisle.

Still there (with a little zoom).

… and a little more zoom. you can barely see the golden-colored bible-like book.

Finally, the Catholic priests came from the front of the cathedral to escort the precious item (I still did not know what it is).

Two of the nuns took the book off the tops of the shoulders of the men and handed it to the Priest, who carried it down the aisle.

By this time, the entire cathedral was nearly filled with reverent devotees.

As the procession neared the front of the cathedral, I began to leave …

Then I saw this poster by the front door. It explained everything. This “golden bible” somehow carried “The blood of Pope John Paul II” who died in 2005. It would be on display in Cuenca from June 17 to 20, 2015. Given that today was June 17, I realized that I was witnessing a room full of loving people who were welcoming the arrival of an emblem honoring a leader that they very much revered.

Following guidance, I returned inside to observe for a little longer. I started paying deep attention to what I was feeling. I was feeling an incredibly strong sensation of loving energy running through me – taking me almost to the point of tears. I realized that what I was feeling had nothing to do with the Catholics, or with any belief system in general — it was just pure simple divine love radiating from the people who were opening their hearts in the only way they knew how – in a genuine and pure way.

I wrote more details about how this affected me in the previously-referenced blog.

Summary

When I came to Cuenca, I really had no intention of staying for a week or more. I expected to spend a few days playing tourist and then move on.

But once I got here, and finished my fun tours, I felt deeply inspired to get caught up on my writing, and then on my photos – the whole idea brought me deep peace.

Now, as I enter my eighth night in this beautiful city, I am finally caught up with those tasks, and it feels great. I will likely stay here for maybe one more day, simply resting, enjoying the city, and maybe making a Skype call or two.

Perhaps I will move on this coming Monday … but you never know.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

On Sunday, June 7, 2015, I spent the morning traveling on a large speedboat, leaving Santa Cruz Island for the final time – headed toward San Cristobal Island.

When I had originally booked my flights, I was scheduled to leave the Galapagos Islands on June 6 – but earlier in the week, I had followed my heart and extended my stay by six days. As part of the flight change, I also changed airports. My final flight back to Guayaquil, Ecuador, would leave from San Cristobal Island – saving me yet another day of boat travel.

This post contains 170 photos telling the story of those magical final days in the Galapagos Islands.

As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.

CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION

This photo was taken on the boat dock as I prepared to leave Santa Cruz Island. The long ramp in the photo leads down to a small floating dock that raises and lowers with the tide. It is on the floating dock below where the water taxi will pick us up and take us out to our larger twenty-plus passenger speedboat.

Our boat leaves a very large wake as we zoom out into the rough Pacific waters.

In an attempt to have a more comfortable ride, while also staying dry, I sat as near to the back as I could, while still having a wall behind me.

The people who sat in the very back were often getting wet from the spray.

The couple to my right kept sliding to their left with every big bump of the boat. It was all I could to to lean into them to keep them from pushing me into the open air where I too would get sprayed.

Looking to the side of the boat as we continue forward.

At one point we pass very close to another island – Santa Fe.

After arriving at the port town of Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, I spent the first half hour finding a place to sleep. I found a delightful little hotel with feel-good modern rooms and air-conditioning – all for $25 per night. It was a little more than I wanted to pay, but still very affordable.

Soon, after grabbing some lunch and making reservations for another day of scuba diving, I was out exploring the town – heading toward a nearby Interpretation Center inside the boundaries of the National Park.

This is the parking are of the “Centro De Interpretacion San Cristobal”

Inside the main visitor area, I found this relief map of the Galapagos Islands. If you click to enlarge you may be able to follow along as I describe my journey thus far.

I am standing in the south, looking toward the north. The island in the very middle of the photo is Santa Cruz – and Baltra Island (where the airport is) is a tiny island perched on its northern shores.

The large island at the left middle is Isabela. I spent three days in the lower (southern) part of this island, exploring shorelines and volcanoes. The equator runs left to right through the northern part of this island.

The little island in the lower center is Floreana. I did a day tour to this island.

And the island at the far right center of the map is San Cristobal, where I am now, preparing to explore for five days. It too has a small airport – one that is only a fifteen minute walk from town.

A closeup of Isabela Island. As with the other islands, it was created by volcanoes. This is the newest of the islands. Looking at the relief map, you can see that there are shallow areas directly around it … but then it drops off deep to the ocean floor. The Equator runs through the top of this island.

And a look at San Cristobal Island (on the map) … I am at the left center corner of the island. This is the oldest island. Just like the Hawaiian Islands, the volcanic action below the ocean surface created all of the islands … but the tectonic plates shift, and as an already-formed island moves to the east, another island begins to form in the west.

This beautiful and peaceful path wanders through the National Park, beginning just above the Interpretation Center.

I loved the energy out here … and just as was the case on Santa Cruz Island, I felt strongly guided that I would soon be doing a ceremony out here (not today). Those are Candelabro cactus trees on the right.

More of the trail. That is an Opuntia cactus tree in the center. I love these …

Looking up toward the top of a hill. I see a lookout-platform up there, and soon discover that the trail I am following gives me an option to climb up the hill.

As I reach the first of two platforms, I see this sign talking about the “Tijereta” birds (Frigate birds). Not knowing for sure what I was looking for, I looked everywhere on this hike, not finding a single one. I was looking for the red sack on their upper chest.

The hill I am on is named “Cerro Tijereta” (Frigate Hill) – so I really hoped to see some.

Looking down at a gorgeous little bay below. This is a favorite snorkeling site. I never did go into the water here.

I giggle in retrospect. If you click to enlarge (you can barely see it at the left edge of the photo where the ocean meets the sky) – there is a Tijereta bird in my photo.

A sign by the upper platform on this same hill. It talks about a trail that leads to a beach a couple of kilometers away. I decide that sounds fun and start to walk.

Looking down from the start of this trail.

At first, the trail is barely passable – but vegetation is very much crowding the walking space.

It is gorgeous with all of the green.

I loved this place…

So lush and green.

Me, on the path. I was wearing my bikini and swim dress – but never went into the water today.

I walked until the trail started down the backside of the hill. At that point, it was so overgrown that it would be hard to even know if I was still on the trail.

As I pondered my next move, I first looked down and found lots of prickly leaves stuck to my dress, all around me. In this photo I had already peeled them off, leaving behind the green juice and portions of the leaves that refused to let go. I giggled as I realized I was covered all over with these leaves. They were thin enough that when I tried to pull them off, most of them just tore and disintegrated.

I took a photo of one of the leaves stuck to my bag – before trying to get it off.

As I walked back to the platforms, I learned to be very careful – and to even identify which of the many plants had the leaves that loved to cling. I still got covered by them, and continually had to peel more of them off of me. I decided I did not want to walk this trail under such conditions LOL.

Soon, I began to move back down the steps that led to the bottom of the hill.

Another view below, taken from the trail.

From down below, looking back up toward the platform above. If you look closely, you can barely see it at the top.

As I approached the beautiful bay below, I noticed several snorkelers – and lots of sea lions. I noted that I would love to snorkel here – but never got around to it.

Sea lions enjoying the small dock. I noticed that it would be very hard to keep the required distance of two yards if I were to try to get into the water.

A beautiful little cove with very clear water.

Soon, as I resume walking, I see a spider web – similar to one I had seen on Santa Cruz. The large spider in the middle appears to have four very large white legs … but it has the normal eight smaller legs.

Instead, those four white lines leaving the spider are intricately woven patterns in the web. I apologize for the poor focus in this photo. My camera focused on the rock behind and left the spider and web in the blur.

A statue of Charles Darwin, along with a turtle, a sea lion, and a marine iguana.

A map of the Galapagos, showing the route that Darwin traveled around – click to enlarge to read the words and see the lines on the map.

Zooming in on the animals below Darwin’s statue.

Looking back down toward the snorkeling area as I continue on the loop trail.

A beautiful Candelabro cactus with the bay behind.

And yeah … uh … this lizard says hello.

I love the unique natural landscape all around me.

I was shocked to see this old machine gun. A nearby sign says it was placed here in 1979, and was used in a border war between Ecuador and Peru. My photo of the sign was so faint that I did not include it here.

As I continued on the trail, I came to this gorgeous beach. The sand here was quite coarse, so I really didn’t enjoy walking on it.

But it appears that the sea lions don’t mind the coarseness of the sand. They are rolling all over in it.

Me, back on the main path, walking barefoot.

I think my camera lens is a little smudged.

More Candelabro cactus with beautiful red bulbs protruding from them.

Minutes later, I found myself back at the interpretation center, feeling hungry and tired … so I returned to town, changed clothes, got some dinner, and enjoyed a relaxing evening in my air conditioned hotel room (It is very hot and humid here).

Scuba At Kicker Rock (Leon Dormido)

On Monday morning, June 8, 2015, I went to a local dive shop to collect the scuba gear that I had tried on the day before. There were two of us from my dive shop – joining up with people from other dive shops – all headed out on a joint scuba adventure together.

I was surprised that our boat came in to the main dock – no need for a water taxi – and I LOVED the boat.

Even the message painted on the wall was relaxing – Stop, Breathe, Think

Those are our air tanks in the bottom left.

I soon learned that we had two groups of divers and one group of snorkelers, all on the same boat. It worked out surprisingly well.

Our destination was “Kicker Rock”. Another name for the same place is “Leon Dormido” which means Sleeping Lion. Some say, that when seen from a distance, from a certain angle, the little island looks like a sleeping lion.

I did not take many photos out on the water. Before taking this photo, there was quite a bit of history.

First, on our outward journey, we stopped for a test-dive to check our equipment and weights. Then we did a dive on another side of this huge rock island. Then we ate a yummy lunch.

In this photo, we are preparing to take our second dive, here in this spot. We do not go through it, but there is a little passage in the middle (white spot) that goes clear through the rock.

The whole reason I signed up for the scuba dive here is because I wanted to see hammerhead sharks. It is quite common to see them here … and is in fact unusual NOT to see them.

Me, in my wet suit, preparing for our second dive of the day. I quickly put my camera away, put on my gear, and dived in.

We looked and looked. The currents were strong here, and our dive master had us grab onto a rock, about forty feet down. Finally, in slightly cloudy water, I barely caught a glimpse of a hammerhead shark … but it was so far away, and moved so quickly, that I was not able to enjoy it much.

But yes, I did see one hammerhead – on two separate glimpse occasions.

After this dive, we began our return journey, with a stop at a beautiful beach area.

Our boat backed up to a point where we could step off in only a foot or two of water.

The sand here is also very coarse and hard to walk in … but the scenery is gorgeous.

Having just spent the day diving, I opted not to swim again … just having fun on the shore.

My hair was wet and tangled because of previous diving.

My new friend Kate (on the right with her hair pulled up in back). We had a lot of fun talking and I even shared my story with her. She was part of the snorkeling side of the trip.

One of many marine iguanas hanging out here and there.

And these beautiful crabs are plentiful everywhere I go.

A closeup of the very coarse sand. It hurt the bottom of my feet to walk barefoot.

Some of my group exploring in the distance. I was tired and rested most of my time here.

Back on our magical boat, headed back to port. This is looking toward the front of the boat. that little gate in the middle was removed, and we dove into the water from there.

In this photo, you can barely see that huge rock out there on the horizon (left side). That is Kicker Rock – or Leon Dormido.

Some of my tour-mates resting on the return journey.

It was fun to get a different view (from the boat) of this area. That hill is where I was hiking yesterday afternoon … and the bay at the right center is where the people were snorkeling.

Preparing to go around that point with the lighthouse.

And now, with the lighthouse in the foreground, we can see Puerto Baquerizo Moreno in the background. About 6,000 residents live on this island, most of them right here.

Another view of the town here.

Coming closer to the docks.

… and closer still.

… and now turning the final corner. We will stop right where that small water taxi currently sits.

Ceremony Day

On June 9, 2015, I followed my guidance and did another medicine ceremony, beginning in my hotel room, and then spending a lot of time on the trails that I hiked two days earlier.

Highland Tour

On June 10, 2015, I joined two other people in a private tour of the Highland areas of San Cristobal Island.

I arrived early at the travel agency, so after checking in I walked across the street to snap a few photos.

I loved this bird drying his wings in the sun. He almost reminds me of a flasher opening his cape (you will need to click to enlarge to see details).

And more of those beautiful reddish-orange crabs.

And there are sea lions all over this port area. They would be all over the town too if it weren’t for the fences that try to keep them out. One day I saw some policemen looking into a drain channel (under a grating) that crossed the street. Feeling curious, I looked too. There was a sea lion trapped in there. The men were trying to figure out how to free the sea lion without violating their “no touching” rules.

This is the “Darwin Scuba” tourist agency that arranged both my scuba diving and now my highland tour.

This sign shows the three main places that we will visit on the tour. I will talk about them later.

Our vehicle for the tour (belongs to the travel agency).

Our first stop is in the middle of this side of the island, at a small mountain pass near an old volcano. I think we are about 2500 feet (800 meters) above sea level.

This is a trail that leads to the top of this ancient volcano. We are told that there is a freshwater lake inside the crater.

Some vegetation along the trail as we climb.

Looking up at part of the trail.

A view from the trail, looking away from the volcano. It really is a completely different climate up here – very wet and cool … and green.

Looking down at a lake below the volcano. This is NOT the one in the crater.

A sign at the top of the trail. We are on top of “Junco” volcano.

The sign talks about a wind park for renewable electricity. I am not sure if this exists somewhere or is just being proposed.

