June 9, 2016
It’s just before 5 pm on a Thursday afternoon, and my friend and I are striding along the path towards Las Grietas. Behind us is the ferry dock; ahead of us is a sandy path that will eventually turn rocky.
For the first time in a year, I am wearing my swim suit. The last time I wore it, I was shooting down a water slide on a cruise ship in the Caribbean Sea. Today, I plan to get into the water at Las Grietas.
On our way, we pass the natural salt mine once more. The lighting is completely different in the late afternoon sun. Still, I can’t resist taking a close up of one of the salt pools.
Further on, as we’re crossing German Beach, we come upon a heron
and a pair of ducks.
Finally, after another 15 minutes or so, we’re climbing the familiar steps to Las Grietas. We’re hot and sweaty, and can’t wait to dive into the water.
“I’m sorry, but it’s closed” says the park ranger at the top of the Las Grietas ravine.
“What?” we gape at him.
“It closes at 5.”
Incredulous, we look at each other, then back at the ranger. The sun sets around 6:30 pm every day here in the Galapagos, and most beaches are open until at least 6 pm. It simply didn’t occur to us that Las Grietas would close before 6.
There’s no help for it; we’ll have to turn back. Before we do, though, we shoulder our way through a group of oblivious Americans to reach a scenic overlook. Las Grietas is there below us, temptingly empty in the early evening sunlight.
Sighing, we retrace our steps, the oblivious American horde hot on our trail. We pass a few people going the other way, and it doesn’t occur to either of us to tell them that Las Grietas is closed.
Fortunately, there’s a beach between us and the ferry docks. It’s Playa de las Alemanes, or the German Beach. Unlike our favorite rocky beach near the Charles Darwin Research station, this is a proper beach, with soft sand and a gently curving shoreline.
It’s fairly empty this late in the day. Half a dozen people are in the water, while the group of Americans finally overtake us and circle up further down the beach.
We find a comfy spot in the sand, and settle in for some writing time. I’m supposed to be writing postcards, but I keep looking up to watch the lava heron on a nearby mangrove branch.
When I’m not watching him, I’m sneaking peaks at a couple out in the water. They must be on their honeymoon; they are holding each other and kissing as if nothing exists in this moment except the two of them.
Our time at the beach goes a long way to assuaging our disappointment at not swimming at Las Grietas. We stay until dusk starts to fall, then quickly make our way back to the ferry docks.
We book our ferry tickets to Isla Isabela for tomorrow, then head home. Tomorrow will be the highlight of this trip: a two-hour ferry ride to the island of penguins and flamingos!
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