**This is an ongoing series recapping my last vacation. The movie rights to this blog have already been sold and Warner Bros. is in talks with Zac Efron to play the dreamy consonants, Miley Cyrus the innocent vowels, and Raven-Symoné the sassy punctuation marks.**
Our last full day at the Napo Wildlife Center began with the discovery of two small holes chewed through my pants which had been hanging on the wall not bothering anybody. The holes didn't lead to a pocket of forgotten snacks or anything like that. Just two random holes letting me know that if I thought I'd get through an entire vacation day without some kind of problem, I was sorely mistaken.
I can't remember if we had to wake up at 5:30am that day or we got to sleep in until 6. Either way, we had dragon fruit as part of our breakfast. MmmBop! That's a tasty fruit. I should mention that I found the food during our entire stay at the resort to be absolutely fabulous and I'm a historically picky eater. I still remember that breakthrough day back in high school when I finally tasted that "chicken" stuff everyone was talking about. It didn't taste like anything, by the way.
I loved everything they served us at the NWC, especially the gigantic avocado with tuna plopped inside. It's too bad Dolphin Trainer™ missed out on lots of the food due to his tummy issues. He either had to skip meals or eat a specially created "this will make you feel better" meal (and we all know how delicious those are). The bartender, who looked like a South American Simon Cowell, often served Dolphin Trainer™ a special drink to settle his stomach and would then insult him for having "no drinking talent whatsoever" and a sickness that was "completely lacking in originality".
The great thing about mornings in the Amazon is the lovely sound of distant howler monkeys. I think horror film sound crews must travel all the way to the Amazon just to record howler monkeys for all their monster audio needs.
As we listened to the Amazon's Evil Dead soundtrack, we took a canoe ride around the back side of the lagoon. It looked like we were traveling through Dagobah and I kept waiting for a sunken X-wing fighter to bubble to the surface. After a short hike, we made it to the NWC's canopy tower where a winding metal staircase leads 125 feet up to a platform that sits on a Kapok tree and offers tremendous views of Yasuni National Park.
Miguel set up his telescope and soon he and Silvario were spotting birds (which Dolphin Trainer™ hates). In short time, we were joined by two more guides and their guest, a portly fellow who I honestly didn't think would make it up the stairs. I never give people enough credit and, no, I didn't think Susan Boyle would be able to sing a lick, either.
I should mention that on this day we were supposed to add four more tourists to our group, but they canceled and so we had Miguel and Silvario all to ourselves for our entire trip. I'd also like to mention that Portly Fellow™ had quite an odor about him. It was quite the scene: seven guys on top of a tree in the Amazon rainforest trying to ignore the pervasive aroma of portly sweat while birdwatching amidst the calls of demonic monkeys.
I am pleased to report that I found the first toucan of the day, especially since I love Fruit Loops! I was less successful locating a silly rabbit or a lucky leprechaun. My observational skills, however, weren't even in the same universe as the guides. They were able to spot birds, monkeys, zygotes, neutrinos, Waldo, and the elusive Higgs boson with hardly any effort. They even found a three-toed sloth which was very far away, barely moving at all, and almost indistinguishable from its surroundings. I say we commission them to find Osama bin Laden, Amelia Earhart, and my old Wang Chung mixtape (everybody did not have fun the night I misplaced that).
At one point, Miguel took out a little tape recorder and began playing specific bird calls in order to draw them in. And it worked! I don't remember what kind of bird it was, but it came closer and closer to the tree stand in search of its hidden pal. That was pretty cool. Apparently, Miguel had taped these bird calls over his own mixtape from his youth because later we were all surprised when he accidentally left the tape running and Menudo showed up.
Not to kick a dead horse like I did in my last entry, but, yes, Dolphin Trainer™ had to leave the canopy tower early to release his own wang chung into an uncovered pit toilet. He really should have taken photos of all the horrible places he had to poop. That'd make for a nice album on Picasa.
Back at the lodge, we ate lunch with Portly Fellow™ and his guide. The subject of malaria came up. Dolphin Trainer™ took the advice of his doctor and was taking anti-malaria medication whereas I took the advice of laziness (who wants to take the time to make a doctor's appointment?) and took none. Actually, I took the advice of my travel agent who said he never takes any when he visits Napo. Miguel and the other guide said that malaria is unheard of in the area because no one has it. Therefore, mosquitoes can't carry what no one has. I felt pretty good about my decision to risk it until Portly Fellow™ shared his story about contracting malaria in Africa and being in the hospital for 3 months and not fully recovering until three years later. Oh. So that's what I was risking? I might just visit the doctor before my next trip.
