Galapageeks: Getting Into The Galapagroove 🤓

It’s 48hrs to lift-off, and De Mama and I are gearing up for our Galapagos adventure. The suitcases are rammed full with suitably geeky attire: head torches, zip-off pants and anti-sickness wristbands jostle for space amongst the hydration sachets, binoculars and hiking socks. We’ve taken the Scouts motto of BE PREPARED to new heights: this is ninja-level packing we’ve got going on here - right down to the underwear folded so small it’s practically an origami work of art (well, mine is - my pensioner mum’s pants could come in handy as an SOS/peace flag, should we get lost on a mountain). We’ve checked through the itinerary so many times I know the booking references by rote. I’m even on first-name terms with Bruce Poon Tip, the CEO and founder of G Adventures, who slid into my DMs a few weeks ago after I furiously fast-finger tweeted my frustration that his company had downgraded our booking to cheaper accommodation. Needless to say, we’re now back to the 5-star set-up we paid for, and my new mate Bruce is on the Christmas card list. 

All that’s left to do is write our wills, (those Ecuadorian jungles take no prisoners - well, we hope not anyway 😬), pop our blood-thinning pills and get our pasty white butts to Heathrow T5 for what is probably the riskiest leg of our volcano-climbing, island-hopping, eardrum-bursting high-altitude adventure holiday of all: attempting to use British Airways to get us to South America via Madrid during the school holidays amidst various stress-inducing strikes. (I know, ker-azy right - that’s an adrenaline sport in itself.) 

Could this be our first rookie error? Gawd help us 🙈. 

Anyway, get the coca leaf tea brewing - we’re on our wayyyyyy! 😜






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