On the backroads in southern Colombia

Although seemingly quite complicated, getting to the Colombian border from Otavalo proved to be very straight forward. We walked out of our hostel, immediately found a helpful taxi driver who dropped us off on the Panamericana highway with instructions to wave down any passing bus with a sign indicating it was heading to Ibarra and/or Tulcán. We had barely set down our backpacks when exactly such a bus drove up; our bags were thrown on board, we were chivvied swiftly up the stairs and before we knew it we were on our way. Admittedly, we did have to stand in the isle for about half an hour, but in Ibarra quite a few people got off, and we got a prime seat right up the front. In Tulcán we once again were quickly able to find a taxi driver who agreed to drive us the 6km to the border for a realistic price (sometimes finding a reasonable driver can take up to half an hour…!), and despite some hassle with the migration officers when exiting Ecuador (apparently the sleepy-looking policeman who we had to wake to inspect our passports in the tiny little border crossing in La Balsa had neglected to do stamp something :P ), we were in Colombia before lunch time. Unfortunately, taxi drivers offering realistic prices seemed to be quite rare on this side of the border, so we had to fork out quite a lot for the 5min ride to the bus terminal in nearby Ipiales – our first taste of the steep travel prices in Colombia. On the way from Ipiales to Pasto we were treated to beautiful views of rolling green hillsides and tea-coloured rivers tumbling over polished black rocks in canyons far below us. We also met a friendly Indian-British guy who was to be our travel-companion for the next few days. In Pasto (pretty ugly/dodgy-feeling city) checked into what seemed to be the only backpackers in town – the Koala Inn (no idea why they picked that name, they were definitely not Australian) then ventured out onto the streets in search of an ATM, some drinks and food. At first we were quite intimidated by the numerous heavily armed police and military personnel stationed throughout town, but this feeling dissipated latest when one of them, noticing us looking a little helplessly at our map (the town seemed to be almost bereft of places to eat/drink) approached us and very eagerly recommended we go to his favourite bar – a really funky rock’n’roll joint. :) The next day, after negotiating the new experience of haggling when buying a bus ticket (a Colombian-specific phenomenon) we headed to Popayan – the ‘white city’. We had read that Popayan ‘has the looks and history of Cartagena, the intellectual and social refinement of Bogotá, and the confidence of Medellín; but it has more style than all three’, so we were expecting a lot. And it is a very pretty little city – full of bright white buildings built in Andalucía-style, with numerous graceful churches and a central plaza offering a cool, green refuge from the warm midday sun. And best of all, the inhabitants have a well-established café-and-culinary culture – you can buy wonderful coffee and great food on every corner! We treated ourselves to a delicious steak dinner and spent a very pleasant evening in tiny little bar called El Sotareño, full of old people drinking shots of rum and augardiente (a nasty-smelling aniseed schnapps) and listening to lovely authentic grainy-sounding music from old vinyl records. A few couples even got up to dance between the tables – quite a feat, given the size of the bar!

We also had quite an interesting experience that night – meeting a crazy Scotsman who obviously liked to live life to the full; he was throwing back the beers like there was no tomorrow, and when we left he had hooked up with an equally crazy-looking Colombian woman who had tried very hard to sell us cocaine – and evidently liked to sample her own wares. The next day he arrived back at our hostel after lunch, full of stories of his crazy night – apparently they had partied hard and then ended up driving the woman’s brand new four-wheel-drive out the airport, both very ‘under-the-weather’, repeatedly running off the road and seriously damaging the car…they were both lucky to be alive AND not in prison! It seems that the stories about people coming to Colombia to live out their excesses are true…

