Recuperation


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South America » Ecuador » Centre » Chimborazo
October 10th 2014
Published: October 14th 2014
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I awoke with the sun, in a small but comfortable room with a concrete floor and a bamboo roof, covered thankfully by a corrugated metal roof. It had rained some during the night, but I says totally unaware, except perhaps in my dreams. I had slept "como un tronco", like a tree trunk, the Spanish equivalent of like a log. The power was still off when I got out of bed, so I splashed some cold water on my face and spent the time until breakfast examining the status of my once lost but now found luggage. With the exception of a couple of things saturated with honey, everything else was intact. I rearranged my belongings, separating what remained of my clean clothes from those in need of a good cleaning, which consisted of items of both the stinky, sweaty and sticky, sweet variety. Laundry would have to wait, unless I wanted to wash my clothes in the stream that flowed just beside the main pavilion, and hang them to dry on the bushes nearby. I did pull out my shaving cream and razor and did the cold water shaving thing. I then dressed and headed out to check out the eco-farm.

The farm was a small affair, dedicated to sustainable farming and environmentally conscious tourism. There were chickens and ducks around, as well as a calf tied up in the yard off the attractive farmhouse that sat nearby. In addition to a number of lodging facilities, there was an area for tents under a row of clear plastic tarps (a sensible idea, in my estimation), as well as an open-air restaurant where breakfast would be served and lunches and dinners were hosted. There was also a building with bathrooms and showers, another pavilion with tables, a large TV, and a ping-pong table. There was also a large outdoor kitchen just up the hill from the dining pavilion. Dotted throughout the area were awnings with hammocks strung up underneath. Oh, and the stream! An absolutely picturesque stream rushed right by the dining facility. I dipped my hand in the water and it was as cold as the water I had shaved in earlier. All in all a very delightful place to spend some quality downtime.

Breakfast was finally served around 9:15, though I had been told the night before that it was served promptly at 8:30. It consisted of some delicious rolls, berry jam,coffee and some delicious fresh squeezed apple juice. There was another large group staying at the farm; what appeared to be two families with younger children. Another table was being set up for a large group, and just as I finished eating two cars packed with people pulled up and they ballooned out and made their way to the dining pavilion. Ricardo, the owner had told me that a trek to a nearby waterfall was on tap for the afternoon, and they would be preparing a picnic lunch. Cost was $6.00. At first I considered joining in on the fun, but since clouds were rolling in and it looked like rain, I decided to pack up and see if I could get back into town and catch a bus to my next destination, the town of Milagro.

Since Pallatanga did not have a bus station, Ricardo took me to the main highway where he said I could flag down a bus. He dropped me off in front of a restaurant called El Chinito's. The parking lot was full of cars and trucks, but no buses. In addition to El Chinito's, the roadside was lined with small stands offering boiled corn on the cob, called choclo, as well as bits of roasted pork. The food smelled and looked delicious, but I didn't want to risk tummy trouble while riding on a bus, so I fought off the impulse to try some of the pork and corn.

The first two buses that passed were not going to Milagro, and the third, which was, was completely full. He didn't even slow down, the ticket taker just yelled "NO ASIENTO" as they passed. After about an hour I was beginning to become concerned, but my mind was diverted by the actions of some people behind one of the nearby buildings. A large pig was rooting around the yard, seemingly oblivious to the interest of the people around it. A young man with a large blue plastic bag started to try to put the bag over the pig's head, but the grumpy hog was having none of it. A spirited chase ensued, with a crowd of onlookers cheering on the pig or man by turns. Two older men standing near me offered their opinion that the guy chasing the pig should have had a rope or lasso, and that the pig would never submit to having its head shoved in a bag.

Finally with the help of a half dozen kids, and one of the ladies from one of the food stands, the pig was cornered between a small pumphouse and the other building, and the pig commenced to squealing. At this point, the real intention of the young man and the food vendor was clear, as the woman produced a huge butcher knife and tried to slash the throat of the pig. I was concerned that blood other than the pig's was going to be shed, as it thrashed around and almost knocked the young man to the ground. Finally, the combination of the blue death hood and the sharp knife got the best of the pig, and it succumbed to the energetic actions of the young man. All the kids who were involved in the process squealed and jumped and clapped in competition with the pig, and a couple of teenage girls involved ran off in mock fear. At last the pig gave one last trembling squeal, and fell dead to the ground. The corn and roast pork meal didn't seem as appetizing after watching this drama.

A couple of buses bound in the opposite direction of Riobamba pulled up, and unloaded their passengers for a comfort break and the opportunity to get some snacks. It started to rain, and things were looking grim for El Mundo Vagabundo. Another south-bound bus with a placard that read MILARGO in its front window pulled up and unloaded passengers. The driver and ticket-taker exited the bus even before all the passengers, so I stood nearby for another 15 mins before passengers started returning. It was still raining lightly when the bus crew returned and I asked "Vas a Milagro?, but the driver just shook his head and said "No hay asiento". I gathered my now wet luggage and started back for the roadside, when a voice behind me called out "SEÑOR! I turned to find the ticket taker motioning me over. He took my bags, placed them in the luggage compartment beneath the bus, then directed me to sit in the seat next to the driver. He then jumped into the folddown seat in the stairwell and like that we were on our way to Milagro. The driver said that I could sit next to him until we got to Bucay (wherever that was), where I should be able to move to the back. I got to sit in the best seat of the bus till we got to Bucay, about and hour later. It rained most of the way into Milagra, but cleared up when we got out of the mountains. In the lowlands, we started to pass cacao farms, sugar cane plantings, and banana plantations, as well as many other small farms and nurseries. At one point we stopped and picked up six men who were wielding large machetes, but not to worry, they were only cane or banana harvesters on their way home from work. We pulled into the station around six p.m., and I quickly found a taxi to my hotel.

When i had told Ecuadorians that I was going to Milagro, they all asked why. There were no tourist attractions in Milagro, nothing to see, nothing to do. I told them that was exactly why I wanted to go there. To see what everyday Ecuador was like, without all the tourist shops and distractions..errr..attractions. each person I told this to seemed to look at me in a new light, and became very interested in my trip.

The hotel I was in was like something out of the 30's. A very modest facade, with a small walk up vestibule, but once you got up to the upper floors, it was quite elegant, with marble floors, brocaded fabric walls, formal sitting rooms, and a small well-appointed bar that was closed. At first they couldnt find my reservation, but they finally worked things out and let me register. The charge was eight dollars less than my original reservation, so I couldn't complain. For $24.00 I got a huge room with a king-size bed, and a separate bathroom suite, satellite TV, and a refrigerator and microwave to boot. The furniture looked like it belonged on a Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall movie set.

After a quick shower, I went out in search of dinner. I ended up at a grill that specialized in chicken...go figure...and I was lucky enough to spend dinner watching the USA- Ecuador soccer game with about 20 rabid soccer fans, all supporting Ecuador of course. They were a good natured crowd and didn't glower too much when I would cheer at a particularly good play by the US. When Equator came back and tied things up with 2 mins in regulations play, I offered my congratulations and they were happy. When the game ended with a 1-1 draw, we shook hands all around. As I paid my check the owner of the place said that the beer was on him, so El Mundo Vagabundo left the place in a happy mood. I didn't even bother to take a taxi back to my hotel.

After an interesting walk back amongst street vendors, people closing up shop, and garbage men making their rounds, I got back to my hotel around 8 pm. Since I was at the far back of the hotel, well away from traffic on the busiest street in town, I did not hear any traffic noise all...and the bed was very comfortable. I slept like a prince!

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