Vilcabamba - Pig Death and Horse Love


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South America » Ecuador » South » Vilcabamba
July 25th 2008
Published: August 1st 2008
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So I said the hostel in Vilcabamba was a poor choice. Allow me to explain. It was a fairly standard 5 USD each for a double room with shared bathroom. Aside from the fact that someone appeared to have written the word ´LIE´ in their own blood on one of the bed sheets, it was ok. Then, just as we were getting to sleep, the screaming started. Peering cautiously out of the window, we realised that someone outside was slaughtering pigs, then cooking them with a flame thrower. At 2am on a Sunday. I know this sounds unlikely, but it is perfectly true. Surely pigs burned whole with flame throwers can´t even taste particularly nice? There are some things about this country I will never understand. So this continued for many hours, the sounds of pigs screaming followed by pig death, then the woosh of flame throwers and the distinct aroma of petrol and burning flesh. Unfortunately this isn´t even the first time I have been awoken by the sounds of animal slaughter while travelling in another country, so I just stuffed in earplugs and went to sleep. Kit is a more sensitive and moral soul that I, he doesn´t even eat pork because pigs are such intelligent animals. I think he may have been somewhat more traumatised.

The next morning we tried to have a wash and found the most impressively deadly shower yet. Most of the electricity in south america has been pretty DIY. I have had one moderate electric shock so far and have come across a lot of water / wiring combos that didn´t look particularly safe, but this is the first one I´ve seen that I´ve been pretty confident was definitely going to kill the next person to use it. Check out the photo on Kit´s blog. I don´t know if you can see, but water from the shower was spraying directly onto the bare, uninsulated wires.

We made a rapid exit from the Pig Death hostel, and after two nights of no sleep decided to treat outselves to somewhere more expensive. We went to Ischicaluma hostel, which is truly awesome. It´s set in lovely gardens up in the hills overlooking the village, with a swimming pool and everything you could possibly wish for. We had a private wooden cabin, glass fronted with stunning views over the hills, our own terrace with a hammock and a lovely, non injurous bathroom made out of pretty stones, so I could pretend I was showering in a cave. It was over our budget but still only about 9 GBP each.

After spending one day sleeping, enjoying our luxurious surroundings and pretending to be rich, we set off early the next morning to climb a small nearby hill / mountainette. The hostal kindly provided us with a map detailing a 4 hour circuit, so armed with this and some sturdy walking sticks we set off up the path. The climb up was very steep, narrow and generally dodgy in places, but the views were well worth it. As usual my substandard photography does not do it justice. We came across all manor of horrifically large insects, as well as huge condors just chilling out on the tops of the hills. The trail was conveniantly marked with orange dots spray painted on rocks and trees. Unfortunrely there was a type of orange lichen which grew in the exact same shape and colour as the trail markers. Check out the photo, see if you can tell the difference. We couldn´t. After a while Kit decided he didn´t want to go the nice, sensible way marked on the map and made up his mind that it would be quicker to get back to the village by going down a different ridge. This was definitely (though he denies it) the ridge distinctly marked on the map DO NOT GO DOWN THIS RIDGE. We went down the ridge. At first it seemed almost as though it might have been a good idea, then the path disappeared, the barbed wire fences became more frequent, and the fire ants attacked. After a very, very long time we could hear the road but not see it, and had to spend the last 20 minutes thrashing our way through the undergrowth with sticks. I suffered somewhat more than Kit during this adventure because I was wearing shorts, so my legs were bleeding a fair amount, but it was still fun, aside from the incidet with the spider thicket, which I still don´t feel ready to talk about.

That same day I tried horse riding for the first time. My experience of horses had been limited to a brief encounter with a pony as a child, as I had always just assumed that horseriding was a hobby exclusively for posh people who like to dress up like bellends and hurt small animals. Wrong. Despite my total lack of previous experience and the fact that I had only a sombrero as protective headgear, we were galloping across the hills and through rivers in no time. It was ACE. At first I was utterly terrified, too scared to let go and fix my hat, which had fallen off and was hanging from neck by a cord, twisting around in the wind, gradually strangling me. After about 20 minutes though I´d decided that horseriding was my new favourite thing ever, and insisted that the next day we do a full day horseback trek up into the cloud forest.

Our guide was a genuine cowboy, a four times rodio champion called Mauricio. I love him. How can you not be impressed by a man who dresses like a marlbourough advert and has survived being trampelled by a bull? Exactly. The horses were capable of some pretty crazy stuff, happily clambering up steep little paths where I wouldn´t have imagined a person could make it, then galloping across the tops of the mountains on narrow ledges. Maurico was in total control of the horses at all times, if he whistled they would gallop and there was nothing we could do about it aside from hold on. It was a very effective way for me to learn, as I had to pick it up quickly or plumet to my death. Kit clearly fulfilled a childhood fantasy by galloping through a field of angry cows wearing a ridiculous hat, flicking at them with a rope whilst shouting YEEHAAA. We had a little hike around in the cloud forest, admired a pretty waterfall then made our way back to town. At great speed. I enjoyed it so much more than I thought I would. Afterwards we had a lovely massage (well I had I lovely massage, Kit likened it to being runover by a truck made of fists, looks like massage lady didn´t like him) and played pool with Mauricio in the bar. A good day.

Vilcabamba was gorgeous and I could have stayed there pretty much indefinitely, but the time had come to head off to Peru...


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