The return of the itchy feet
Trip Start
Oct 01, 2007
1
2
19
Trip End
Oct 23, 2007
Quito,
Ecuador
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Despite my constant travels, I hate flying. Iīm not scared of it, I just get bored after Iīve watched my first movie and start feeling claustrophobic. So by the time I arrived in Quito, about 18 hours after Iīd left home, I was shattered, but glad to be out of the metal box
3 monkeys - Angela, Marta and Louise
. Espcially since the last flight had involved 2 guys behind me singing very loudly and out of tune.As soon as I arrived, all my anxities disappeared and were replaced with as much excitement as I could muster after being awake for 26 hours. That was, until I encountered the wonder of the Ecuadorian taxi driver who pays absolutely no attention whatsoever to either red lights or white lines. Or pedestrians.
According to most people who had visitied Quito, the New Town was the place to be, but despite this I checked into the Secret Garden hostel in the Old Town, as it had reports of being the best hostel not only in Ecuador, but in South America. Quite a claim. I canīt verfiy that yet since itīs the only hostel in South America Iīve stayed in, but itīs pretty damn good so far.
Due to the altitude, I spent my first day feeling like I was suffering from some degenerative disease, struggling up and down the streets and interspersing a few church visits with some people watching. It seems small children, well, boys, urinate wherever they feel like it. In the middle of the central plaza this kidīs mum just took him behing my seat and pulled down his trousers
Jess and a rather drunk Alegra
. The security guards tried to intervene but it seems they donīt have much authority over the matter.The following day I caught an early bus headed for Tena, 5 hrs east of Quito, in an attempt to stay at a jungle lodge in the Amazon. My lack of ability to speak Spanish was proving to be a bit of a nusiance now, as I had to resort to sign language at the bus station and just hope I was headed in the right direction. Fortunately, I did understand when someone told me (or signed to me) that I was keep an eye on my bags and keep my wallet in my pocket. About 10 minutes later, on the outskirts of Quito, a few seconds after 3 men selling newspapers and soft drinks had hopped on and off the bus, some other tourists noticed they were missing a couple of bags. The man next to me tried to engage me in conversation about the theft - I just nodded and shook my head where it seemed appropriate.
Halfway towards Tena we encoutered a very dodgy looking bridge, which was closed. It stayed closed for about an hour, and by the time we crossed I realised I wasnīt going to make the connecting bus I had to get from Tena to the next place. I pondered this for a moment and decided it would be pointless staying overnight in Tena so decided to cut my losses and return to Quito
Angela and Marta
. I tried to string a few words together to let the bus driver know what I wanted to do and he just kept asking: "porque?". I just resorted to the childish answer of: "because". So the bus dropped me off at the side of the road and I walked the 1km back to the last bus stop, getting some very strange looks from workmen at the side of the road. I got to the bus stop, which doubled as a police checkpoint, and was about to attempt to ask them what time the next bus to Quito was, when they started trying to ask me stuff. I just looked at them blankly and said I didnīt speak Spanish, and a few of them tried rephrasing the request in different ways, and then gave up and waved me past. Thankfully a bus to Quito pulled up 10 seconds later.However, said bus didnīt depart again for about another 30mins, as the police discovered one of the passengers was carrying not 1, but 3 guns. This seemed to cause a lot of commotion on the bus, but no one seemed too concerned when he was allowed back on, along with his merchandise.
I watched another bad action movie on the bus, dubbed in Spanish, which didnīt really matter as Iīve come to realise action movies donīt have a lot of script, so it doesnīt really matter what language itīs in.
I was a bit annoyed at my wasted day, and even more annoyed when it started pissing it down on the way back to Quito, but I was welcomed back at the hostel in time for the themed Ecuadorian night dinner, complete was traditional band, and then about 15 of us ventured out to some clubs in the New Town and had a damn good night. Distinct lack of chips and cheese on the way home but thatīs probably just as well.
