Between Worlds in Ecuador

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Today I write in between worlds. From the Guayaquil bus station to be exact, half way between lofty Cuenca and the mellow Pacific coast. These two places couldn't be more different, both in attitude and aesthetic - one is proud and proper, a true colonial city with churches and plazas on every corner; the other is seductively hedonistic, where hippie culture and the party scene colide, and your biggest conundrum of the day is which type of fruity cocktail to order on the beach.

Cuenca is a true Beauty. Situated on a small river and adorned with gorgeous architecture, clean cobbled streets and quirky street art, this is the kind of colonial capital I had wanted Quito to be. I spent a lot of my time just wandering around, soaking up the atmosphere. To put the cherry on top, I stumbled upon a small festival with dancers celebrating bread, of all things. The men wore chaps made of long alpaca fur, cream colored hats, and crimson ponchos. The women were decked out in bright, pleated skirts of purples, tangerines, and jungle greens, set against bleach-white blouses. Their skirts splayed like toy tops as they spun flirtatiously around their partners. Lonely Planet would have described it as "traditional," and "a delightfully local affair." Needless to say I was lapping it up.

Cajas National Park is the other highlight of the area - the landscape struck me as eerie, almost surreal with its moorlike hills, windswept craigs, and spongy texture underfoot. So spongy that despite the Wellies I was wearing, I still managed to step into a mud pit that claimed most of my leg and tried to keep my boot. We hiked around lagoons and over rugged terrain, and through a forest with trees that looked as though they were constructed from layers of tissue paper.

The road to the coast goes throught Cajas, and as we descended from the mists the moores gave way to pure, unfiltered color. Fields of banana trees practically oozed chlorophyll they were so saturated with green. The lowlands were an orgy of color - bright yellow parakeets, orange and black butterflies, and fushia petals seemed invigorated by the thick tropical air and bursted with energy and light.

The difference in attitude was also immediately apparent upon reaching the the coast of Montanita: No shirt, No shoes, No problem. It's the sort of place where the most buttoned-up 9-5er might find himself picking out designs for a tribal tattoo. The best part about Montanita (besides the fabulous beach) is the people watching: a bizarre mix of hard core hippies, surfer dudes, locals, skanky party chicks, and backpackers all converge in this one small town to make merry for a week, a month, or a lifetime. Though this is by no means the "real" Ecuador, I ended up really liking the place and, like many a traveller before me, got stuck there for nearly a week. It's geared towards tourists, brash, and expensive, but once I let myself enjoy it for what it is, I felt my heartrate slow to just above a cadaver pace and I was buying an "I 'heart' Montanita" shirt by the end of it.

After four weeks in Ecuador, I am finally heading to Peru for Inca ruins, trekking, and guinea pig. Stay tuned!

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