The 'White City" of Popayan

The next day we set off on the bumpy 6-hour bus ride towards San Agustín, during which we once more witnessed evidence that many South Americans have extremely weak stomachs – almost every bus ride we have been on has involved at least 2 people having to ask the driver for a bolsita (plastic bag).  Luckily bus drivers are always prepared for this eventuality and have seemingly endless supplies of bolsitas! Unfortunately on this particular bus ride one woman couldn’t hold on long enough for her bolsita to be passed back and had to resort to using the window. Those sitting behind her quickly rushed to shut their windows, and the side of the bus was nicely decorated by the time we arrived! :P The joys of travelling… :P

The road to San Agustin through the lush green hills so typical of Colombia

Our bus dropped us off at an intersection a few kilometres outside town, and we were quickly bundled into a jeep by a friendly tour guide called José. As he explained to us on the quick ride into town, he and his son Christian (very shy!) organised jeep and horse tours through the spectacular valleys surrounding the town. His prices were also surprisingly reasonable, so we broke our own rules and booked a tour with him straight away without comparing prices at other agencies first – and we were not to regret it.

But first to our hostel – called Casa de Nelly, run by an older French woman with a love of cigarettes and Cuba libre, a perfect little piece of paradise on a hill overlooking the town of San Agustín. Welcomed by the friendly caretaker Harry (who had incidentally spent about 10 years in Köln!), we were shown to our lovely cosy cabaña, painted in wonderfully bright colours which matched the gorgeous garden surroundings perfectly. In addition to private cabins and a variety of rooms inside the lovely wooden main house, the hostel also offered a well equipped kitchen, a common area with a fire place and couches which seemed to be calling you to curl up with a book, and - last but not least - a patio with hammocks and lawn chairs overlooking the colourful riot of the garden. Although we had come to the area to visit the archaeological sites, the lure of the lovely hostel made it had to drag ourselves out to go on our tour the next morning! But José and Christian were there punctually at nine, and we dutifully squeezed into the tiny old jeep with our British friend and three other Australians (it was very cosy, and a bit hard on the knees!). We spent the rest of the day bouncing through cane, fruit and coffee plantations, over roaring rivers and up and over rolling green peaks. We not only visited several archaeological sites (including Alto de los Idolos and Alto de los Piedras, grave sites with statues known as vigilantes guarding each tomb), but also stopped to wonder at the Estrecho del Río Magdalena (the ‘narrows’ where one of Colombia’s biggest rivers squeezes itself, roaring and thundering, through a tiny stone passage barely 2m wide) and two impressive waterfalls (Salto del Mortiño and Saldo de Bordones). At the last waterfall we had fun daring ourselves to walk out onto a dodgy-looking, home-built platform hanging over the gorge below – the view was great, but the rusty construction did not look all that stable… :P

Just as we were finished with our tour, it started to rain, giving us the perfect excuse to spend the rest of the afternoon lazing around at our welcoming hostel, supping rum on the patio, chatting to Harry and playing with the owners’ two lovely dogs. The next morning we headed off to walk to the main attraction in San Agustín, the Parque Arqueológio, which contains hundreds of tombs guarded by vigilantes of varying sizes (from 30cm to more than 5m), carved out of volcanic rock and depicting figures which appear to be a mixture of human, animal and something else…. Very little is known about the culture that created these tombs and statues between the 6^th and 14^th centuries AD, but the mysterious, almost alien nature of some of the statues have given rise to many strange stories… :). In addition to the tombs and statues, a sort of ‘fountain’ was created by the ancient inhabitants – Fuente de Lavapatas, a fascinating maze of carved channels decorated with faces and animals through which the stream has been redirected.  We really enjoyed the three hours we spent wandering around in the park –the beautiful setting in the jungle and the almost complete lack of people made it a pleasure to visit, and you can really see that your entrance fee is being put to good use – the paths winding through the jungle, the information boards and shelters protecting the tombs are all very well-maintained, and there are rubbish bins and toilets throughout (very different from Machu Picchu and many other sites we have visited where you pay an astronomical price and are provided with no information or facilities whatsoever).

