Quito - Riobamba - Candelaria: 25/03 - 01/04

Happy 9th Birthday Zephyr 2010!!

On my return to Quito I soon discovered John Lennon and that there was a growing anti-sentiment towards the machoism so prominent in the country, including a concert(!) against it and a lot of feminist graffiti around Mariscal.

We arrived at El Cafecito, a hostel-cum- restaurant and stayed the night in our lovely room with amazingly shit beds. The next morning I transferred out to more of a bed and breakfast type place called Galapagos Natural Life and Yvo & Helen, booted out of their Cafecito room, followed me over. The next few days I spent enjoying more food and coffeecoffeecoffeecoffeecoffee! Yvo and Helen & I spent a half day in Old Town - we went to a photography exhibition we thought was recommended by my English friends (still not sure) where we saw various photos of subjects like indigenous women with beer, out of focus people with rubbish and blue-themed kids play-fighting. They then spent a good day organising their week-long Galapagos trip (I was jealous until I heard the $1000 price tag) and we then said good-bye after having great times together. Thanks guys! I watched a great movie at the hostel - `The Boys are Back`, a recent Australian/English flick with a prominently Sigur Ros soundtrack. Absolutely fantastic, and not in a `Date Movie` kind of way.

I purchased the Guide to Hiking & Climbing in Ecuador, with excellent and comprehensive coverage of lots of great hiking throughout the Andes and more. I decided to do one of the day trips up to the cloudforest close to Quito on a Monday but was fundamentally thwarted. The first section of the trip to Cotocallao was straight-forward but after that some typical South American direction giving and refusal to say the words `I don`t know` sent me spinning in circles not to mention walking along some quite iffy backstreets in suburban Quito. I did get to see a poorer side of Quito but decided after an hour of searching to abandon the ordeal and return to the safety of Mariscal.

There I searched out the Botanic Gardens, only to find it was $3.50 to get in, which is essentially equivalent to 8 or 9$ here in Australia. Stuff off¡¡ So I didn`t go. Probably should have but it wasn`t that big anyway. Instead I sought out the Guayasamin Museum. Ecuadorian Oswaldo Guayasamin designed buildings, made sculptures but primarily painted. His paintings were obviously influenced by Picasso and cubism, but he drew such emotions from his characters that it impressed me no end. Zoe, I remember your description of how you felt looking at Hunderwasser`s works in Vienna - I think I felt a similar way towards this artwork. Very impressive.

That evening two Israeli girls at my hostel were celebrating the Passover weekend with a special vegetable and dumpling soup which they kindly offered to share with me. Yum yum, muy muy... rico. The next day I visited a great gym (run by an Irishman, not Ecuadorian, of course) with all you could want really except for a sauna that went hot enough!!

After my failed attempt at a day-hike, my failed attempt to skype Zephyr for his birthday and my failing attempts at securing satifactory volunteer work I felt the need for a cleanse. I had been trying to find hiking partners through the internet to no avail so I went to the South Am Ex Club but flopped there also. Oh well, hiking alone can be some of the best hikes. So I shopped (including purchasing this very exclusive upmarket Guava Jam - see photo), packed, prepared, stored excess stuff and said goodbye to Galapagos and their awesome breakfasts. The night before I had attended the SAE trivia night at an over-priced English pub and met some lovely Americans Julien and Dominique and Hannes from Estonia (whereever that is...). He had the weirdest and coolest accent in history. Trivially though, who shot JR on Dallas, who would win in a fight between a polar bear and a lion and which country has the best looking men¿ Well, Sue-Ellen`s sister, the polar bear and Australia, of course. The hint for the best-looking men question was there was one of them in the room. My being the only Australian in the room everyone immediately saw why it was such a dead giveaway hint. Afterwards I thought of lots of suave and sexy things to say to the ladies and audience in general like `As I`m one of the best-looking men in the world... ` and something to do with `The thunder from Down Under`. It felt cool just thinking about saying those things.

