The Galápagos sun beats down as a symphony of squawks surrounds me, an avian uproar that makes the landscape feel straight out of the set of Hitchcock’s The Birds. I snap a few photos of the chick, likely only a few weeks old, and slowly stand up.

A flash of red in the bushes to my left pulls my attention. About three metres away, a male frigatebird inflates his brilliant throat pouch to impress one of the hundreds of females circling above. I pivot my lens to capture the display, only to spot another frigatebird, even closer than the first. Once again, I am probably too close to the wildlife.

I shuffle back again. At least two metres, I repeat. I glance around, checking where the rest of my group is looking. No one appears to be watching me, but I know the Galápagos guides are always aware.

I’m standing in the centre of Genovesa Island, located in the northeastern region of the Galapagos Archipelago. Renowned for its wealth of flora and fauna, this island is unlike any other place I have ever visited. But it’s not just Genovesa — every Galapágos location I have encountered during my first four days with Metropolitan Touring has been remarkable. Spotting blue-footed boobies, snorkelling with sea lions and observing giant tortoises in their natural habitat — each is an overwhelming experience in its own right. The islands are full of wonders, but I am quickly learning that the people who guide us through them, with their knowledge and commitment, are an essential ingredient that makes this corner of the world so magical.

Ballesteros began guiding 16 years ago after studying biology and economics in college. Born and raised in the Galápagos, he’s witnessed the islands evolve over the decades, for better and worse. But compared to his childhood, he says he can see tangible improvements in how the environment is cared for. Much of that, he believes, is thanks to companies like Metropolitan Touring, which has been instrumental in promoting conservation and environmental responsibility across the archipelago. From supporting local education programs and scientific research to implementing strict waste management protocols and pioneering carbon neutrality initiatives aboard its vessels, the company has worked to ensure that tourism in the Galapagos is regenerative rather than extractive. As with many places around the world, the goal here is to protect the fragile ecosystems that make the Galápagos so extraordinary, and to empower communities to be active stewards of their home. 

“All Galapagians have a better comprehension of conservation,” says Ballesteros. “Conservation is a big thing, and it’s not that it wasn’t important that long ago, but now it’s much better handled. Even the recycling part.”

Millions of years ago, a series of volcanic eruptions spewed from beneath the ocean, creating the unique landscape with a view of the island’s iconic Pinnacle Rock. However, to reach the summit, visitors must first climb a wooden staircase made from Cuban cedar trees. 

We’re all covered in sweat, despite our plan to leave earlier in the morning to avoid the blazing sun. The staircase to the peak is only 600 metres long, but with little shade to shield us, it’s no walk in the park. Built by the Galápagos National Park Service to prevent erosion on the fragile volcanic terrain, the boardwalk is a physical challenge and a symbolic line: one that guides like Ballesteros will not cross.

Halfway up the trail, he spots a piece of plastic a few feet off the path. Most guides in other parts of the world might instinctively pick it up, but Ballesteros doesn’t move. Instead, he pulls out his phone, snaps a picture, and calmly informs us that he’ll alert the rangers later.

“The guide and rangers, we are all one team,” he explains. “We look for everything that is fine with nature. We talk about what we need to fight for.” In the Galápagos, even the smallest gesture, like stepping off-trail, has meaning. “We need to be careful with our actions in front of guests.”

Standing on a lookout platform, watching lava lizards skitter across the wood, Ballesteros tells us a cautionary tale: a guide once stepped in to help a sea lion in distress. “He had good intentions, but was bitten.” The incident was caught on camera, uploaded to the internet, and distorted by online audiences.

The Galapagos welcome around 270,000 visitors annually, and that tourism sustains the local community. It only makes sense that those who call the archipelago home work tirelessly to safeguard it as a world-class destination. Guides are considered ambassadors; their training is rooted in science and biology. They follow strict routes and rules to ensure that the flora and fauna remain undisturbed. 

Founded in 1959, the Charles Darwin Research Station is operated by the Charles Darwin Foundation, an international non-profit committed to preserving the Galapagos through science and conservation. Located on Santa Cruz Island, the station invites visitors to learn about the archipelago’s fragile ecosystem, ongoing research, breeding programs, and, of course, the island’s iconic giant tortoises. Farías notes that beyond the abundance of wildlife and otherworldly landscapes of the Galapagos, the station itself has become a draw for tourists.

As we wander past corrals of baby tortoises small enough to fit in a human hand, we pause to read about the work being done to protect each subspecies. In the Exhibit Hall, turtle and tortoise shells are displayed alongside the skeletons of whales, porpoises, birds and mammals, each a quiet reminder of the balance that conservation seeks to maintain.

It’s during my visit to the station that I realize how deeply conservation is woven into every corner of the Galapagos. The beauty of the islands is undeniable, but it’s the collective passion and dedication of the people that have shaped and safeguarded this place.