 After another relaxing evening watching the sun set over the garden in Casa de Nelly and a relaxing Sunday sleep-in the next morning, we walked town into town will the intention of catching a colectivo out to visit some more grave sites north of town. But we ended up not making it – a mixture of the colourful, festive atmosphere in town and the fact that the colectivos had been redirected to make way for a religious parade meant that we ended up not making it further than a lovely little coffee shop on the main square. We sat there for quite a while; savouring a delicious ice coffee (Colombians really know their coffee!) and listening to the booming voice of the village priest giving the Sunday service – something about solidarity and the importance of community spirit. Watching the square was an entertaining pastime in itself – it was full of activity: ice-cream vendors peddling their wares, squealing children dressed in their Sunday best (usually covered in melted ice-cream thanks to the vendors J ), young men trotting around proudly on their well-groomed horses trying to catch the eye of one of the girls sitting in giggling groups on shady benches. Sitting and watching the Sunday goings-on turned out to be much more fun that hiking in the heat, and we spent a lovely morning there before heading back for another relaxing afternoon on the patio.

The path through the garden to Casa de Nelly

A big furry fella who crossed our path on the way to town

The cute little church in San Agustin

Our beautiful little cabin in Casa de Nelly

The Estrecho where the Rio Magdelena is squeezed through a tiny passage

The colourful Colombian buses

A visual representation of the ayahuasca experience 

Salto del Mortiño 

Beautiful rolling hills we bounced through on our jeep tour

More lovely plants

Sugar cane harvesting

Lots and lots of feet!

Saldo de Bordones

The 'interesting' viewing platform at Saldo de Bordones

Lovely flowers in the garden of our hostel 

The cosy communal area in the best hostel we have visited so far

Casa de Nelly

The perfect patio

The brilliantly colourful garden at Casa de Nelly

Grave vigilante - he seems to be shaking a baby...no one knows why

My favorite - a little bird looking quite guilty about having caught a snake

Mic thinks this one has an uncanny resemblence with Beavis from the famous cartoon show :P

Not sure what this one is up to, but definitely nothing good!

Fuente de Lavapatas

Fuente de Lavapatas

The main square in San Agustin

Snake skin - we have seen lots of skins and dead snakes on the road, but no live ones so far

