Mildly moderated chaos

The best way to describe Ecuador’s social infrastructure is mildly moderated chaos. No prices are set, no hours adhered to, traffic “laws” are viewed as mere suggestions, and business licenses are a joke. Canoa is such a poor and small town that I could understand why no one cared but I started to get a clearer picture when I got a photocopied vehicle title to show police if I got stopped on the motorcycle in Banos. International driving license or insurance not required. Also completely legal in Banos is “bungee jumping” off a 100-meter bridge using a climbing rope and figure 8 belay device. (Climbing ropes have a small number of falls they are rated for and a Figure 8 belay device is great for smooth repelling but hardly has the lock off friction I’d want to stop me from a very long purposeful fall.)

It seemed like every other day in Cuenca was a reason for parades, bands, and street closures. “Its Saturday” seemed to hold just as much validity as Cuenca’s founding weekend – which lasted until Tuesday. It was the fireworks displays during these arbitrary parties forced a punk rock anarchist smile of affirmation across my face. Cuenca is a World Heritage site and one of the prettiest Colonial era cities in all of South America, yet no one minded as tissue paper hot air balloons, sparking spinners, and rockets were launched from the main city square by random citizens. As their burning embers fell back onto schools, businesses, and churches I started to realize why brick shingled roofs are still so popular.

Days later dancers in elaborate costumes covered the bridges of the city while spot- and strobe-lights swept across the crowd - everyone moving to the music of a band playing in a 4^th story window of the nearby apartment building. Soon the sky began lighting up and we realized that every major railing-support on the bridges had an arsenal of fireworks attached to it. The dancers moved away a bit but the crowd stayed – a couple thousand people packed inside a half km of the launch zone.

Coming from a place where millions can be made by spilling coffee on yourself and sidewalks have to be repaired before someone trips, its nice see a society that hasn’t been reduced to robotic answers and solving problems though flowcharts. There are benefits to first world culture – drinkable water certainly being one of them – but taking responsibility for our actions is underrated. Getting under a roof if lit fireworks are raining from the sky or stepping out of the way when a motorcycle rolls down the sidewalk is common sense, we don’t need legislation and litigation to do our thinking for us.

Moving on

I took the fastest, scariest bus of my life from Cuenca to Quito listening to the transmission fall apart and the right rear brakes make a hideous metal-on-metal sound all through the night. After 24 hours in Quito I walked to a city bus which took me to the trolley, the trolley took me to the bus station where I got a shuttle bus to another station, and boarded an extremely slow intercity bus bound for Toulcan. At Toulcan I took a taxi towards Colombia, walked through Ecuadorian customs, over the bridge, through Colombian customs, and hailed another taxi to the bus stop where I got a night bus which took 12 hours to make it 450km. 36 hours in Cali is about all that’s needed to walk around the tourist part of the city, dance some salsa, and scale the mountain to the Tres Cruises. A 3^rd night bus in 5 days landed me in Bogota where its been raining constantly, thunder storming intermittently, and cold.

Bridge Festival lighting up the sky.

Yes there's bunnies, chickens, and hamsters here, but think of it as more of grocery store than pet store...

Street art in Cuenca.

Breakdancers come out in force every Sunday in the main park. Here one practices headspins.

A slightly longwinded rumination

Cuenca is considered the cultural and educational capital of Ecuador, and with its numerous universities, upper class dining and shopping hotspots, and cobbled stone streets it’s easy to see why. Oddly though what struck me most during my time in Cuenca had nothing to do with the city at all.

How it started

I had come to Cuenca in part to see friends who were instrumental in my decision to travel. They had offered me a place to stay but I thought I’d get a hostel instead – hostels are cheap, a great place to meet people, and I’d be out of the way. When we met up though, Kent handed me a set of keys to my own 6^th floor apartment furnished in a hip, minimalist style with a beautiful view of the church outside. I put my bag down.

The next day I got a FB message from Manuela and Carmen (previous blog) who had also arrived in Cuenca. I went to their hostel to meet for dinner and saw Colm who was part of the “Yo no quiro agua” night during Carnival. Colm and another girl from the hostel, Victoria, joined our table while we waited for Zane, an Aussie riding his moto from Colorado whom I had met in Quito. After having dinner with Manuela and Carmen it was back to Colm who was hanging out with Sarah and her friends, some local girls he had met though CouchSurfers.

As the week progressed I saw with Damien and Grainne (recipients of shaving cream on Yo no Quiro Agua night) and met Cian, the forth Irish of their group. Meeting up with the crew a few nights later I was introduced to Shane who’s taken just about every mode of transportation available over the last 6 months to travel from San Francisco to a wedding in Ecuador. I went to get a drink at the bar and met Hattie and Fiona, two girls from England who had met a few days before and just arrived from Banos together. A night later when Damien invited us over for home cooked curry I met Michael who’s trying to travel around the world without using an airplane.

A day later after Shane, Hattie, Fiona, and I explored the local market I invited people to my apartment for dinner and to hang out. A few days after arriving in a completely foreign city I had 11 people crammed into an apartment cooking food, sharing stories, and giving travel suggestions.

