My tour has certainly lived up to its description so far. It said it was "active", and active it has been! In true South American style, we began the tour with a bit of excitement when our public bus to Cotopaxi was stopped and searched by about 12 armed policemen. Apparently they'd recieved information that there might have been an armed and dangerous man on our bus. Fortunately, it seemed to be incorrect and we were allowed to continue. The Canadians and yanks in the group were a little perturbed!
First up was two days of mountain biking. Having never actually been mountain biking before, this was a pretty extreme introduction! Day one began at the car park of the refuge from which we had begun our climb attempt a few weeks before. Only this time we were going DOWN the mountain side, and it's bloody steep! My fear of heights, and sharp rocky/sandy corners at high speed, returned and I soon got sore hands from over-using my breaks! But having effectively been training at altitude for about a month meant that I easily overtook the others on the uphills. The next day we took a route in the province of Chimborazo, the highest mountain in Ecuador at over 6000m. The tracks were even steeper, rockier and narrower - my hands were in agony! I was glad of the oxygen-sapping uphills to give my hands a break! It was great fun though. Our mountain biking guide, Edison, was a really interesting guy too. Also a vegetarian, I walmed to him instantly! With his athletic physique, long flowing dark hair and beautifully intense eyes, he could have walked right out of a movie about the Amazon - or the native American Indians, I'm not sure which - as the wise and benevolent indigenous hero. Wish we could have had more than 2 days with him!
In comparison to the almost jurassic scenery of the Cotopaxi National Park, the countryside in Chimborazo is just beautiful - rolling hills covered in a patchwork of fields, small woods, and babbling streams, with sheep, cattle and horses everywhere. Chimborazo has the highest percentage of indigenous people, and along every road we cycled we passed classic examples of the people of the Andes. I hadn't really believed that people really still dressed in bright green thick pleated skirts, thick blue stockings, purple ponchos and black pudding-shaped hats, but they really do. And how cute the little girls look in their miniature versions! They looked as they do in the postcards, with their pleated dark hair and red-flushed cheeks, often struggling up a hillside carrying a bale of guinea-pig feed.
Some of the group, having flown into Quito only a day or 2 earlier, really struggled with the altitude. Adrian, a Canadian in his mid-30s, had it the worst, despite seeming the most prepared one could possibly be for this trip. He'd been using altitude sickness medicine (as well as a special water filter, a padded saddle, padded cycling shorts, technical sports wear, a saddle bag...) yet even now, a week later, is still struggling to regain his appetite. But he's shown incredible determination (or maybe, given his diminuitive stature, the symptoms of short-man syndrome?) not to let it stop him from proving how strong and fit he is, and has insisted on fighting his way to the front of the group during the biking and hiking. Definitely a competitor! Most of the others have had a few headaches and coughs, as well as general fatigue, but are doing ok now.
In Chimborazo we stayed in a lower refuge of the Chimborazo volcano, the station house of a now barely used railway line built in the early 1900s by an Englishman. It's an amazing place, a little traditionally-decorated haven of coziness in a cold and bleak environment. Through the windows you just can't miss the snow-capped peak of the volcano, dominating the horizon. Yet inside the log fires and soft lighting make the retreat feel very homely. Outside, I got my first sighting of llamas and alpacas, loosesly tied up like sheep to graze in the grass in the station grounds. So cool! The station is run by the most amazing guy I think I've ever met. Rodrigo is about 50, and has only one and a half lungs after a football accident, but has more fitness, energy and dynamism than any 20-year old I've ever met. He never sits down for more than a minute, and every day goes hiking (if not running) in the mountains. He often climbs Chimborazo more than 2 times a week, ran a marathon a few months ago, and is hoping to go to the Himalayas in the summer. He knows everything there is to know about his local area, and about all of Ecuador for that matter, and has the most fascinating stories - of finding the remains of a passenger plane that had crashed in the glacier of the volcano 23 years earlier, of losing tourists to the various mountains of South America, of an expedition of Belgian doctors conducting a trial of Viagra at altitude... Just an incredible guy.
He was our guide for a little hike up to the glaciers of Chimborazo (I say little, but it proved too much for Adrian, despite his best efforts), as well as for our 3-day trek along the Inca trail to a site of Inca ruins called Ingapirca. It's Ecuador's answer to the Inca trail in Peru and Macchu Pichu. But the best thing about this trek was that we had it entirely to ourselves, with the exception of a smattering of indigenous people and their donkeys we passed along the way. The scenery was just incredible. In fact the road to the starting point was enough to give us all white knuckles. It traversed, with the sharpest of corners, the steepest of mountainsides, affording views not altogether welcome of a deep green pasture-covered valley beneath. It really was spectacular. Our hiking territory was as beautiful. We often followed the path of a river, crossing over stones and waterfalls, bridges and passes. We saw butterflies, hummingbirds, falcons and an incredible array of wild flowers and orchids - all of which Rodrigo could name and describe, naturally. I got to practise my Spanish with the guides a little too. It was hard going at times, but easy by Cotopaxi standards. Not for the unaccalimatised, though, some of whom found it very tough. It was well worth it though, and the Inca site at the end of our long trek was really interesting. The camping was less fun. Although, with the strong ecuatorial sun, the days were warm despite the altitude, the nights were definitely not. Even with 2 sleeping bags, and three girls to one tent, I was too cold to get more than a few minutes sleep at a time in either of the two nights. Plus, despite the remoteness of our camps, whether for the chattering of our little pack of donkeys or from the howling wind, it was anything but quiet. It's amazing what they can rustle up for dinner without a kitchen though; the soups were perfect, especially when chilled to the bone!