The next morning we had to force ourselves to pack and leave Casa de Nelly – one of the most comfortable, welcoming and pretty hostels we have stayed in so far. The fact that a long and complicated journey to our next destination awaited us did not make leaving more appealing. We wanted to go to Tierradentro, another interesting archaeological site not all that far away, but which unfortunately was not reachable by bus, but rather involved lots of colectivo-hopping. What was destined to be a long day started out badly when we discovered that, thanks to the long weekend, the two ATMs in San Agustín refused to give us money. Hoping for better luck in the next town, we hopped in a crowded car for the relatively short ride to Pitalito. Once there, we found out that the next available ride to La Plata, the next stop on our journey, was to leave in 10min, and that if we missed that one, we would be in for quite a wait. But we still hardly had any money, so, after asking the driver to wait for us, Mic went off in search of a cash machine. But as luck would have it, the only one nearby was also out of money due to the long weekend. Not wanting to miss our ride, and hoping to find a working machine in slightly-larger La Plata, we piled into the colectivo and headed off. On the ride to La Plata, we found out from some fellow passengers also heading our way that there were only very few cars connecting onwards to Tierradentro daily, but that they had arranged for one to wait for them, and that we were welcome to join them. This would have been perfect for us, if it wasn’t for the fact that we had almost no money. We explained this to the driver who had been waiting for us in La Plata, and he agreed to take us to an ATM before heading off on the last leg of the journey. Much to the displeasure of all the others in the car (many of whom had been waiting almost an hour for us to arrive), the driver then proceeded to ferry us around town to all the ATMs he knew – none of which had money! Increasingly uncomfortable at having to make the others wait for us, we finally asked the driver to drop us off back at the terminal, and we started to resign ourselves to the fact that we would probably have to stay overnight in La Plata and wait for the banks to open the next day. But, in a last-ditch effort, Mic decided to do a round of the ATMs again, and this time finally managed to find one that could give us cash! The sound of the money being fed out by the machine was music to our ears! Our good luck then continued when we found out that one more car was scheduled to leave for Tierradentro that afternoon at 4pm. And so, after a delay of a couple of hours and one last, very cramped colectivo ride, we finally reached our destination – only to find that we had to walk another 30min uphill to get to our hostel…grrr! It was a looong day, and we were both very happy to finally arrive, eat and have a (cold) shower before falling into bed. Unfortunately the night also wasn’t that restful, as the bed was much too small for both of us (built for those tiny South American couples) and the whole area seemed to be infested with roosters, all of which had dodgy internal clocks – they crowed ALL NIGHT! We woke less-than-rested and a bit cranky, but a delicious breakfast cooked by our lovely host (a very small, round, perpetually cheerful woman) cheered us up and gave us energy for a day of exploring the tombs. And you do need a lot of energy! The grave sites are located on top of several (quite steep!) hills, and then you have to climb in and out of the tombs themselves – some of which are more than 4m deep. But all the exertion was definitely worth it – the tombs were fascinating! Hewn out of the volcanic rock of the hillsides, the cave-like tombs are decorated with carvings and geometric patterns, many of which, more than 1000 years after they were painted, still retain their original colours! (mostly red, white and black). The hilltop locations of the gravesites, together with the fact that we were the only ones there, and that we had to climb down, down, down spiral staircases into the complete darkness of the tombs made the whole experience all the more mysterious and exciting. And the sheer number of the tombs is amazing! While only a dozen or so are open to the public, the sites scattered on the hillsides around the town contain several hundred tombs – and experts are sure there are many more as yet undiscovered. As with San Agustín, very little is known about the culture that created the tombs, but they are thought to have been active between the 7^th and 9^th centuries, but disappeared for some unknown reason long before the Spaniards arrived. A fascinating place!

One of the more simple, less well preserved graves - extra spooky!

Paintings which have lasted more than 1000 years

Urns with human remains were placed in these niches in the bottoms of the tombs. They are thought to have normally belonged to members of the same family, and were so-called second burials - the remains had first been buried in a seperate grave, then removed, placed in urns and re-buried in these elaborate tombs after they had decomposed

Old ceramic urns

Spiral stairs leading down into the dark unknown....

Very well maintained grave sites, complete with little roofs over the tombs

Smiling faces inside the tombs

The tombs have been covered to preserve them, and you have to enter through small trap doors. No good if you are afraid of small spaces...

More wonderfully preserved paintings

Beautiful views on the walk up to the grave sites

Very early morning wait for the bus to Popayan

Interesting art on the streets of Cali

Love the street art in South America!!

'Interesting' construction site in Cali - not sure I would trust this to hold me!

After another rooster-plagued night, we were up again at 5am the next morning to catch the (only direct) bus back to Popayan (a wonderful drive through more wonderfully lush Colombian hillsides). Due to our forced early start, we arrived in ‘the white city’ before lunch and were able to get a connecting bus to Cali the same afternoon. Cali is renowned for its energetic salsa scene and not much else, so we were pleasantly surprised by how pretty the city turned out to be – with tree-lined streets and a very well-developed river-front area. After being seriously ripped off by an extremely unfriendly taxi driver who ‘couldn’t find’ our hostel and proceeded to drive us around in circles for half an hour (grrr again), we arrived at our hostel and checked in, planning to have a rest before venturing out to experience Cali’s famous nightlife. Unfortunately, Mic didn’t end up being able to get out of bed – he had picked up some sort of infection which involved very swollen glands and a fever. Luckily it was short lived – but it did mean that we didn’t really get to enjoy the hot-blooded party soul of Cali – although I did have a lot of fun with a big group of Australians during the hostel’s free salsa classes and am thus now equipped with the basics of salsa for when we hit dance clubs on the Caribbean coast in the not too distant future! :)

