The Slow Train South


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South America » Ecuador » Centre » Riobamba
December 19th 2007
Published: December 31st 2007
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The real fat controllersThe real fat controllersThe real fat controllers

You know you want to buy one of those caps
Matt writes:


Today, a chilly 5.30 start to get to the nearby station and climb aboard an antiquated train that would take us south through some great scenery. Our backpacks were stowed in a locker in one of the carriages which would mean we could relax and enjoy the trip. Although it would not however prevent the barrage of refreshment sales as an army of vendors selling coffee, chocolates, fruit and crisps boarded and alighted the train with their wares. I enduldged in a coffee/muddy water to make me more sociable but even with this in hand, I was offered at least 10 more!


With a sudden jerk the train moved off clumsily as we collected another carriage from a siding, moving back and forth from our original location for what seemed about half an hour. Eventually we were on our way, and the town of Riobamba gave way to the countryside. Agave plants lined the sidings as fields behind undulated in waves, farming this land was by no means easy. The trickling stream that followed the track would soon develop into rushing white water, foaming rocks smooth and carving ravines that deepened as the journey progressed. Mountains folded mountains as we left behind dusty prarie rattling lazily along.


Sitting on top of the carriage, the view improves to its full panarama though hats and layers were essential before the midday sun. Last year, every carriage roof would of been occupied by gringos enjoying this abandon to health and safety but after a death in 2006 from a traveller falling off the train, local officials were not too happy with this activity. However, now with side railings and seats, one carriage could once more facilitate this bizzare activity.


Two things that will stick in my mind from the journey above the wonderful view, were all the local kids waving frantically as the train passed them, and dogs who would run out of their homes or stop their day job of herding sheep to chase the train barking in a "and donĀ“t come back again" manner.
After a brief stop for food and local crafts, we head towards the Devil's Nose where the track clings onto the mountain with a vertical drop of a couple of hundred feet. Such is the gradient that the train goes through two switchbacks before reaching the bottom of the valley.


The train derailed on the return journey (which is apparently quite common) but nothing that the drivers could not fix with some rocks and sticks. This was only supassed in my mind by their attempts at selling passengers the rather Village People-esque leather engine caps. A truly memorable journey finished off by a gruelling 5 hour bus connection to Cuenca accompanied by a very pirate edition of Rush Hour II (audience laughter and sillouetted heads included). This was kindly followed by Rush Hour III (this time in English).

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