When we looked into the crater, all we could see was fog …

But soon, as I felt some wind blowing, the fog began to blow away. In this photo we can barely begin to see the lake in the crater.

The fog continues to lift.

… getting more clear all the time.

Finally, the fog is gone and we have a beautiful view of this “Junco Lake”.

My two tour-mates and I began to walk around the rim following a trail. It got increasingly muddy and slippery and we soon decided to stop and turn around.

A view from our hike, looking back toward the place where we had first seen the lake.

We hiked to this gorgeous moss-covered tree … and a little bit beyond … before turning around. If you look two photos back, you can see this same tree off in the far distance.

A closeup of one branch of the tree.

After leaving Volcano Junco, we resumed our drive to the other side of the island. Yes, that is ocean down there.

The climate is shifting again. I remember asking my guide if there were Opuntia Cactus trees here … and he said yes, but  not yet, we have to get further down close to the shore.

Our first stop was a small restaurant where we ordered our meals – to be eaten on our return trip. They had many bundles of bananas here, and our guide told us to eat what we wanted. I gobbled down three or four of them (I had skipped breakfast) – they were so yummy (grown right here on the property).

I loved seeing these chickens running around in front of the SUV … reminded me a lot of Guatemala.

Our next stop was the Turtle Breeding Station here on San Cristobal Island. Their mission here is much like the one I visited on Isla Isabela – to repopulate the indigenous variety of Land Tortoises.

A very large turtle.

This one just had his interest peaked. A man just brought a bunch of branches for the turtles to eat, and the turtle just got excited.

He quickly gets up on all fours and begins slowly walking toward the food.

This is the man moving the food around, spreading it out.

He is running as fast as he can (very slowly).

Meanwhile, another turtle begins walking – this one is closer to the food.

And a third turtle takes interest, hurrying slowly from the other side.

The second turtle arrives first, beginning to excitedly dig in, enjoying the feast.

The third turtle is almost there, arriving on the “leaf end” of the plants.

… yum yum …

… and gobble gobble …

Finally, the first turtle to move has almost caught up with the others.

Move over, it is my turn …

A while later, enjoying one of the trees endemic only to the Galapagos.

And now we are in the nursery, looking at the babies. If I remember correctly, these are four to six months old.

And this one is a year or two old.

… hello there.

An interesting tree. The sign reads,”The matazarno tree only grows in the dry zones of San Cristobal and Santa Cruz. It is so resistant that in the first dock made on the island with this wood, the metal parts corroded while the posts remained undamaged.

I am fascinated by how many endemic plants and animals there are – species that only exist in the Galapagos.

The trunk of this “Matazarno” tree.

This is one of those poisonous Manzanillo trees – the turtles can eat these apples, but they are poisonous to most who would even just touch them.

Soon, our driver pulls into the parking lot for Puerto Chino.

It takes about fifteen minutes as we walk down this beautiful trail toward the beach.

I love this view.

The water and sand here are beautiful.

Before playing on the beach we first climbed this nearby hill.

Looking down at this gorgeous beach as seen from the top of the hill.

Some blue foot boobies posing to greet us.

This one is especially cute.

Me, on top of the hill … just before we climbed back down to the beach.

I strongly debated if I wanted to get all wet in the ocean here … but when my tour mates headed out into the water, I decided to put on my bikini and join them.

I swam for a good half hour before returning to shore to dry off and change back into my clothes. Meanwhile, the other two people on my tour remained in the water.

There were biting horseflies on the beach so I went back up on the hill to meditate and breathe in the view.

After a while, the young woman on our tour called up to me and asked if I wanted photos of me on the hill. She went to my backpack, got my camera, and snapped these photos for me.

It is hard to see, but that is me in the upper right of the photo, standing with my arms outstretched. Click to enlarge if you wish to see.

Another one with me standing up … she took a lot of photos. I am just including a few of them.

Me, with a little more zoom.

Eventually, we left to the beach and returned to the restaurant where we enjoyed a delicious meal of fried trout. We then retraced our steps, returning to Puerto Baquerize Moreno about an hour later.

La Loberia

Being back in town with plenty of daylight to spare, I indulged my curiosity about a place called “La Loberia” – a beach on the other side of town – one that I had been told you could walk to.

When I asked my tour guide how long the walk was, he told me that I could do it in about fifteen minutes. It was only later that I realized he and I were on different pages. His fifteen minutes was “from the parking lot” … and I assumed it was from the town.

Using my rudimentary city map, I followed the pointers until I began following this road. It lead round the end of the airport and just kept going and going …

I was not even fully sure if I was on the right road … but all of my inner compasses said that I was.

After at least a half hour, I passed near this huge rock formation. It is a construction area where rocks appear to be mined for building materials … and I also saw piles of city trash down in one of the holes there …

I loved the texture of these plants beside the road.

Finally I reached the parking area and began following the real trail.

A sign saying “Do not touch the sea wolves” … I finally figured out that our Sea Lions, are actually Lobos Marinos (Sea Wolves) in Spanish.

Finally, after a long walk, I came to a place that looked as if it were my destination. Some people swimming there confirmed my suspicion.

It was low tide, and the water was very low. It looks as if this would be an incredible place to snorkel … but alas I did not bring any gear, and it was late in the day.

Instead, I went hiking a little further up the shoreline. There was a sign here pointing to the trail, so I don’t think I was exploring in forbidden or restricted areas.

When I paid attention, I could see marine iguanas all over. They blend in well with the black lava rock.

Looking back at the little inlet of “La Loberia” – which would translate something like “The area of Sea Lions”.

The shoreline was mostly made up of these large, very porous, lava rocks. I had very good traction as I walked across them.

Two little birdies enjoying the day.

And finally, after taking a taxi back to town, I am back in my delightful hotel room, resting and enjoying the company of Bobby-bear and Brenda-doll.

A Final Full Day

By June 11, 2015, I was feeling quite ready to move on, leaving the Galapagos Islands behind. I was not interested in any more tours or swimming / snorkeling adventures. I just wanted to rest and integrate.

For part of this day, I took a delightful walk, back out onto the trails that I had twice explored earlier in the week.

Me, out on the trail again, still enjoying a huge grin on my face.

For several weeks now, I have noticed that I have been smiling so much that I have tan lines in the wrinkles that form when I smile. I took this photo to illustrate that silly fact. If you click to enlarge you can see more clearly. What you see in this photo are  not wrinkles – that is just my face without smiling … and the white lines are just areas that have not seen much sun …

Ever since I was little, I had dimples and smile-wrinkles that formed around my eyes when I would smile. I hated the smile-wrinkles so much that I stopped smiling so I would not look stupid (or so I thought) ….

Finally I have learned to love my little smile wrinkles … and I love having them.

Finally, a spider photo with perfect focus on the spider. I loved watching for the details along the trail.

As I climb back up to the lookout platforms, this lizard stops to say hello.

A gorgeous view looking down below. The water is especially calm this morning. It would be a perfect time to snorkel if I wanted to. I can see the bottom down there from all the way up here.

Zooming in on that beautiful water below. The bottom is so clear.

Enjoying the view with bare feet and painted toes.

I took another run at this trail on top of the hill, trying to be very careful with those sticky leaves.

A tour guide had come through while I was sitting here. He took a group back there. I asked him where the “Tijeretas” (Frigate Birds) might be found … and he told me to walk about 100 yards and to take a little side trail on the left.

Finally, I saw them up close. Sure enough, they are the same birds I saw flying around earlier in the week. I had been looking for smaller birds with a red chest.

As I looked at these majestic birds, I remember seeing some of then on Isabela Island – and I remember being curious about why some of them had a red sack hanging from their neck. I can only assume that the red sack, when inflated, becomes the big red puffy chest that one sees in photos.

None of these birds had the red sack.

Another one in the tree below me.

And looking back toward the snorkeling site with a different vantage point.

One of the Tijereta birds, head on. These birds get their name from the Spanish word for scissors. When these birds fly, their tails are split like scissors.

Looking back toward Puerto Baquerizo Moreno, from high above this hill.

A Striking Morning

Early in the morning of Friday, June 12, 2015, I was resting in bed when at around 6:00 a.m. I heard loud noises on the streets outside. I didn’t go outside to check, but it sounded as if people were banging large sticks against pots and pans, while simultaneously shouting.

“I wonder what they are protesting about?” I questioned as I remembered having  seen a large protest in a nearby park, just three days earlier on Tuesday night.

In fact, as I ate lunch the next day, a woman in the restaurant had turned to a news channel on the television. They were talking about how the “Lei de Galapagos” (Galapagos Law) had just passed in their government – and there was a lot of talk about peoples anger at the law. It is only after leaving the Galapagos that I discovered that, due to the high cost of living here, the people’s wages are all subsidized to make it possible for them to survive. This new law takes away that subsidy, and also takes away their ability to fly to the mainland for free. I can understand now why they would be so worried. In the Tuesday night protest I understood several phrases (but not most) indicating that they were afraid they would not be able to survive living here any more.

Back to Friday morning …

As I walked out of my hotel around 8:00 a.m. to find some breakfast, the streets were mostly bare and all the restaurants appeared closed. I saw a row of taxis parked on the street a half block away. They were totally blocking the road, allowing no traffic flow.

Immediately, I wondered if I was in the middle of a major strike. I flashed back to two days in Calca, Peru, where the entire town was completely shut down.

One of the hotel managers walked by as I returned inside and I asked him what was going on. He said it is a Paro (Strike).

“Will I be able to get food? … and Will I be able to fly out of the airport today?” I asked him.

He just shrugged his shoulders and said he didn’t know.

I set off on my own exploration to try to find out. First as I walked beneath a restaurant across the street, one whose doors were closed, a woman called out from the balcony above and asked if I wanted breakfast. I said “Yes” and she told me to just walk through the closed door and come upstairs. Soon I was eating a small breakfast nest to a young boy, in a very crowed space.

After that, I set off to explore the walking route to the airport. I wanted to see what was happening there, and had never walked out in that direction until today.

Ten minutes later I approached a large crowd of people who were blockading the road, right in front of the airport gate. Behind the crowd, on the other side, was a huge gathering of riot police all decked out in shields and helmets. They were lined up about ten rows deep and about fifty feet wide, making sure the crowd did not enter the airport property.

Feeling safe, I got closer to watch what was happening. I really wanted to know if I would be able to fly today. I observed several travelers (Spanish speakers) pulling suitcases toward the left side of the blockade. Immediately the crowd began to shout and gather on the left side, forming a barrier at least ten people deep, very  tightly packed. Every time the travelers tried to push through, the crowd shifted to block them. There was no violence taking place, but loud words were being shouted, and there was lots of jostling and shoving to keep the barricade solid.

“I guess I will not be flying out of the airport today,” I told myself as I began to walk away, having satisfied my curiosity.

I never waited to see what  happened to those travelers. Soon, as I was nearly a block away, a woman approached me asking me if I wanted to go to the airport. I told her that I have a flight today. She said she worked for the government as was escorting two other people into the airport … and said that they WOULD get through. She insisted that I come with her. I told her I did not have my luggage with me but I wanted to talk to the airline … and she kept insisting that I come with her … so I did.

I went right up to the blockade with her as she pulled the two other travelers into the jostling crowd – a crowd that quickly began to to argue and push back. I decided to leave and started to walk away and the woman called out and motioned for me, insisting that I trust her and keep coming. After they jostled for another minute or two, I turned and left when she was not looking. I wanted to get through the blockade, but did not want to do so without my luggage. And I did not want to do it if I would be risking a physical confrontation. Both options seemed stupid to me.

I walked back to the hotel and had the hotel clerk help me call the airline. The first person I talked to told me they would move my flight to tomorrow, with no fees, but we got cut off and I called back. The second person I talked to told me that they were flying today, and that I should try to get through the blockade. She reassured me that other people were getting through … and that once they reached the police line that the police would step aside to let them safely pass.

I bounced back and forth for a half hour – trying to decide what to do. Finally I connected with my peaceful heart and decided to pack up my bags, check out of the hotel, and to give it a try – knowing that the worst that could happen is that I would end up back at my hotel for another night or two.

As I pulled my luggage through the streets toward the airport, I noted that people had constructed more barricades, beginning to pile large clumps of weeds and grass in the middle of the streets in order to stop people from walking or driving through.

I took a deep breath and remembered a recent Matt Kahn video. Following Matt’s inspired advice, I put my intention out there … asking the Universe to help me connect with the Higher Consciousness of all of these people, while doing so with my own Higher Consciousness. I pulled my suitcase up on the sidewalk and skirted around the first barricade.

Soon, one by one, several people approached me, kindly telling me that the airport is closed, that no flights are leaving, and that I would not be able to get through. I just thanked them, telling them the airport is not closed, and kept walking. No one tried to stop me, even though several people approached me at different times.

A block later, I approached another barricade that was hurriedly being built with more grass and weeds to block the road. Again, I just walked around it with no problem.

As I approached the airport gates, the crowd was two or three times larger than when I was there earlier, but I just kept walking, noticing that I seemed almost invisible. People were just mulling around in small groups, leaving enough space that I could squeeze around them here and there … and I just kept going as if no one could see me.

It was not until I was about five feet from the police that someone even attempted to stop me. A man reached out and grabbed my suitcase handle, jerking it backward, telling me I could go no further. I pulled back, not letting go, and engaged in a 10 second tug-of-war with him. Meanwhile, a local angel came to my aide. A loving woman in her forties came over and scolded the man, shaming him in Spanish, telling him to let go and to let me pass.