Highs and lows along Ecuador’s backbone

It took us a while to decide which way to head after leaving the lush, relaxed south of Ecuador. The small country is dived into three very different sections – on the one side the hot, dry costal region, on the other the lush tropical rainforest, and straight down the middle, like a barricade separating the two, the ever-present continental divide – the Andes. Deciding not to go to the jungle again was easy – after having delved into the Amazon in both Bolivia and Perú, we felt we had seen enough of la selva. But the choosing between the costal or alpine route north was more difficult. On the one hand we felt drawn to the ocean after so long inland, but on the other, the descriptions of Ecuador’s mountain villages in our guide books were very enticing…. We finally decided to make our way north along the country’s rugged backbone – but not before promising ourselves to treat ourselves to some costal warmth as soon as we get to Colombia! J

From Zamora we bussed north to the beautiful colonial city of Cuenca and loved it immediately. Its maze of narrow cobblestone streets and whitewashed, red-roofed buildings, its leafy plazas and elegant churches, and its setting on the grassy banks of the Río Tomebamba all combine to make Cuenca a ‘charming’ place. Charming in the old-fashioned, unassuming and slightly quaint sense of the word. There is nothing conceited, arrogant or brash about Cuenca’s quiet pride in its beauty, but you can tell it is a community very much aware of how special it is. This is reflected in the care with which the inhabitants treat the city. It is extremely tidy and well-kept – the locals could even give some Germans a run for their money when it comes to keeping the patch of footpath in front of their houses swept and weed-free! J

View from one of the balconies in our lovely hostel in Cuenca

The gracefully impressive 'new' cathedral towering over the leafy main square in Cuenca

The domes of the new cathedral

San Francisco church 

Even the street-art in Cuenca is dignified :P

We spent three days in graceful Cuenca – staying in a lovely hostel with two outdoor sitting areas, one with a view over the river and green university campus, the other over the bustling streets of down-town. We treated ourselves to dinners in real restaurants (surprisingly affordable!) and coffee in outdoor cafés on the many leafy squares. We strolled along the river and through the narrow streets in the warm, spring-like sun and tip-toed, whispering through cavernous, cool churches. We soaked up the sun on our river-side balcony by day and tapped our feet to live music in the evenings.  After our stay in Vilcabamba and our love of the lush, green vegetation of the south, Cuenca only added to our feeling that Ecuador was one of the most appealing countries we had been to so far. But as they say – when things seem to be going too well, you are usually in for a nasty wake up call. And so it was with us. After having had lots of good luck on our trip so far, it was time for some of the bad. Our bad luck streak started when our laptop died on us on our last day in Cuenca, leaving us without a backup for our photos. Although annoyed by this small hiccup, we decided to forget about it for the time being and head to the little town of Baños – renowned for its beautiful setting and healing thermal baths, the town is heralded in the guide books as ‘one of Ecuador’s most enticing and popular tourist destinations’. With high expectations, we took a bus from Cuenca to Riobamba, were, instead of taking us to the terminal, the very unhelpful bus driver unceremoniously dumped us and our bags on the side of a dusty, busy roundabout on the outskirts of town. Annoyed and desperately in need of a loo, we tried unsuccessfully to hail a taxi to take us to the terminal. Just as we were starting to get seriously peeved, a passing 4x4 taxi containing a small family stopped and the young mother in the front seat leaned out to ask us if we wanted to go to Baños. Thinking they were going to the bus terminal to take a bus to Baños, we said yes and hopped in. As our only piece of good luck that day, it turned out that the family was actually heading all the way to Baños and offered to take us for about the same price the bus would have cost. Despite our still-urgent need for the toilet, we spent a very enjoyable hour and a half with the small family – answering their many questions about Germany and having a lot of fun playing with the very cheeky and extremely energetic Angelina, their 3-year-old daughter. They dropped us on the main square of the tiny town of Baños, and as soon as we got out of the car, we knew we were not going to like the place. Full of neon lights and dogged touts and overrun with gringos, the town was one huge tourist trap. To add to our bad impression of the place, it was raining. And it didn’t stop raining until we left two days later. We booked ourselves into an extremely overpriced hostel with a bathroom that smelt of something rotting and headed out in search of something to eat. Finding something affordable among the endless rows of pizza/hamburger joints wasn’t an easy task. The usually ever-present local set-menu places were missing, and even the pollo shops were exorbitantly priced. We finally settled on a pizza and then headed back to the hostel with some drinks from the supermarket to try to avoid paying the steep prices in the town’s bars. The next day, despite the persistent rain, we decided to pay a visit to one of the thermal baths that give Baños its name.  But upon our arrival at what is reputed to be the towns ‘nicest’ bath, we took one look and decided against it. The ‘baths’ were simply old, badly maintained, dirty-looking swimming pools full of milky, steaming water and PACKED with bodies. There was no way you could have found a place to sit or stand in the water without rubbing legs/arms/bums with at least 4 other people. And judging by the number of children and babies splashing around, I am guessing a good deal of the water’s warmth was likely to be pee-based. Not our idea of fun, so we squelched through the rain back to our smelly hostel room to try to decide what to do next. Activities in Baños include white-water rafting (extremely expensive, and according to several people in our hostel, not much ‘white’ water was involved), mountain biking (also very pricy, and in the rain, not really an option) and horse riding (ditto on the price, and Mic is not a fan of horses at all). We tried walking around town – usually a good way to pass the time – but the row upon row of tourist shops and travel agents do not really make for interesting viewing. The one thing that we did find in Baños that we liked was the melcocha – locally made toffee. There are countless shops producing and selling it, all with sweet-makers stretching long ropes of the sticky mass in the doorways and offering passers-by tasty testers. But all in all, after a long, boring, wet day in the little tourist town, we decided to leave as early as we could the next day and head for the capital, Quito. 

