Just what you need after a hard days mule ride

Hi Blog

So its been a while since the last post, we have been busy this week moving to some new digs to the north. We are now staying in a self catered flat more to style of living to which we are accustomed. I´ll miss having someone to do my washing and cooking but independence is a sweet dish. We share the new house with 7 others, who are mostly travellers staying for a few months. Its a nice big house with a sunny roof area.

Last week we splashed out on a fancy dinner in town at a restaurante called Mama Clorindas. The famous local dish served here is deep fried cuy (known elsewhere as guinea pig) and after I realised no one else would order it, I stepped up. It came on a plate in sections complete with stubby little legs and a whole deep fied head. He was a bit scrawny and I had a mission to chew through the bones but he made for quite a delectible treat. I didn´t chew the ears off the head though, that seemed to be taking it a bit far.

We got a reasonably fine day last week and took the opportunity with Tessa´s housemate Douglas, to scoot up the teleferico (gondola) which climbs Volcan Pichincha to overlook Quito. It was a pretty cruisy trip topped off with a few sneak glimpses of some of the surrounding volcanoes.

On the weekend we headed out with Tessa´s host mum to her home town of Chantel. Chantel is a tiny wee town located about 3 hours north west of Quito. We had little idea of what we would be doing, all we knew was that we needed gumboots. The road out passes through a highland forest park and several rural towns on a sketchy gravel road. We pulled into a farm, chucked on our gummies and piled onto the back of a tractor-trailer. We soon found ourselves trekking down through the forest towards a set of waterfalls that had carved a cave into the earth. As we walked, we discovered Rosa´s bushman side as she pointed out local flora and its medicinal uses. We descended cane ladders down the waterfalls to find nests of Tuyo birds peering at us.

After returning from the caves we piled back into the Jeep and completed our journey to Chantel. We were told that we would spend the night in some cabañas that belong to Rosa´s friend. We met up with our hosts and had started the arduous walk up the hill when we were ushered towards a pack of mules tied to the fence. It seemed that this would be no ordinary trip. As we mounted the wooden saddles of our mules we were wondering how it is one actually controls a mule. The trip took about two hours for which our asses (no OUR asses not the animals) were not appreciative. It began to rain about 30 minutes into the trip and we got soaked. The cabañas were located overlooking a smallish river and waterfall in the forest and miles from any other civilisation, a very tranquil spot.

The evening was passed in true ecuadorian style with a huge dinner of soup, meat and rice and finished up with cane alcohol. While a local played ecuadorian folk songs on the guitar, our host attempted to teach us a dance from Otavalo, which I think was quite funny for everyone who was watching. We were the only non ecuadorians at the cabaña which made me realise that this would probably be one of the least touristy experiences of our trip.

The next day, after a hearty breakfast of smoked cachama (river fish), we mounted our trusty mules for another foray into the forest. It turns out the mules have done the trip so many times that they know (or think they know) where they are going. There were a few instances where the mules decided that they knew best and we discovered the true meaning of the saying about stubborn mules.

Our trip took us to another much larger waterfall which was truly magnificent. We scaled down a rope for a closer look and some cheesy photos. After we returned to the cabañas we went for a dip in the river and climbed under the small waterfall for a natural massage to ease our aching, mule inflicted bones. Theres nothing quite like being pummelled by litres of water to wear away the worries of the day.

At the moment we are trying to decide where the next part of our trip will take us. There are a few options on the table but as always it comes down to how much we are able to spend this early in the trip. Anyway I´ll let you know what we decide to do as it happens.

Lets NOT Stop and Admire the View

On Saturday we joined a hike organised by the school to the volcanic crater lake of Quilotoa. We got up pretty early to wait outside the school on a rainy, grey morning. I copped a few jests as I was sporting my purple stripey long johns instead of the in-vogue zipoff pants. Our ride to Quilotoa was a school bus that was branching out for the weekend. As the clouds clung to the hills and the stereo provided soothing/annoying "pan pipe classic hits", we wound our way out of the city, detouring around the massive sinkhole that has appeared in the middle of Quito´s southern highway.

The weather started to lift as we got closer to our destination and those of us who were still awake were treated to some amazing views of the rolling highlands patched with fields and dotted with shelters made of straw. Perhaps all these shelters should have given us an indication of what was to come...

We arrived at the small township of Quilotoa as a few locals stopped to stare. The township is located on a plateau above the crater and a short walk from the carpark provided us with a stunning view of the eerie green lake sunken into the landscape. Those of us who were keen, set about the walk that circumnavigates the lake along the high ridges. After a short while the sun came out and the weather was perfect.

As we neared the half way mark an ominous dark grey cloud began to accumulate on the far side of the lake. Soon enough we found ourselves walking straight into an electrical storm complete with rain, thunder and sheet lightning.

We were prepared for rain of course but as we walked along one of the higher ridges, we were all struck by a flash of sheet lightening! The first strike was like a small pat on the head, but the second strike was like simultaneously grabbing an electric fence with your hand, foot and head. Tessa saw an arc from her foot to the ground which lit up like a lightbulb. I hit the ground for fear of another stronger strike and after making sure everyone was still alive, we dashed frantically for lower ground. We spent the next hour nervously rushing over any remotely high ground.