Now if there`s one imperative reason to avoid splitting up with someone after you have children together I can tell you what that is. `For the children!`. Nope. Because God will be angry¿ Try again. It`s actually so you don`t have to deal with the Child Support Agency(CSA). The Government must hand-pick the most unhygenic, gutter-crawling, baby-eating, souless bullies from the Official Guild of Dip-shits and selectively breed them together to achieve these sub-human mutant spawn completely incapable of any kind of thought or action even remotely humane. Disclaimer: if you work for the CSA please don`t take this to heart or seriously, take it VERY seriously. :)

The tenuous link there was that I was a bit late getting going for having to deal with the CSA long-distance style on my morning of departure for Sangay National Park. So... brave the first of two Pick-pocket Rockets (or as the locals call them the Ecovia and Trole express buses). Travel a good hour out to the south bus terminal. Take a bus to Riobamba. In Ecuador`s bus system you can`t pay more to get a better service. The buses are reasonably comfortable but have no air-conditioning or toilets. The driving is OK compared to other South American situations I`ve been in, but the most annoying thing is the constant stopping to pick up more people. So you can be guaranteed of a over-full bus for the entire journey. They let on children up to about the age of 8 without a ticket, who then occupy seats until they have to sit on parents` laps. People including our mobile salesmen friends clog the aisles and make it quite uncomfortable at times for full fee paying sitters. Just my spit, to let you know. Not really that bad. He he, one rica (rich woman) paid for a seat (and whole ice-cream) for her pedigree Scottish terrier. Funny. Also funny is the photo of the back of another bus with some rather intersting versions of the names `Jonathan and Christopher`.

Once in large Riobamba I taxied over to the other bus terminal and market to find out I was to wait 2.5hrs for the bus to Candelaria. No problems - Eat, internet, drink fresh coconut juice and restrain myself from starting a fight with staring and rude locals. On the breathtakingly beautiful trip to Candelaria I chatted with a local medical student about the Chilean earthquake, volcanoes, weeds and skydiving (or paragliding, Im not sure). The scenery was amazing, despite the ravaged landscape. We passed through a beautiful valley filled with farms and climbed next to insanely steep cliffs into a smaller valley past rich soils growing lots of corn and potatoes. The smiling and laughing locals were predominantly an indigenous people who dressed in Northcote hats, colourful woolen shawls and fine jewelery.

It grew dark coming into Candelaria and I thought I wouldn`t make it to the Hacienda Releche that night... but upon asking for directions found it quite simply. The Hacienda was a lovely old farmhouse converted to a great hostel. I was exhausted! After sleeping on a terribly limp mattress for a week in Quito I was rewarded with a bed of about the feel of a concrete bust of a hard rectangular German bread.

Quito - Baños - Quito: 22/03 - 25/03

My impression that Ecuador is much like a smaller, poorer cousin of Peru seems to be becoming more solid. It thrives on tourism fueled by incredible cultural and natural resources, is full of thieves, liars and beggars and retains that charming machoism and sexism I was so fond of in Peru. On the bus from Quito (I`m pretty certain) I had my toiletries bag and floppy hat stolen from my bag between my legs. Basically whatever they could get their hands on. $·%$ers, where am I going to find another Indian tongue-scraper over here¿¿¿!!

Baños is nestled in a valley of steep mountains underneath a (apparently) currently active volcano. It lives on tourism - its original call to fame being hot spring baths, this being currently outpaced by a plethora of adventure tourism companies all offering exactly the same sports like rafting, canyoning, mountain biking and bridge-swinging - kind of like bungee but you swing under a bridge instead of bounce. It is also an ´alternative´ town, with a healthy massage industry and various alternative therapies and treatments. Many bars and cafes have intricate murals with Indian, jungle and general hippy inspirations.

On the first morning I jogged a few k´s out of town to one of the hot spring baths. Absolutely revitalising. Perfectly hot, medium and freezing mini-pools full of elderly Ecuadorians and brown, mineral-rich spring water. Ahhhhh! On the way back I stopped in to get a fresh sugar cane juice - I hadn´t had one of those since Zanzibar. So after a yummy breakfast at our basic hostal, the others took ATVs to explore the many waterfalls on the way down to the Amazon and I decided to hike the steepness surrounding the town after changing hostals. This was excellent exercise, but not that impressive nature-wise. With my paranoia of crime piqued I carried a small throwing rock in my pocket and procured a tree branch to masquerade as a lame-hiker. Really. But nothing happened so I didn´t get to whack anyone... ohhhh. It was quite a climb and the rapid descent challenged my knees considerably. At my new hostal I re-encountered Yves and Helen, two crazy flying Dutchmen whom Michelle and I had met at the start of our journey in Puerto Natales, Chile. Cool! Together we dined at a French restaurant on delicious lamb, vegetables and baby potatoes, compared notes on our respective journeys and planned our following day down the mountain on pushies.