Old couple sleeping in the bus

Lovely Angelina, daughter of the couple who gave us a lift to Baños 

Hilarous roast pig's head in the Baños markets - someone has got an evil sense of humor :P

Melcocha – locally made toffee in Baños 

The next morning, on the bus north, our steak of bad luck continued, and our feelings of good-will towards the friendly Ecuadorians suffered a severe blow. Usually bus rides in Ecuador are fun – there is always music, often a film or two, lots of cheeky children who think we are the most interesting thing they have ever seen and an almost constant stream of buskers, beggars and people selling everything from banana chips to quack stomach potions hopping on and off. It is a loud, pleasant atmosphere, everyone is open and friendly and we always felt safe and welcome. But as it turns out, not all our fellow passengers were as friendly as they seemed. Lulled into a false sense of security, we had put our small backpack containing our laptop between our feet. About an hour into the trip, we noticed it was no longer in sight, and discovered it quite far back under our seat. Pulling it forward, Mic immediately noticed it was much lighter than it should have been. Opening it (the clips had been carefully re-closed) confirmed our fears – the laptop and the plastic bag containing some other electronic equipment was missing – obviously stolen by the men sitting behind us. Noticing our agitation, the conductor came over and asked us what was missing, offering to call the police. This obviously scared the men behind us, and one of them quickly suggested that perhaps the items had simply ‘slipped out’ and that we should check under our seat again. When we checked, our missing electronic equipment had magically reappeared. We quickly repacked our bag, making sure that everything was really there. When we confirmed that it was, everyone around us seemed to take it for granted that that was that – the matter could be forgotten. We sat there dazed; knowing that the men sitting behind us had just blatantly robbed us, and just as blatantly returned the items when they knew they’d been sprung, lying to our faces about what had happened. And even worse, even if not directly involved, at least four people sitting around us must have seen what had happened and said nothing. We considered calling the police, but seeing as we had all our things back, there was nothing they could have done, and it would have just been our word against the thieves’. It was a bizarre and very uncomfortable feeling to sit for the next 2 hours within arms’ reach of someone who had just tried to rob you, and surrounded by people who had, through their silence, aided in the attempt. Although we had expected to have things stolen from us on this trip, the way in which it happened surprised and disappointed us. But, despite all that, we were lucky that we noticed and thus managed to get our belongings back, and in the end we are much the wiser for the experience: No matter how friendly people seem, we will never let our guard down like that again. And that, in actual fact, is the saddest part.