That afternoon we hiked for two hours in the jungle and saw Miguel purposefully disturb a Congo or "Bullet" ant nest and then warn us to stay away since the bite from one is strong enough to kill 100 zombie howler monkeys. Silvario painstakingly showed us how the Añangu take the leaves of a certain plant, manipulate them in some way, and then do something with them. Yeah, sorry, I wasn't really paying attention at the time, but I think it had something to do with either medicine or time travel. One of the two.
We hiked through a swamp to reunite with Some Other Guy™ (remember him?) and begin our canoe ride back to the resort. Before the sun went down, we actually got to see evil howler monkeys (click on that hyperlink to see one of my favorite videos on the internet--gotta love that woman!) and pray for their lost souls.
As the sun went down, Miguel's spotlight came out and we saw bats, fireflies, and caiman (spanish for alligator). We saw different size caiman, but none really large. I guess you can't get super large alligators in the Amazon because kids can't flush them down the toilet--they have to go into the trashcan with the toilet paper.
That night Dolphin Trainer™, who apparently thought he was one of the German tourists, settled up his enormous bar tab and got one sympathy "yes" vote from Paula. He also bought some t-shirts from their "gift shop" that said, "I visited the Napo Wildlife Center and all I got was the runs". We packed for an early morning departure and I spent our final night in the Amazon dreaming of howler monkeys eating the brains of Dolphin Trainer™ and then running to whatever outhouse they use immediately after.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Travel Blog '09 -- Part 5 -- The Amazon Day 2
**This is an ongoing series recapping my last vacation. Approximate date of completion will be December 21st, 2012.**
Although I was disappointed by the book collection at the Napo Wildlife Center, I was looking forward to finally sleeping in a bed covered by a mosquito net because it's not only protection against disease-carrying insects, it's also an impenetrable barrier against the Boogeyman who can never be completely stopped by a single bed sheet unless you're willing to risk suffocation.
Our cabana was quite cozy, in a Swiss Family Robinson meets the Holiday Inn meets the part in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Short Round says, "Feels like I step on fortune cookies" type of way. Our bathroom included a wastebasket for used toilet paper which is not unheard of in South America, or in gas station restrooms throughout the United States. This meant that rather than worrying about clogging up the toilet, I would now have to worry about overflowing a small trashcan instead. Then again, Dolphin Trainer™ with his perpetual sickness was the one spending the most time decorating the toilet paper collection in our bathroom.
There were no locks on the front door, but there was a safety deposit box in the room. They basically dared us to use it since they told us on the first night that no one had ever had a problem, but they would gladly give us the key for the box if we asked. Before the trip, I remember reading one traveler's online review of the Napo Wildlife Center that claimed that some of their belongings were missing from their luggage by the end of their stay. Considering that we had just been victims of thieves in Quito, I doubt anyone would be surprised that we just shrugged our shoulders and said, "Oh well. I guess our stuff will be safe." We certainly didn't want to offend the Añangu by asking for a key.
But we should have! Or maybe we should have asked for a room with rodent nets because I awoke the first morning with a nice hole chewed through my backpack and a bag of snacks inside that was chewed up as well. I don't know what the backpack gods had against me, but I must have done something to incur their frequent wrath.
On our first day at the Napo Wildlife Center, while Dolphin Trainer™ was in the bathroom trying to keep his large intestine inside his body, our guide Miguel asked me what we'd like to see most during our stay because he likes to tailor a unique experience for guests depending upon their preferences.
Miguel: Anything in particular you're hoping to see while you're here?
Brandon: Anaconda.
Miguel: There's a good chance we'll see one if the sun comes out. They hide when it rains.
Brandon: No, no, the movie Anaconda. I hear it's hilariously bad. J-Lo's pretty tight, though.
Miguel: ???
In reality, I told him I just wanted to see anything I've never seen before. And then I added, "We're not really into birds or plants." Yeah, I actually said that. I didn't realize it at the time, but that statement was the equivalent of going to the Giza Plateau in Egypt and telling a guide, "We're not fond of pyramids or ruins of any kind. And camels are pretty boring, too."