I'm now in Baños, a charming town nestled in the mountains a little closer to the Amazon bason. We're at about 1,800m here, so breathing is a lot easier! The stairs up to my (unbelievably luxurious... at least by camping standards) hotel room are a doddle, even with my great big backpack! I really want to try and run a marathon or something now, because after all this exercise at 4000m plus, I must be super-fit at sea level! Sadly, it's raining here, but I think that's typical of the cloud forest. Still, it doesn't really matter for the most common leisure activities here - visiting the hot spring baths! Sunday, it seems, is the day when half of Ecuador descends on the hot spring baths of Baños, so at our guide Carlos's recommendation, we went to the thermal spa instead. For $3, I was treated to a bizarre "therapeutic" process. I was shut in a little box of hot steam infused with a sprig of Eucalyptus(with only my head out of the box) for 20 minutes or so, released briefly to be doused with freezing cold water, only to be returned to the steamy inferno for another session. This was repeated for an hour or so, before I was hosed down with more freezing cold water. The guy in charge of the cold water seemed to take great pleasure in making the women scream! After all that sweating, I was pretty dehydrated afterwards, but I felt so relaxed I just wanted a siesta, so it must have worked!
We've got until tomorrow afternoon in Baños. Maybe the hot springs will be less busy tomorrow morning. Though, glutton for punishment, I kind of want to go hiking tomorrow. I also need to replace that jumper I lost last Tuesday night... Tomorrow afternoon, we leave for Tena, a jungle town where we begin our 3 days of rafting on Tuesday morning. It's going to be a pretty sharp contrast to move from the cold, bleak, oxygen deprived heights of 4,000m to the stifling humidity and dense vegetation of the Amazon at less than 1,000m. Not really relishing the prospect of all those mosquitoes and other creepy crawlies...!
Tonight, we're finally getting a night out. We'll be a strange group. There's: Peter, the retired English chemistry professor who studied at Cambridge but has lived most of his life in Canada; Neville, the crazy socialist grandfather from Colorado; 6-feet tall Lisa, a 42 year old boy-scout from Toronto; Tamara, a lovely athletic 29-year old German Swiss; 33 year old Yanna from Denmark (yep, another Dane) who works on a Scandinavian cruise ship; Adrian, the small Canadian dude; and Ki (33, car insurance) and Kati (25, medical student), avid mountain-bikers from Germany on their pre-wedding honeymoon since they can't take the time off after their wedding in May. Add some beer, or 80% proof local sugar cane liquor, and it should be an interesting night...
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Carnaval! Goodbye to Good Friends, and Hello to Adventures New
If Carnaval in Ecuador is tame, I'm almost glad I wasn't in Rio!
Ambato was really fun. I was totally knackered, since I managed to grab only 2 hours sleep on Friday night before getting up at some stupid hour to get the bus in the morning. Despite advertising that every room had a private bathroom and TV, our hostel rooms were about as basic as they came. Marilyn, Aldis and I had to share a double bed, and the only bathroom on our floor was disgusting. Still, it did the job I guess.
On Saturday, the 8 of us (Brad, Guido and three newer girls came too) went for a typical 2-course Ecuadorean lunch for $2 each, and wandered round the town, gawping at the quantity of people in the little town. There was lots going on. Brad really wanted to go see a real bull-fight, so he, Guido and the other girls went along to that whilst squeamish Marilyn, Aldis and I opted out. Instead, for some odd reason, we were persuaded by some girl from the tourist information team to go and visit a bull "show" in a suburb of the town, so we hopped in a taxi (actually it was a lot more difficult than that, with so many people wanting taxis, but it just sounded good).
The place felt miles away from the bustling, modern, touristic centre of Ambato. It was more like a quaint rural village, with a really ramshackle bull ring! The specatator stands, if you can call them that, were being erected by the locals when we arrived, and the van carrying the bulls was just pulling up. The locals were so friendly, it was if they felt honoured to have us there. We were the only tourists around. I really wasn't very confident about the stability of these homemade stands, but we settled down to watch, made welcome by one of the local men who was very keen to explain everything that was happening. It actually wasn't too bad, they seemed to respect the animals and although they did taunt them with their wafting of the capes none of the bulls got hurt. Marilyn and Aldis were even persuaded to have a go in the ring with a female cow! I watched from the dubious security of the stands. Someone had to take the photos, right?!
That night we rejoined the others for dinner. The girls were still pretty shaken up after having to watch several bulls fight to the death. (We made the right choice.) We wandered the town for a while soaking up the atmosphere and getting lost in the crowds. Brad had some friends of his host family that he'd promised to meet up with, so the same group went to some club to meet them. Marilyn, Aldis and I opted to stay with the throngs of Ecuadoreans in the streets. There were hot air balloons (most of which got caught in streetlights and set themselves alight, falling back into the streets ablaze), lots of alcohol, exciting food and crazy crowds squirting lots of carioca. Think a mixture of silly string and hair mousse, and you've got it. After getting absolutely covered by the stuff, we decided it was time to get our own back, so we invested in a few cans. The war began. Such fun! Why don't we have Carnaval?
The next morning there was a procession in the streets, so we had to get up early AGAIN. It was really fun, with lots of interesting and colourful floats, and streams of dancing, singing and instrument-playing locals in colourful costumes. But it was sooo long. I would have fallen asleep had the floor not been so damn uncomfortable to sit on for 5 hours. The rest of the day was spent wandering around and eating lots of ice-cream and cakes, the only way I could discover of staying awake, since there are no coffee shops. Finally, I had to return to Quito in preparation for my tour.
The journey was long and uncomfortable. I managed to hop on a full bus just before it left, so I had to sit in the space reserved for the bus conductor, as did a mother and her 3 small children, who decided that I made a great pillow. But I was so tired that I missed my stop, ended up right in the south of Quito, and had to pay $13 for the taxi to my hotel. Oops. I have also discovered that, somewhere in the journey, I lost my camera. Sooooooo disappointed. I would say that I had it stolen, but I think the likelihood is that it fell out of my bag. Dammit, I was doing so well!
That night and the next morning I met my tour group. I was very excited at the prospect of meeting a bunch of sporty young things, (like me!?) particularly some fit sporty men. I was even a little concerned that they'd be annoying know-it-all pre-uni gappers. So I was disappointed that I was the youngest by a long way. Two of the men are at least 60 and retired! Oh well. In fairness, after getting to know them a bit, they're all good fun and really interesting. Some real characters, not least Neville, a US-hating, factiod-spouting, ponytail-sporting 65 (?) year old yank with the worst-attempted Spanish you've ever heard! Hope I'm not that bad!