We arrived in Quito still upset, and the city didn't help to cheer us up. After so long in small towns, the noisy, dirty, hectic atmosphere of the big-smoke was a bit much. Also, the southern bus terminal is miles outside the centre, and if you don’t want to pay more than 15 dollars for a taxi, you have to take a crowded trolley bus to get into town. Riding a packed bus with huge backpacks while at the same time making sure no one steals your wallet out of your pocket is not a fun experience. But we made it into the centre without mishap and checked into our cheap-as-chips hostel (pretty good deal, but not very friendly). Our shaken belief in the friendliness of Ecuadorians was once again weakened by the receptionist at our hostel explicitly warning us that walking around after dark in Quito was considered very dangerous, and that we should definitely take a taxi if we planned to go anywhere at night. Tired, still a little shocked and annoyed in general, we decided to hide in our room, have an early night and hope for a better day in the morning. But the next days did little to cheer us up. We had a list of things to get organised in Quito, including fixing our computer, changing our flight dates and extending our health insurance (we had decided to extend our trip until November). None of these things turned out to be simple tasks. After two days of running backwards and forwards, catching over-filled buses, being pushed and shoved and honked at, we were not one step further than we were when we arrived. The computer stores we went to only had Spanish or English repair disks for Windows, which were not compatible with our German version. The office listed on the Lufthansa website as their representative in Quito told us that they were only affiliated with the company and thus not authorised to change flight details. Despite repeated attempts to contact our travel insurance company, we had still had no reply.  We were tired and annoyed and getting on each other’s nerves.  But then, as often happens, everything seemed to change for the better. We finally found a little computer shop run by your typical computer nerd – slightly overweight, desk full of a random mixture of hard-drives, disks, disassembled mainboards and bare-bone towers, interspersed with a sprinkling of empty junk food wrappers. J He dragged his attention away from a cartoon he was watching long enough to take a quick look at our laptop and announce that of course he could fix it, and dismissed us with instructions to come back the next afternoon. We came back the next day, paid him 25 US dollars and left with a fully functional computer, complete with a new version of Windows 7, and all our personal files completely restored! To improve our mood even more, we finally heard back from our insurance company, and managed to re-book our flights online for less than 250 Euro. Once solved, our problems suddenly appeared much less dramatic than they had seemed, and we felt a bit silly for having been so stressed. We finally relaxed and spent a day doing touristy things, and deciding that Quito wasn’t such a bad place after all. We explored the old part of town, which is FULL of impressive churches. We took a trip to the Equator, 20km north of the city – a bus ride that took more than an hour and half and cost a grand total of 40 cents (Quito really has its public transport system worked out!). We sat on one of the many super-trendy squares in the new part of town and watched Quito’s too-cool-for-school crowd strut their stuff. Even an incident involving a truck with questionable brakes sideswiping the back of a bus we were on, swerving to avoid hitting us, and causing another vehicle to crash into the back of the truck (no one was hurt, but the car was a write-off) didn't ruin our new-found positive attitude. J  

Plaza San Francisco - one of 'Old Quito's' lovely squares

On the Plaza de Independencia in Old Quito

Plaza de Independencia in Old Quito

The beautiful Basilica in Old Quito - one of the most impressive churches I have seen in a long time - and for once in South America, NOT stuffed full of golden decorations!

The lovely courtyard in front of the Basilica - perfect place to sit and soak up some sun

Climbing the terraced gardens behind the Basilica

Inside the Basilica - immense, simply decorated and filled with quiet music. I am not a church person normally, but this one was special.