Seconds later, I was hurrying through a tunnel of police. They parted just enough that I could squeeze between them … and then closed up right behind me.

I never stopped feeling peaceful through the whole adventure. After passing through these policemen, I went into the airport, checked in, dropped off my luggage, and took a seat. They told me that they were not yet sure if we would be taking off … but it was still possible.

After a while, I stepped outside to snap a few photos. I wish I had photos from the other side, but I had been burdened down with luggage and the last thing on my mind was my camera.

This is a photo of the back side of the police barricade on the airport side. In front of those police in the brown uniforms, you can see many of the riot police in their full gear.

Same photo, without a zoom. I didn’t want to get too close to the police line … I wanted to stay uninvolved.

Meanwhile, I noticed that people kept streaming into the airport, seeming to come from different directions. A few were in vehicles, and were accompanied by police. Others were straggling in from the left. I put two and two together to realize that they were being guided through a different back-door gate, bypassing the barricade completely.

I was still quite happy for having had my own adventure – a story to tell.

I giggled when I later noticed these coast guard officers coming in to back up the police on the airport side.

Meanwhile, back inside the airport … this is a look at the Tame check-in gates … there are still more people arriving and checking in.

Exploring the grounds in front of the airport.

Later, I walked back to the police line, taking a few more photos from closer up. By now, many more officers where here at the back of the lines.

And another photo from further away.

A statue of the head of a blue foot boobie (or maybe a red foot one).

Finally we are allowed to pass through security. They seemed to low in staffing (obviously), and no one was running the X-Ray machine for luggage. Instead, a woman searched my carry-on stuff by hand.

I sat in the secure waiting area for another hour. Finally, at about 30 minutes after our scheduled departure time, I giggled when a large Tame jet landed, arriving from Guayaquil.

“Yes,” I celebrated, “we are flying out today … my plane has arrived.”

After unloading the arriving passengers and luggage, I was shocked by how fast they let us board the plane. Within ten minutes of this plane landing, we were already boarding, and soon we were in the air.

Taking off … saying goodbye to San Cristobal Island. I was happy to be on my way. I later learned that the Baltra Airport by Santa Cruz had been completely shut down, with no flights coming or going. I felt very lucky to continue my journey as scheduled.

And I felt very grateful for the peace that had kept me company throughout the entire morning.

Final goodbye views of San Cristobal Island.

And another …

Meanwhile, inside the plane …

Flying high …

Arriving over the mainland of Ecuador, near the Guayaquil area. I am surprised by how high the rivers are below me … and many of the fields appear flooded.

Another similar photo.

Preparing to land in Guayaquil.

And we are on the ground, with flaps up.

After collecting my luggage, I was hoping to catch a night bus to Cuenca, arriving there in the morning. I had a taxi take me straight to the bus station.

I soon discovered that the bus ride was only four hours, and that if I left now, I would arrive around 9 or 10 at night. I never like to arrive in a new place after dark, so I opted instead to return to the same hostel in Guayaquil where I had spent my first night in Ecuador.

Summary

It was a magical sixteen days and fifteen nights on the Galapagos Islands … an adventure I will never forget … but I have to say I was very happy to again be moving forward in my journey.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

On Saturday, May 30, 2015, I left Santa Cruz Island (in the Galapagos) for a three day / two night tour to Isla Isabela (Isabela Island).

This post contains 174 photos telling the story of that magical journey. On the first day, after arriving, I was on my own to find a hotel and then explore. On the second day, I had a snorkeling tour to “Los Tuneles”, and on day three I had a scheduled tour to “Volcan Sierra Negra”, after which I embarked on a return journey back to Santa Cruz.

As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.

CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION

In the boat, heading out on the open waters. It was very bumpy, with the front of the boat rising high over the swells and then slamming back down, as if I were dropping five feet onto concrete … and yes, I was near the front of the boat.

The entire journey took over two and a half hours.

Me, at the front of the boat, managing to smile in spite of the rough ride.

After locating a delightful little hostal for $20 per night (with air conditioning), I set off to explore. Soon, I decided to rent a bicycle and follow a six kilometer trail out to the west of town.

This map (if you click to enlarge) shows the route, out through the “Complejo Los Humedades”.

In places the trail was so sandy that I had to walk my bicycle … and in other places so steep that I also had to walk. But most of it was very easy, and delightful riding.

The first kilometer or two was along the beach, not yet on National Park land. This is the first sandy area where I had to walk.

The beaches here are incredible. If I had known this before coming, I would not have scheduled my return boat ride … giving me a few extra days to just enjoy the surf.

I spent a little time out here wading in up to my chest … and you could walk way out there before being over your head.

Most of the road was more like this … very nice for bicycles.

This is my little red transport.

Another beach area where I had to walk through the thick, loose sand.

I soon passed by this local cemetery. I don’t know why, but I have always been fascinated by the history you find in places like this.

Finally, I reached the boundary of the National Park area. From here, the trail continues about five kilometers (around three miles).

Continuing down the road. It is lined on both sides by thick brush, and is off limits to explorers.

Every so often, there were signs pointing off to little side trails that took you to interesting places.

The trail leads to a small freshwater lake. I rode my bicycle most of the way … and did not notice until I left that I was supposed to leave it at the smaller trail’s entrance.

This is the lake.

Another sign leading to “Green Wells”

This sign, by the “Green Wells” talks about how different species have come through cracks in the rocks to make the mangrove roots their homes.

… and this is “Green Wells” … a mangrove pond with a murky color caused by the mangrove roots.

The next trail leads to a lookout area for “Los Tunos”

I follow every single one of these side trails. When I reach the end of this one, I discover that “Los Tunos” is another lake.

A part of the lake looking left.

This one reads “Beach of Love” or “Lover’s Beach”

It is a small, rocky beach … with signs that talk about how it is still in the early stages of forming a more developed, sandy beach, waiting for the natural erosion …

By the beach is this little trail to the “Tunnel of Estero”

This little trail is on top of lava, and is only a couple hundred feet long.

Looking down into the tunnel.

Looking inside with more zoom … there are even a few fish in here.

This sign points toward the end of the road I am following, telling me that the “Wall of Tears” is still four kilometers away. This is the only way I know how long the trail is (more or less).

This sign points to a “round well”.

… and here it is.

I giggled when I read this sign: “Iguana Crossing … Please drive slowly”.

The first iguana I saw along the road.

Same iguana without the zoom.

“Merengue Bridge”

I followed this trail to “El Estero” … really enjoyed the walk, but never found the destination. The tide was flooding the trail and I didn’t want to get wet.

Parking my bicycle for this trail side-trip.

Part of the beautiful trail scenery.

Another sign warning about the poison apples … it seems these apples are common in the Galapagos.

A sign talking about four different species of mangrove trees. Click to enlarge if you want to read it.

And a sign about the “Majagua Zone” ahead. I don’t pay much attention until I see what it is talking about.

… but first, a lizard stopped to say hello to me.

This is part of the Majagua – trees that grow to form tunnels like this one.

After going through the tunnel, I reached the ocean waters, enclosed by mangrove trees. I could go no further. I tried taking a different side trail that I had passed, but it too ended at high waters … I never did find out what the “Estero” is.

This is where the second trail began to get very wet from high tide waters.

Another lizard climbed this tiny stump to point me in the right direction.

Back on the main road, I soon pass a sign that reads “Path of the Turtles”. I look and look, but never see any turtles along this road.

The bridge from a previous sign – (Merengue) … there is another sign about the poison apples. They are fallen on the ground all over this area.

I thought this sign was cute … I don’t think it needs an explanation.

Some of those very poisonous apples.

And finally, back on open road, continuing forward.

A moving shot while pedaling forward.

Another sign warning to please be careful around the land tortoises.

In this photo I can finally see a lookout tower on the top of this small hill ahead. I had to get off and walk my bicycle up most of the road leading to the base of the trail.

The sign says this is a “lookout tower” called “Orchilla Hill”.

Again, I had to leave my bicycle at the bottom of the hill … then climbing up steep trail to the top of the hill.

Part of the trail.

Some of the trail was on very rough lava rock.

From the top of the tower, looking back toward the village where I began my bike ride. It is way out there on the horizon, left middle.

Same as the previous photo, only this one has full zoom. The town in the distance is called Puerto Villamil. That is where my hotel is located.

Looking off in the opposite direction. I love the view here.

Looking down at the road I just climbed.

And looking down in the other direction at the road I have yet to follow.

A delightful bird stopped to visit with me on the way back down the trail.

Finally I arrive at the “Wall of Tears” or “El Muro de las Lagrimas”.

You can read all of the details if you click to enlarge the photo.  Essentially, there used to be a small prison colony here between 1946 and 1959. There is a wall of rocks left behind here, symbolizing one of the walls of the prison area.

This reads “In memory of those that suffered and died here.”

You can see the rock wall in the distance.

Getting closer to this tall wall – the wall of tears.

Another bird stops to greet me.

I love all of the unique vegetation that I pass.

Closeup, beside the base of the wall.

Steps leading around the wall to the back side. I follow them.

The other side (back side) of the same wall.

As I walk to the far end of the wall, I find this sign. In Spanish it reads “Area of imprisonment of animals that were introduced (non-endemic)” … but in English it reads “Introduced animals Hunting Area – no entry”.

A lizard stops to connect with me.

A closeup of a nearby cactus.

Rather than walking back the way I came, I follow a different path. At the parking area, I had noticed a different trail, and the one I am on looks as if it will meet up with that one if I continue. It turns out that I am right.

As I walk back to the area where my bicycle is parked, this group of local people ride by on their horses.

On the way back To Puerto Villamil, I stop at this “Opuntia” tree sign, because I really want to remember what they are called. These are gorgeous trees with a pine-tree-like trunk, but with leaves like prickly-pear cactus.

A photo of this tree.

An iguana pauses to stare at me … I think he likes me.

After seeing the iguana, I ride my bicycle back to town. It is only on the way back that I realize I was climbing most of the way and that now I get to coast most of the way back. It was a lot faster, especially without stopping at every little side trail.

Once back in town, I decide to follow a different road … one that leads to the “Centro de Crianca de Tortugas Terrestres” (Center of raising of Land Tortoises”

A cute sign, honoring the people who funded the building of the center.

A large turtle near the entrance.

As I walk through the grounds, I learn that this is a center that is attempting to repopulate the turtles that are indigenous to Isabela Island – they have some older breeding turtles here, and when the turtles lay eggs, the people here protect and care for all of them, raising them from infancy until they are four or five years old – old enough to survive in the wild on their own.

Apparently, many non-indigenous species of animals (such as rats) create a danger to the young turtles. The rats actually chew on the baby turtles while they are alive, killing them.

A bunch of smaller turtles. I think these are a year or two old.

As far as I remember, the turtle population on Isabela Island was very small and declining. Now, there are hundreds of these indigenous turtles (unique to Isabela) being raised here in preparation to be released back into their natural habitat.

A map of the lower part of Isabela Island, showing the various areas that are natural habitats for these turtles. Even when clicking to enlarge this photo, it is difficult to read the details. There are yellow areas marked on the map that show the specific locations.

Another turtle, a little older, enjoying a pool.

The youngest of the turtles are kept in cages to protect them from rats etc…

These are about six inches in diameter – probably less than a year old.

Back in Puerto Villamil, near the small town plaza. According to Wikipedia, about 2,200 people live in this small port town (the only population center on the island).

The streets are all covered in packed sand … and most people walk or ride bicycles.

A nearby street.

The beautiful little town plaza.

The little store where I rented my bicycle for $2.00 per hour. I am really glad I paid the money to do my fun trip.

This is my little hotel – “Volcano Hotel”.

And Bobby-bear and Brenda-doll agree with me that the room is delightful and comfortable. The air conditioning is quiet and very efficient. I am so grateful for the cool air every time I walk into my room.

Los Tuneles

On May 31, 2015, I took an all day snorkeling tour to “Los Tuneles” (The Tunnels). During the first snorkeling part of the tour I was only five or six feet away from a small group of darling Galapagos Penguins. And then, our guide found a large “sea horse” about eight feet down, clinging to a plant down there. I have seen small sea horses before, but never one that large – at least eight to ten inches tall.

After snorkeling in our first location, we went to the “Tunnels” area – which is a lava rock area in the middle of the ocean waters (near shore), with lots of little lava bridges everywhere.

Afterwards, we went snorkeling at a different area where I was less than ten feet away from several very large white-tip sharks.

I have no photos of the snorkeling portions of the tour. Following are photos from the “Tunnels” area.

A view from our boat as we slowly cruise into the Tunnels area.

Mangroves growing around the lava.

Some Blue Foot Boobies hanging out on the rocks.

A sea lion doing what sea lions on land do.

A different view of the sea lion, with some young Opuntia cactus growing just next door.

The Galapagos rocky shorelines are covered with such beautiful red crabs.

Another Blue Footed Boobie.

These birds with blue feet have a very distinct look – I love their eyes and facial expressions.

I was among the first off the boat. Here, I am looking back at others climbing onto the shore.

This area is gorgeous – abundant with lava bridges and unique landscape / wildlife.

More lava tunnels and towering “Candelabro” cactus.

More of the same – yet so beautiful and unique.

We are allowed to walk a hundred yards or so, into one specific restricted area.

More of the beauty all around.

Every lava bridge / arch is so unique.

This adorable “Blue Foot Boobie” poses for us at the end of our trail.

A closeup of his blue feet. There are three types of Boobies in the Galapagos Islands. The Blue-Foot, the Nazca, and the Red-Foot. I saw both of the first two … but never did see the red-foot variety.