Mountain biking first, eek!
Ambato was really fun. I was totally knackered, since I managed to grab only 2 hours sleep on Friday night before getting up at some stupid hour to get the bus in the morning. Despite advertising that every room had a private bathroom and TV, our hostel rooms were about as basic as they came. Marilyn, Aldis and I had to share a double bed, and the only bathroom on our floor was disgusting. Still, it did the job I guess.
On Saturday, the 8 of us (Brad, Guido and three newer girls came too) went for a typical 2-course Ecuadorean lunch for $2 each, and wandered round the town, gawping at the quantity of people in the little town. There was lots going on. Brad really wanted to go see a real bull-fight, so he, Guido and the other girls went along to that whilst squeamish Marilyn, Aldis and I opted out. Instead, for some odd reason, we were persuaded by some girl from the tourist information team to go and visit a bull "show" in a suburb of the town, so we hopped in a taxi (actually it was a lot more difficult than that, with so many people wanting taxis, but it just sounded good).
The place felt miles away from the bustling, modern, touristic centre of Ambato. It was more like a quaint rural village, with a really ramshackle bull ring! The specatator stands, if you can call them that, were being erected by the locals when we arrived, and the van carrying the bulls was just pulling up. The locals were so friendly, it was if they felt honoured to have us there. We were the only tourists around. I really wasn't very confident about the stability of these homemade stands, but we settled down to watch, made welcome by one of the local men who was very keen to explain everything that was happening. It actually wasn't too bad, they seemed to respect the animals and although they did taunt them with their wafting of the capes none of the bulls got hurt. Marilyn and Aldis were even persuaded to have a go in the ring with a female cow! I watched from the dubious security of the stands. Someone had to take the photos, right?!
That night we rejoined the others for dinner. The girls were still pretty shaken up after having to watch several bulls fight to the death. (We made the right choice.) We wandered the town for a while soaking up the atmosphere and getting lost in the crowds. Brad had some friends of his host family that he'd promised to meet up with, so the same group went to some club to meet them. Marilyn, Aldis and I opted to stay with the throngs of Ecuadoreans in the streets. There were hot air balloons (most of which got caught in streetlights and set themselves alight, falling back into the streets ablaze), lots of alcohol, exciting food and crazy crowds squirting lots of carioca. Think a mixture of silly string and hair mousse, and you've got it. After getting absolutely covered by the stuff, we decided it was time to get our own back, so we invested in a few cans. The war began. Such fun! Why don't we have Carnaval?
The next morning there was a procession in the streets, so we had to get up early AGAIN. It was really fun, with lots of interesting and colourful floats, and streams of dancing, singing and instrument-playing locals in colourful costumes. But it was sooo long. I would have fallen asleep had the floor not been so damn uncomfortable to sit on for 5 hours. The rest of the day was spent wandering around and eating lots of ice-cream and cakes, the only way I could discover of staying awake, since there are no coffee shops. Finally, I had to return to Quito in preparation for my tour.
The journey was long and uncomfortable. I managed to hop on a full bus just before it left, so I had to sit in the space reserved for the bus conductor, as did a mother and her 3 small children, who decided that I made a great pillow. But I was so tired that I missed my stop, ended up right in the south of Quito, and had to pay $13 for the taxi to my hotel. Oops. I have also discovered that, somewhere in the journey, I lost my camera. Sooooooo disappointed. I would say that I had it stolen, but I think the likelihood is that it fell out of my bag. Dammit, I was doing so well!
That night and the next morning I met my tour group. I was very excited at the prospect of meeting a bunch of sporty young things, (like me!?) particularly some fit sporty men. I was even a little concerned that they'd be annoying know-it-all pre-uni gappers. So I was disappointed that I was the youngest by a long way. Two of the men are at least 60 and retired! Oh well. In fairness, after getting to know them a bit, they're all good fun and really interesting. Some real characters, not least Neville, a US-hating, factiod-spouting, ponytail-sporting 65 (?) year old yank with the worst-attempted Spanish you've ever heard! Hope I'm not that bad!
Mountain biking first, eek!
Friday, February 16, 2007
Beer Pong, Football and the Women's Prison
Had to say goodbye to everyone at the Academy this weekend. It was really sad, I've had such a good time there and I'm not sure I'll meet such good friends again. But not too sad, because I've got so so much to look forward to, and at the moment I'm definitely a traveller at heart - have to keep moving!
The last week was really fun. The night of beer pong was crazy - we got through a lot of beer and a lot of pong, thanks to Brad's military rule. Obviously, we had to go out afterwards. Jared bought several fishbowls, which were about 3 times the size of the ones I've encountered before. We went to a very gringo bar, and danced very gringo (Marilyn would have been ashamed, but fortunately she wasn't there to endure the spectacle). We even played the ice game. Shameful! I really didn't think I was that drunk, but I realised when I got out of the taxi that walking was a real challenge. I found my scarf halfway up the stairs to my apartment the next day, and I never did find my sweater. Good night! Needless to say, I didn't make it into the school the next morning. I missed the little exchange of paper hearts that had been organised for Valentine's Day - and I even had a Valentine, after Jared asked me to be his Valentine the day before. Whatever that means, exactly, I'm not too sure. Yep, it's stupidly commercialised over here too!