Old and new traditions mix in 'New Quito' (the tourist centre) - a family in traditional clothing selling cigarettes on the street

Trip to the 'middle of the world' - the Equator 

The monument marking the Equator - actually built about 300m too far south, but who's counting? :P

Ecuadorian pride at the Equator

Plaza de Independencia as seen from above in the miniature version of the city displayed at Mitad del Mundo

Browsing through some pictures of famous Ecuadorians - never knew Borat had led a secret life as an Ecuadorian writer! 

But despite us warming up to Quito, after four days in the big city we were very happy to hop on a bus out of there - especially after having to pay 10 dollars to get a taxi to the northern bus terminal (which is almost as far off the map as the southern one) and then standing in line for what seemed like hours to get a bus ticket. We breathed a huge sigh of relief to be out of the city and heading further north along the mountain range to the pretty little town of Otavalo. There was actually a positive side to us having been ‘stuck’ in Quito for so long – we arrived in Otavalo just in time for the famous Saturday markets. On Saturdays, the whole town turns into a market – not only the main square, but all the streets are lined with stall upon stall of jewellery, textiles, musical instruments and other assorted handicrafts. In addition to this enormous artisaníans market and the obligatory food markets (the fruits and veg here is so amazingly fresh!), there is also a very happening livestock market just outside town, full of indigenous people in traditional dress milling around between pigs, cows, chickens, goats, puppies, guinea pigs, ducklings, kittens, rabbits and more. The haggling of those buying and selling is almost as loud as the complaints of the animals who obviously resent being sold (see below). In addition to the attractions of the markets themselves, the local people who come into town on market day in their beautiful traditional clothing add colour and flair to Otavalo on Saturdays. The men here all have long, single pigtails hanging down their backs and wear white, calf-length pants, long blue or grey woollen ponchos and felt hats. The women wear beautifully embroidered white peasant blouses, brilliantly coloured cummerbunds and hairbands, long black skirts and dozens of golden necklaces. Although we usually avoid taking pictures of people for fear of offending them, this time we just couldn’t resist – and the bustle of the markets provided good cover, allowing us to get a few good shots (see below).

Overlooking the centre of the craft market in Otavalo

One of the lovely ladies in their traditional outfits - all dressed up and ready to haggle for a pig or two at the animal markets

One of the older men dressed in his traditional clothing (the younger men preferred jeans and T-shirts)

According to the salesman, when these little guys grow up, they will guard your house....can't help but think they will probably rather lick robbers to death..:P

Little girl sharing her coconut ice-cream with a kitten

Cuys and rabbits - cute AND tasty :P

Ducklings and baby turkeys

A pig protesting VERY loudly about having been sold to this couple...

Seeing this made us understand the reason for his protests! :P

Another potential house 'protector'  finds a new home

This woman made a good haul at the chook stand!

Tiny little couple off to the fruit markets

An even tinier little old man in a hurry to see a man about a dog..

Wonderful fresh fruit and veg!

Traditional, hand embroidered blouses

Hmmm, somehow I have the feeling that not EVERYTHING being sold at the 'traditional' markets is really from Ecuador... :P

Some lovely old seniors having a very serious discussion

In addition to enjoying the amazing markets in Otavalo, we also managed to find a great little pub to watch the Champions League final between Dortmund and Bayern. Although the game didn’t quite turn out the way we would have liked, L it was a good night with a couple of beers, surrounded by Ecuadorians who were more enthusiastic about the game than we would ever have expected (and we were also pleasantly surprised that most of them seemed to support Dortmund!).

So, although our trip along the backbone of Ecuador included the worst lows we have experienced on our trip so far, it has also offered us plenty of highs, and we will leave the country tomorrow for Columbia with many good memories. 

People here were slightly confused about the names of the teams playing in the final...but still, they were almost as excited as us!