This was a great day. Lots of sunshine, speed, and selva combined with awesome views of the surrounding mountains and valley kept us all quite thrilled. We stopped to watch someone swan...sorry, ugly-duckling-dive on a bridge-swing, swim in some of the many waterfalls and play cat and mouse with local trucks on the steep declines. All good fun - until the uphills started at around the 35km mark. I pushed on ahead to the lowland town of Mera, where I waited for my mates. The had hit a wall however and decided to hitch with a Hilux. Luckily we saw each other and quickly decided to return to Baños by bus.

The next day after Yves and Helen joined my ritual early morning visit to the hot springs and sugar cane juice place, we leisurely packed, lunched and jumped on afternoon bus back to Quito. As Yves said Baños is a fantastic and beautiful town, but I couldn`t help but be impressed by just how bored all the locals seemed to be when dealing with us tourists. The town also showed again the total lack of creativity they seem to have - it seems every tour agency offers exactly the same things at the same price; the tens of sweet stores the same; the juice stands the same. It`s like they see one thing being successful so all they do is just carbon copy that formula in the hope of syphoning off some of the bu$iness. Oh well.

We all kept vigilant guard on our things for the uneventful but slower return to Quito`s great heights and impressive mountain setting, and Yves and I swapped Ipods to experience our respective progressive house collections. Yessss! Finally, someone else who actually likes to listen to techno (and my type of techno too), not just put up with it or dance when they`re out on drugs. I guess Eminem was right, Moby, no body listens to techno.

Quito: 17/03 - 22/03

So after visiting Uncle Ho for the damn finest food I`d had in South America - glazed garlic pork skewers on a grapefruit and coriander salad - I rocked in to the nearest hospital to get looked at by no less than 5 different medical staff before being jabbed with the first of my series of rabies shots. Afterwards I tracked down a great 24hr (!) coffee shop to ease my pain at the loss of Jesus. Its surprising how few properly trained barristas there are here. Then being St. Patrick`s Day I had a green and white Yin-Yang painted onto my face and we went to messy Finn McCool`s to celebrate the Irishness of it all.

The Mariscal Sucre area is ultra-touristy with tour agencies, restaurants, clubs, bars, cafes, backpacker/adventure shops, drug dealers and a bad reputation for crime, which we were assured by our hostel staff had improved greatly recently. It certainly appeared a tightly secured area with rent-a-cops and security everywhere, along with regular police. Although as I found out on-line later this is not necessarily a guarantee of protection in the event of a crime.

The evening at Finn`s was a predictably boring experience of trying to avoid alcohol, absorbing cigarette smoke and enduring Oasis singalongs. But fun enough to be in the company of my travelmates. :) Guiness was $14 a can. In comparison a pint of local pig-swill would set you back $2.50 (expensive even then). I rose the next morning and found a well-kept local park to exercise in, unlike in Bogota where I found none. I returned to my overcrowded dorm room at Blue House hostel which seemed full of cokeheads, chimneys and piss pots, none of which seemed to bother the staff. Oh well.

That day and the following I spent in Mariscal sampling amazingly good and cheap food. A perfect cappuchino and lush `Chocolate Volcano` dessert... $9? No, $4. A yummy real mince burger with bacon and self-serve gourmet sauces... $7? No, $2. A fresh garden salad, coconut chicken with veg and rice, a raspberry juice drink, and fresh fruit salad... $20? No, $3.80.