I dragged myself, hungover, into school for 2pm for the visit to La Carcel de Mujeres (the women's prison). I am very glad I did. It was truly bizarre. I've never visited a prison in England, but I'm sure it they're nothing like this one. In the main area of the prison, inmates and visitors mingled together in a crazy mele. As in the central city streets, people wandered round selling plastic roses, sweets and drinks. There were telefone cabins and vending machines. People were chatting and laughing. Children played. After people-watching in awe for a while, we were eventually introduced to the lady who would tell us something of life in the prison from a westerner's point of view. Zoe Savage was a journalist with the BBC coming to Ecuador to make a documentary, 4 years ago to the day, when she was arrested and ultimately sentenced to 8 years behind bars. She claims that 2 cameramen from her team, contracted by the BBC, had asked her to carry something through customs, and when the bags were checked they disappeared. I believe her story. She seems genuine. She tries to put on a brave and cheerful face, and suggests that life isn't so bad in the prison. It's true that her cell, although cramped (she shares a tiny room, smaller than the worst university room, with 2 or 3 other women), did seem almost homely, with fairy lights, photos and various trinkets and drapes. Yet she explained that, as a prisoner, unless you have a steady stream of income from family or friends you cannot afford niceties such as we saw. Such cells as hers require rent. If you can't afford it, you are thrown into the most basic of cells, which even in her words are "not nice". Zoe then went on to say that she barely gets to see any of her friends and family. Her two children still believe that she is away working. For 4 years! The British Embassy, it seems, can't do anything for her. Oprah Winfrey has heard of her case, apparently, and sends her a little money. It became clear, as she fought back tears, that every day is a struggle for her. One of the girls in our group (some wierdo Brummy hippy, it has to be said), was pretty inconsolable.
On a brighter note, that evening I went with Marilyn, Jared, Brad, Sam and another girl I hadn't met before to a football match at one of the Quito stadiums. We got a bit confused about what stadium it was at, so we missed the first 30 minutes, but for $8 it didn't matter too much! It was great fun. One end of the stand was full of the supporters of both teams, the home team on the ground level and the away team above. They were drinking, dancing, singing and setting off fireworks inside the stand all night long; I wish we had been in that bit! It was a little odd to see 20 foot high fencing separating the pitch from the stands, and also to see a little golf buggy driven onto the pitch to collect injured players (what's wrong with a good old stretcher?). But the football was pretty good. Hadn't been to a game in ages! Less aggressive and definitely more beautifully played than in England.
I went out Thursday and Friday nights too, to spend my last nights with friends from the school who were going to the beach at the weekend for Carnaval. Friday was my last night with my host family, as well as being my last night in Quito. We'd arranged with some of the guys at the school to watch "Robin Hood, Man in Tights" before going out. I'd been wanting to watch it for ages and I think the other guys were looking forward to the prospect of taking the piss out of the English in the presence of an English girl. But my host family had arranged a special dinner for my last night, and Belen didn't get home till 8.30, so the plans didn't quite work out. My "special meal" turned out to be a quiche, which would have been lovely, but for the fact that Mercedes had been unable to find a vegetarian quiche. So I forced myself to eat a mediocre slab of ham and cheese quiche and pretend to be unbelievably grateful. It was a nice gesture! I'd got them flowers and chocolates, and they'd got me a lovely red bracelet. I will miss them! Especially Mercedes' food!
Had a few options this weekend. I could potentially have popped across to Columbia to visit a friend, Carlos, who I met when travelling in Africa. I could have gone to the beach, where a load of the students from the school are heading. I could have stuck around Quito and taken in the sights that I've not yet seen. But instead I'm going to Ambato, which apparently is one of the best and most traditional towns during Carnaval. We're leaving tomorrow morning at some ridiculously early hour. I have to be back for Sunday night to check in to a hotel for the start of my two-week tour of Ecuador, so I didn't really have enough time to make the beach or Columbia. After talking to Carlos I think I'm gonna spend a week in Columbia later. Yay!
The last week was really fun. The night of beer pong was crazy - we got through a lot of beer and a lot of pong, thanks to Brad's military rule. Obviously, we had to go out afterwards. Jared bought several fishbowls, which were about 3 times the size of the ones I've encountered before. We went to a very gringo bar, and danced very gringo (Marilyn would have been ashamed, but fortunately she wasn't there to endure the spectacle). We even played the ice game. Shameful! I really didn't think I was that drunk, but I realised when I got out of the taxi that walking was a real challenge. I found my scarf halfway up the stairs to my apartment the next day, and I never did find my sweater. Good night! Needless to say, I didn't make it into the school the next morning. I missed the little exchange of paper hearts that had been organised for Valentine's Day - and I even had a Valentine, after Jared asked me to be his Valentine the day before. Whatever that means, exactly, I'm not too sure. Yep, it's stupidly commercialised over here too!
I dragged myself, hungover, into school for 2pm for the visit to La Carcel de Mujeres (the women's prison). I am very glad I did. It was truly bizarre. I've never visited a prison in England, but I'm sure it they're nothing like this one. In the main area of the prison, inmates and visitors mingled together in a crazy mele. As in the central city streets, people wandered round selling plastic roses, sweets and drinks. There were telefone cabins and vending machines. People were chatting and laughing. Children played. After people-watching in awe for a while, we were eventually introduced to the lady who would tell us something of life in the prison from a westerner's point of view. Zoe Savage was a journalist with the BBC coming to Ecuador to make a documentary, 4 years ago to the day, when she was arrested and ultimately sentenced to 8 years behind bars. She claims that 2 cameramen from her team, contracted by the BBC, had asked her to carry something through customs, and when the bags were checked they disappeared. I believe her story. She seems genuine. She tries to put on a brave and cheerful face, and suggests that life isn't so bad in the prison. It's true that her cell, although cramped (she shares a tiny room, smaller than the worst university room, with 2 or 3 other women), did seem almost homely, with fairy lights, photos and various trinkets and drapes. Yet she explained that, as a prisoner, unless you have a steady stream of income from family or friends you cannot afford niceties such as we saw. Such cells as hers require rent. If you can't afford it, you are thrown into the most basic of cells, which even in her words are "not nice". Zoe then went on to say that she barely gets to see any of her friends and family. Her two children still believe that she is away working. For 4 years! The British Embassy, it seems, can't do anything for her. Oprah Winfrey has heard of her case, apparently, and sends her a little money. It became clear, as she fought back tears, that every day is a struggle for her. One of the girls in our group (some wierdo Brummy hippy, it has to be said), was pretty inconsolable.
