A last look at Puerto Lopez

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Geo: -2.20382, -79.8975

So we're enjoying the evening on the Mandala's beautiful veranda--soft ocean breezes, pounding waves, flaming sunset--you know the usual, and we're trying to decide what to do next. We'd made a reservation in a bigger city north of here called Manta thinking we'd keep enjoying this heavenly sunshine for a few more days before returning to cold, high Quito and heading home when we about face...again.

We're off to Peru.

Peru was beyond our budget for weeks because the flights there are so dang expensive, but we found one that didn't quite kill us so we're off to Cusco the 29th. Cusco, at 11,000 feet!

For you Montanan's, that's higher than Beartooth Pass and within 600 feet of Granite Peak. It's freakin' far.

We left Puerto Lopez in a dash to catch the "nice" bus an hour south at Olon, but as is usual, Ecuador got in the way. The pretty well beaten up bus we usually travel the coast in was flying around a corner when we hear a crash and a bunch of people jump up and start yelling and waving their arms.

What the?? Nobody was hurt but everybody was yelling. What happened was as the bus careened around the corner (waaaaay too fast) one of the luggage compartments below swung open and bags were helter skelter all over the highway behind us.

As it turned out, there were paving stones--like for-a-road paving stones--in the compartment. That tremendous weight thrown against the door snapped it open like it wasn't there.

The interesting thing is that these people do things in a different manner. Who would think of taking paving stones on a bus ride? There were 4 or 5 bags of those pavers--total weight of about 1,000 lbs and they had to be hauled back into the bus by the passengers.

Our luggage, thankfully, was in a forward compartment.

Bob & I did a good job of watching.

The whole show cost us our connecting bus in Olon, but as we were sitting in a little cafe waiting Bob made friends with this skinny little man who insisted on being helpful. He really wanted us to have the bus directo--nice bus--but the next one required a 3 hour wait, so we hopped back on another trusty local bus, hoping this driver would be in a little less of a hurry. It was crammed with so many people in the aisle you couldn't breath. Hot, sweaty, dirty, crowded, cramped--welcome to Ecuador. The people were so nice tho--the minute we stepped on they were giving up their seats for us.

We're in Guayaquil now at a lovely guesthouse on a hill, in our own tropical hide-away. It's a gorgeous home turned hosteria and it's great to see another side of this big, polluted, ugly city.

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Photos

Futbol on the beach
Players don't seem to be distracted by trucks or families on their field.

Futbol on the beach
No out of bounds markers on the ocean side. The waves determine the out of bounds.

Futbol on the beach
Families sit all along the beach watching the games.

Our road into Puerto Lopez from the Mandala
At high tide you can't get through--or if it rains. It was blocked the whole week we were here.