Later I recounted the story to Dolphin Trainer™ and he told me, "Speak for yourself, I love birds!" Well, sorry DT™, but that's what happens when, during trip-defining moments, you find yourself a captive audience in a bathroom as your body performs a tribute to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.
Napo Wildlife Center is bird central! All birds, all the time. When Bambi was learning how to pronounce his first word, he would have felt right at home there. We awoke early the first day to go to some parrot licks which is where parrots (who were mostly green since Napo is an eco-lodge) gather to lick clay. We visited two separate clay licks and spent considerable time watching all the birds eat dirt. Dolphin Trainer™ spent considerable time in both places fertilizing the dirt at the bottom of outhouses. At the clay licks, you have to be silent and patient because the birds are very cautious of predators. Even though Dolphin Trainer™ fell asleep at the second clay lick because he hates birds, we both got to see some scarlet macaws which, when guilty, are usually found in the Library with the Candlestick.
The highlight of the day was supposed to be a visit with the local shaman who, according to Miguel, is "the most respected member of the community". He is a very busy man, but was going to take time out to demonstrate some rituals for us and hopefully cure the backpack hex I had fallen under. Before our scheduled meeting, we were taken to a workshop where members of the Añangu community make ceramics and wood carvings suitable for purchase. I'm not one to buy trinkets, but thankfully Dolphin Trainer™ always feels obligated to purchase souvenirs from locals. And it was good karma for him too, as he immediately had to run to the bathroom to leave some souvenirs of his own.
We were introduced to the shaman and told hang out on some hammocks prior to our personal audience with him. Unfortunately, we never did get our private session because we were soon whisked away to see some teeny little monkeys (or pygmy marmosets if you're one of those "into knowledge" weirdos). Later on I saw the shaman doing routine janitorial work and it made me wonder if "shaman" is an actual position or just something they take turns acting out to trick credulous tourists as if we're modern day Margaret Meads.
Añangu #1: "Whose turn is it to play shaman?"
Añangu #2: "I did it last week. Besides, my doctor says I need to stay off my feet."
Añangu #1: "OK. Hey, my daughter's cello lessons got rescheduled. Do you think your son can cover the 'naked kid who plays in the mud' shift tomorrow?"
Añangu #2: "No problem. I'll text him as soon as Dancing With The Stars is over."
On our way back to the resort, we saw a rare giant otter and even a small anaconda curled up on the river bank clearly disappointed with its lot in life. That's understandable. Imagine how you'd feel if the name of your species was linked to a movie like Eight Legged Freaks or Snakes on a Plane or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?
A large group from Germany, who apparently thought Oktoberfest was a year round occasion, checked into the resort that day and at dinner one of them celebrated a birthday. We all got to eat specially prepared birthday cake except for Dolphin Trainer™ who was busy in our cabana making slithery anaconda-like droppings. The very lengthy birthday song they sang sounded more like a national anthem and made me curious if "Happy Birthday" is sung before German sporting events. I'm sure Norm MacDonald would be as surprised as I was that they didn't sing a David Hasselhoff song.
After dinner, Dolphin Trainer™ was well enough to go on a night hike. Miguel gave us some rain boots and he and Silvario led us on a trail along the outskirts of the resort. Armed with only flashlights, we spotted leaf-cutter ants, frogs, eight legged freaks, killer tomatoes, and lots of other creepy crawlies, some of which gave me bites that I still have blemishes from almost two months later.
A long day (and blog entry!) came to an end as I picked ants out of my underpants, showered in alternately hot and cold water, dried off with a towel speckled with dead flies, said a prayer to the backpack gods, and lay down inside my protective net wondering which Añangu was scheduled to work the Boogeyman shift that night.
Although I was disappointed by the book collection at the Napo Wildlife Center, I was looking forward to finally sleeping in a bed covered by a mosquito net because it's not only protection against disease-carrying insects, it's also an impenetrable barrier against the Boogeyman who can never be completely stopped by a single bed sheet unless you're willing to risk suffocation.