Reflecting

This, to me, is what traveling is all about. I am in a foreign land, learning foreign languages, doing things that most of society considers outside the realm of normal behavior. I am alone, I am vulnerable, and I have nothing that doesn’t fit in a backpack. However, this kind of insecurity promotes a state of mind where I live in the moment – finding adventures, having new and unique experiences, and talking to anyone who will talk back.

Traveling also builds trust – when I was in Banos I stashed my bag with everything I own (including a laptop, camera, and travel journal) in two Germans’ room whom I had met 36 hours before. Anytime I needed something from it they handed me the key to their room and all of their belongings. Solo traveling is an experiment in self-sufficiency, but every time I extend trust to people my faith in humanity is reconfirmed. We come from all over the world with different backgrounds, different educations, and different experiences but somehow friendships are formed faster and stronger than at home where we have more similarities.

This is not to discount the strength of friendships at home - I couldn’t do what I am without the help and support of a network of great people in the States. I had a dream Friday night that reminded me of the incredible comfort and security that is found in a close relationship and it left me with a beautiful warm feeling well into the afternoon.

The cycle continues...

And as the original Cuenca group started trickling away new friends were made. Shane and I went to a museum with 5 British girls we had just met, hung out with Mel, he introduced me to Yara, the bride in the wedding he had travelled so far to see, I introduced him to Tara and her mom who I had met in Canoa, we shared some drinks with Shivonne, and Luke gave me keys to his place when I locked myself out of mine like an idiot.

There is a fairly defined Gringo Trail between Colombia and Bolivia and I’m guessing I’ll see at least some of those kids again before heading home. Even if I don’t though, they’ll be part of a formative life experience and memories I’ll never forget.

Dinner in the dope pad.

After Damien cooked awesome curry we met Lobo, a traveling native artisan. Unfortunately for him, we had finished the curry already.

Stuck in the lift.

I used my limited Spanish to steal this kid's bike for a minute.

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Now playing: The Gaslight Anthem - Great Expectations
via FoxyTunes

Aventura, Descanso, y Diversion - Disfrutalo!

Arriving in Baños

After leaving Canoa I made a quick stop in Quito to drop off a bag and enjoy the most delicious Hare Krishna lunch before heading to catch a bus bound for Baños. I had heard that Baños was a cool adventure town in the mountains of Ecuador but I had no idea how awesome it would be.

Canoa is a very poor town. There’s one paved road, chickens and dogs run the streets, and a lot of the street vendors push their carts because they are too poor to afford a bike chain. After living in that environment for a month I was quite surprised to be walking the streets of Baños and see dune buggies cruising the streets, kids on brakeless BMX bikes, and several-thousand dollar mountain bikes leaning against the wall in restaurants. The town is nestled in a river valley with a volcano towering above its streets and majestic waterfalls throughout the neighboring mountains. The name comes from the hot springs, or “baths,” along the edge of town.

The Bike Ride

Baños is a great place to meet people because everyone is about to go do something cool. The first night I ran into Manuela and Carmen, two Swiss girls I had met in Quito. We rented bikes Sunday morning and rode along the river checking out the numerous waterfalls along the way. After seeing about 6 waterfalls and rain starting to fall on us the girls hopped a bus and I started riding back. The sprinkling rain felt great so I explored a side road that wound up a valley. It was beautiful and green and secluded - just what I was looking for. I know I’m not in the kind of race shape I used to be, but the road was so steep I spent an hour and a half in the granny gear until three large dogs halted my progress. I rode back into town and returned the bike just as the rain picked up.

Getting lost

On Monday I rented a 250cc dirt bike for 3 hours and took off. First I tried to find a dirt road I had seen the day before but apparently it was private property w/ a gate and guards. I turned around and, crossing the bungee jump bridge, headed towards some radio antennas. The rental company had shown me a map and told me it should take 2 hours round trip but 25 minutes of wide open throttle and counter steered corners later I was parked at the top. I followed the road as it summited the mountain and entered an agricultural valley. Taking every side path possible, I splashed through puddles, reved out climbing jeep roads, and got lost in single track cow paths. I was completely alone in the back woods of the Andes. The bike wouldn’t shift into neutral if it was running and none of the gauges worked (including gas) but I figured that was just part of the adventure.

Hiking

There are a few miradors (lookouts) on the mountain that borders town so I decided to hike to them when I got back. The first and lowest of the lookouts is 698 concrete steps straight up. From there the path turns to dirt and climbs about another couple hundred meters of elevation to the Mirador del Volcan. The path winds along cliff sides, through tomato farms, and into back yards filled with chickens and laundry. The clouds broke just as I got to the top and offered a great view of the volcano while I was there. On the way down I took random paths, followed a few signs, and asked a little kid of about 8 for directions until I found the right trail.

The trail was so steep it was difficult to walk at times, yet there was a single Maxxis Holy Roller tire impression the whole way down. I couldn’t believe this awesome trail was just outside of town with the perfect road to shuttle and I couldn’t help but think maybe Mike W. should move to Baños. (Sorry to all the non cycling nerds, you probably don’t understand any of that.) The trail even finishes a block and a half from the hospital, how convenient is that?