If I had wanted to pay for an expensive tour on my final Island, I could probably have seen the red-foot ones, but my heart guided me in different directions.

And another perfect pose. Click to enlarge for the beautiful details.

The Volcanoes – Sierra Negra and Chico

On Monday, June 1, 2015, I began the day at 7:00 a.m. with a tour to some volcanoes at the south end of Isabela Island.

Isabela is the newest of the Galapagos Islands, and has actual active volcanoes, mainly at the north end of the island. But even the volcanoes on the south end (where I am going) have been active as recently as ten years ago.

On the north end, a volcano erupted just a few days before I arrived in the Islands.

If you are familiar with the Hawaiian Islands, Isabela might be compared to the Big Island of Hawaii – because it is the most recently formed island with still-active volcanoes. The further east you go, the older the islands are, with richer vegetation (because of more time for erosion, creating soil and plant growth). The final island I visit (San Cristobal) is the oldest, on the eastern end of the group of Galapagos islands.

We began the tour on an open-air bus – another flatbed truck with benches and a roof on top. I am very happy, with a big grin.

Looking back toward Puerto Villamil as we begin our journey toward the highlands of the Island.

There is a great deal of lava down here at sea level as well.

A view of a few other passengers. I had a lot of fun talking to this family – parents and two older children. I think they were from Canada.

A not-so-great photo of me in front of the sign that reads “Volcan Sierra Negra”. It says the trail is eight kilometers in length (sixteen round trip) – or about ten miles round trip.

I cannot see it on the sign, but our guide told us that the volcano here is at about 3000 feet above sea level.

It was quite wet up here – a constant drizzle that they call “garua” (gah – ROOO – uh). I am not carrying any rain-resistant clothes, but I did have an umbrella to try to keep my day pack dry.

I was really unprepared for the muddy trail of the first few miles.

We took off hiking into a fog, and could not see hardly anything for the entire first hour. We walked right by the huge crater of Volcan Sierra Negra, and did NOT see it at all.

I was so busy trying to keep my cloth tennis/hiking shoes from getting overly muddy that I did not use my camera much in that first hour. I ended up having to step in six-inch deep puddles anyway …

Finally, we passed the crater (never saw it) and reached trails that were more level and covered with small volcanic rock (not mud). Our guide told us that within a half hour we would have a lot more visibility.

By now I was wondering if our entire ten mile hike would simply be a hike in muddy fog. (I found out later that the hike on the previous day had been just that – fog and rain all day.)

But gradually the fog began to thin. Regardless, it was a fun adventure.

Up here at the top, the vegetation was gorgeous.

The lava rock made it even more magical.

An there was indeed a LOT of lava rock here.

Gradually, we began to be able to see much further into the distance … and the vegetation began to constantly shift as we walked slightly downhill.

Some of the mountains that gradually began to appear.

And finally, we can even see water below in the bay (the lighter colored area across the middle part of the photo). We are coming to the north side of the lower part of Isabela Island.

A little lava tunnel that we pass. Our guide has us put our hand into a different one to show us that there was hot air venting out of it … this area is still active.

The vegetation increasingly disappears, giving way to lava. There is almost nothing living here. I think I saw one or two lizards, but absolutely no birds, iguanas, or larger animals.

Looking off in the distance at interesting terrain.

I think the steam in this photo is just fog on my lens.

Looking off in the distance toward recent lava flows – about ten years old.

A really interesting lava tunnel that we walk over.

And another just a little off the trail.

The textures are getting very interesting all around me.

It feels like we are walking on Mars.

Occasionally there are still a few things growing, like these “Candelabro” cactus.

Finally, we reach the boundary between old lava flows and new ones (about ten years old). Our guide has us pick up the two colors of lava found here – one reddish and one black. The reddish one has an iron content, and is old enough that it has started to rust. The black is similar, but too new to have rusted yet.

If you look closely you can see the boundary between the reddish lava and the black lava. The reddish is on the near side, and the black in the distance.

I think the black flowed down in 2005.

 

Now stepping into the black area. As you can see, there is absolutely nothing growing here. It is too new, and there has not been time for any erosion to create soil that can support life.

More beautiful, very black lava with fascinating textures and patterns. You really ought to click to enlarge these photos if you want to see detail.

We are approaching the “Volcan Chico” (Small Volcano) area – a small volcano that erupted more recently.

Fascinating terrain – literally like a different planet.

This woman from chili was part of our group. She was a professional photographer that had all the best equipment, and kept hanging behind in her attempt to find the best photos.

Looking over the black lava at distant ridges.

This formation catches my fancy. I didn’t know it was right by Volcan Chico.

More of the mountain in the distance, with some foreground of fresh, black lava.

Approaching the colorful crater of “Volcan Chico”.

Looking over the rim, down inside.

Zooming in on the bottom.

Looking directly across the crater at the other side, a couple hundred feet away.

I followed this little trail part way around the upper rim.

Another view of the trail around the rim.

Looking down inside the crater from part of the way around the rim.

This lava texture and color is so fascinating.

Perhaps two hundred feet away, we sit on the top of a very windy view area – looking out over the ocean far below.

Using full zoom, this is a photo of a huge lava tunnel down below. The hottest part of the lava flow continues to move forward while the outer edges begin to cool down. When the hot part moves on, the tunnel is left behind.

Me, on top the windy hill, giggling with delight.

Another look down toward the crater of Volcan Chico.

Actually, I am not sure. This could be a different hole in the ground, nearby – it does not look exactly like Volcan Chico from this angle.

More of the surrounding area.

We are now walking back … we have a tight schedule to keep. I need to be back at 2:30 p.m. so I can catch a boat back to Santa Cruz.

This gorgeous cactus caught my eye as we passed it. It was wet with dew from the rain, and the sun made it sparkle. The patterns were beautiful.

Same cactus, different view.

After reaching a picnic area near the rim of Volcan Sierra Negra, we stop to eat our sack lunch.

This beautiful little yellow finch was entertaining us while begging for food. We were all respectful, obeying the rules, not giving him any human tidbits.

A sign in front of the picnic area. It reads “Picnic Area – the Little Soap”. Our guide told us that part of this tree was once used in the production of soap.

As we soon walked back to the rim of Volcan Sierra Negra, we are delighted to see that much of the fog has cleared, and we can see down inside.

Wikipedia says that this volcano rises to 3684 feet (1123 meters) – and calls it a “shield volcano” (mostly built by lava flows). It most recently erupted in 2005.

This incredibly large caldera below is 7.2 kilometers by 9.3 kilometers (4.5 miles by 5.7 miles) in size. The rim completely surrounds the huge caldera below – a caldera that from this viewpoint looks mostly flat.

With less zoom, looking from the rim down into this enormous caldera.

This photo gives a better perspective. The rim runs all the way around this huge caldera, like a sharp pointed ridge. In many places the walls of the caldera look very steep.

We take considerable time observing from the previous spot, but it was still quite foggy, and we were on a schedule, so we began to again walk along our side of the volcano rim.

As the fog cleared a little more we stopped for another brief view down into the caldera.

This is one of my best photos. It shows the mountains surrounding this side of the caldera. The bottom is a very flat area, covered in a huge rubble of extremely random textures of lava rock.

And these last few photos are even more clear and picturesque.

Looking left toward the bottom. Remember, the bottom is 4.5 by 5.7 miles across.

Not a very good photo of me (my clothes are droopy and sweaty) … but I have a big grin and am loving the hike.

This photo is even more clear in showing the bottom (click to enlarge).

Three of my new friends on the tour.

On the way back, I took a few photos of the muddy parts of the trail. They were much worse than this on our way up. There were pools of water here that were several inches deep, with almost no way around them.

This area had been especially treacherous on the way up. It was through here that I finally gave up on trying to keep my shoes dry and clean.

It was so fun to actually be able to see the trail as we walked back to the parking lot where we would find our return transportation.

Summary

It was a magical three days on Isla Isabela. I really would have liked to spend more time here, but I already had tickets for a return boat at 2:50 p.m..

The driver got me back to my hotel by 2:30 p.m. as I was hoping, but once I got my bags gathered up, I was unable to get a taxi. There was another woman at my hotel also trying to get to the boat dock. She had the hotel staff call for a taxi, but they were delayed by other passengers also rushing to the dock.

Finally, I grabbed my luggage and began to walk very fast with it. The dock was about 20 minutes away (on foot) …  and I was dragging a heavy suitcase.

I told the woman that was still waiting for a taxi to please stop and pick me up if the taxi did come.

Ten minutes later, when I was about half way to the boat dock, the taxi flashed his lights and stopped to get me. I was very grateful because I was extremely exhausted and sweaty. We were in the hottest part of the day and the humidity was high.

I did  not realize it until later, but the equator actually passes through the upper part of Isabela Island.

I made it back to my boat with minutes to spare, and two hours later I was back on Santa Cruz Island, checking into a hostel, settling in for the next phase of my journey (which I documented in Part One).

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

 

On Wednesday morning, May 27, 2015, I left Máncora, Peru, heading north, first on a small public collective minivan and then on a “CIFA International” full size bus. Our first stop on the bus was at the border between Peru and Ecuador. Our final destination was the city of Guayaquil, the second largest city in Ecuador. My intention for Guayaquil was just to get in and out as quickly as possible. The first 15 photos in this post document that short journey.

Early on Thursday morning, May 28, 2015, I headed to the Guayaquil airport, where I boarded a plane with a destination of the Baltra airport – a small airport on tiny Baltra Island right next to Santa Cruz Island. The flight took me more than 600 miles west, out into the huge Pacific Ocean.

This post contains 238 photos that document my journey to the Galapagos, plus all of my time on the islands of Santa Cruz and Floreana. Subsequent posts will cover my time on Isabela and San Cristobal islands.

As usual, the photos in this post are thumbnail images. Please click on any photo to enlarge it. The thumbnails leave much to be desired as far as colors and resolution – plus the thumbnails clip all of the edges. I use thumbnails for the post itself, because it gives people an opportunity to get a summary glimpse without downloading huge amounts of data for the high-res photos.

CLICK ON ANY PHOTO TO ENLARGE TO HIGH RESOLUTION

For the first two hours of my journey, I rode in a collective minivan through the furthest north regions of Peru (along the Pacific coast, that is). Our destination was the border town of Tumbes.

This is a sampling of the scenery along the way .

In Tumbes, the driver dropped me off at the CIFA International bus station where I caught a 10:00 a.m. bus headed north into Ecuador. The border crossing went very smoothly, with both the Peru and Ecuador customs agents being in the same room in brand new facilities.

During that first phase of the bus ride, we only had about six passengers on board. I took this photo looking out the window during our first stop on the Ecuador side – at a small town called Huayquillas.

During this stop, the entire bus filled up with passengers headed to our destination of Guayaquil.

A beautiful tree along the highway. The Ecuador coast was beautiful and lush with green growth. Somewhere between Peru and Ecuador the climate completely shifted.

Me, playing around on the bus. I was in the front row, on the left window, looking directly at the back of the driver’s window (separating him from the passengers). The driver had the curtain pulled, causing the window to act like a partially transparent mirror.

That is my reflection on the left.

It was really strange seeing myself and the passengers behind me — yet if I focused just right I could also see the driver and the road in front of me — a fun brain adventure.

More fun playing with the reflection – showing my huge grin.

The highway here in this part of Ecuador was a four-lane divided highway, very well maintained. I haven’t seen nice roads like this for a very long time.

For the entire four-hour journey to Guayaquil, we repeatedly passed by huge fields growing bananas. If you look closely (or click to enlarge) you can see those blueish bags hanging in the tree. Every large clump of bananas is covered by these bags, keeping them safe from bugs and birds.

More banana plantations with gorgeous Andes mountains in the background. In this area, the mountains are not very far away from the Pacific coast.

I was quite delighted to look out the window and suddenly realize that we were passing by huge plantations of cacao trees. For those who know me, cacao is a very important part of my life, ever since I studied with Keith, the cacao (chocolate) shaman, in Guatemala. I continue to eat a little bit of pure cacao, almost every day.

More cacao trees. It is difficult to see in these hastily snapped photos – poorly focused while zooming down the road, looking through dirty windows – but the cacao fruit (pod) actually hangs off of the trunk and thicker branches of the tree. These trees appear to have many such pods.

In between the frequent banana and cacao plantations, there were occasional fields like this – huge, gorgeous, grassy areas, with scattered trees here and there.

An attempt to get a closeup of a cacao tree – poorly focused. You can barely see a brown pod in the lower center of the photo, about 1/3 of the way up.

And then we passed the occasional HUGE sugar cane plantations.

Looking a cacao trees in the foreground and the Andes mountains in the background.

As we passed through a small town, I giggled when I saw this sign that reads, “We buy cacao”.

At around 2:30 or 3:00 p.m., we pulled into a huge and modern bus station (terminal terrestre) in Guayaquil. After gathering my luggage, I found a taxi to take me to a budget hotel in the older part of town (close to the famous Malecon of Guayaquil). I had researched the names of several economical hostels, but had not made any reservations. I randomly choose a name and asked the driver to take me there.

By 4:00 p.m., I was checked in at the Hostal California. It was kind of a dive, but served my purposes – a bed, internet, and air conditioning. It is extremely hot and humid there.

I quickly went out on a quest, and just before 5:00 p.m., I purchased airline tickets at a small travel agency. The next morning, May 28, 2015, I would be flying to the Galapagos Islands. I had done no advance research of any kind, and just randomly decided to buy tickets for a ten-day stay on the islands.