On a brighter note, that evening I went with Marilyn, Jared, Brad, Sam and another girl I hadn't met before to a football match at one of the Quito stadiums. We got a bit confused about what stadium it was at, so we missed the first 30 minutes, but for $8 it didn't matter too much! It was great fun. One end of the stand was full of the supporters of both teams, the home team on the ground level and the away team above. They were drinking, dancing, singing and setting off fireworks inside the stand all night long; I wish we had been in that bit! It was a little odd to see 20 foot high fencing separating the pitch from the stands, and also to see a little golf buggy driven onto the pitch to collect injured players (what's wrong with a good old stretcher?). But the football was pretty good. Hadn't been to a game in ages! Less aggressive and definitely more beautifully played than in England.
I went out Thursday and Friday nights too, to spend my last nights with friends from the school who were going to the beach at the weekend for Carnaval. Friday was my last night with my host family, as well as being my last night in Quito. We'd arranged with some of the guys at the school to watch "Robin Hood, Man in Tights" before going out. I'd been wanting to watch it for ages and I think the other guys were looking forward to the prospect of taking the piss out of the English in the presence of an English girl. But my host family had arranged a special dinner for my last night, and Belen didn't get home till 8.30, so the plans didn't quite work out. My "special meal" turned out to be a quiche, which would have been lovely, but for the fact that Mercedes had been unable to find a vegetarian quiche. So I forced myself to eat a mediocre slab of ham and cheese quiche and pretend to be unbelievably grateful. It was a nice gesture! I'd got them flowers and chocolates, and they'd got me a lovely red bracelet. I will miss them! Especially Mercedes' food!
Had a few options this weekend. I could potentially have popped across to Columbia to visit a friend, Carlos, who I met when travelling in Africa. I could have gone to the beach, where a load of the students from the school are heading. I could have stuck around Quito and taken in the sights that I've not yet seen. But instead I'm going to Ambato, which apparently is one of the best and most traditional towns during Carnaval. We're leaving tomorrow morning at some ridiculously early hour. I have to be back for Sunday night to check in to a hotel for the start of my two-week tour of Ecuador, so I didn't really have enough time to make the beach or Columbia. After talking to Carlos I think I'm gonna spend a week in Columbia later. Yay!
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Cotopaxi!!
I finally managed to attempt Cotopaxi this weekend! It was a hastily arranged trip. Marilyn talked to the company on Thursday afternoon, on Friday afternoon we went to get kitted out with all our stuff (crampons, boots, fleeces and waterproofs, ice-picks, sun-goggles, head torches...), and we left early on Saturday morning.
I swear the hardest part of the whole adventure was the hour-long hike to the refuge, which looked about 10 minutes up from the car park. I thought I was going to die, and that I should just turn round and go back there and then! The guides were shaking their heads at the sight of us struggling at the first piddly little hurdle. Although, in my defense, I had brought a ridiculously heavy load in my giant rucksack. I wanted to make sure that being too cold didn't stop me getting to the top, as it had on Kilimanjaro, so I'd brought so many clothes it was stupid. Plus the refuge is at an altitude of about 4,700m, which seriously limits your physical capabilities. After stowing some of our stuff in the lockers, and getting kitted out in our cold-weather gear, we hiked up to the glacier to practice climbing with our crampons and ice-picks, in preparation for the night ascent. The main climb starts in the middle of the night, with the intention of reaching the summit just after dawn, because when the sun rises, the ice melts and it becomes dangerous. So after dinner (which no-one ate much of due to the appetite-supressant effects of altitude), we were despatched to bed at about 7pm. I felt ready for it! However, the refuge was like a giant dormitory, with loads of iron bunks and no soft furnishing to absorb the sounds of people snoring, coughing, and getting up every 20 minutes to put their heavy snow boots on and go to the toilet. Plus I had a banging headache and felt a little queasy. So I got absolutely no sleep before the guides told us it was time to get up at midnight. It took us ages to actually leave the refuge, we took ages over breakfast (can you still call it breakfast if you eat at 12.30am??!!) and we took it in turns to try and persuade Brad (26 year old guy in the US army who's served in Iraq and such places) to try and come with us. But he was too ill; he had a huge headache and felt really sick.
We climbed tied together in teams of 3. I was with Jared (23 year old US "soccer" player) and our solely-Spanish-speaking guide Gustavo. It was bloody difficult. With the exception of the snow, crampons and ice-picks, it was pretty similar to Kili. At the beginning it wasn't too bad, but there was no respite from the steep ice-covered mountainsides and the ferocious, snow-laden winds. Once more, it was a matter of determination and mind over body. We didn't too too badly; we were one of the last groups to leave and we passed a fair few teams. A lot of climbers succombed to the effects of alitude or the difficulty of the task and turned back. We passed Marilyn and her fellow hiker, Martin (a really cool German cameraman, about 30) on their way down, after Marily felt too ill to continue. Our guide kept telling us that we were only 30 minutes from a sheltered place where we could have tea and chocolate, but he was definately lying! We finally got to a slightly less exposed place in a kind of ice-cave, and collapsed there for a while. I just wanted to go to sleep! We tried to keep warm by huddling, but I lost all feeling in my fingers after taking my gloves off to try and open my energy drink, which didn't work anyway. My Camelpack had frozen in the tube. A few minutes after we'd sat down, at about 6am, the complete darkness of the night was becoming less complete. Dawn was on the way. This meant two things: first, that it might get a bit warmer and more pleasant (yay), but second, that we had very little time to try for the summit (uh-oh). Jared clearly had enough in the tank to keep going, but I wasn't sure I did. We decided to go for it, and the first hurdle was a scramble up a really steep and horribly exposed section of the mountain. It was a hurdle too high for me. The wind was vicious, and hurled hard-frozen snow into our faces, making it impossible to see or breathe. My calves burned with every step. Being able to see the deep crevasses, blue beneath the surface, made me panic. When the guide told us that it was another two and a half hours to the top, two and a half hours which we didn't have, I decided that I'd done enough. With retrospect, I feel guilty because I think Jared could have made it. I offered to join another group going down and let him continue, but he said he was happy to come down.