Our cabana was quite cozy, in a Swiss Family Robinson meets the Holiday Inn meets the part in Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Short Round says, "Feels like I step on fortune cookies" type of way. Our bathroom included a wastebasket for used toilet paper which is not unheard of in South America, or in gas station restrooms throughout the United States. This meant that rather than worrying about clogging up the toilet, I would now have to worry about overflowing a small trashcan instead. Then again, Dolphin Trainer™ with his perpetual sickness was the one spending the most time decorating the toilet paper collection in our bathroom.
There were no locks on the front door, but there was a safety deposit box in the room. They basically dared us to use it since they told us on the first night that no one had ever had a problem, but they would gladly give us the key for the box if we asked. Before the trip, I remember reading one traveler's online review of the Napo Wildlife Center that claimed that some of their belongings were missing from their luggage by the end of their stay. Considering that we had just been victims of thieves in Quito, I doubt anyone would be surprised that we just shrugged our shoulders and said, "Oh well. I guess our stuff will be safe." We certainly didn't want to offend the Añangu by asking for a key.
But we should have! Or maybe we should have asked for a room with rodent nets because I awoke the first morning with a nice hole chewed through my backpack and a bag of snacks inside that was chewed up as well. I don't know what the backpack gods had against me, but I must have done something to incur their frequent wrath.
On our first day at the Napo Wildlife Center, while Dolphin Trainer™ was in the bathroom trying to keep his large intestine inside his body, our guide Miguel asked me what we'd like to see most during our stay because he likes to tailor a unique experience for guests depending upon their preferences.
Miguel: Anything in particular you're hoping to see while you're here?
Brandon: Anaconda.
Miguel: There's a good chance we'll see one if the sun comes out. They hide when it rains.
Brandon: No, no, the movie Anaconda. I hear it's hilariously bad. J-Lo's pretty tight, though.
Miguel: ???
In reality, I told him I just wanted to see anything I've never seen before. And then I added, "We're not really into birds or plants." Yeah, I actually said that. I didn't realize it at the time, but that statement was the equivalent of going to the Giza Plateau in Egypt and telling a guide, "We're not fond of pyramids or ruins of any kind. And camels are pretty boring, too."
Later I recounted the story to Dolphin Trainer™ and he told me, "Speak for yourself, I love birds!" Well, sorry DT™, but that's what happens when, during trip-defining moments, you find yourself a captive audience in a bathroom as your body performs a tribute to Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture.
Napo Wildlife Center is bird central! All birds, all the time. When Bambi was learning how to pronounce his first word, he would have felt right at home there. We awoke early the first day to go to some parrot licks which is where parrots (who were mostly green since Napo is an eco-lodge) gather to lick clay. We visited two separate clay licks and spent considerable time watching all the birds eat dirt. Dolphin Trainer™ spent considerable time in both places fertilizing the dirt at the bottom of outhouses. At the clay licks, you have to be silent and patient because the birds are very cautious of predators. Even though Dolphin Trainer™ fell asleep at the second clay lick because he hates birds, we both got to see some scarlet macaws which, when guilty, are usually found in the Library with the Candlestick.
The highlight of the day was supposed to be a visit with the local shaman who, according to Miguel, is "the most respected member of the community". He is a very busy man, but was going to take time out to demonstrate some rituals for us and hopefully cure the backpack hex I had fallen under. Before our scheduled meeting, we were taken to a workshop where members of the Añangu community make ceramics and wood carvings suitable for purchase. I'm not one to buy trinkets, but thankfully Dolphin Trainer™ always feels obligated to purchase souvenirs from locals. And it was good karma for him too, as he immediately had to run to the bathroom to leave some souvenirs of his own.
We were introduced to the shaman and told hang out on some hammocks prior to our personal audience with him. Unfortunately, we never did get our private session because we were soon whisked away to see some teeny little monkeys (or pygmy marmosets if you're one of those "into knowledge" weirdos). Later on I saw the shaman doing routine janitorial work and it made me wonder if "shaman" is an actual position or just something they take turns acting out to trick credulous tourists as if we're modern day Margaret Meads.
Añangu #1: "Whose turn is it to play shaman?"
Añangu #2: "I did it last week. Besides, my doctor says I need to stay off my feet."
Añangu #1: "OK. Hey, my daughter's cello lessons got rescheduled. Do you think your son can cover the 'naked kid who plays in the mud' shift tomorrow?"
Añangu #2: "No problem. I'll text him as soon as Dancing With The Stars is over."