Looking out the window of my plane, on May 28, 2015, as we fly west, over the vast Pacific Ocean. Our destination of Baltra Airport is more than 600 miles to the west.

We did an interesting loop. In this photo, we are flying over the Baltra area, but we are still quite high. We end up banking to the right and doing a huge loop over the ocean before returning to land.

As we took that loop, I was fascinated by these two smaller islands – large rocks sticking up out of the ocean.

At the time, I had no idea that I would be scuba diving right up next to one of them, on the very next day (Daphne Island).

Coming in lower, preparing to land.

Like many small airports in this part of the world, we got off of the plane by descending down a moveable staircase.

This is my plane from “Tame” airlines. Flying here is not cheap, but this was the least expensive option. Only two other airlines come here – LAN and Avianca.

After being herded into a very crowded airport bus, we were taken on a ten minute ride to a nearby boat dock. From there, we took turns climbing into small boats that would take us on another ten minute ride across a small channel to the Island of Santa Cruz.

This is my boat. My luggage is somewhere up there in front.

Approaching the dock on the Santa Cruz Island side.  The shuttle from the airport was free, and this boat ride cost us $1.00.

Five minutes later, I stashed my lugged below and climbed up into this old bus. Our destination (the town of Puerto Ayora) is nearly an hour away, on the other side of Santa Cruz Island.

After waiting in this hot bus for nearly a half hour, I was anxious to get on our way. I took the bus because it was just $2.00. A taxi would have cost about $18.00.

Me, having more fun playing with my camera and the rear-view mirror of the bus.

Watching another boat piled with luggage and passengers as it arrives to unload. When the people from this boat climbed aboard the bus, we finally had enough passengers to begin our journey.

One of the first things I noticed was how green the region was – yet almost all of the area on both sides of the road was filled with dark reddish-brown lava rock.

The road alternated from really nice (previous photo) to very rough). In this photo we are entering a rough stage.

Some of that lava rock, with so much greenery growing out of it.

As we crested a small hill, I was surprised to see large hills in the distance … hills covered in clouds. I soon learned that these islands have many different climates. The hills in Santa Cruz are just under 3000 feet ( about 900 meters) – but are usually cloudy and quite wet.

Some of the gorgeous trees as we passed over the hills – doing so in a small rainstorm.

It is quite magical up here.

As we approach Puerto Ayora, I see signs of civilization. The Galapagos islands have a population of just over 25,000 inhabitants. The island of Santa Cruz is home to about 12,000 of those people, with most of those living in the area of Puerto Ayora and a couple of surrounding villages.

Scenery as we approach Puerto Ayora.

Puerto Ayora is now coming into view in the distance. You can see the ocean right behind it.

A typical street in Puerto Ayora.

Scuba Diving at Daphne and Seymore

After checking in at the “Hospedaje Brattle” (just one I found – having had no reservations), I began to explore the area. One of the first things I did (after going to an ATM) was to reserve a scuba diving trip for the very next morning (May 29, 2015).

I spent the remainder of the day getting fed at a restaurant, trying on my scuba gear, and people-watching near the main boat dock.

Early on Friday, May 29, 2015, I met up with my group at the dive shop. Soon we were put in taxis that took us all the way across the island, back to the side near the airport.

This photo was taken while waiting for the rest of our group to arrive The water here is gorgeous, and the little bay is enclosed with Mangrove trees and lots of wildlife.

Looking down at our dive boat. It is quite small, especially considering that there were about nine divers plus two dive-masters, plus about three crew members.

The back is filled with tanks and scuba gear.

Closeup of the mangroves and large birds.

Closeup of some of our scuba gear.

Finally, after standing around for what felt like a half-hour or more, we climb down into the boat.

About forty-five minutes later, as we approached “Daphne” (large rock in background), our crew spotted a huge group of dolphins off in the distance. Hundreds of them were jumping, splashing, and swimming. We took off to rendezvous with them.

We giggled with our dive masters told us to get our snorkel gear on and to jump in. This is one of my boat-mates – a very fun woman from Canada, now living in Britain.

All of these next photos were taken by my dive master, who then shared them with us after the trip.

Looking at a couple of dolphins playing below us in the water, directly in front of the boat.

And three more of them…

Some of the dolphins as we snorkeled around.

The dive master took some great photos. I was struggling to keep up with the dolphins. They didn’t come closer than about ten or fifteen feet. I had to keep swimming toward them to see them, and they kept disappearing … but I did briefly see many of them in ways similar to these photos.

Another beautiful photo of the dolphins.

At one point I looked about twenty feet below me and saw this huge shark. It is a black tip. At the time, our dive master had not told us that the sharks here are not menacing to humans. I began to watch with great care, swimming closer to the boat while not letting myself feel any fear. I took note that there were a lot of us in the water, and the crew did not seem the least bit nervous.

Another view of the shark.

In this photo of the shark, I giggled when I realized that is “ME” directly above it, LOL.

Actually, as I look closely, that looks like one of the dolphins — but I was swimming that close to the shark too.

Back on the boat again as we move closer to Daphne Island. We will be diving on the left side.

We dove in two separate groups. That is my dive master in the middle. I am on the right, closest to the camera. You will need to click to enlarge in order to see me because the thumbnail image cut me off.

This is me, all decked out in my gear, ready to jump in. Actually, we sat on the edge of the boat and then fell off backwards, tank first.

The second group was a group of students being taught by another dive master.

Me, down at the bottom, posing with a large starfish.

More similar starfish

Another beautiful one.

We spent considerable time playing with a huge school of fish. The dive master told us their name, but I simply do not remember. They were about nine inches in length, silver with black stripes.

One of my dive mates, playing around the school of fish.

I think I might be one of these … but I am not sure.

This is definitely me, floating just below the huge school of dancing fish.

I think that is me in the upper right, but I am not sure. We are surrounded by a tunnel of fish.

A view of the tunnel of fish.

A few sea lions came out to play. They were a lot more fun to watch down in the water.

I cannot remember for sure, but I think this man (bottom left) was my dive buddy. It would have been more fun if that sea lion were my buddy. They didn’t stay around for very long.

The dive master took some beautiful photos with his flash.

The flash really brings out the colors.

Looks like a huge clam, with shell partly open.

And an abundance of colorful fish.

This little fish says hello.

And a starfish playing around as a contortionist.

This Moray Eel was fascinating.

Lots of fun stuff down here. I believe we went down to around 60 feet during much of the dive.

One more colorful fish before we run out of air and begin to surface.

I was the first to go low on air, and the dive master solved the problem by giving me his emergency hose and then grabbing me … pulling me around while he allowed the others to have more bottom time (including me sharing his air supply).

Finally, we surface (after our three minutes at 15 feet). Yes, that is me in the left center.

Back on the boat (after a yummy lunch), preparing for our second dive. In just minutes I will be falling over backwards, splashing down to the depths – this time at “North Seymore”.

Another of me preparing to fall backwards, back into the beautiful depths with a new tank of compressed air.

Beautiful fish.

And a cluster of small Galapagos sharks.

Yes, that is me, posing with the shark. You will need to click to enlarge the photo if you want to see my face.

A closeup of my new friend.

And another view of the shark.

This Moray Eel was primed in a beautiful pose.

Me, getting up close (while carefully staying behind the rock) as the dive master takes a photo of me with the eel (bottom left) … click to enlarge for a much better view.

I am not quite sure what this is, but he definitely says “hi”.

I only briefly saw one of these “Rays”.

Another view of the Ray.

More fish.

Me, waiting for three minutes at 15 feet down – near the end of our adventure.

As before, I ran low on air, and rather than ending the dive, the dive master shared with me for a while … until he ended the dive and put me back on my own air for the final ascent.

Back on shore, preparing to return to the other side of the island. This is my friend from Canada (who lives in Great Britain).

One of the crew, unloading the now-empty air tanks.

We had to wait for a long time for our taxis to arrive … and there were little bugs biting. I hung out on the road with a large scarf covering my bare legs.

About an hour later, we arrived back in Puerto Ayora.

With still an hour of daylight left, I took a walk out to the side of town, following a trail to a part of the National Park that one can visit without a guide.

It was already 5:30 p.m. when I got here, so I just quickly scampered around to check the place out.

I started walking down this trail, but it was late and I was not sure where I was going, so I turned around. I guess there is a “turtle raising” place down here somewhere.

This sign talks about the turtles. I later visit many turtles on three of the islands.

There is also a “Charles Darwin Scientific Station” down here, but I was after hours and everything seemed closed, so I just glanced around outside – briefly.

I liked this cactus. I later learn it is an “Opuntia”.

A little waiting area in the Darwin Center. That is a statue there.

A map of Puerto Ayora. Right now, I am at the “right center” of the map.

Isla Isabela

From May 30 to June 1, 2015, I spent three days and two nights on Isla Isabela, having a very fun time. For convenience purposes, I have decided to save photos from that trip, and will fill up a “Part Two” post with those photos.

Instead, I will continue this post with the rest of my photos from Isla Santa Cruz – photos taken from June 2 – 5, after returning from Isla Isabela.

Santa Cruz Highlands Tour

After returning from Isla Isabela, late in the evening on Monday, June 1, 2015, I quickly made plans to resume exploring Santa Cruz.

On Tuesday, June 2, I took a “Highlands Tour” into the middle, higher-altitude portions of Santa Cruz.

A lizard in Puerto Ayora, as I waited for my afternoon tour to begin.

Our first stop on this transport-only tour was at the top of the island, at a place called “Los Gemelos” (The Twins).

These are two huge sinkholes (formed by the collapse of a huge magma chamber), filled with lush vegetation – with one of them on either side of the road. Our taxi driver was not allowed to take us in there, because he is not an official guide.

This photo is looking into one of the huge, gorgeous, sinkholes.

Another view, looking at the other side of the huge crater-like area.

Me, in front of the first “twin” sinkhole.

Another view from this spot.

A young Chinese woman was on the tour with me, and the two of us spent about five minutes walking along a trail that went to the right, along the rim of the canyon.

Then we crossed the highway and went to the second of “Los Gemelos”. It looked even bigger.

Another view in the second sinkhole.

And another.

I was fascinated by the moss in the trees. The climate here is so different from that down by the ocean shore.

Looking through the moss, down into the sinkhole.

One final view into the sinkhole before returning to our taxi.

Soon, we found ourselves driving down a dirt road toward a private ranch called “El Chato”. It is situated right on the border of the National Park, and is a place where many land tortoises come to feed and nest.

The red sign reads “Stop, turtle crossing”

Entering the parking area of “El Chato 2 Ranch” – a private ecological reserve.

This time, since we are in a private area, the taxi driver is able to play “guide” for us. He quickly gets us some rubber boots and leads us out on the trails in search of wild turtles.

This is the first one we see. There are only a small number here at this time of year. Most of the turtles are further into the park right now, but will return in huge numbers later this fall.

My young Chinese friend, getting a photo.

And the guide offers to use my camera to take photos of me.

I soon learn that every island in the Galapagos has their own unique variety of land turtles … except for Floreana Island. Their turtles are extinct because of poaching by pirates and early explorers – and that island is importing turtles from other islands.

If we make noise, the turtles hiss and pull into their shell. We try to be very quiet and not scare them.

Another view of this one.

Me with this turtle. We saw six or seven turtles on this hike.

Having fun. We are supposed to stay a coupe of yards away from them, and never touch them.

Another one, with his neck extended and fully relaxed. If you click to enlarge, you can see that he is eating something yellow.

Yum yum … chomping away.

He is enjoying his snack.

Off in search of another turtle.

Soon, we leave the turtles behind and take a stroll through a huge lava tunnel. This one is about 100 yards long.

This is the entrance, with a large set of steps leading down inside.

I am glad when I learn that there are lights down here, as I did not bring a flashlight. It is also quite muddy, and I am glad that “El Chato” provides the boots I am wearing.

Walking through the long natural lava tunnel.

The exit is in sight.

This part of the tunnel is quite large and tall.

Getting closer to the exit.

Climbing out the other end.

We soon come to a second lava tunnel, but our guide tells me not to go inside, informing me that there are no lights in this one.

Looking at the entrance to the second tunnel.

Having fun at the end of the tour … climbing into a real turtle shell.

Giggles.

Doing a pushup.

My young friend giggling in the shell.

Bay Tour

Early on June 3, 2015, after a night of intense rain, I hesitatingly (because of previous rain) take a tour out onto the bay in front of Puerto Ayora.

We spend much of the time on a boat.

Our first stop is near some beautiful rocks, where we observe “Blue Footed Boobies”, “Marine Iguanas” … and lots of other beautiful scenery.

Luckily, the rains held off and the weather was fairly nice.

Another view along this gorgeous shoreline.

A “Blue-footed Boobie” … click to enlarge if you want to see the color on the feet.

Soon, we pulled up to a boat dock, disembarking and hiking to “Las Grietas” (The Grotto).

A cute crab that stopped to greet us before running to hide.

The sign near the entrance.

Gorgeous “Opuntia” cactus trees.

Still walking the very wet trail (night rains) toward the Grotto.

Finally, a sign announces our arrival.

Looking down from the top of the wooden (slippery) steps that descend down to that blue water below.

Getting closer. This is a pool of mixed water, fed both by ocean currents and fresh springs.

Down near water’s edge. This is a gorgeous site, nestled down in a small slot canyon.

I was the first one in the water. I swam (with snorkel and mask) to the far end, and then back again. After a while, I got out to be the first to dry off, allowing me to take these photos of other snorkeling.