When we returned to our semi-sheltered resting spot, dawn was breaking. It was amazing, and even though we didn't make it it was worth the climb to be there at that moment. Now, rather than only being able to make out, in the beam of our torches, the bit of snow immediately ahead of where we walked, we were gradually able to see the magical environment we had climbed into. An expanse of perfect whiteness loomed above and below us, and beautiful ice formations surrounded us. In the brief moments when the clouds cleared a little, we were treated to incredible views of the sierra stretching out beneath us, and we saw for the first time just how steep and scary was Cotopaxi. I took a fair few photos; it was too fantastic to think about how cold my fingers would get. I'm glad I did, because when we returned to the edge of the snow-cap, the clouds had engulfed the mountain again. The descent was like walking down a black diamond ski run, but with Jared leading carefully, with the aid of crampons and the ice-pick, and with the rope to secure us together, I wasn't too petrified. It took forever to get down though. We got back to the refuge at about 9.
The rest was pretty boring - we had a bit of food, met up with Brad and Marilyn, packed up our stuff and hiked back down the mountain to take our minibus back to Quito. Had a bit of lunch (in a very gringo Mongolian cafe), said goodbye to Martin, and went home for a much-needed shower. I was knackered. Still am - 10 hours of sleep isn't enough to recover from missing a whole night's sleep and climbing for 8 hours up a snow-capped mountain. I also have another cold, which maybe isn't too suprising after my weekend.
That was really the highlight of my week. I've been out a few times, played some "fuzball" at a bar with the worst table in the world ever, had a salsa class, and generally tried to improve my Spanish. It's definitely coming on! I've now got the future tenses, most of the past tenses, and some wierdo tense called the subjunctivo, as well as lots more of the little gramatical details. It's quite exciting! Other that that, erm... no mucho! One of the taxi's I took home one night was stopped by the police for an illegal u-turn, and the policeman took his licence. I had no idea what to do, but figured it was best to get out quick and find another taxi! Saw a fat old lady wearing an English hoodie with the word "HOTTIE" emblazoned across her chest. As I said, English isn't that widely understood over here. Have experienced some classic "carnaval" fun when I had a balloon of water thrown at me from a passing car.
This is my last week at the school, weird! Jared's been here since early January and has 3 months more or so, but said yesterday lunch time that he's really going to miss Marilyn and I. Which made me realise how much I'm going to miss my fellow students and host family. I never really factored in the fact that I wouldn't just be meeting people but actually making friends whilst I studied here. But a week is a long time! Jared has the DVD "Robin Hood, Man in Tights", which he's insisting on showing me before I leave. Brad and Jared have taken great delight in mocking me for my Englishness (something I never really thought about before), and apparently this movie is similar! I can't believe I'm the only Brit here. Getting ready for a game of beer pong later! Yay!
I swear the hardest part of the whole adventure was the hour-long hike to the refuge, which looked about 10 minutes up from the car park. I thought I was going to die, and that I should just turn round and go back there and then! The guides were shaking their heads at the sight of us struggling at the first piddly little hurdle. Although, in my defense, I had brought a ridiculously heavy load in my giant rucksack. I wanted to make sure that being too cold didn't stop me getting to the top, as it had on Kilimanjaro, so I'd brought so many clothes it was stupid. Plus the refuge is at an altitude of about 4,700m, which seriously limits your physical capabilities. After stowing some of our stuff in the lockers, and getting kitted out in our cold-weather gear, we hiked up to the glacier to practice climbing with our crampons and ice-picks, in preparation for the night ascent. The main climb starts in the middle of the night, with the intention of reaching the summit just after dawn, because when the sun rises, the ice melts and it becomes dangerous. So after dinner (which no-one ate much of due to the appetite-supressant effects of altitude), we were despatched to bed at about 7pm. I felt ready for it! However, the refuge was like a giant dormitory, with loads of iron bunks and no soft furnishing to absorb the sounds of people snoring, coughing, and getting up every 20 minutes to put their heavy snow boots on and go to the toilet. Plus I had a banging headache and felt a little queasy. So I got absolutely no sleep before the guides told us it was time to get up at midnight. It took us ages to actually leave the refuge, we took ages over breakfast (can you still call it breakfast if you eat at 12.30am??!!) and we took it in turns to try and persuade Brad (26 year old guy in the US army who's served in Iraq and such places) to try and come with us. But he was too ill; he had a huge headache and felt really sick.
We climbed tied together in teams of 3. I was with Jared (23 year old US "soccer" player) and our solely-Spanish-speaking guide Gustavo. It was bloody difficult. With the exception of the snow, crampons and ice-picks, it was pretty similar to Kili. At the beginning it wasn't too bad, but there was no respite from the steep ice-covered mountainsides and the ferocious, snow-laden winds. Once more, it was a matter of determination and mind over body. We didn't too too badly; we were one of the last groups to leave and we passed a fair few teams. A lot of climbers succombed to the effects of alitude or the difficulty of the task and turned back. We passed Marilyn and her fellow hiker, Martin (a really cool German cameraman, about 30) on their way down, after Marily felt too ill to continue. Our guide kept telling us that we were only 30 minutes from a sheltered place where we could have tea and chocolate, but he was definately lying! We finally got to a slightly less exposed place in a kind of ice-cave, and collapsed there for a while. I just wanted to go to sleep! We tried to keep warm by huddling, but I lost all feeling in my fingers after taking my gloves off to try and open my energy drink, which didn't work anyway. My Camelpack had frozen in the tube. A few minutes after we'd sat down, at about 6am, the complete darkness of the night was becoming less complete. Dawn was on the way. This meant two things: first, that it might get a bit warmer and more pleasant (yay), but second, that we had very little time to try for the summit (uh-oh). Jared clearly had enough in the tank to keep going, but I wasn't sure I did. We decided to go for it, and the first hurdle was a scramble up a really steep and horribly exposed section of the mountain. It was a hurdle too high for me. The wind was vicious, and hurled hard-frozen snow into our faces, making it impossible to see or breathe. My calves burned with every step. Being able to see the deep crevasses, blue beneath the surface, made me panic. When the guide told us that it was another two and a half hours to the top, two and a half hours which we didn't have, I decided that I'd done enough. With retrospect, I feel guilty because I think Jared could have made it. I offered to join another group going down and let him continue, but he said he was happy to come down.