A moto, a jeep, and a few crazy kids

Tuesday morning I went to find an Ecuadorian I had met the day before for a horse ride but instead rounded up a group of 6 people to rent a 4x4 Jeep and a moto. Our crew consisted of 2 Germans - Armin and Daniel - I met in the hostel, and 3 Brits I had met in Canoa - Mel, Vicky, and Jennie. We took a side road just outside town and after a short hike found a beautiful waterfall. A lot of the falls are commercialized with people and zip lines and vendors. This one involved hiking through an old man’s fish farm whom we asked for directions. After following a trail that was more an indentation in the grass, we let the sound of crashing water be our guide until a waterfall opened in front of us. It was beautiful with a 15 meter drop, a small pool at the bottom, and most importantly, no one around.

After a quick stop at the Runtun, we headed for the Refuge at 3800 meters. I drove the jeep for a bit trying to understand how a vehicle in such disrepair was still on the road. The brakes were terrifying, the suspension was rock solid, and the steering wheel had a full half rotation before it affected the wheels at all, but it ran and it got 4 of us up the mountain on cobble stones and dirt so that’s all the counts. For some reason, after I almost jumped the jeep over a speed bump, the girls decided they trusted me on a motorcycle. I had to keep the speeds a little lower than the day before as they all took a turn sitting on the back. The views at the lower elevations were incredible looking down onto the town and as we got higher everything was silenced as we rode into a cloud and the views were murky and serene. It was a great adventure with a great group of people.

That night involved enough alcohol for karaoke to seem like a good idea, and in the morning I decided I needed to leave before I spent all my money on bicycles, and kayaks, and motorcycles, and jeeps. I took a beautiful, although painful, 9 hour bus ride to Cuenca.

Getting lost in the Andes.

Baños is known for their taffy which is made of local cane sugar. They whip it onto a peg and stretch it over and over before its ready.

Cobble stone paving project high in the mountains.

The most water pressure I've had for a shower since arriving in Ecuador.

Our awesome adventure crew hanging out in the clouds.

Having fun in the single track.

Everyone made it in one piece.

Leaving Canoa

Time slips by if I don’t pay attention, and the last week in Canoa did just that.

Two days before coming to Ecuador I swung my leg over my R6 to head to Ocean Beach, dropping my camera out of my pocket - it broke when it hit the ground. I thought I could just buy one in Quito but prices are roughly twice what they are in the States so instead I bought one online and asked Aimee to send it down to me. The thing about Canoa though is that mail only gets delivered once a month, and its much more likely to actually arrive if you send it to the post office two towns away which requires a bus and boat to get to. So Aimee packed a USPS Flat-rate box full of contact solution, gummi bears, and peanut butter (which is worth its weight in gold amongst the gringos) and sent it on to the post office in Bahia. I waited two weeks and then started making the trek to Bahia to check the mail.

The shortest time it ever took was three and a half hours. One of my favorite trips to the post office started with my thumb out on the edge of town. A farmer slowed down enough for me to sling myself into the back of his pickup, modified with an extra tall bed. I didn’t choose those words for syntactical flow, his truck never came to a stop. I stood in the back absorbing potholes with my knees as we battled for pole position with other taxis, trucks, and busses down a two lane road at 100km/hr. He didn’t ask for money but I gave him the bus fare anyway because I had heard that was customary. After a short boat ride across the bay I showed up at the post office ten minutes before the sign on the door said they would open. I walked across the street and got a delicious almuerzo at a table where I could see the post office door. They never opened. The sign on the door said they were open from 2-4, and it was now 3:15. I finished and walked back across the street and stood with an Ecuadorian waiting for his mail. They still didn’t come. I sat on the ground writing in my journal until 4:15 when the post man showed up on his moto and casually unlocked the offices. He looked for my package for a couple seconds, shrugged, and told me it wasn’t there, not caring a bit that I had just waited for 2 ½ hours for him to show up. Oh Ecuador…

Ecuadorian breast cancer awareness stamp.

I was living a block from the beach in a long two story building. The front of it has lots of plants clustered around columns that support a terrace going along the whole second floor. The only way to get to my room was to walk into a common area on the first floor, up the stairs, and along the front patio to my room. To keep things interesting on Wednesday night, they locked the first floor room before I got home. I knocked on the owners door for a while but, although they confirmed the next morning they had heard me, they didn’t answer. My only option left was to scale the side of the building gripping a small piece of hammock rope with one hand and using flowerpots as stepping stools. After two failed attempts and some minor cuts and bruises, I finally broke into my own place early Thursday morning.

I finally got the package on Friday and that night I left Canoa. I’d been saying that as soon as the package arrived I’d leave but after spending a month in Canoa it was starting to feel like home. I met some great people there, had an awesome place to stay for $4 a night, and was enjoying the small town atmosphere. Two long bus rides later I got to Baños, a ridiculously cool place.

Looking at Canoa from the south

Cafe Flor, where I worked for the past month

View of the beach - a tropical paradise.

Awesome shells that I suggest looking for, cause its not ideal to find them with your feet.