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Published: November 22nd 2008
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Breathless
Us, not you I am sure. Going higher needed fat suits and ice-picks - SO unflattering - so we didn´t! Forced to abandon hope of getting the included breakfast from the hostal on our last day here, we wandered into Sunday morning Quito to see what we could scrounge for ourselves. Having been here a few days now, we boldly shunned Gringo-Town as the 8 or so blocks of the city dedicated to the backpacker-that-can-only-speak-english set are known, and went local.
Too local as it turned out - having spotted a place with outdoor seating in the sun, it was quickly apparent that cafe con leche, naranja juice and huaevos ( our combined Spanish words for breakfast being coffee, oj and eggs) fell somewhat short of what the proprietor needed!! Nonetheless, tertiary qualifications in smiling, gesticulating and nodding got us a seat, buns something like croissants and a cup of hot water and another cup of hot milk. And, curiously, a tray of cutlery for what we knew not.......
Only 5 minutes later, two plates of casseroled(?) chicken and rice arrived, which prompted the question in the title, neither of us remembering that we uttered "pollo" whilst seeking scrambled eggs! Maybe we butchered the language to the degree that our attempt at eggs came out as egg-maker?? Whilst it
Quilotoa Crater
Five hours at 3200 to 3800 metres was enough to warrant the consumption of nearly 500 grams of chocolate. The resident Indians farm potatoes at these heights and on similar slopes..... was an unusual start to the day, it got smiles from all concerned so not a complete disaster... and cheap at $3.50 for the lot, so that alone kept the Finance Agent well pleased.
The last two days we indulged in hiring a guide and a 4wd to get out of the city and see some more of this wonderous land. Flicking through the options on offer at the gringo-shops, we decided we needed to see volcanoes, given that is what the country is mostly made up of. We were soon met by Wilson, an ex-military (para!) instructor and duly set of to visit Cotopaxi, one of the higher volvanoes within a few hours of the city.
The country-side is absolutely covered in Eucalyptus (gum trees for the uneducated readers amongst you) which makes the place look in parts a lot like Australia. Quite disconcerting. The beauty of having your own guide is that you can ask all sorts of dumb questions with complete immunity from the disdain of others, so we did. The trees turned out to be a consequence of a gift from the Australian Prime Minister to the Ecuadorian president in 1905 - an example
Mountain agriculture
Still don´t lnow how they do it - and imagine bringing the crops in! of good intentions gone slightly awry - the trees do provide lots of lovely straight wood for building as intended, and make wonderful fuel for fires, BUT have gone slightly mad in this warm, wet and fertile climate and spread everywhere to the detriment of local flora and (I suspect) the appearance of the country too. The locals are quite amazed that cutting them down or burning them has no apparent effect on their proliferation (cant keep a good Aussie down I said! Wilson didnt get the humour ;-) ) and are resigned to their somewhat Aussified landscape!
Cotopaxi is actually the centrepiece of its own national park, so we also got to see the ravines created when it last blew up and melted the resident glacial ice cap on top - my understanding of what Wilson said was the these 200ft deep gorges were created as the water rushed to the sea, making it there in only 45 minutes!
Wilson then drove us up the side of the mountain, necessitating 4WD low-range as the track was really just graded ash, ground up pumice and scraps of gravel. We stopped at the end, leaping out full of enthusiasm
Road to somewhere
Roads in the Andes suffer excessively from landslides and are often in this state. Not so bad when the earth falls onto the road, more interesting when the road falls down the valley - and there was plenty of that too.... to climb further up to the refuge shelter (built for proper mountaineers to ascend to the summit) and almost collapsed on the ground from the lack of oxygen - the carpark was at 4500m altitude! Recovering the shredded remains of our dignity, we set off on the 1km trek toward the refuge up a sand like slope of about 35 degrees, in the clouds and cold. Soon we knew what a 3 pack of Marlboro Red a day habit must feel like, as we ascended 10 metres in vertical height between rests, hearts doing double-time, lungs feeling like they were the size of teabags. Not to be defeated we made the refuge at 4800m, where we were lucky enough to sight an alpine fox. Turning for home, kitted in our best outdoor gear and completely knackered, we were somewhat amazed to see a mature lady pass us on the way up, seemingly breezing up the slope in loafers, a pashmina and suitable-for-going-to-church suit!
We then drove a few hours further south to overnight in a hostal next to Quilotoa Crater where we were to walk the following day. Going to bed at 3800m, we discovered our hosts had not
Sunset on the Napo
The locals get around in these, poling them along in the shallows. Gringos like us had long-boats with outboards.... made allowances for soft westerners like us and the bedroom was COMPLETELY UNHEATED and there was no red wine ! There were seven layers of blankets on the bed, despite which our nightwear of choice consisted of two t-shirts and a sweater each, thermafleece caps and, horror of horrors - bed socks, an item of clothing I abhor in all but exceptional cases!! I am sure my colleagues from t'north will tut at this reaction, but remember we are at heart cappucino drinking Southerners !!
Amazingly we slept the night through reasonably undisturbed, arising for breakfast and a short trip to the craters edge by 8.30 the next morning. The circuit took us 5 hours, climbing and descending the contours of the ragged rim, often with a precipitous slope on one if not both sides for much of the hike. Again, the altitude knocked our pre-supposed fitness into a hat and several stops had to be made along the way, some being taken as an opportunity to snack on the predominantly sugar-laced treats Wilson had supplied.
For the last kilometre we were joined by three local lads of 10 or so, depressingly skipping, running and jumping as we slogged back to our start point. Even their blo%dy dog was smiling at us as we snailed along! We unloaded all our uneaten chocolate, cookies and muffins on the boys, to be greeted with cheshire cat-like grins and a string of Spanish that Wilson told us was thanks and great pleasure.
Interestingly, they ate none of it, stashing it all into their pockets in lieu. When asked, Wilson told us this was because it was their custom to always share with their families all that they had. Cue sudden reflection that just as our leftovers were their windfall, our lives of plenty were probably unimaginable to them, that their bedrooms are always unheated and that electricity, never mind travelling was a luxury item beyond their expectations. It was a quiet trip back to Quito, relieved only by the discovery of more chocolate in the 4WD, the local confection being heavy on the cocoa but not quite dark chocolate as such. A little chocolate it turns out makes a long trip more bearable - wish I had appreciated that for all those London to home trips!!
And finally on Sunday we met our travelling companions for the first overland stage - 11 of us in total, all either Brits, Canadians or Aussies except a sole Dutch girl. Even the driver/mechanic is a Brit and the Tour Leader an Aussie - called, beleive it or not, Digger. Crikey!
We gain a few more people in La Paz in a couple of weeks, but until then there will be plenty of room to spread out in the truck. Don't know when we'll see another internet point as it is off to the Ecquadorian Amazon jungle next, but sure we will have more to report soon.
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clare
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you are brave souls...
Wow, very much enjoying reading of your mishaps...adventures. Seriously, you are so much more adventurous than I ever good be. Roughing it for our last holiday involved relenting and partaking of the Winnie the Pooh ride!! Ray and I are certainly going soft in our old age and enjoy hot and cold everything as we travel (albeit, very infrequently). Looking forward to the next chapter.... Love the Clarkes.