When we returned to our semi-sheltered resting spot, dawn was breaking. It was amazing, and even though we didn't make it it was worth the climb to be there at that moment. Now, rather than only being able to make out, in the beam of our torches, the bit of snow immediately ahead of where we walked, we were gradually able to see the magical environment we had climbed into. An expanse of perfect whiteness loomed above and below us, and beautiful ice formations surrounded us. In the brief moments when the clouds cleared a little, we were treated to incredible views of the sierra stretching out beneath us, and we saw for the first time just how steep and scary was Cotopaxi. I took a fair few photos; it was too fantastic to think about how cold my fingers would get. I'm glad I did, because when we returned to the edge of the snow-cap, the clouds had engulfed the mountain again. The descent was like walking down a black diamond ski run, but with Jared leading carefully, with the aid of crampons and the ice-pick, and with the rope to secure us together, I wasn't too petrified. It took forever to get down though. We got back to the refuge at about 9.
The rest was pretty boring - we had a bit of food, met up with Brad and Marilyn, packed up our stuff and hiked back down the mountain to take our minibus back to Quito. Had a bit of lunch (in a very gringo Mongolian cafe), said goodbye to Martin, and went home for a much-needed shower. I was knackered. Still am - 10 hours of sleep isn't enough to recover from missing a whole night's sleep and climbing for 8 hours up a snow-capped mountain. I also have another cold, which maybe isn't too suprising after my weekend.
That was really the highlight of my week. I've been out a few times, played some "fuzball" at a bar with the worst table in the world ever, had a salsa class, and generally tried to improve my Spanish. It's definitely coming on! I've now got the future tenses, most of the past tenses, and some wierdo tense called the subjunctivo, as well as lots more of the little gramatical details. It's quite exciting! Other that that, erm... no mucho! One of the taxi's I took home one night was stopped by the police for an illegal u-turn, and the policeman took his licence. I had no idea what to do, but figured it was best to get out quick and find another taxi! Saw a fat old lady wearing an English hoodie with the word "HOTTIE" emblazoned across her chest. As I said, English isn't that widely understood over here. Have experienced some classic "carnaval" fun when I had a balloon of water thrown at me from a passing car.
This is my last week at the school, weird! Jared's been here since early January and has 3 months more or so, but said yesterday lunch time that he's really going to miss Marilyn and I. Which made me realise how much I'm going to miss my fellow students and host family. I never really factored in the fact that I wouldn't just be meeting people but actually making friends whilst I studied here. But a week is a long time! Jared has the DVD "Robin Hood, Man in Tights", which he's insisting on showing me before I leave. Brad and Jared have taken great delight in mocking me for my Englishness (something I never really thought about before), and apparently this movie is similar! I can't believe I'm the only Brit here. Getting ready for a game of beer pong later! Yay!
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Mission Aborted
Well Dad, at least you'll be happy to learn that I didn't end up doing Cotopaxi this weekend. Though maybe the reason why isn't so reassuring!
Most of the group planning to climb Cotopaxi did an acclimatisation hike on Thursday afternoon on the volcano I climbed last weekend. My extra afternoon lessons meant that geeky me had to miss out. There were about 6 of them, but they got tired at different stages (or developed blisters, if you believe them) so they split up. Two of them (Sam and another American called Mary), it turned out, were robbed by a lone freak with a machete. From what I understand, but it's patchy and I forget exactly, they were separated, tied up, taken further up the mountain and robbed of everything they had - except their credit cards. I don't think he did them any physical harm, and they managed to get back okay in the end. But on Friday morning, when we met to depart for Cotopaxi, we didn't know what state they were in - all we'd heard, from the incredibly anxious director of the school, was that Mary was at her house and Sam had been found in a park on the other side of Quito really early in the morning by the police.
I thought I'd had a scary night - I went running into the posh housing estate in the north of the city, which I figured should be safe. But it seems that wealthy people have really aggressive dogs, and I ended up being chased by a pack of about 8 of them all barking at me all the way down the street. It was terrifying! And I thought it was just the men I had to be scared of in Ecuador! Anyway, hearing about what happened to Mary and Sam kind of put it into perspective. Meeting at breakfast, we were all really shaken up. I think the three others were feeling guilty for splitting up on the volcano - one of the girls was especially upset because she'd seen a guy hanging round suspiciously on the mountain and hadn't thought too much of it at the time. We weren't really in the right frame of mind to do the climb. Fortunately the company were great about it, and we promised that if we wanted to do it another time we'd use them. A few of us are hoping to do it in a fortnight or so.
People are, or a least were, really panicky at the school. Another one of the students was robbed twice this week, and one time she was floored in broad daylight. And there are riots going on in the centre of Quito about the political situation. It's a little scary I guess, but to be honest, although I'm definitely going to be more careful from now on (like by always using taxis at night, trying to do things in groups, and avoiding dangerous situations) I'm not going to let it stop me doing things. I don't think Quito's any more dangerous than normal, there has just been a spate of random incidents lately. In particular, everyone has said how safe the mountain usually is. I suppose Thursday night is a quiet time. I went up the volcano yesterday with Marlilyn again and there were loads of tourists so I felt totally safe. On a slightly more optimistic note, it was so much easier the second time. I was still wary of the steep bits but not petrified like last time, and I could feel that I was more acclimatised or fitter this time - we were much faster. I really do want to try Cotopaxi.
Once I heard that Sam and Mary were okay, I could enjoy the weekend. I bought a phone on Friday, and if anyone wants to send me a text or anything any time my number is 00 593 88571196. I feel a little more connected with people now. On Friday night one of the Danish girls was leaving, so the Danes cooked a Danish meal at the hostel in the school. It was great fun, we even had an exciting blackout for 10 minutes or so. Afterwards me, Marilyn and a guy called Brad (who was also part of the Cotopaxi group) went out to a salsa bar, mainly so Marilyn could practice her moves. Brad got lucky and attracted the advances of a 47 year old male tourist. Shame he's not gay. Apparently if a guy talks to another guy in a club in English, it's a sign they're gay. He knows this now! I practiced my Spanish chatting to some of the locals.