On our way back to the resort, we saw a rare giant otter and even a small anaconda curled up on the river bank clearly disappointed with its lot in life. That's understandable. Imagine how you'd feel if the name of your species was linked to a movie like Eight Legged Freaks or Snakes on a Plane or Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?
A large group from Germany, who apparently thought Oktoberfest was a year round occasion, checked into the resort that day and at dinner one of them celebrated a birthday. We all got to eat specially prepared birthday cake except for Dolphin Trainer™ who was busy in our cabana making slithery anaconda-like droppings. The very lengthy birthday song they sang sounded more like a national anthem and made me curious if "Happy Birthday" is sung before German sporting events. I'm sure Norm MacDonald would be as surprised as I was that they didn't sing a David Hasselhoff song.
After dinner, Dolphin Trainer™ was well enough to go on a night hike. Miguel gave us some rain boots and he and Silvario led us on a trail along the outskirts of the resort. Armed with only flashlights, we spotted leaf-cutter ants, frogs, eight legged freaks, killer tomatoes, and lots of other creepy crawlies, some of which gave me bites that I still have blemishes from almost two months later.
A long day (and blog entry!) came to an end as I picked ants out of my underpants, showered in alternately hot and cold water, dried off with a towel speckled with dead flies, said a prayer to the backpack gods, and lay down inside my protective net wondering which Añangu was scheduled to work the Boogeyman shift that night.
Thursday, April 09, 2009
Travel Blog '09 -- Part 4 -- The Amazon
**This is an ongoing series recapping my last vacation. My usual blog "Gardening Resources for the Manly Man" will resume when this series is over.**
I awoke on Friday, March 6th ready to fulfill a dream I've had ever since I first ordered books online: to travel to the Amazon! We flew from Quito to Coca (still in Ecuador) and were met at the airport by our naturalist guide, Miguel, who was a wealth of information about rainforest flora and fauna, but was surprisingly uninformed when it came to Amazon.com's return policy.
We boarded a motorized canoe and began a two hour ride down the Napo river which eventually feeds into the Amazon river which eventually feeds into the Atlantic ocean which eventually drops off the side of the earth, according to various 16th century maps and some people in Lancaster, California.
Our destination was the Napo Wildlife Center, an eco-resort owned and run by the local Añangu people who had a simple dream in the early 1990s: to build a Indian casino and siphon gamblers away from Las Vegas. Unfortunately, they did not have any ancestral land in the United States, so they were forced to settle on building a luxury eco-hotel in the upper Amazon basin. The Añangu community is unique in that they conserve 82 square miles of pristine forest by refusing to hunt or fish in the territory and therefore support themselves solely through eco-tourism.
We arrived at the "Welcome Center" and met our other guide, Silvario, a local Añangu who had a sharp eye for wildlife but a blank stare whenever I asked why some items don't qualify for Free Super Saver Shipping even if the total is over $25.
We transferred to a dug-out canoe and Silvario, Miguel, and Some Other Guy™ proceeded to paddle us up the Añangu river toward the lodge. It was exactly what you'd imagine a visit to the Amazon rainforest to be like: a meandering canoe journey through a convoluted thicket of trees and oversize vegetation pleasantly scored by a soundtrack of unseen insects, exotic birds, and distant calls from creatures you could hardly imagine and couldn't wait to spot.
Oh--and this is where Dolphin Trainer™ wanted to throw up.
Apparently, something didn't agree with his stomach. Perhaps it was the ceviche (or "soup of human mucus" as I like to call it) that he ate the night before. He suddenly grew pale and even stopped taking photos! When Dolphin Trainer™ stops taking photos, it's best to check for a pulse first before jumping to any other conclusion. After a few minutes of "Hey, now you're whiter than Brandon" jokes, Dolphin Trainer™ regained the color in his face and began stealing the souls of Amazonian wildlife once again.
It took about an hour and a half for our guides to paddle us to the lodge. Along the way, Miguel and Silvario pointed out many birds for us to photograph including the Hoatzin or "Stinky Turkey" which is a fun nickname to bestow upon your travel companion. At least, that's what Dolphin Trainer™ claims. Personally, I think it is not fun or funny at all.
Jerk.
In fact, if anyone was a "Stinky Turkey" while we were in the Amazon, I'd say it was Dolphin Trainer™ who unfortunately never fully recovered from his sudden sickness and spent a lot of quality time over the next 3 days adding to the human compost of the jungle.