I found out the rainforest revegetation and nursery project I had been lining up as a several month live-and-work project was indefinitely on-hold. Bugger. I was really looking forward to it too. Oh well. I also hung out with Sister (pronounced Zyster) and Maria from Germany who together with the Brits formed a ruthless quintet of female techno-dislikers. I didn`t like any of them anyway. I took Maria who was staying in Latin America for about a year to join the South American Explorers clubhouse, a beautiful colonial mansion with a ton of resources for researching travel in this great continent. There I tasted great Ecuadorian chocolate. If Colombia has the world`s best coffee then ditto Ecuador/chocolate.

I transferred to my new and essentially deserted hotel in the Richie Rich part of town, paying a bit more per night but having my own room and lots of quietude. Later I said farewell to Claire, Abi and Hannah, of whom the latter 2 were heading off for a jungle adventure for a few days. The next day I returned to the Explorers Club to research hikes and look at volunteer opportunities. There the idea of a volunteer `tour` of Ecuador formed in my head. To spend a month or so at 5 or so different volunteer places around the country, probably spending more than I`d wish but (hopefully) not getting bored either.

On Sunday with the Americans Laura (whom I`d me at the Cranky Croc) and Daniel I explored the renowned Old Town of Quito, the gorgeous and expansive colonial centre with ancient gold-laden churches, impressive cobblestone squares and the Basilica del Voto Nacional, a tall gothic cathedral you can climb to experience fantastic views of the city. While there we saw this baby-clothes store, who (rightly so too) decided to enhance their display window with these Chucky and Jason the 13th dolls. And that guy`s jeans.

For the next day with Laura and Amri and Adi the Israeli brothers we decided to set out to Baños, probably the most touristiest place in mainland Ecuador.

Salento - Armenia - Cali - Popayan - Pasto - Ipiales - Santuario de las Lajas - Tulcan - Quito: 15/03 - 17/03

Sven joined us for the bus to Armenia before transferring to head to Bogota. At the terminal I stepped into my assigned role as interpreter, negotiator and bargainer for the four ladies and I as none of them spoke sufficient Spanish. So we caught a bus to notorious Cali on a relatively easy-going road. There we rapidly transferred to a mini-bus to Popayan for a journey which subsequently made up for the previous lack of winding roads.

We arrived in Popayan and Janet and I walked to the hostel to meet the others. Then we set out to explore the colonial beauty of the white-washed town centre. We found a great quaint vegetarian restaurant run by lovely staff who fed us heartily with all kind of treats for $1.60. Awesome! Then Claire led us on a tour of the town`s many churches, including one with more Jesus porn - I didn`t know he was a sadist! - you can`t quite see properly because the photo (true to vintage porn form) is blurry but his left hand is sinfully positioned.

We had crepes for dinner and then hit the hay. Then next morning I rose early in search of salvation. I miss you, Jesus!!!!! But a decent latte was not to be found. Saying goodbye to Janet we descended for another mini-bus journey to Pasto and Ipiales. This was punishing. We had a 1hr flat tyre delay and endured 7 out of 9 hrs of twisting roads and heavy accelerator/brake alternation. Colombia seems endlessly mountainous. The mountains did make for spectacular semi-desert and dry forest scenery. After a long wait and change of mini in Pasto, we pushed on for Ipiales. Gigantic drops fell away below us as the driver pushed the limits. We finally arrived in Ipiales, found our cheap but welcoming hotel and unloaded. That evening we ate at a surprisingly good local pizza/burger joint with gusto. For dessert I had a banana split. With cheese. LOTS of cheese. And no, it wasn`t a tasty surprise like vegemite and honey sandwiches. It was as bad as it sounds.

The next day we arose relatively early to visit the Las Lajas Sanctuary, a large and ornate cathedral built into the rock face where Mary`s face appeared to someone many years ago. Pretty cool, the coolest thing being it was built at the bottom of a steep river gorge. After that a quick double taxi transfer to find ourselves quite suddenly in Ecuador. Without ANY border formalities. It seems our few Irishmen short of a singalong taxi driver didn`t really know what was going on. So we hiked back across the border bridge to wait over an hour for the Colombian people to say yes you can go now. Thanks. The Ecuadorian entry was relatively easy and we then taxied ourselves to the mayhem of Tulcan bus terminal to bargain for ridiculously cheap fares to Quito. The 5hr bus ride cost $4.50!! Then to settle down on a smoothish journey and watch the rich Ecuadorian countryside slide by with barely a trace of native vegetation and a whole lot of Blue Gum running seriously amok. While an Antonio Banderas trilogy screened we journey through Ibarra and Otavalo - I had to stop to go the the loo in Ibarra and was bitten by a $·&&·% dog¡¡ Not badly, but it drew a tiny speck of blood; enough for my British friends to insist I visit a doctor once in Quito. We arrived a caught a taxi to our gringofied suburb of Mariscol and settled in to our hostel - it had been a marathon journey.

