Galapagos men are bloody everywhere in Galapagos.
You might roll your eyes, but when I say Galapagos men I mean Galapagos men.
Ones like the fine 50-year-old specimen who wandered up to me as I sat at this very Wifi hotspot, overlooking the boats and sea lions in our beautiful bay.
“Boyfriend?” he sleazed in Spanish.
“Yes,” I said, feeling repulsed.
But as Galapagos men specimens go, he was better than most.
At least he noticed my expression and didn’t persist.
With others, we are not so lucky.
Repulsive is probably the word for this entry.
If you are of a delicate disposition you probably shouldn’t read any further, because I’m about to detail a particularly fine example of Galapagos man persistence.
It occurred on Isabela island.
Thank goodness, it was Pippa who encountered this particular specimen.
“Do you have sex as well as you dance?” was his opening gambit, in English.
Pippa ignored him.
“Whose bed are you going home to tonight?” he persisted.
“Mine,” Pippa replied firmly.
“But don’t you want a Latin lover who can show you a good time on the beach?”
“Are you sure you’re going back to your bed alone?”
“Oh yeah. You and your fingers.”
That ladies, is a badly evolved strain of Galapagos man.
Poor Pippa met another specimen – different sub species – on her way out of the door.
“Where are you going?” he smiled suggestively.
“Home,” she snapped.
“I’m going that way too,” he replied before attempting to follow her up the street.
But perhaps these Lotharios should remember one thing.
Galapagos is very, very small.
While Pippa was fending off Fingers Man, she realised he looked familiar and suddenly remembered him sleazing at me in our local bar on San Cristobal.
He lives on our island.
She immediately told him she lived there too – mentioning the name of our family – and enjoyed watching the shock flash across Fingers’ sleazy little face.
He knew he’d overstepped the line – more explicit comments had followed – so he refused to tell Pippa his name.
I’m sure he can’t wait to bump into us again.