Detour in Ecuador
After crossing the border from Peru
I took a detour in Ecudaor
Changed some money,
Saw the road sign and thought,
"Why not? I will not be here again."
Then slipped off the highway.
Prior to my diversion I sought the usual, useless assurances
And asked a man pushing an ice-cream cart whether the quieter road was also paved.
"Todo es aspahalto" he cheerfully confirmed.
And unusually it was, but it twisted, writhed and squirmed.
I rode through beautiful fertile valleys
Punctuated by sleepy restrained villages.
Far more timid than their brasher Peruvian cousins,
With inappropriate spikey names like James Bond villains;
Sozoranga, Cariamanga, Gonzanama.
Mr Malloch, we do not expect you to talk. We expect you to climb.
Although each day I did not travel as far as I had hoped,
It did not seem to matter.
Two days earlier sitting under a citrus tree
Seeking refuge from a fierce afternoon sun I met Ian from Oregon.
I sat down and shared his shade.
As is the usual custom with Gringos on the road,
For a few minutes we enjoyed each others English.
Like me, he had set off from the southern tip
Full Text Entry: Trujillo (Peru) to Ibarra (Ecuador)