Our next life threatening challenge (Mum maybe you shouldn´t read this blog) was when we discovered that parts of the track had been washed away by the persistent rain of the last few weeks. Our guide was quite cavalier and charged ahead over tenuous soft earth precariously perched 400m above the lake edge below.

Along this precarious, life threatening route we passed a local on his way home after the Saturday markets in the town. He was carrying a 40kg sack of produce on his back and was quite obviously well boozed, stumbling along the track and slurring incomprehensible spanish. As market day is pay day for the locals, many of them head to the pub afterwards and get on the turps, literally as the spirits they drink are around 80%!

We made it safely back to the township tired and incredibly wet and headed straight for the nearby hostel for some hot drinks. Once we had recounted our story to the others and recovered mentally, we piled back in the van for the four hour drive home complete with mexican reggae music.

"Ok ok but this really is my final offer"

After spending the last couple of weeks couped up in the city we thought we ought to venture out and see some more of Ecuador. On Friday afternoon we hopped on a bus to Otavalo, a medium sized town about 2 hours from Quito. We had the sincere displeasure of watching Van-Damme´s "Inferno" dubbed over in spanish on the bus. I can honestly say that it is one of the worst movies I have seen in any language.

Otavalo is famous for it´s artesanal markets where locals flog a colourful range of goods, handmade and otherwise, to a circling gaggle of tourists. I was dubious as to how good it would be. We piled out of bed on the Saturday morning and decided we would do a quick scout of the market only to find that it spread across the streets of a dozen city blocks. I was the first to be targeted for sale as I was quite keen to get a genuine ecuadorian panama hat. The guy in the stall spotted me a mile off and beckoned me over. After some sharp haggling on my part (I still want to believe I paid a fair price) I joined the throngs of dumb gringos wearing new hats.

The market was full of beautiful things, colourful people and raucous sounds. The handmade crafts, particularly the fabrics, were amazing. Tessa picked up a nice bag from the joker in the photo and also a scarf. We ventured into the fruit and meat part of the market where the locals of Otavalo did their shopping for the week. There were crowds of local indigenous people mostly wearing traditional dress and going about their business.

After cruising the markets we stopped for a well deserved almuerzo (a giant and very cheap lunch special) and went for a walk out of town to Parque Condor. On the way we walked through the open coutryside and got fantastic views of the city and surrounding mountains and lakes as well as walking past people working in fields. It was refeshing to be out of the city and we started to feel as though we were seeing a very different side of Ecuador.

The Parque Condor is a sort of zoo for endagered birds of prey that have been injured or are unable to live in the wild. It was a bit sad to see these graceful birds kept behind fences but apparently they try to rehabilitate them and release them back into the wild. The highlight was definately the condors that seemed to be strutting about their enclosure for the cameras. They would really freak you out if you were afraid of birds...

On Sunday we met up with Markus and Jane, a couple of other students from our school and went for a hike up Mount Fue Fue, just out of Otavalo. Mt Fue Fue is about 4200m above sea level and the altitude (and maybe lack of fitness) made it really hard work. Our guide was an american who had married a local Otavaleño and had moved back about 10 years ago. We had some good yarns with him on the way up while we stopped to catch our breath. From the top we had some sweet views of the nearby Mojanda Lakes despite the ever present clouds.

We´re back in Quito now and back to the reality of everyday classes. We are already planning our next trip out of town for this weekend!

And You Thought That You Lived in Middle Earth....

Ok so on Sunday we did, by far the most toursitastic thing yet. We journeyed, with Erica, a housemate of Tessa´s, to the centre of the earth. i.e the cenotaph marking the line of the equator. We took a bus which passed through the outskirts of Quito which seemed like some sort of inhabited wasteland of scrub and concrete. The official monument marking the line of the equator is actually a different place altogether. Surrounding the monument is a small noddy-like town of overpriced arts and crafts, overpriced cafés and restaurants, and overpriced museums. We took the obligatory photo on the line and had a wee look around.

For lunch we fronted up to a one of the cheaper looking cafés. Erica was keen to try an ecuadorian specialty called cuy, which is more commonly known as barbequed guinea pig. Unfortunately the restaurant was all out of the popular dish and we settled for dried goat instead (we really need to learn the spanish names for food!). After lunch we checked out some local dancers in the central square.

Our guidebook recommended a museum which is located down the road from the main facility on the actual equator (proved recently by GPS). The museum included remarkably unscientific experiments to prove the strange forces of the equator. Apparently its easier to balance an egg on the head of a nail there as the gravity falls straight down (I think this means that in antarctica everything falls sideways). Also it seems water really does go down the sink the other way either side of the equator!

On Tuesday we braved the rain and a steep hill to check out the Guayasamin museum. Guayasamin was a local artist who championed the plight of indigenous people through very dark and powerful paintings. The museum included some of his amazing and moving works as well as his collection of pre colombian artefacts and colonial art (i.e more crucified Jesus's than you can shake a crown of thorns at)

Spanish continues to be a struggle but we seem to making some sort of progress. Who would´ve thought learning a language would be so difficult??