We've almost survived!

We have just two more bus journeys left in South America: tonight's overnight bus ride to Mancora in northern Peru and, in two days, an overnight bus to Lima. We've been reminiscing, trying to decide which bus ride has been the most dangerous over the past six months but there are too many. Too many nights spent clinging desperately to our chairs as the bus speeds around mountain roads, nothing but cliff below. Too many moments we've held our breath as the bus driver overtakes on a blind corner, unable to see what dangers lurk on the other side. Too many times we've stared into the headlights of an oncoming truck and thought 'this is it', before the driver zips back to the right side of the double yellow lines. Too many time we've wondered how someone so reckless behind the wheel can be given responsibility for the lives of 40 passengers.

In light of this, we've simply decided to rank the countries we've been to in order of risk - number one being the most dangerous country to take a bus, number six the least:

1. Columbia
2. Ecuador
3. Bolivia
4. Peru
5. Uruguay
6. Argentina

Surfs up!

The main street in Montanita

If you were a surfer, you'd never want to leave Montanita. It's a town on the Ecuadorian coast that grew up around a wave. Once a little fishing village, now a bustling beach resort with hostels made from bamboo, hammocks, juice bars, and pancakes.

Today, Montanita feels like a good little place to kick back for a couple of days. It's amazing the difference the sun makes. Yesterday the sky was grey, the wind was cold and the beach looked far from inviting. The dirty-looking sand was scattered with litter and dogs roamed the shore, digging holes. But the waves were big and that's what Montanita is all about. It's the reason surfers come for a day and stay for a month.

Montanita's beach

Tourist hell

We're waiting for our plane and eavesdropping to pass the time. The airport is full of people from large tour groups - some are getting ready to head on a Galapagos cruise, others are heading home. It's steaming hot and the airport here is like a large shelter, with park benches and a handful of overpriced and extremely tacky shops.

An older American couple has sat down next to us. They're talking to an Australian couple on the bench opposite. The Australian couple are on a three month trip, thanks to the husband's long service leave. The American couple have been living in Quito for two years and, by their own admission, speak only survival Spanish. They are in Quito helping to coordinate work teams for their church. Figures. They're complaining because, as of today, the Ecuadorian Government has stopped fuel subsidies for ships in the Galapagos that use more than 4000 tonnes of fuel each week. The cost has been transferred to the people who choose these boats instead of smaller vessels like the one we were on. It means they have had to pay an extra $100, and so they should.

Their boat sleeps about 90 people. Ours slept 16. Theirs will be first class, no doubt. Hot water, bars, and every other amenity we didn't have ... I am getting annoyed. I can't believe their complaining. Waz calls them 'shotgun tourists' and he's right. These cruise boats should be banned in the Galapagos and so should these people. Never become one. Support the local captains and the local crew. Ours cared deeply about the environment, taking care to leave as small an environmental footprint as possible.

I decided to head to the cafeteria to get a drink and get away from them. Another two Americans in the line before me tell the guy behind the counter that they want two cokes. No please, no thank you, no Spanish. He turns to get the cokes and they walk away. Perhaps they think it's table service, who knows. When he returns to the counter and sees that they've gone, he looks perplexed. I point to the table where they are sitting. He shakes his head and asks what I would like. Una coke por favor, I say. He smiles and hands me one of the cokes in his hands. I pay and we laugh. Get me out of this tourist hell.

A lesson in conservation by Luis the taxi driver

Luis is driving us to the airport in a big hilux. He's in his 20s, wears aviator glasses, and is dressed smartly in a coloured shirt and khaki pants. He loves Columbian salsa, supports Barcelona in the football, and seems to know everyone and everything that happens in the Galapagos.

We're driving down a long straight road that cuts through the middle of island, from Puerto Ayora to the airport. He's driving slowly and beeping constantly at the Darwin finches on the road in front of him. We ask him why. Conservation, he says. There's a police checkpoint at the start of the road and one at the end to monitor your speed. Get to the checkpoint too earlier and you're in trouble. Hit a finch, you get an $850 fine. Hit an iguana, you get a $6500 fine. Hit a turtle, you get 15 years in jail. Hit a cat or a rabbit and no-one in the Galapagos cares. They're pests that eat the iguanas. In fact, the Police can often be spotted hovering in a helicopter, shotguns poised and ready to shoot should a cat or rabbit show itself.

I've got my sea legs but they're no use to me now

If I stand still long enough, the world sways gently. If I close my eyes, I could be back on the deck of the Yolita with the turquoise sea stretching for miles in every direction. But I'm not. Our tour of the Galapagos is over and I am back on dry land. We've got one more night in the main town, Puerto Ayora. Tomorrow I fly to Guayquil to be reunited with Don Carlos, and Waz heads to Quito then onto Caracas. It's been emotional, and I am not sure who I'll miss more: the sea lions or my brother. Check out all of our photos from the Galapagos and you'll see why. Click here

The end is nigh ...

Volcanoes dot the landscape

There's no escaping Van Damme in South America. It's on downstairs in the main cabin of the boat, so I figured its a good time to head upstairs. Plus it's well past my Galapagos bedtime - its hard to stay up past 8:30 out here when you spend most of the day in the sun. Even an afternoon nap doesn't help, although it is essential for getting through the day.

We started early again today to beat the crowds to the top of volcano on Isla Bartolome. This is Frankie's favourite island and it's easy to see why. From the top, you get the most amazing views in every direction. A beautiful reef hugs the beach below, offering another chance to snorkel with sea lions, penguins, sharks and sea turtles.