Yesterday, whilst I was out hiking, I acquired a new housemate. Alex is 28, pale-skinned, and Dutch, and arrived at 9 in the morning. By the evening he was as red as a lobster, underestimating the strenght of the sun at the ecuator. I invited him to come out with loads of the students last night. We went to a salsa party we heard about from the dance teacher at the school, held to raise money for a guy who broke his leg really badly and needs an operation. It was really fun, but the standard of dancing was way too high for me to risk embarrassing myself, so I just sat and chatted. There were a few performances too, which were very impressive. Really wish I knew some good moves! Alex is really nice, but I'm not going to get to speak as much Spanish at home since he's dependent on English at the moment. I'm not special any more! This morning we said goodbye to Alvaro, who left to go out into the jungle again. I'll miss him, he's been great to me and is really good fun. Hopefully he'll be back before I leave, but I don't know.
I'm at a bit of a loose end today. Some of the girls have gone to a little place with hot springs, but I wanted to say goodbye to Alvaro, spend some time on the internet, and study my verbs! I figure I've got six months over here, I should concentrate on learning the language first since I've got plenty of time to visit exciting places. I walked past the park, full of people being sporty, so I'll probably do some running myself later. It's the Superbowl later, is that American football? Most of the Americans are going to Gringolandia later to watch it. I'm not overly excited by the prospect, but maybe it'll be better than nothing. I shall see!
Most of the group planning to climb Cotopaxi did an acclimatisation hike on Thursday afternoon on the volcano I climbed last weekend. My extra afternoon lessons meant that geeky me had to miss out. There were about 6 of them, but they got tired at different stages (or developed blisters, if you believe them) so they split up. Two of them (Sam and another American called Mary), it turned out, were robbed by a lone freak with a machete. From what I understand, but it's patchy and I forget exactly, they were separated, tied up, taken further up the mountain and robbed of everything they had - except their credit cards. I don't think he did them any physical harm, and they managed to get back okay in the end. But on Friday morning, when we met to depart for Cotopaxi, we didn't know what state they were in - all we'd heard, from the incredibly anxious director of the school, was that Mary was at her house and Sam had been found in a park on the other side of Quito really early in the morning by the police.
I thought I'd had a scary night - I went running into the posh housing estate in the north of the city, which I figured should be safe. But it seems that wealthy people have really aggressive dogs, and I ended up being chased by a pack of about 8 of them all barking at me all the way down the street. It was terrifying! And I thought it was just the men I had to be scared of in Ecuador! Anyway, hearing about what happened to Mary and Sam kind of put it into perspective. Meeting at breakfast, we were all really shaken up. I think the three others were feeling guilty for splitting up on the volcano - one of the girls was especially upset because she'd seen a guy hanging round suspiciously on the mountain and hadn't thought too much of it at the time. We weren't really in the right frame of mind to do the climb. Fortunately the company were great about it, and we promised that if we wanted to do it another time we'd use them. A few of us are hoping to do it in a fortnight or so.
People are, or a least were, really panicky at the school. Another one of the students was robbed twice this week, and one time she was floored in broad daylight. And there are riots going on in the centre of Quito about the political situation. It's a little scary I guess, but to be honest, although I'm definitely going to be more careful from now on (like by always using taxis at night, trying to do things in groups, and avoiding dangerous situations) I'm not going to let it stop me doing things. I don't think Quito's any more dangerous than normal, there has just been a spate of random incidents lately. In particular, everyone has said how safe the mountain usually is. I suppose Thursday night is a quiet time. I went up the volcano yesterday with Marlilyn again and there were loads of tourists so I felt totally safe. On a slightly more optimistic note, it was so much easier the second time. I was still wary of the steep bits but not petrified like last time, and I could feel that I was more acclimatised or fitter this time - we were much faster. I really do want to try Cotopaxi.
Once I heard that Sam and Mary were okay, I could enjoy the weekend. I bought a phone on Friday, and if anyone wants to send me a text or anything any time my number is 00 593 88571196. I feel a little more connected with people now. On Friday night one of the Danish girls was leaving, so the Danes cooked a Danish meal at the hostel in the school. It was great fun, we even had an exciting blackout for 10 minutes or so. Afterwards me, Marilyn and a guy called Brad (who was also part of the Cotopaxi group) went out to a salsa bar, mainly so Marilyn could practice her moves. Brad got lucky and attracted the advances of a 47 year old male tourist. Shame he's not gay. Apparently if a guy talks to another guy in a club in English, it's a sign they're gay. He knows this now! I practiced my Spanish chatting to some of the locals.
Yesterday, whilst I was out hiking, I acquired a new housemate. Alex is 28, pale-skinned, and Dutch, and arrived at 9 in the morning. By the evening he was as red as a lobster, underestimating the strenght of the sun at the ecuator. I invited him to come out with loads of the students last night. We went to a salsa party we heard about from the dance teacher at the school, held to raise money for a guy who broke his leg really badly and needs an operation. It was really fun, but the standard of dancing was way too high for me to risk embarrassing myself, so I just sat and chatted. There were a few performances too, which were very impressive. Really wish I knew some good moves! Alex is really nice, but I'm not going to get to speak as much Spanish at home since he's dependent on English at the moment. I'm not special any more! This morning we said goodbye to Alvaro, who left to go out into the jungle again. I'll miss him, he's been great to me and is really good fun. Hopefully he'll be back before I leave, but I don't know.
I'm at a bit of a loose end today. Some of the girls have gone to a little place with hot springs, but I wanted to say goodbye to Alvaro, spend some time on the internet, and study my verbs! I figure I've got six months over here, I should concentrate on learning the language first since I've got plenty of time to visit exciting places. I walked past the park, full of people being sporty, so I'll probably do some running myself later. It's the Superbowl later, is that American football? Most of the Americans are going to Gringolandia later to watch it. I'm not overly excited by the prospect, but maybe it'll be better than nothing. I shall see!
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