With my wheelchair perched on the deck of a boat taking us to Santa Cruz, I watch a giant marine turtle swimming in the crystal water just below my feet. Pelicans wheel overhead and sea lions lounge on buoys. But these are not the lush tropical isles I've been expecting. Though the Galapagos Islands are near the equator, 23 C in late October, prickly pear cacti on a volcanic landscape give the place a desert-like feel.
Tiny geckos scurry away from my wheels as I roll to a waiting minivan, where I am pushed up portable ramps — only to crunch my head on the ceiling.
As a quadriplegic, I need civilization, but it's the wilds that I really desire. Thankfully our guide, Pepe Lopez, is used to solving the problems faced by travelling "wheelies," and he quickly pops the tires off my Quickie wheelchair so I can get in the van. I soon forget about any bruises as we stop to marvel at a 400-pound tortoise crossing the road. I have arrived at one of Earth's last unique ecosystems: more than 13 islands, 1,000 kilometres from the coast of Ecuador.
At lunch, we meet the people who will push and pull me for the next six days in the Trail-Rider — essentially a two-wheeled off-road wheelchair — we brought from Ontario. Developed by the British Columbia Mobility Opportunities Society, founded by former Vancouver mayor Sam Sullivan to allow people with disabilities to gain access to the outdoors, it proves invaluable on the rough terrain of Santa Cruz and Isabela islands.
Because I cannot walk, we have decided to do a land-based tour rather than the usual boat cruise — which would necessitate climbing in and out of boats. Thanks to the TrailRider, I see flamingos, albatross, penguins, prehistoric marine iguanas, funny-looking sea lions galumphing across the sand, reef sharks and more tortoises than I've seen in a lifetime.
Arriving in Puerta Ayora, we are booked into a hotel that suits my purpose once the bathroom door is removed. For dinner, wahoo fish is cooked at our table on hot lava rocks. As we eat, we plan a kayak trip. I'm leery of the waves, but the next day, in the hands of a skilled kayaker, I glory in my new-found freedom. I am continually amazed at the brazenness of birds and animals. Tiny finches, whose different beaks on each island helped Darwin develop his theory of evolution, light on trees within inches of our heads.
Later, back in Lima, we prepare for one of the flights we will take to Puerto Maldonado in southeastern Peru. From there we take a three-hour boat ride up Rio Tambopata to stay at Refugio Amazonas Lodge in the Amazon rain forest. Guides carry my wheelchair up the slippery clay bank, onto a two-wheeled cart and then on to a supply cart, which is winched up the hill. After a meal of dorado in an open-air dining room, it's lights out at 9 p.m. Our bedroom is also open to the jungle, and under mosquito netting I listen as each new voice adds to the chorus of insect, bird and animal sounds.
The next morning, a 4:30 a.m. wake-up call by kerosene lamp (no electricity here) sets the pace for the next three days. I'm out in the TrailRider for hours at a time while my husband tries to keep up with the young men who push and pull me over the roots and deadfall on the forest floor. Although I am prevented from climbing a 35-metre canopy tower above the treetops, we spot wild capybaras, macaws and howler monkeys, and one night we see a sloth in the trees only 15 metres away.