When we arrived at the picturesque resort nestled on the shore of Añangu lagoon, we were greeted by the manager of the hotel, the bartender with welcoming drinks on a tray, and a bank of Wheel of Fortune slot machines (their dream came true!).
The resort consists of 10 native-style cabanas, a large dining hall, and a 50 foot observation tower. I could hardly contain my excitement as I ran up the cozy footpath to the main building. After years of anticipation, I knew this would be a moment to savor. I leaped up the steps and entered a place that, up to that point, had only seemed to exist in my imagination. Breathlessly, I tried to communicate my eagerness to one of the workers who clearly did not speak much English at all. After some moments of confusion, he finally understood and pointed to a corner of the dining hall.
And there it was.
Or...wasn't.
I found just one lousy bookshelf sparsely filled with less than 20 used books. I don't know where the hell Amazon keeps that huge inventory, but it certainly isn't at the Napo Wildlife Center.
I awoke on Friday, March 6th ready to fulfill a dream I've had ever since I first ordered books online: to travel to the Amazon! We flew from Quito to Coca (still in Ecuador) and were met at the airport by our naturalist guide, Miguel, who was a wealth of information about rainforest flora and fauna, but was surprisingly uninformed when it came to Amazon.com's return policy.
We boarded a motorized canoe and began a two hour ride down the Napo river which eventually feeds into the Amazon river which eventually feeds into the Atlantic ocean which eventually drops off the side of the earth, according to various 16th century maps and some people in Lancaster, California.
Our destination was the Napo Wildlife Center, an eco-resort owned and run by the local Añangu people who had a simple dream in the early 1990s: to build a Indian casino and siphon gamblers away from Las Vegas. Unfortunately, they did not have any ancestral land in the United States, so they were forced to settle on building a luxury eco-hotel in the upper Amazon basin. The Añangu community is unique in that they conserve 82 square miles of pristine forest by refusing to hunt or fish in the territory and therefore support themselves solely through eco-tourism.
We arrived at the "Welcome Center" and met our other guide, Silvario, a local Añangu who had a sharp eye for wildlife but a blank stare whenever I asked why some items don't qualify for Free Super Saver Shipping even if the total is over $25.
We transferred to a dug-out canoe and Silvario, Miguel, and Some Other Guy™ proceeded to paddle us up the Añangu river toward the lodge. It was exactly what you'd imagine a visit to the Amazon rainforest to be like: a meandering canoe journey through a convoluted thicket of trees and oversize vegetation pleasantly scored by a soundtrack of unseen insects, exotic birds, and distant calls from creatures you could hardly imagine and couldn't wait to spot.
Oh--and this is where Dolphin Trainer™ wanted to throw up.
Apparently, something didn't agree with his stomach. Perhaps it was the ceviche (or "soup of human mucus" as I like to call it) that he ate the night before. He suddenly grew pale and even stopped taking photos! When Dolphin Trainer™ stops taking photos, it's best to check for a pulse first before jumping to any other conclusion. After a few minutes of "Hey, now you're whiter than Brandon" jokes, Dolphin Trainer™ regained the color in his face and began stealing the souls of Amazonian wildlife once again.
It took about an hour and a half for our guides to paddle us to the lodge. Along the way, Miguel and Silvario pointed out many birds for us to photograph including the Hoatzin or "Stinky Turkey" which is a fun nickname to bestow upon your travel companion. At least, that's what Dolphin Trainer™ claims. Personally, I think it is not fun or funny at all.
Jerk.
In fact, if anyone was a "Stinky Turkey" while we were in the Amazon, I'd say it was Dolphin Trainer™ who unfortunately never fully recovered from his sudden sickness and spent a lot of quality time over the next 3 days adding to the human compost of the jungle.
When we arrived at the picturesque resort nestled on the shore of Añangu lagoon, we were greeted by the manager of the hotel, the bartender with welcoming drinks on a tray, and a bank of Wheel of Fortune slot machines (their dream came true!).
The resort consists of 10 native-style cabanas, a large dining hall, and a 50 foot observation tower. I could hardly contain my excitement as I ran up the cozy footpath to the main building. After years of anticipation, I knew this would be a moment to savor. I leaped up the steps and entered a place that, up to that point, had only seemed to exist in my imagination. Breathlessly, I tried to communicate my eagerness to one of the workers who clearly did not speak much English at all. After some moments of confusion, he finally understood and pointed to a corner of the dining hall.