A view from the rock where I left my bag.

Me, taking a selfie, still in my bikini and very wet.

I wasn’t sure if I wanted to post one of me in my bikini, but decided to do so. The tour guide saw me taking a photo of myself and asked for the camera so he could take photos of me.

Soon, we hiked back to the boat and crossed the bay where we got off to explore another trail. The first place we went was a place to see sharks in a narrow channel (White Tipped Reef Sharks) … but the water was so churned up by the rains that we could see nothing.

The guide told us we could hike to a nearby beach (in deep mud to get there) … or we could extend our snorkeling time. I didn’t care, but the group choose to snorkel for longer.

Soon, we were back on the boat, jumping into the ocean with no fins, in water that was rough and cloudy.

I snorkeled and enjoyed the swim, but did  not see much of anything. I was one of the first back in the boat after a long swim around a point … and a few people saw a sea turtle after I got out. I have seen so many turtles that I opted to not jump back in.

After the snorkeling, the tour ended and we returned to Puerto Ayora.

Tortuga Bay

After the Bay Tour, at just after 4:00 p.m., I decided to use my last hours of sunlight to explore a trail leading through National Park lands, headed to a place called Tortuga Bay. I was delighted by what I found – so delighted that I just knew I would be back to do a ceremony in this area.

The beginning of the trail, leaving the parking lot (about 15 minutes from town on foot) and leading up to the entrance station.

The sign at the start of the trail.

Hiking up a steep trail to the guard station (on top of a small cliff).

Looking back toward Puerto Ayora from the guard station.

At this station, I had to sign my name in a book, committing to leave the beach to begin returning at 5:00 p.m…..

A map of the area. I followed the trail from the top-right of the sign, down to that white beach area down by the ocean.

From the first moment I stepped onto this trail, I felt the incredible peaceful energy. Both sides were absolute wilderness, pure, untouched Galapagos National Park.

The trail was quiet except for the occasional person that I encountered.

I loved it here.

Looking up one side of a hill as seen from the trail.

A sign describing the “Galapagos Opuntia” cactus trees, explaining some details about them, and how they are food for iguanas and tortoises, as well as a source of food for the Cactus Finches.

These majestic trees seem to me like tall pine trees with prickly-pear cactus as their leaves.

Quite the interesting combination of natural evolution.

I noticed on a different island that these cactus only seem to be prevalent in the lower elevations, less than a few hundred feet in altitude.

More of the magical trail with an Opuntia Cactus on the left side.

Continuing down the trail. After walking for about forty minutes, I can hear the ocean waves crashing down ahead.

A cute bird stopped to say hello.

And this little lizard wanted in on the friendly action.

I love their reddish-orange throats.

A sign warning about the poisonous “Manzanillo” apples – (and the sap from the tree is also poisonous). The turtles can eat them, but they will kill humans and most animals.

Finally, arriving at this incredible and beautiful beach. It has white sands, very find sand, with turquoise waters. The descent into the water is gradual and you can get quite far out before you are over your head.

The only danger here is that there are said to be strong ocean currents.

Today, I did not come prepared to swim.

Looking off into the distance on the right side.

Other than that clump of rocks in the foreground, the beach goes on for several hundred yards.

People are not allowed to go onto the higher shore, above the sand area.

Looking to the left side.

Clear water splashing onto these rocks.

Some surf action in the distance. This is a popular place to surf.

My footprints :)

Because it was already late in the day, I only had about fifteen minutes before it was time to leave.

On my way back, I spied this black cat, hiding in the wild beside the trail. I can only imagine that this must be a magical playground for a wild cat.

Part of the trunk of an Opuntia cactus tree. It seems that the trunk starts off covered in long needles, and eventually, as it grows, the spines fall off and the trunk looks like a pine tree.

One of the cactus leaves of the Opuntia, with some type of pod growing out of it. I can only presume that it might be the start of a flower blossom.

After signing out at the guard station, I took this photo of the cliff just below. There is a fissure here that is more than a hundred feet taller on the left, where the National Park trail begins.

Fifteen minutes later, I am back in Puerto Ayora, loving the view of the main “muelle” or dock with its night lights already turned on. It will be dark soon.

Another view looking out over the bay.

As I head back to my hostal, there is a volleyball game going on. These games seem to take place almost every evening – and the players are all local.

I giggled as I watch them play, because it is obvious that they have been taught to play in a way that is very different than the rules where I come from.

Almost every time they hit the ball it is a flagrant “carry”. They literally catch  the ball with their fingertips, and then shove it back into the air.

Since they all do it that way, it seems to me as if they were literally trained to do it this way – an example of how there is no “right” way to to do it.

Finally, as darkness sets in, I head back toward my hostal. On the way, I pass by my dive shop – the one I used to go scuba diving earlier in the week.

Isla Floreana Day Trip

On June 4, 2015, I get up early and spend the day traveling to and from the island of Floreana, as part of a day-trip tour group.

The next 32 photos document this trip.

About 20 of us met at 8:00 a.m., where we took a speedboat from Santa Cruz to Floreana, a journey of nearly two hours over rough ocean waters.

As we arrived on the dock at Floreana, we were greeted by sea lions and marine iguanas.

This iguana seemed quite relaxed in the hot sun.

A map of Floreana. Our tour starts halfway up the left side of the island, and heads toward the middle of the island.

Walking from the dock up toward the restrooms and our bus.

Our “bus” is an old flatbed truck, converted into a transport with the addition of wooden benches and a roof.

The woman in this photo is from Austin Texas. She has a PHD in psychology, and we had some fun conversations.

Driving toward the middle of the island.

Getting into the higher elevations (less than 3000 feet).

Another view of the typical scenery on this island.

A sign announcing our arrival at the “High Part” of the island that we can visit.

Looking out at more beautiful scenery.

This island is among the older islands in the Galapagos … and one of the first to be settled.

Soon, we were off on a hike to see more turtles. There are no native turtles remaining on Isla Floreana. They were all killed off by early pirates, and other ships. The turtles were used for food on the ships. The turtles can survive for long periods of time without eating … so they were taken aboard and only killed when the ship needed more food.

This happened on other islands too, but the species there were not totally killed off. Here on Floreana, the original turtles are extinct, and they are bringing in turtles from other islands to try to replace them.

The first turtle we see. He is covered in mud. Our guide says the turtles cover themselves in the mud to help keep the mosquitoes off.

Another view of the same turtle.

A concrete slab where the turtles are fed. I’m not sure I believe it, but our guide says that no one is allowed to walk up there because the mud on their shoes can carry bacteria that will kill the turtles.

It seems odd to me that if my shoes are muddy from the same mud in which the turtles crawl around, that that mud shouldn’t carry any bacteria that would hurt them …

I ended up having to translate for the English speakers on the tour, because our guide did not speak much English at all.

The tour here is more historical than any other that I took. This is a sign that marks the entrance to a spring – the only fresh-water source on the island. It consists of water dripping in a cave-like area, and it drips very slow.

The island of Floreana only has about 140 residents because of the lack of fresh water sources. Our guide told us that each family on the island only gets about 20 minutes of water every couple of days.

This is the spring itself. The water barely drips back there, and is collected into the small reservoir below, then draining into those pipes.

Continuing our hike through the beautiful area.

We soon walk through this small canyon area. Our guide makes me translate long stories about the original two German families that settled here … telling us all about the conflict that they had with each other. This place we are exploring is where these families lived.

This face was not carved by ancient indigenous people. Apparently, one of the families carved it to teach their children about culture.

Looking down toward the ocean far below.

An old cave that is said to be the earliest “hotel” on the island. It is also said to have been a pirate cave.

Hiking on the muddy trail back toward our bus.

It is quite beautiful here.

Another trail on our path.

I am not sure what “Asilo” is … the rest of the sign reads “… of the peace”

We ate a yummy lunch here.

… and then walked a few hundred yards down to the “Black Rock Beach” … where many of us snorkeled.

There are even a few small hotels here.

The sand is black, and is very coarse … hurting my feet when I walked on it.

I snorkeled for about forty minutes. I first went to the area where our guide told us was best. It was cloudy and there was absolutely nothing to see. Following a hunch, I swam a hundred yards to the other side of the bay and found an area with a rocky bottom, where I could see several sea turtles. I have a lot of fun snorkeling above and around them.

Looking from our boat, back toward Black Rock Beach as we begin to return to Isla Santa Cruz.

Inside of our boat. I really did not like this boat … it was a real sweat house. The windows in back did not open, and they closed the front because of splashes … very hot ride. Sitting in the back was the least bumpy on the large ocean swells.

Almost all of my boat rides in the Galapagos involved water taxis. The larger boats were not allowed to pull up to the main docks. Instead, we traveled to and from the boat on water taxis like this one.

I was on the first water taxi bringing passengers to our boat. This is the second taxi arriving with the rest of our tour group.

Leaving Isla Floreana in our wake.

Another view looking back at Floreana.

Tortuga Bay Ceremony

On June 5, 2015, I took a day off from tours and decided to follow my inner guidance telling me to do a medicine ceremony here in the Galapagos. I spent the first several hours of the ceremony doing deep meditation in my room … but as the weather warmed up, I spent the remainder of my time exploring the trail to and from Tortuga Bay – the same place I had scouted out a few days earlier.

I found myself being especially connected to the magical nature all around me.

Many lizards came to hang out nearby. They were especially beautiful today.

At one point, as I sat on the trail’s short wall, I moved my legs and felt something sting me. A wasp had been resting on my right ankle and I had pushed it with my left ankle, causing it to sting me. For a few moments, the wasp curled up on the ground below, but then disappeared when I was not watching.

The sting hurt, and was bloody-red right at the point where the skin was broken, and got puffy for a half inch around … but was mostly insignificant.

Rather than feel victimized, I giggled and saw it as an unknown part of my process today.

You can see the red dot on the front of my ankle.

Another cute lizard sharing energy with me.

Eventually, I walked down to the beautiful beach, and continued exploring further down in the distance to the right.

I absolutely love this beach.

At the far end of the beach, I observed this woman seeming to sit and meditate in the surf. She was there for a very long time. I could really identify with what she was doing. When she left, I took her spot for a while.

It was a spot right in front of this point, where the water was calm, and currents flowed from two sides.

There are lots of black marine iguanas down here.

And another one. This area is surrounded by mangroves too.

An “Iguana Pile” … I suppose it is similar to dog pile.

A sign talking about the marine iguanas. Click to enlarge if you are interested in reading more.

Looking out at the area where the woman was meditating in the water. This is where I went a little while later … out there in the calm area.

Just around the bend was another large bay, a much calmer one, surrounded by mangroves. This is an area where some people snorkel and kayak.

I started to swim here, but the water was to murky for me – colored a little from the mangrove roots.

Another view of this mangrove-surrounded bay.

After swimming for a while in the “other” spot where the woman had been meditating, I began a slow walk back toward town.

Along the way I stopped and sang songs. I was alive with joy. I giggled frequently as four or five little finches would fly in to be my audience. They literally seemed to gravitate to my singing.

I was tired and finally arrived back at my hotel to finish my ceremony.

A Children’s Parade

A while later, I heard what sounded like a parade outside. Feeling quite curious I put on my flip flops, grabbed my camera and purse, and went out for a look. It was indeed a parade, just a block away.

The first thing I saw was this group of children, with strings tied to their body, with the adults behind them pretending to guide them as if they were marionettes.

Soon, noticing how slowly the parade was moving, I hurried a block forward to see the very front. This is the back of the second entry in the parade. I am not sure what those words say on this homemade float.

I loved this float at the front – made in honor of the “Blue Footed Boobie” bird.

Children following the Blue Footed Boobie.

More of the children.

The front of the second entry in the parade.

And now back to the puppets, which were the third entry in the parade.

And the forth entry had a music theme.

Followed by children sporting a musical note theme.

The fifth and final entry … “The Rebirth of Art”

Young girls on the back of the float.

… and children dancing behind the float.

Summary

This concludes Part One of what will likely be three posts on my time in the Galapagos. I am going to try to finish another one later today – one covering my three days in the Isabela Island.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

It has been three and a half weeks since I crossed the border from Peru into Ecuador. This fact confuses me, because I literally feel as if I have been in Ecuador for a very long time.

I will not share the entire story here, because I will soon be posting extensive photos of my time thus far (in Ecuador), and those photos will tell the story of my adventures.

Suffice it to say that it has been a magical period of timelessness. After a day of travel, I spent the night in Guayaquil, Ecuador, where my main goal was to find a travel agency so that I could purchase airline tickets to fly to the Galapagos Islands as soon as I could.

The very next afternoon I found myself touching down on Baltra Island, over six hundred miles to the west, out in the vast Pacific Ocean. As I settled into a hostel on the island of Santa Cruz, I immediately began exploring my possibilities. Prior to that time, I had done no advance research or planning – none whatsoever.

And wow, what a magical exploration it was. I ended up spending five days on “Isla Santa Cruz”, three days on “Isla Isabela”, one day on “Isla Floreana” … and then after changing my return flight (adding six days to my stay in the Galapagos), I spent five days on “Isla San Cristobal”.

Early on June 12, 2015, I spent my final hours on San Cristobal, trusting the flow as I dealt with a regional-wide strike that attempted to freeze all activity on the Galapagos Islands. I will share details of the adventure in my photo post.