You have to watch your step with these little buggers - they blend into the volcanic rock

This afternoon we lumbered to North Seymor, our final destination and mangroves teeming with more turtles. As the sun went down on our final night, we enjoyed a cervesa and plotted ways in which we could stay on board. To no avail.

Beware the crazy penguin

A crazy Galapagos penguin

My bird phobia extends to penguins, and Warwick has video proof. In my defense though, these little Galapagos penguins are not afraid of humans. They were well within pecking distance, and you could tell they were thinking about going on the offensive, weighing up the pros and cons of taking on an animal 20 times their size. They have to be the most inquisitive animals we've come across so far on the Galapagos. And we've come across a lot an animals.

In one afternoon, we've ticked off penguins, octopus, eels, oyster catcher birds, and nesting pelicans. I couldn't even begin to count the number and type of fish we've seen. All this on top of hundreds of sea lions, iguanas, crabs and boobies (the feathered kind, of course). We've moved north where the island terrain is pure volcanic. It's a dramatic setting and just as beautiful as the south, with its white sandy beaches and green foliage.

Hello, Mr Iguana

Frankie goes to Hollywood

Our guide Frankie is on a bender. We left him at a bar in Puerto Ayora at one o'clock this morning and when he met us at the dock at 7am, cloaked in dark glasses and exposed chest hair, he clearly hadn't slept. His tour to the Charles Darwin Research Station, home of the most famous Galapagos giant turtle Lonesome George, was his most inspired yet - "These are very interesting facts," he told us pointing to the information boards, "read them". Then he toddled off for another breakfast beer, leaving us to read about the conservation efforts that have protected the Galapagos animals for years.

The Charles Darwin Research Station is very impressive. Thousands of tiny tortoises have been repatriated to their home islands from the station' s baby tortoise house, and at least one subspecies of iguana and tortoise has been brought back from the brink of extinction thanks to its successful protection and breeding programme. Despite their best attempts, however, the future looks bleak for Lonesome George.

Lonesome George's butt

George is the only surviving member of the Isla Pinta subspecies. Attempts to find a mate for George have so far failed. He takes no interest in the two females tortoises who share his enclosure, and who can blame him. He's more than 80 years old and they're only distant relations, not his own species. Perhaps he doesn't realise that his species depends on it, or perhaps he doesn't care. He's not alone.

Frankie doesn't care, at least not today. He went in search of ceviche as soon as he could get away. He emerged again at 2pm for our visit to El Chato Tortoise Reserve. This time, however, he brought his "wife" and palmed us off to one of the workers before settling in for afternoon beers. The reserve itself is pretty self explanatory. It's a chance to see a giant tortoise in the wild. The biggest one there weighs about 200 kilograms and could be found happily chomping away on guava and passionfruit.

A big bugger

We're moving out ...

We've decided we can't live in this little wooden box in the bottom of the boat any longer and have negotiated an upgrade with Frankie for the final three nights of our journey. Waz has taken up this task wholeheartedly, inspecting the other cabins and comparing the positives against the negatives. His method is sure to yield results. My contribution, I have to admit, is minimal but I'm finding it hard to get motivated.

A lagoon flamingo

This morning, before breakfast, we visited Floreana to see the lagoon flamingos and the nesting sea turtles. An hour or so later, we were snorkeling the 'Devil's Crown', a rocky outpost just off the coast of Our timetable each day makes me weary. Floreana which is blessed with sparkling clear water, coral and a host of watery friends, including our very first white tip shark.

Waz hangs out with some sea lions

This afternoon, we are rocking our way to Santa Cruz. The boat is lurching from side to side on the open sea, making another bout of seasickness imminent and an afternoon nap unavoidable. By my calculations, I've got enough energy left to find a cool shady spot to sleep. Anything more taxing would finish me.

Galapagos trip: day three

A big male sea lion lets us know who's the boss on this beach

We're settling into life on the boat: early starts, afternoon naps, early bedtimes, wet landings, dry landings. If I'm honest, it's exhausting stuff. The sun here is hot, and the swimming and snorkeling wears you out quickly. It's a tough life ... really it is.

This is the final voyage of the Yolita. After 30 years on the high seas, the boat will be retiring, replaced by a newer and better model. Things are a little worse for wear on board. Our windows don't shut properly, which is not good when you're below deck. There's a slight leak from one of them above my bed and a steady stream of spray into the bathroom. At night, our cabin is like a little sauna. And the engine fumes do not mix well with the open sea.

Sante Fe Land Iguana

Last night, we were travelling to Isla Espanola, one of the most southerly in the Galapagos archipelago. It was a long trip - about five hours - in our small rocky boat, so I went down to our cabin to lie down. But the fumes, the heat and the lurching of the boat got the better of me. Within seconds, I was back on the deck puking over the side of the boat. Thankfully, the wind drowned out the sound and the sea washed away any evidence I may or may not have left on the boat.

Really, it was only a minor hiccup at the end of a fantastic day. We've already been lucky enough to see the Santa Fe Land Iguana, found nowhere else in the world. In fact, our wildlife tally is looking pretty good:

• swimming with sea lions
• swimming alongside giant sea turtles
• hundreds of marine and land iguanas, and a couple of hybrids
• the dance of the blue footed boobies
• the waved albatross, the only colony in the world, during breeding season (even saw one of their eggs)
• the Nazca or masked boobies
• mockingbirds
• Galapagos eagle
• crabs
• a pod of dolphins swimming alongside a nearby boat
  

You name it, we've seen it. And it's only day three. We're now anchored just off Isla Santa Maria (also known as Floreana), the sixth largest island in the Galapagos with about 100 human inhabitants. We're heading there tomorrow morning at 6:30am, so it's time to hit the hay.

Blue-footed boobie