And there it was.
Or...wasn't.
I found just one lousy bookshelf sparsely filled with less than 20 used books. I don't know where the hell Amazon keeps that huge inventory, but it certainly isn't at the Napo Wildlife Center.
Wednesday, April 01, 2009
Travel Blog '09 -- Part 3 -- Quito continued
**This is an ongoing series recapping my last vacation. Any similarities to blogs living or dead is purely coincidental.**
Where did we leave off? Oh, that's right, we had just been scammed by the Mustard Thieves™. So, after that fiasco, we did what any American tourist would do. We ate at McDonalds. Yes, nothing like the golden arches to renew your faith in humanity.
On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at an outdoor store where I bought a new backpack, headlamp, and beanie. When we arrived back at our hotel, Los Alpes (which probably means The Adirondacks in Spanish), I tried to explain to the lady behind the desk that my backpack was stolen and our hotel key along with it.
She didn't seem concerned. She just said "no problem" and had the maid open our door. We were paranoid and figured with our luck the Mustard Thieves™ would deduce where our hotel was by the colorful knit flower that was attached to the key and ransack our room while we were gone. So we hid our bags in the safety deposit box that most people refer to as "the closet".
As we walked to our 2pm equator tour pick up, we discussed how we were obviously walking targets in Quito so we devised a brilliant plan of deterrence. From here on out during the trip, we were now Canadians! Everyone knows Canadians don't get ripped off. Only dumb Americans do. We rehearsed our plan: We were from Calgary, Alberta where Dolphin Trainer™ worked at a zoo (very imaginative, there DT™) and I worked as a security guard at a strip mall. Take that you criminals of South America! If only we had arrived in Ecuador with such a security plan already in place!
Our first guide of the trip picked us up outside a tour company office. I couldn't tell you the name, so let's just go with Adirondack Tours (which is Los Alpes Giras in Spanish if you're reading this blog for school credit). He was a very nice fellow whose name escapes me at the moment so let's just call him Our First Guide of the Trip™. He immediately tested our target-worthiness by asking where we were from. I said, "Alberta" at the same time Dolphin Trainer™ said, "Calgary".
Uh oh.
Technically correct, but I think he caught the uncertainty in our eyes. We would definitely have to step up our game if we were to avoid another mustard scenario.
He drove us to the Inti Nan Solar Museum which is supposedly located (unlike the big Equator monument a mere 250 meters to the south) on the actual GPS-confirmed equator. I say supposedly because I read one guy on the internet who disagrees. That's good enough for my skepticism. (By the way, 250 meters is 250 feet for those of you unfamiliar with the metric system or the type of internet research I engage in).
Anyway, at the Inti Nan Solar Museum, for only $3 you can shoot poison darts, marvel at a shriveled human head, salivate over deliciously alive guinea pigs, balance an egg on a nail, wonder if the fellow tourist from "Las Vegas" is some plant assigned to your tour group specifically to break you of your deep cover, and finally, watch a "demonstration" of the Coriolis Effect with leaves and a tub of water like this.
If you watch that short video, you'll see the crowd be convinced that water flow changes drastically within a few feet around the equator. I, however, live in the age of science and I have discovered through my research that these museum guides are nothing more than practitioners of black magic who manipulate the laws of physics with evil spells and incantations. Do not be fooled by them!
After the equator museum, Our First Guide of the Trip™ drove us to the Pululahua Crater which was given to Ecuador as a gift from the Hawaiian islands back in 1825. It was nice and swell which means I really have nothing to say about it.
Our First Guide of the Trip™ eventually dropped us off at a Tatoo adventure gear store where I bought a light jacket. This is noteworthy only for what happened when we entered. As we walked toward the back of the store we were stopped by a man who pointed at our backpacks and then at some lock boxes near the front. OK, I'd seen those before, so we handed over our backpacks and went on shopping. And guess what? IT HAPPENED AGAIN! That's right, this time *both* our backpacks got swiped! Unbelievable.
Wouldn't that suck? Ha, ha! April Fools! However, in retrospect, I must admit that the guy wasn't that official looking and he did have to track us down to give us the key for the locker. So overall I'd say that less than 6 hours after being robbed we weren't too much the wiser for it.