The next day, after spending another night in Guayaquil, I got up early, catching a four-hour bus to Cuenca – a beautiful little city at just over 8,000 feet (about 2,500 meters) above sea level, high up in the Ecuadorian Andes Mountains. As I type these words today, I am still in Cuenca, living here on a day-to-day basis, not quite sure yet just how long I will remain.

Letting Go Of Playing Small

As has been the case since early March, I continue to participate in a weekly writing project with three of my dear friends – a project where one of us asks a question each week, and we all answer it – a project that has been quite fun and inspiring for me.

And as I have done since March, I feel profoundly inspired to continue my tradition of sharing my own personal writing here on this blog. This whole project is inspiring me in ways that seem to fuel my passion to find a place to settle down and write my book.

A few weeks ago, one of my dear friends asked the question: “What one addiction or habit would you like to quit? … and why?

Following is my response, as emailed to my friends (I was quite delayed due to poor internet in the Galapagos):

I have been pondering this question for two weeks now, and it seems that my heart wants me to continue with a theme from my last writing – the one where I quoted Marianne Williamson’s famous quote about our deepest fear and “playing small”.

I am not sure if I would call it a habit or an addiction. I am not sure if it really qualifies for either. Even though I have successfully processed through uncountable layers of old emotional fears and social struggles, it is still quite easy for me to slip into an old behavioral groove – stepping into the background – into the shadows – “playing small”.

My heart has made it quite clear over the last few months that it is time to step forward into the next phase of my life.

On the one hand, I am doing just that, leaving my magical river playground in Peru and embracing the social world of people as I blindly follow guidance that nudges me northward. It is very easy to trust the subtle guidance, and I am having a lot of fun doing it. I have no doubt that sometime soon, the Universe will guide me to plant some roots in some yet-unknown way. Everything in my path seems to be so synchronous and magical when I do not try to interfere.

Yet on the other hand, when I ponder actually beginning my book, or working with people in a counseling/healing setting, I sense the presence of a small rebellion wanting to rise up in my belly, as if a hidden part of me continues to strongly doubt my capacity, demanding that I “play small” in order to avoid failure.

I have “played small” for as long as I can consciously remember. It is such an automatic thing for me to do – to try to avoid social settings – to resist expressing myself because I don’t want to deal with potential conflict – to be overly concerned about the opinions of others – to doubt my capacity to really spread my wings and fly.

As I write the above paragraph, all of those old fears seem so utterly silly and insignificant. I have faced them many times over, having repeatedly jumped right into the middle of the muck and coming out victorious on the other side.

It seems that I am using my own writing, in this moment, to bring clarity to the thoughts racing around in my head.

The “old me” “played small” because of deep self-loathing. I was terrified to be seen or heard by others because I believed they would judge me as much as I judged myself, blah, blah, blah.

The “new me” suddenly realizes that I am not now “playing small”, not at all. I am simply blindly following guidance – guidance that has not yet shown me the big picture – guidance that has clearly told me to just start moving north without really knowing where I will end up, or when I will get there.

That chattering little mental judge in my head wants me to believe that I SHOULD know what I am doing – and that I should be doing it NOW – telling me that I am “playing small” for not having already written my book, etc.

Wow, that little mental judge is quite the powerful liar!

Intuitive flashbacks suddenly remind me that we are often given glimpses of things we need to prepare for in the future – but that we won’t actually do them (and in reality cannot do them) until we arrive at that chapter in our story. In my case, I realize that I am very close to “that” chapter, but that I am not quite there yet.

So, it seems that I have gone full circle with this writing. It is obvious that old butterflies continue to swirl around here and there in my energy field, reminding me of past doubts regarding my inability to step into my power – to no longer “play small”. Yet, at the same time, new intuitive guidance reassures me that I am already very much shining my light and stepping into my power – and that my task is to simply have infinite patience, being present with the guidance I have right now, fully trusting that the future chapter will come with perfect timing.

Wow, thanks for the perfect question Jeanette. It seems that just writing about it has shown me that I AM breaking free of old habits of “playing small”, and that what remains is simply a little silly mental chatter that tries to hypnotize me into believing old lies.

Yes, I AM embracing my light now … I AM stepping into my power … and most of all I AM dropping ideas of exactly how that process should look.

Peaceful giggles remind me that the future will arrive with perfect timing. My only job is to be in my power right now while trusting the inspired guidance of this moment.

Four Descriptive Words

The next question – one asked by a different friend – caught me off guard at first. As part of asking, she explained how she had once been asked to select four words (and only four words) that would describe her life. She then challenged us to do the same.

It took me a while as I pondered and meditated, but finally, the perfect words came to me – words that profoundly describe my journey of six decades.

So without further delay, here is my response to the question: “What are the four words that describe your life?”

Embracing My Authentic Self

It blows me away how these words beautifully describe my journey since even the earliest of my memories, even during the times when I was lost and did not even slightly understand what I was doing (which was most of my life).

My whole life has been a journey to figure out and to embrace “me” … “the authentic me”.

At some point prior to age five or six, I literally buried all of my creative confidence. I was terrified to step out of the box in a way that might cause even one person to criticize or disapprove of my creative behavior. It didn’t matter if ninety-nine other people loved me.

Along with that creative confidence, I also buried much of my heart, and the “authentic me” that IS that heart went deep into hiding.

And of course, intertwined at the core of my heart shutdown was my gender struggle. The biggest symptoms were not obvious to me until at around age ten or eleven, but deep healing excavations have clearly revealed that I was hiding my gender issues and confusion at least by age six.

At age eleven, my “authentic self” had become my hated worst enemy. I believed she was evil, and got me into trouble. I fought back, desperately trying to wear the mask of a happy little religious boy and honor student.

At age twenty-one, after a very turbulent decade, my “authentic self” was so despised (by me), and so buried from view, that I thought I had killed her. Me getting married was supposed to be her final death sentence. She was ruining my conditioned life.

At age thirty-one, after a decade of both happiness and deep confusion – that horrible “authentic self” simply would not go away. I began to realize that maybe – just maybe – she was not evil at all. Agonizing and horrible decisions loomed over me. I desperately wanted to begin exploring my real self, but I now had a beautiful and precious family. I tried to run away, but simply could not follow through on that plan. I felt painfully trapped in a no-win situation.

At age forty-one, after a decade of self-discovery, I finally surrendered to the persistent call of my “authentic self”. She was so vocal that I could no longer keep her hidden or repressed. It was an incredibly difficult journey as divorce papers were signed. That, and telling my long-term employer about my coming transition were two of the most frightening things I have ever done. But I knew in my still-mostly-closed heart that this was something that I couldn’t “NOT” do. The thought of living the rest of my life pretending to be something else … someone else … let’s just say I couldn’t see myself living on this planet if that were to be the case.

By age fifty, I was two years into the beginning of a transformative spiritual journey, beginning to heal old wounds. My “authentic self” was sprouting new growth in ways that were not yet fully understood. That quiet hidden voice inside was so loud that I just had to keep moving forward with increasing courage and dedication.

I was fifty-four when that “authentic self” called out undeniably, begging me to pull up all roots that tied me down – imploring me to travel and write.

Now, at age sixty, just three days from completing six amazing years of travel, a quiet peaceful voice whispers loudly inside, telling me that my journey is finally about to begin – telling me that my “authentic self” is finally finishing up the process of breaking through the cocoon that has surrounded me – telling me that It is time to crawl out of that protective barrier and clean off my wings – telling me that it is time to learn how to fly.

It seems that “Embracing My Authentic Self” is a deep, unfolding process for me. Each time I finish up one phase of my journey, I intuitively understand that I am simply at a resting place, preparing for a magical new beginning that I could never have even imagined previously.

At one point in my life, my “authentic self” was all about physical body changes, along with the freedom to express and embrace life as Brenda.

Later, my “authentic self” became a quest to heal deeply buried core emotional wounds – wounds that sabotaged my behavior on a daily basis.

In this last year, my journey became a quest to learn a higher form of love – self-love – divine unconditional love. I never knew my heart could be so open … and I am quite aware that what I have done so far is just a beginning.

Every step of the journey has been guided from above. There is no longer any doubt about that. Every past struggle was necessary to set the stage for new growth and expansion.

As I now enjoy a few months of much deserved travel and exploration of the planet, I clearly realize that I am simply in another of those resting places … preparing for yet another unimaginable new beginning … and I am excited to find out what new wonder awaits with each new step.

This journey of “Embracing My Authentic Self” is finally starting to become a lot more fun.

A Tribute To Self

As I prepared to leave the Galapagos Islands, another friend gave us a question in the form of an assignment. She asked us to write a sort of tribute or memorial for each friend in our group – including one for our own self. We were asked to describe their past, present, or future, summarizing our feelings about them and their life.

The hardest part of the task was that we had to do it all in only six sentences.

When I first read the question, I recoiled in hesitating fear. The idea of writing about someone else and then sharing my feelings about them, with them … well that created a huge doubt in my capacity to do so.

The whole process forced me to face a fear that I was not even aware still existed.

When I finally forced myself to sit down to write (just a few days ago), I discovered that I had to get very creative with my sentence structure.

In the interest of privacy, I will not share what I wrote about my three friends, but I would love to share what I wrote about myself.

Please know that this is not about ego or pride. This is a genuine assessment of how I am learning to love myself – something that I consider to be one of the most important things that any of us can do.

Following is what I wrote as a tribute to my Self:

Brenda

Just as her personal mission statement expresses, Brenda is indeed “A beautiful and courageous divine daughter of God”, engaged in an adventurous ongoing quest to embody that magical identity – an identity that it turns out really has nothing at all to do with a physical body, whether male or female.

Beginning her life as a little boy, immersed in the mold of deep religious and cultural conditioning, Brenda quickly learned to hate herself, hiding in the background as she desperately struggled to fit into the fixed mold that was given to her – a process that caused her to feel so emotionally out of place that she developed intense social dysfunction – causing her to shut down her heart and do her best to simply survive in a world that seems to scorn heart-based intuition while honoring and rewarding mental intelligence and logic – a process in which she was quite successful, but increasingly unhappy and unfulfilled.

Brenda’s life journey has been one of courageously transforming her life, time and time again – with religious unraveling, gender transition, financial/career changes, and literally turning family relationships upside down, all while instinctively searching for some type of resolution to an inexplicable longing for something more – a longing to heal old wounds and to find a connection to something much larger than herself – a longing for something that she simply did not know how to find using her brilliant mind alone.

In 2009, Brenda began to defy that logical mind by engaging in an act of profound trust – by embarking on an unplanned journey of self-discovery that would be life-transforming – a journey of trying to “live and embody” a spiritual path rather than one of simply trying to mentally understand such a path – a journey of opening her heart in ways that the mind simply could not possibly fathom – a journey of six transformative years, diving headfirst into excruciating fears, deeply dysfunctional behavioral patterns, and agonizing repressed emotions – a journey of beginning to finally learn to truly love her true self.

Brenda is a magical and creative soul, finally freeing herself from the chains of a conditioned mental prison – finally embracing an expanding flow of creativity while learning to balance it with her gifted mind – finally preparing to step into the next phase of embodying the inspired writer that has been germinating inside of her for nearly a decade – finally feeling enough self-love to feel capable of stepping into her divine power and birthright.

Of all the magical people I love in this beautiful world, I am finally putting Brenda right up there at the top of my list – giving her the love that she has always deserved – reveling in the magic of her beautiful existence – honoring the perfection of her imperfect life in ways I never imagined possible – celebrating the love that is continually expanding her always-beautiful heart – and sharing with her in the excitement of stepping into this next creative phase of her life.

And now, in an act of inspired rebellion at rules, I extend my love for Brenda with a seventh sentence, celebrating a long and joy-filled life of following her heart wherever it leads her, giggling at the passion with which she will write her books and with which she will “create a safe and loving environment where others feel inspired and empowered to discover and to perform their own beautiful music”.

I love you Brenda!!!

Trusting The Peace

Today is Thursday, June 18, 2015 … and I giggle as I ponder that I still do not even know what I will be doing tomorrow.

My ever-active tour-guide mind feels a little impatient, telling me I need to keep moving … that I need to head north now … as if there were something pressing that must be done … as if there were some critical place I need to be.

But my heart has no such feelings. I feel peace and relaxation at the idea of just staying here a few more days, catching up on my writing and photo posts. I like the idea of being caught up. It feels peaceful and stress-free.

The guidance is very subtle. I am learning to trust the feelings I have, without demanding any kind of mental surety.

So, I guess I am continuing into the unknown, following the compass of peace – a compass that tells me to get the photos in order, to slow down and rest a few more days.

One day soon I will hop on a bus again, likely heading north toward the town of Baños, Ecuador, for an undetermined number of days.

It is kind of fun to trust the unknown … to simply trust what I feel.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

As my journey extends through Ecuador, I continue to participate with three other friends in a project – a project of answering weekly questions to each other – a project that I have also been sharing (my writings) here in my blog.

I just finished another of those writings. I have done several others in the last month, and will post them soon, but this one is calling out for me to publish it separately.

In the remainder of this post, I share tidbits of my life story, along with details of how my belief systems have evolved and unraveled over sixty years of living.

Following is word-for-word what I just finished emailing to my friends:

Shifting Beliefs

This morning, I had every intention of jumping right into my writing, but this time, I felt very distracted and unmotivated. Finally, I followed a little inner nudge and stepped out into the beautiful city of Cuenca, Ecuador … first buying an inexpensive watch that I desperately needed (my last one has been falling apart and disintegrating for more than a month).

Then, as I walked through the main town plaza of Cuenca, I surrendered to a synchronous journey that perfectly fits into my writing assignment. I will share that story later.