Salento - Cocora Valley: 12/03 - 15/03

My first day in the poster child town of the famous coffee growing region of Colombia we went to Valley Cocora, a lush landscape of freisians, gums and green, green grass. Sven and I rode the back foot stand and held on to some of the many Jesus-bars of our jeep. Upon arriving we checked the map and set out with Janet into the dairy farms alongside the valley`s river. The world`s tallest palms, the Quindío Wax Palm Tree (Ceroxylon quindiuense) is also a high-altitude adapted palm. They soared above the plantation pine and eucalyptus, but only to an altitude of about 2700m, where it and other palms, ferns, vines and big trees were slowly replaced by simpler cloud forest.

We crossed the river several times on our trek through the luxurious vegetation of overgrown weeds and highland rainforest. After a good hike including wild strawberries, waterfalls and Indian Jones-style bridges we came to a crossroads - Sven and I decided to push on uphill another 5km to Estrella de Aguas, while Janet said she would come part way with us but for us not to wait for her as she might hold us back. OK. So we pushed ahead up the steeeep slopes and were passed by some `mule-trains` - a group of horses or mules with cargo being driven from behind by a herder. In this case they were being pushed mercilessly up a very steep hill. But what were they carrying¿ Gravel and concrete for a refugio high in the hills at Estrella. We continued to a hut overlooking the surrounding valleys and peaks and had a leisurely lunch.

After setting off again we soon discovered Janet ahead of us. She had continued on without stopping and overtaken us! The next 3km or so until we reached an apex was again very steep. The sign told us we were at 3140m and had only 30m to ascend and 2km to walk to our destination. Easy as. Bep buerrh. Uuup, dowwn, uup, dowwn. By the time we reached the gorgeous valley that was Estrella de Aguas I was knackered. Amazingly enough Janet was only a few minutes behind us - a great effort at that altitude. We sat, refuelled and soaked up the mountain energy as the clouds swirled around us.

The journey back was heavy, descending steep slopes isn`t my forte... We saw some cool red birds and an incredible hummingbird with a beak as long as its 10cm body. On the way back down we met up with a herd of more internationals and I managed to stumble back to Cocora, blood sugar falling and consequently hackles rising. What might be my answer to that¿ Exactly; a visit to the House of Jesus.

Jesus Martin Bedoya, that is. I had a locally-grown espresso topped with whipped cream and a slab of rich chocolate cake. And then a hot mocha. Yeeeha! High-beam on. Well this is one of the world`s premier coffee growing regions and I certainly came intending to indulge a little.

After a seriously disturbed night`s sleep I had a great second day in Salento - we did a tour of Tim our hostel owner`s organic coffee farm where he intends to enter the ultra-boutique coffee market. He imparted on us many interestingly caffeinated facts and showed us the coffee process from seed to ready to roast. His farm was indeed biological, growing bananas, citrus and avocados amongst others and his 4 types of coffee. After that Sven and I realised it was Sunday. The Sabbath. We had forgotten!! Better dedicate the day to Jesus once again. At his house we were joined by other Plantation House backpackers for conversation and general excitement. Next we ate delicious local whole trout in Creole salsa and explored the town`s over-priced and generally tacky tourist stores.

In all of Colombia that weekend it was a `dry`weekend - no sale or consumption of alcohol allowed due to the senate elections. But while this rule was slightly bendable depending on your interpreter, the usual racquetry of Colombian weekend nightlife fizzled to a flop and backpackers stay in-house to drink. I had managed to organise a travel party for the southward journey - Janet, myself, Claire from Scotland and Abby and Hannah from London. The next morning we departed early from the lucklustre and schizophrenic Plantation House to head to Ecuador.