The day ended in an authentic Ecuadorian restaurant with Dolphin Trainer™ eating some kind of disgusting-looking soup while I had some kind of chicken on my plate that was possibly a guinea pig. Or a shriveled human head. Either way, it was fairly tasty.
Where did we leave off? Oh, that's right, we had just been scammed by the Mustard Thieves™. So, after that fiasco, we did what any American tourist would do. We ate at McDonalds. Yes, nothing like the golden arches to renew your faith in humanity.
On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at an outdoor store where I bought a new backpack, headlamp, and beanie. When we arrived back at our hotel, Los Alpes (which probably means The Adirondacks in Spanish), I tried to explain to the lady behind the desk that my backpack was stolen and our hotel key along with it.
She didn't seem concerned. She just said "no problem" and had the maid open our door. We were paranoid and figured with our luck the Mustard Thieves™ would deduce where our hotel was by the colorful knit flower that was attached to the key and ransack our room while we were gone. So we hid our bags in the safety deposit box that most people refer to as "the closet".
As we walked to our 2pm equator tour pick up, we discussed how we were obviously walking targets in Quito so we devised a brilliant plan of deterrence. From here on out during the trip, we were now Canadians! Everyone knows Canadians don't get ripped off. Only dumb Americans do. We rehearsed our plan: We were from Calgary, Alberta where Dolphin Trainer™ worked at a zoo (very imaginative, there DT™) and I worked as a security guard at a strip mall. Take that you criminals of South America! If only we had arrived in Ecuador with such a security plan already in place!
Our first guide of the trip picked us up outside a tour company office. I couldn't tell you the name, so let's just go with Adirondack Tours (which is Los Alpes Giras in Spanish if you're reading this blog for school credit). He was a very nice fellow whose name escapes me at the moment so let's just call him Our First Guide of the Trip™. He immediately tested our target-worthiness by asking where we were from. I said, "Alberta" at the same time Dolphin Trainer™ said, "Calgary".
Uh oh.
Technically correct, but I think he caught the uncertainty in our eyes. We would definitely have to step up our game if we were to avoid another mustard scenario.
He drove us to the Inti Nan Solar Museum which is supposedly located (unlike the big Equator monument a mere 250 meters to the south) on the actual GPS-confirmed equator. I say supposedly because I read one guy on the internet who disagrees. That's good enough for my skepticism. (By the way, 250 meters is 250 feet for those of you unfamiliar with the metric system or the type of internet research I engage in).
Anyway, at the Inti Nan Solar Museum, for only $3 you can shoot poison darts, marvel at a shriveled human head, salivate over deliciously alive guinea pigs, balance an egg on a nail, wonder if the fellow tourist from "Las Vegas" is some plant assigned to your tour group specifically to break you of your deep cover, and finally, watch a "demonstration" of the Coriolis Effect with leaves and a tub of water like this.
If you watch that short video, you'll see the crowd be convinced that water flow changes drastically within a few feet around the equator. I, however, live in the age of science and I have discovered through my research that these museum guides are nothing more than practitioners of black magic who manipulate the laws of physics with evil spells and incantations. Do not be fooled by them!
After the equator museum, Our First Guide of the Trip™ drove us to the Pululahua Crater which was given to Ecuador as a gift from the Hawaiian islands back in 1825. It was nice and swell which means I really have nothing to say about it.
Our First Guide of the Trip™ eventually dropped us off at a Tatoo adventure gear store where I bought a light jacket. This is noteworthy only for what happened when we entered. As we walked toward the back of the store we were stopped by a man who pointed at our backpacks and then at some lock boxes near the front. OK, I'd seen those before, so we handed over our backpacks and went on shopping. And guess what? IT HAPPENED AGAIN! That's right, this time *both* our backpacks got swiped! Unbelievable.
Wouldn't that suck? Ha, ha! April Fools! However, in retrospect, I must admit that the guy wasn't that official looking and he did have to track us down to give us the key for the locker. So overall I'd say that less than 6 hours after being robbed we weren't too much the wiser for it.
The day ended in an authentic Ecuadorian restaurant with Dolphin Trainer™ eating some kind of disgusting-looking soup while I had some kind of chicken on my plate that was possibly a guinea pig. Or a shriveled human head. Either way, it was fairly tasty.
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