So, here I am at 2:15 p.m., finally sitting at my computer while feeling the inspiration to write. I just chewed and swallowed a full dose of Peruvian cacao to help the energies flow and inspire. Without further delay, I now dive into answering my own question ….

(I just now finished writing, and I apologize in advance for how long this turned out to be. It seems that this is all preparing me for material that will be in future books, and I simply have to put it all into words.)

How have your belief systems evolved and shifted during your journey of life? … and what are some of the more powerful ways in which your life changed as a result?

Throughout most of my first 28 years, my beliefs were quite fixed and unbendable. Even with all of my gender struggles, I strongly identified with the religious and cultural teachings of my childhood. I desperately wanted to be loved and validated by family and church, and had no intention of ever stepping out of that well-defined box.

Were it not for my undeniable gender struggles, I would never have questioned any of those beliefs, and would likely have lived my entire life clinging to that version of “truth” as was taught to me.

I now overflow with deep gratitude, because those gender struggles turned out to be my ticket to an agonizing-but-magical journey of transformation. Once I climbed aboard that train, there was no stopping the journey.

Late in my thirty-first year, the foundation of my religious beliefs crumbled into a pile of rubble. During a soul-searching journey in Zion National Park in southern Utah – a solo quest involving a desperate attempt to figure out my gender confusion – intuitive guidance strongly guided me that it was time to pursue my gender transition. The inner message was subtle, but strong and quite undeniable.

“No God would ever guide me to do such a thing,” I pondered in stunned anger and rebellion. The guidance I received went against everything I believed at the time.

In a matter of hours, I lost all faith in a Higher Power, and became a self-proclaimed atheist. I knew I was a good person … but I knew that my religion could never accept that fact, and would instead label me as a perverted sinner.

In an attempt to resolve this “cognitive dissonance” that was destroying me, I obliterated all belief in God. It seemed to be the only way I could follow my heart-guidance without further burying myself under mountains of additional self-hatred and self-loathing.

A few weeks later, I was no longer a member of my childhood religion, but I somehow found the courage to stay married – to openly discuss my struggles with the mother of my children – searching for a compromise where I could explore “Brenda” within the confines of our marriage.

Ten years later, as it became increasingly obvious that I would be emotionally (and likely physically) dead if I tried to live the remainder of my life in a continued lie, I faced the agonizing choice to live – a decision that involved placing my entire life “all in” on the poker table, betting it all on one hand, knowing that I would likely lose everything that I loved and held dear.

Imagine my surprise when at age forty-two, just months after completing a round of difficult surgeries to complete my transformation, I began to feel whisperings of spiritual connection that did not make sense to the mind. Somehow, amidst the peace of finally having a body that matched my heart, I began to relax, and Higher Energies made it obvious that I did believe in some type of God out there, somewhere in the unknown heavens.

And since the only “God” I had experience with in my life was that of my childhood religion, I immediately began to pursue getting re-baptized in that religion. The quest made no sense to me logically, but my heart demanded that I begin this journey, once again shifting my belief systems based on the undeniable whims of inner guidance.

Five years later, I was devastated when a local leader in that religion made it painfully clear that, under his leadership, I would never be allowed in full fellowship back into that church. I felt so confused and betrayed. I sobbed and sobbed, collapsing into a ball of confusion and self-pity. Over the next couple of years, my entire life began to crumble around me, in many agonizing ways, in nearly all arenas of daily life.

A few years later, following my magical-but-still-broken heart, I began to get massages once a week. I soon became close friends with my massage therapist, Alisa, as we engaged in magical weekly discussions that literally consumed our entire sessions together. Alisa started feeding me books that began to gradually open my mind as far as the spiritual possibilities of an ever-expanding Universe.

And it was in early September, 2003, at age forty-eight, that I participated in my first ‘Journey Seminars’ workshop. I entered that weekend desperately trying to be strong, but underneath I continued to struggle from a crumbling life. At the end of that magical three-day weekend, I emerged with a whole new inspired and hopeful outlook on my existence. I shifted so many beliefs in such a short amount of time – and I once again overflowed with unconditional love and excitement for living.

I began to realize that I am a beautiful person, that I have so much to celebrate, and that I do not need the validation of others to define me, and that the rejection by my religion was actually a huge gift – one for which I was actually quite grateful.

In the midst of feeling those renewed spiritual feelings at age forty-two, I had tried to put myself back into my childhood religious box, trying to conform and look a certain way in order to find love and acceptance. When that box kept shrinking to the point of finally collapsing, I had felt deeply betrayed by the very spiritual feelings that were awakening within me.

But, after that September 2003 weekend of intense-but-profound emotional processing (in Journey Seminars), I came to embody the metaphorical realization that I had been like a baby bird clinging to a tiny branch at the top of a very tall tree – and that what my local church leader had done was to whack me from behind, blindsiding me, pushing me off that branch, forcing me to spread my wings and to fly on my own unique journey – forcing me to once-and-for-all let go of those old beliefs that kept me anchored to that childhood religious box.

Over the next two years, my entire world began to open up. I volunteered to assist in as many of those ‘Journey Seminars’ workshops as I could, sharing my healing love with others as I continued to raise my own vibration of self-love. I began to feel a deep longing to write a book about my life. And in 2005, I was shocked by a literal voice in my head that told me “You are going back to school to get a master’s degree in counseling.”

I was alive – more alive than I ever imagined feeling – connecting with profound levels of intuitive guidance that I never imagined possible. Yet, in retrospect, I see that I was still clinging to many old beliefs, still trying to fit into the old world, afraid to leave my old boxes behind. And yes, I continued to harbor a huge reservoir of hidden, self-sabotaging emotional agony that caused me ongoing grief as I continued to heal.

Between 2005 and 2009 (when I graduated with that master’s degree), my life completely shifted from left-brain logic-based to one of learning to increasingly trust my heart and intuitive side. In 2007, I was laid off from my computer career of twenty-nine years, and I never looked back. On a very frequent basis, synchronous events blew me away with their unexpected guidance – guidance that culminated in April 2009 with an undeniable knowing that I needed to uproot my entire life and begin to travel and write.

But still, many of my deepest beliefs remained unquestioned. I fully embraced many quasi-new-age teachings, especially identifying with “A Course In Miracles” – but I was still locked into a confusing mental version of those beliefs, not really understanding the deeper meaning of what I was searching for.

It was in March of 2010, late in the first year of my travels. I had just finished a month in Belize with an amazing ten-day adventure of living in a tiny Mayan village in the mountains of southern Belize. I was in my first weeks in Guatemala as I finished up writing a series of five blogs that flowed seamlessly, documenting my magical time in that Mayan village. After finishing that inspired story, I woke up early the very next morning, having had an incredibly vivid dream.

In the first part of that dream I had been kidnapped and taken to a beautiful Caribbean island. As I meditated about the amazing symbolism of that dream, I knew that I was being shown the future unraveling of ego and the beginning of a new magical adventure in my life. Somewhere in the midst of this pondering I unexpectedly fell back to sleep.

In the second part of the dream, I awoke with a start. I had been standing in a dark room. Directly in front of me was a tall, beautiful woman, dressed in a glowing, radiant, white dress. We had been having a long and deep conversation. As I jolted back to consciousness, two phrases that the woman spoke remained with me in vivid detail.

Those two phrases were: “Forget everything you know … and lower your defenses.”

In the unbelievable five years since that profound dream – a dream that I still see as if it happened just an hour ago – my entire journey has been about dropping my conditioned resistance – my trying to control things – and gradually unraveling everything I thought I knew.

During my three-and-half years in Guatemala, layer after layer of old beliefs and conditioning peeled away, falling by the wayside. I was shocked by how many layers of “what I thought I knew” just simply dissolved into the imaginary waste basket of “no longer useful to me”.

During my last year in Peru – while living in nine months of near isolation – I immersed myself in around eighty-five solo ceremonies with a plant medicine called Huachuma (San Pedro cactus). This beautiful medicine took me to a place of connecting to my Higher Guides in ways where I was directly channeling their guidance (to myself) for the benefit of my own unfolding process. I experienced a magical and blissful mixture of unfolding self-love while going through occasional agonizing emotional release that stood in the way of that love.

During the fall of 2014, much of that channeled guidance was about my belief systems. I was clearly shown how my belief systems literally create the reality that I perceive – how what I believe to be true is what will be mirrored back to me as the world that I experience.

Many teachers (including A Course In Miracles) teach that our journey to awakening is about unraveling our limiting beliefs. I had understood this concept at a mental level for many years, but my extensive journey with Huachuma took me into an experiential world of healing and channeled guidance that expanded my life experience in ways that were light-years beyond a simple understanding of the mind.

In one particularly profound journey, I was shown that my belief systems are literally like restrictive boxes – like self-imposed prisons that limit my ability to expand and to perceive the possibilities of a much larger Universe that has always been all around me – like mental prisons that limit my capacity to love without conditions.

From that time forward, my medicine journeys became a quest to unravel one limiting belief after another – and I was not even aware that most of those beliefs were still inside of me. I became painfully aware that I have lived my life in auto-pilot mode, rarely questioning why I do most things – I just do them.

Often the unraveling of beliefs required deep emotional pain to be felt and released. It was hidden pain – emotional pain that I once unknowingly cherished as my justification for ‘playing small’.

The process of unraveling beliefs continues to be an ongoing one in my life. But now, I am excited to question everything that I think I know – to question why I think it is true – to question how my life would be different if I let that belief dissolve away.

And each time I do this, my heart expands a little more and my excitement and zest for a loving life just get more energized with joy.

The more my beliefs disintegrate, the more I learn to trust and surrender to the present moment – the more I learn to simply live my life with a knowing that my Higher Self is always guiding me from a level beyond mental awareness – the more I simply trust and surrender to this moment. It is actually fun to no longer care about being right, or about knowing something clever.

What totally surprised me in this journey was the number of cherished spiritual beliefs that have fallen by the wayside. I learned that even spiritual beliefs – thinking I know and understand how the Universe works – caused me to limit the possibilities of experience.

After years of learning to “Forget everything I know”, my heart is finally opening, and life is increasingly filling with joy and love. I cannot wait for more of those limiting beliefs to reveal themselves, so that I can continue the magical expansion.

So this brings me back to today – to this morning as I wandered around the historic central plaza of Cuenca, Ecuador. While experiencing a little writer’s block, I had set out to take care of errands and to see what might synchronously cross my path.

As I approached the plaza, I noticed eight young women, dressed in beautiful red costumes, decorated with elaborate multi-colored embroidery. They seemed to be preparing to perform a dance – but they mostly stood around waiting, and so did I.

As I observed and remained present, I overheard that they were going to dance in preparation for a mass that would take place in the cathedral, directly across the street, at 11:30 a.m. – a forty minute delay for me. Finally at about 11:15 a.m., their dance began. It was beautiful and heartfelt – leaving me peaceful and enthralled with their beauty. Meanwhile, the road was closed and a decorated pickup truck had pulled up. On top, in a homemade float style, was a canopy sheltering what looked like a large golden bible, propped open in the middle.

When the young women finished dancing, they crossed the street and entered the cathedral. I followed them, soon noticing a poster indicating that “the blood of Pope John Paul II” would be on display in Cuenca from June 17 – 20, 2015. I soon put two and two together, and realized that the open bible (which was now on a platform above the shoulders of four reverent men) was some kind of container carrying real (or symbolic) remains of the deceased pope, and that this mass was the celebration of its arrival.

I was not the least bit interested in celebrating a pope, nor in embracing the religious ritual that was unfolding before me, but something in my heart told me to stay and simply observe with an open heart. I have always been fascinated by the cultural aspect of things.

As the “golden-colored bible” was carried down the aisle and placed at the front of the cathedral, a huge crowd filled the entire building, and all radiated an energy of love, excitement, and pure adoration.

As I stood there in reverent silence, paying attention to the energy running through me, I was so overwhelmed by the high-vibration of love radiating through my energy channels that I found myself on the verge of tears – tears of deep loving joy. Intuition told me that what I was feeling was pure unconditional love – love radiating throughout the cathedral – love that had nothing to do with the religion or its beliefs – love that had nothing to do with past abuses of children or religious wars and inquisitions – it was pure unconditional love radiating from the hearts of these devoted people, period.

The guidance flowed freely, saturating my soul with joy that resonated for hours afterward. I was magically shown that unconditional divine love is at the core of everyone and everything. It can be found in every religion, business, or organization of any type. Yes, there are people who are lost, and who act unlovingly from their place of “lost-ness” – but underneath it all, beneath the mask of every wounded ego, is the same, pure divine love that I was feeling in that moment.

In the process of this magical experience I released another layer of beliefs that caused me to subtly judge many religious organizations – causing me to recognize that the pure love of the divine includes everything, whether it is recognized by me or not.

So, in closing, I would like to summarize.

My belief systems have undergone massive refurbishing throughout my ever-shifting journey, and the further I spiral down the rabbit hole of undoing, the more I find myself releasing concepts of any ‘absolute truth’, or judgment of ‘right and wrong’, or ‘good and evil’.

In the place of those beliefs, I find myself increasingly embracing the divine perfection of what is – seeing it all as a divine playground, as my personal holodeck, where my job is to learn to simply love without conditions – to see the divine in all things and in all people. And as I practice this ongoing and evolving process, I am amazed by how increasingly loving my world seems to become.

It is so amazing to watch the restrictive boxes – those mental prisons – opening one by one and dissolving into nothingness.

Copyright © 2015 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved