Otavalo and The Amazon Jungle

Our first excursion from Quito was to Otavalo, a small city nestled in an Andean valley ~2 hours north of Quito. Heeding warnings from our host family and Spanish teacher, we attempted to pre-purchase bus tickets for Saturday on Thursday afternoon. Our teacher accompanied us to facilitate the process (navigating Quito by public transit has proven exceedingly difficult, primarily due to the lack of hard copy or internet-based information about routes).

After a 40-minute bus trip, we arrived at Terminal Ophelia only to learn that buses for Otavalo now depart from another station, Terminal Carcelen, further to the north. Another bus brought us to Carcelen in about 20 minutes where our teacher ascertained that it was not possible to reserve tickets for a future day. Le sigh. Mildly perturbed, we thanked our teacher for at least trying to help us out and made our way to La Mariscal in search of Quito's main post office. Earlier in the week we'd attempted to send a parcel to Canada via the small post office in Old Town but, to our surprise, it did not stock packaging materials. We were directed to an office supply store in La Mariscal that had what we wanted. I almost felt like I should inform the post office that they were missing out on a very lucrative part of the postal service but whatever. They'll figure it out eventually.

Friday evening marked our last dinner with our homestay family. We gave them a bottle of wine as a thank-you gift and they elected to share it with us that night. The family had also welcomed two new guests: a couple of German girls, one of whom was there for work and the other to travel. I didn't realize our host family had so many rooms! Actually, Beatriz told me they are planning to renovate their house into a hostal over the next year or two. Que chévere!

In the hopes of beating the crowds, we left for the bus station very early on Saturday morning, picking up Christa en route. The line-up for Otavalo tickets wasn't overwhelmingly long and we reached the front pretty quickly. Chris and I bought our tickets and then waited while Christa got hers. Only when she rejoined us did we realize our folly; they put Christa on a different bus than us in order to fill up the single seats remaining on an earlier departure! We tried to explain that we wanted to travel together but had no luck. So we waved goodbye to Christa and hoped we'd see her at the hostel in Otavalo. As it turned out, our issues with the bus system were not quite finished. Not a major fiasco, but, when we boarded our bus and made our way to our assigned seats, #s 40 and 41, we discovered that the bus contained only 38 seats. The driver directed us to two seats near the back where we remained despite a few other travellers eyeing us with confusion as they inspected their own tickets, also bearing seat #s in the 40s. In fact, we overheard one woman state that she had been assigned the exact same seat numbers as us. I guess you can expect a certain amount of error when the bus companies write out their tickets by hand and bus capacities vary or one bus replaces another at the last minute. Regardless, we were granted seats and made it to Otavalo without incident. Entirely without incident, no less; Chris wasn't sick at all!

Otavalo turned out to be bigger than we'd expected but it was only a short taxi ride to Hostal Chasqui where we reconvened with Christa. She and I ventured out in search of coffee while Chris took a nap, presumably still feeling the effects of the Gravol he'd taken prior to the bus ride. I found walking around Otavalo considerably less sketchy than in Quito. Christa and I found a restaurant and sat down to breakfast, grumbling in unison when we realized the coffee was instant versus brewed, as we'd hoped. After a few minutes of Christa picking at her undercooked eggs and me apprehensively probing the mystery meat on my plate, we left unsated but, fortunately, only a few dollars lighter in the wallet. We retrieved Chris and headed for the market areas of town. Wow. Hundreds upon hundreds of stalls adorned with a cornucopia of textiles and artisan wares (allegedly) manufactured by local indigenous people. For a while we just wandered and "window-shopped" but eventually we bolstered the nerve to try our hand at bartering for a few items. I tried on a few chompas (zip-up sweaters) while Chris snapped photos so I could see how they looked (no full-length mirrors in the market!). After considering Chris and Christa's votes, I chose one and it was time to barter. Fortuitously, I'd managed to eavesdrop on the merchant's earlier exchange with another group of travellers and knew he'd refused to drop his price below $25. We haggled back and forth from either end of the twenties, settling on $25, as I'd surmised. Meanwhile, Chris launched an enthusiastic campaign in support of the local economy, selecting and bartering for some neat artwork and handicrafts. Although I teased him that he wanted to buy everything and, of course, seized the opportunity to point out the counter-gender-stereotypical behaviour, I was actually glad that he picked out some things for us because I am notoriously inept when it comes to shopping for art/household accessories. I know I'll be glad to have those artefacts when we are settled somewhere in the future, reminiscing about this year.

During our hours wandering the blocks and blocks of the market, we frequently fell victim to the regional Carnival tradition of surprise assaults with "Spuma de Carnival": aerosol spray-foam. To us, it appeared that this activity was reserved for combat between los niños (children) with one blatant exception: tourists are fair game. We never saw another adult get sprayed aside from being collateral damage in the prepubescent mock warfare constantly erupting around them. The three of us, along with other tourists we encountered, were certainly not spared from the mayhem. In truth, it was a only mild nuisance because the foam dried within minutes, leaving no visible residue on our clothes and only a bit of extra sheen in our hair. The foam actually smelled pretty good too.

After spending the night in Otavalo, we hired a taxi to take us up to Parque Condor, a Dutch-owned bird-of-prey reserve that overlooks Otavalo and the surrounding farmlands. We arrived in time to watch the interactive show but were disadvantaged by our limited Spanish comprehension. Nonetheless, we got to see some pretty cool birds in action, including a bald eagle, various falcons, hawks, and owls. All the birds were rescue animals or donated to the refuge for rehabilitation. At least that's what they said... They seemed well-cared for in any event.

When we'd finished exploring the refuge, we hovered around the entrance for a few minutes before conceding that we were unlikely to find a taxi this far from town. We began walking, decidedly happy to get some exercise and be able to enjoy the views from the road. And then one of the passing cars "spuma'd" us. Haha. We weren't safe anywhere! Eventually we made it back to Otavalo where we grabbed a quick lunch and then walked to the terminal to catch a bus back to Quito, this time ensuring that we bought our tickets together.

Chris and I had left our big packs in Christa's dorm so we returned to her place to reorganize our stuff and prepare for our impending bus trip to the jungle - we'd arranged with our teacher to take an overnight bus to Rio Cuyabeno on Sunday in order to spend the next week at a lodge in la selva (the Amazon jungle). We were told the trip would take between 8 and 10 hours, depending on traffic and weather, etc. Needless to say we were really excited about that...

It was far FAR worse than we'd imagined. Seriously. I thought I'd had scary bus rides before. Nope. This one was positively terrifying. It didn't help that I felt sick just before getting on the bus. Not nauseous... the, errm, other sort of affliction... Miraculously, I held it together (ahem) for the first half of our journey, despite being tossed and bounced around for hours (after yet another incident of overbooking the bus, we were shunted to the back seats even though we'd purchased seats near the front). At about 3 am our bus became stranded at a bridge gridlocked with traffic. After surveying the chaos of transport trucks, buses, and angry travellers  for what seemed like an hour and weighing my discomfort against all conceivable risks of disembarking, I finally succumbed to the (harpy-esque) call of nature and ventured into the blackness to find a "bathroom". In my stupor I'd managed to forget to bring toilet paper with me but was saved by our Spanish teacher, who'd (prudently) followed me from the bus to ensure my safe return. I'm sure that's a bit TMI, but, I felt it was pertinent in order to really convey the ordeal.  However, my torment seemed a delight in comparison to how Chris fared throughout the trip. Yes, he was struck with motion sickness again. Severely. And who could blame him!?! Blech. It was an awful awful bus ride. And it lasted for 9 hours. Enough said.

Finally, a few hours after daybreak, we were dropped off at a bridge - we'd reached the Rio Cuyabeno, the launch point for the remainder of our journey. A group of about 10 other travellers was already assembled at the launch area and we endured a few of their inquiries before pleading exhaustion from our trip. Shortly afterwards, we found out that we were not going to the lodge we'd been told about (Yarina) but would be joining the group and heading to nearby Cuyabeno River Lodge. Fine. Whatever. We were happy as long as wherever we ended up had beds. Twenty minutes travel by motorized canoe and we arrived at the aforementioned lodge, which consisted of cabañas branching off a raised boardwalk that ran the length of the riverfront property and a larger central building with a kitchen, dining area, and office. Immediately after reaching the top of the stairs from the water, we were served a hot breakfast (it was almost 10 am but I guess they take their 3 meals/day very seriously). 

Young boy who was adopted by the lodge owner after being abandoned
there as a baby. We fancied he looked and acted just like Mowgli from
the Jungle Book.  :P

Next we were shown to our "matrimonial" accommodations, once our teacher rectified a miscommunication that had lead to all three of us being booked to share a "group" cabaña. It was a fairly rustic hut, primarily constructed using wood panels made from deadfall, but it did have a private bathroom with running water and the grass/palm frond roof appeared to be wholly intact.  Harkening the incessant chorus of insect and bird calls from the jungle, we eyed the bug net hanging over our bed, nervously noting the pony-walls and widely spaced floorboards that left our abode open to the surrounding wilderness. Fortunately, the lodge's summoning bell distracted us from further contemplation of the matter.

Unwilling to resign their guests to potential boredom (rest!), the staff had arranged a hike through the jungle to precede lunch. Although extremely weary, we indulged them and joined the rest of the group for the rainy trek. It was pretty cool to take a moment and realize that we were actually in the Amazon rainforest. We saw many butterflies, a few birds and our guide pointed out a some plants of significance to the indigenous people. After lunch we forced ourselves to take a 2 hour Spanish lesson before finally retiring for a short nap before dinner.

Our 8-legged roommate... The light color wood panel
to the left and behind was 4 inches wide, for scale. Yah.

When we were leaving our cabaña to head to the dining room, I turned back to get something from the room and as I reached over to open the gate (=the door) I saw 4 long, spindly legs dart down around the post. I leaped back in terror, sputtering to Chris that I'd seen a big spider. Big. Massive!!! I persuaded Chris to peer around the post and he confirmed that an enormous spider was indeed trying to hide in the corner joint between our pony-wall and the middle of the door post. Chris removed his sandal and I thought he was going to try to whack the spider with it. All I could imagine was the epic failure of such an endeavour, complete with our 8-legged guest (or were we the guests?) running wounded up my leg to bite the suspected perpetrator of its injuries. Yah, no thanks. In actuality Chris was simply planning to use the sandal as an invulnerable extension of his hand in order to open the gate. This I gladly permitted, standing as far back as I felt I could get away with while still appearing to support my valiant man. Once the gate was opened, we mustered our courage and ran through the entryway, about-facing to reconfirm the location of the spider. It was still there. And it was still huge. Approximately the size of my hand. /GULP. Well, welcome to the Amazon I guess. Definitely the biggest living spider I have ever seen without a pane of glass separating us. At that moment I developed serious concerns regarding the integrity and effectiveness of our bug net...

With great trepidation, we snuck back out the door and joined the others in the dining area for dinner. By the time we returned, the spider had retreated to the rafters (yes, we actually took pains to locate it with our headlamp - also found 3 more large spiders lurking above...) and was no longer an immediate threat. But we had a new roommate to contend with. Several new roommates, in fact. Cockroaches. Yep. I am more grossed out by cockroaches than terrified. Typically. But in the dim light of our cabaña, every little insect appears more menacing. Heck, every knot in the wood panels or shadow in the corner appears menacing! It was actually pretty comical how on edge we became as soon as the sun set. Justifiably so, but it still made me feel a little ridiculous to jump three feet whenever a moth inadvertently flew into my head. The first night I was admittedly pretty freaked out but fatigue from our night on the bus got the better of me and I slept rather soundly. The bug net did its job.

One of many precarious crossings during a hike in 

the Cuyabeno reserve.

The remainder of our days at the lodge were spent hiking through the jungle and taking boat trips to the nearby laguna and an indigenous community. The hiking was not too strenuous apart from some very precarious crossings of Cuyabeno's tributaries... We had an opportunity to fish, bating our hooks with some sort of red meat. There are many types of fish in the river but I think we were fishing for piranhas. At least I was imagining piranhas when I felt the spastic "nibbles" on the end of the line. I donated several morsels to the fiends beneath the surface but didn't catch anything. One of the other girls caught a little fish and the kitchen staff cooked it up for her when we got back to the lodge!

Mist on the Rio Cuyabeno

Speaking of the kitchen staff... a rather amusing thing happened involving the guy that served us our meals. One rainy afternoon I'd slipped on the walkway en route back to our cabaña and snapped the toe-strap of a flip-flop. They were only a $5 pair from Canadian Tire and I reckoned they'd served me well enough during our stay in Costa Rica so I tossed them in the garbage in our bathroom. The next day I happened to glimpse the server's feet and noticed he was wearing my discarded sandals! They were a bit too small for him but the broken strap appeared to have been repaired. I guess this perfectly exemplifies the idiom "one man's trash is another man's treasure"!

Chris helping in the kitchen.

During our long journey by boat to the laguna we saw four species of monkeys and glimpsed a freshwater dolphin. We also saw several Amazonian green kingfishers, various herons, anhingas, vultures, a wild turkey, and lots of other birds that I can't recall the names of or which we weren't given the English name of. Our visit to an indigenous community was a less interesting than I'd hoped. The guide didn't give much info about them or show us around aside from taking us out to the area where they grow coffee and yucca. We watched as an indigenous girl prepared pan de yucca from freshly-harvested yucca. Chris actually helped shred the root. It was surprisingly tasty despite not having anything in it besides yucca.

Baby monkey at the indigenous village.

The main lodge at dusk.

When we were at the lodge we found out that it was possible to catch a flight back to Quito from one of the nearby towns. Chris was eager to investigate this opportunity to avoid another horrific bus trip and, with the help of our teacher, we arranged for one of the lodge staff to purchase us plane tickets. Unfortunately, it turned out that the airplane was grounded for repairs until the following week. Our teacher managed to find another  alternative - a private van that could reduce the trip to 6 hours. Even though it meant taking the same route back we figured it was a better option than the bus. We were correct. It was actually a beautiful drive in the daylight. The Andes are spectacular and we even caught a glimpse of an active volcano a few hours before we reached Quito.

All in all it was a cool excursion and we also met some nice people, including two Argentinian sisters that we hope to reconnect with when we make our way further south in a few months. However, recognizing that we spent the majority of our time enjoying the jungle and not taking our Spanish lessons, we re-evaluated our plans to study-and-travel next week. We've decided to just study in Quito for another week in the hopes that we will actually learn a bit more Spanish before we head off to other parts of the country. AND, we are moving back in with our former homestay family! Hurray for REAL coffee again (the jungle lodge only provided instant coffee, which really doesn't deserve to be called coffee). We're not ecstatic about moving back into our mini-dorm but all the other perks will make it worth it!

Yo soy Ange.

Yo soy soltera, pero tengo nobio. El llamo Chris. Nosotros estamos apprediendo espanol en Quito.

Hola amigos! No, I am not going to be super annoying and insert random spanish word/phrases throughout the rest of this blog. Well, I might. But it's my blog so deal with it! We have been in Quito for almost 2 weeks now and are about halfway through our planned Spanish classes. Our teacher is a young chico named Cristian and, fortunately for us, he is incredibly patient. I'm finding that the French courses I took in junior high and high school are both helping and hindering my progress. Many words have similar roots so I feel like I'm picking up vocabulary fairly quickly. Sentence structure and conjugation rules are also similar. I get into trouble with pronunciation though... It's coming slowly but I do feel like I've learned a lot in just a few classes. And living with our host family has greatly enhanced the learning process.

Our host family consists of a couple, Beatriz y Danilo, and their 22-year-old son, Lucas. They live in a colonial style house not far from the hostel we stayed at when we first arrived. The family inhabits a suite on the third floor of the building; Chris and I have a dormitoricio on the lower floor. It's sort of a funny room.... I like to pretend it has character so that it feels more homey and less odd. Let me explain: each storey in a colonial building is typically about 12 feet high. In our habitation, presumably, to make the most efficient use of the room, a loft was constructed to create a "bedroom" above a small living space that also contains a bathroom. Now, if you do the math, bisecting a room with 12-foot ceilings renders two psuedo-storeys of <6 feet each (the new floor eats up some of that 12 feet). You can imagine these living conditions are not only claustrophobia-inducing, but also present considerable risk to our heads, especially in Chris's case. I've managed to avoid injury thus far by slouching around the place but Chris hasn't escaped unscathed. He's only smoked his head a few times but those wooden beams don't have much give! Not fun. A few of the room's other quirks include a bathroom door that doesn't fit into the door frame and an electric shower head controlled by a lever-style valve that delivers a nasty shock if you dare to adjust the flow after stepping into the stall. We've solved the former by jamming paper between the door and the floor to hold the door shut and instating an "earmuffs!" routine when either of us requires some privacy (i.e. headphones and music). The latter can't really be circumvented so we either suffer a lukewarm shower or suffer a shock to reduce the flow rate, thereby increasing the water temperature. Sometimes it feels like being in a pysch experiment...

Anyway, the room is fine for a stay of only 2 weeks. Moreover, it's shortcomings are definitely compensated by the awesomeness of our family. Beatriz is a fabulous cook, spoiling us with delicious meals, three times a day - we even got chocolate cake for Valentine's Day - and the guys are good-natured and patient with our pathetic attempts at making conversation in spanish. Danilo has formal training as an interior designer but has found his passion elsewhere - he roasts organic coffee beans in another suite of the house that has been converted into a processing plant. It's incredible! The coffee, I mean. And it's so neat that this scenario perfectly exemplifies what we're contemplating doing ourselves. Successfully exemplifies, I might emphasize. Danilo has supplier contracts with numerous hotels and restaurants in Ecuador with interest from buyers outside the country as well.

There are several other occupants of the house/building, not the quietest of whom are Tommy and Gringo, dos perros (two dogs) whose territory overlaps the shortest route up to our meals. Gringo is a small weiner-dog, more skittish than a wild rabbit, whereas Tommy is a large mutt, more offended by Chris's burgeoning beard than the average Quitonian (and they are pretty offended, I can attest). Tommy and Gringo relish glaring down at us from their balcony overlooking the courtyard outside our door and, despite the fact that we possess keys to the dorm, both beasts belt out a chorus of warning barks every time we arrive home. More recently, Chris and Tommy have made peace following repeated efforts on Chris's part to befriend the brute, winning him over with a few good scratches behind the ears and soothing words. On monday our family grew to include Don, an American guy here on exchange to study for about 5 months. He's studying PoliSci in the US but will just take some electives here. Don is fluent in Spanish, having studied throughout school and at University. It remains to be seen whether his presence will augment or interfere with our progress as it's now easier to slip into a conversation in English or to rely on Don to translate on our behalf.

Aside from school and struggling to communicate with our homestay family (in other words, consistently entertaining them with our linguistic or contextual blunders), we've managed to see a bit more of Quito. On Monday, we watched the changing of the guard at the Presidential Palace in La Plaza Grande. It was all very impressive but what really blew me away was when our teacher (this was a school excursion) pointed out President Correa, who was watching the exhibition from his balcony a few hundred feet from us. The President. Of Ecuador. Right there in front of us! Pretty crazy that we could be so close to the leader of a country. That's something that would never happen in Canada or the US. I ran into former Premier Ed Stelmach while visiting my grampa in the UofA hospital. But, really, that's not very big potatoes. So yah, seeing the President = pretty cool. On another school excursion we visited the central market. That's where all the indigenous people, who comprise the majority of Ecuador's farmers, gather to sell their goods. It was a huge market, stocked with every fruit you could imagine, nuts, grains, and a menagerie of animals for sale, living or dead. The fish market was something else. We also saw a rat but it wasn't for sale... overall, the sanitary conditions of the market left much to be desired. Not sure I would be a frequent customer.... it also feels a bit unsafe, requiring near-constant vigilance to protect your belongings. Frankly, shopping is stressful enough without having to worry about thieves! But it was really cool to see the market... in a large group.

We've met up with our friend Christa (from Canada) a few times over the past weeks. On one occasion we attempted to meet for dinner at a restaurant in La Mariscal but, evidently, it had closed down since the last edition of Lonely Planet. We chanced another place (also in the LP but not as highly recommended) and were not terribly impressed. We were served a tasty "traditional drink" while we pondered the menu, but our experience went down-hill once our actual meals arrived. Christa was justifiably malcontent after receiving a side of fries and salad when she'd tried to order lentils and rice with her chicken. Although our server claimed to speak English, we soon suspected otherwise.

We also went up the Quito Tram (aka TeleferiQo) with Christa. Chris and I got two-for-one tickets on account of it being "the month of love" and us being a couple. Regular price is $8.50, which is still ridiculously cheap when you consider the Jasper Tram charges almost $30. The views from the top were amazing; words won't do it justice. Chris is still editing the photos but we will post some soon!! It's possible to hike the summit of Pichincha but we were utterly breathless simply climbing the stairs and path to the closest viewpoints. Somehow I don't think 3.5 km of trekking at that altitude would be very pleasant. Although, we've booked our Inca Trail trek so I guess I'd better be prepared for exerting myself at even higher altitudes! On another excursion with Christa we visited the Capilla del Hombres. It's a gallery of Guayasamin's work - he's a famous Ecuadorian painter, recognized for capturing the emotional trials and tribulations of cultures throughout the world in a style often compared to that of Picasso. We really liked his stuff and got a lot out of the tour (it was in English).

One other exciting event was an earth tremor that occurred in the early morning last week. I was awake, felt the movement, but thought I was having a flashback to our bungalow in Costa Rica (the bungalow was on stilts and tended to sway whenever people walked around; we would notice it most when we were still in bed in the mornings after Modest was up with Lauren). Chris slept through it. So maybe it wasn't that exciting.

This post is notably devoid of photos but we promise to upload some soon! (i.e. as soon as I surrender the computer to Chris so that he can edit, edit, edit).

With our heads in the clouds...

We are in Quito!! Waaaaayyyyyy up in the Andes. We already miss Jill, Modest, and Lauren - our beach buddies for most of January. Several Laurenisms will likely remain with us for at least a few more weeks of travel ("Poot" = pooped; "milka-milk" = I'm ready for bed; "Done-done" and various other word-doublings for emphasis; "both!" = the response after Lauren learned that was the third option when posed with a "this or that" question). We will also miss all of Modest's language lapses on account of his "BSL". Allow me to explain: Modest loves to blame both failed attempts at humor and instances where his humor crosses certain lines of social appropriateness on the fact that English is his second language (ESL). After a few too many of these ESL moments, I suggested that perhaps BSL was a more accurate descriptor... I know. I'm so clever.  I'd love to poke fun at Jill too but she didn't really give me much material to work with. I guess we'll probably continue to use the "bhhhjjjjuhhh" onomatopoeia whenever an unidentified fluff invades our personal space.... Get Modest to reenact this for you if you know him.

Our flight here from Costa Rica was on a nearly empty, nearly brand new airplane. It literally took us 10 minutes from the time we arrived at the gate at Quito airport to get our baggage, clear customs, and hire a taxi to our hostel. Crazy!

The first thing you notice about this city is how much of it you can see. Quito is spread over the slopes of the surrounding mountains, making for great views every way you look. The colonial-style architecture is also immediately apparent. We are staying in the Old Town (Centro Historico) in a hostel named (simply and aptly) "Colonial House". Our room is on the third floor and we have a pretty sweet view from our balcony (see photo; actually, the photo doesn't do it justice so you'll just have to trust me). The hostel itself is quite nice and the owner, Ornelia, is really sweet despite not having the best grasp of English. Luckily, she does not suffer from the BSL that afflicts Modest.

We spent our first afternoon wandering the streets of old town, admiring the buildings and unabashedly people-watching in the Plaza Grande. The temperature is considerably cooler than it was at the beach in Costa Rica - average highs are around 18 degrees and so far the days have been mostly cloudy with a few smatterings of rain. Honestly, it's a welcome reprieve from the heat we enjoyed in Costa Rica. Deep down I'm still Canadian, born and bred, meaning I thrive in more temperate conditions although I do enjoy hot days at the beach now and then! Our first meal in Quito was at a cafe with tables looking into an interior courtyard. This style is common with colonial buildings, which is sort of sad because typically the courtyards are beautiful, often boasting ornamental gardens, fountains, and large balconies overlooking cafe patios.

The second thing we noticed about this city is the abundant police presence. They are everywhere! Walking solo or in groups, riding motorcycles, driving in trucks, and guarding the entrances to the more prestigious shops, hotels, and eateries. This is comforting and yet also disconcerting.... I suppose I'd rather see too many cops and be left wondering why they're necessary than find myself alone on a street wondering why there are no cops to help me while I'm getting mugged. Yah.

The third thing we noticed is the excessive honking by drivers. Don't imagine that this phenomenon is comparable to the behaviour typical of crowded New York streets where gridlock is a daily occurrence and drivers honk to (presumably) vent their frustrations. No, drivers honk here because most streets in the old town don't have signage for traffic controls and with 3+ storey buildings constructed such that their exterior walls effectively meld with the curbsides, you really can't see cars coming from intersecting streets. So, drivers have evolved to honk as a way of alerting others that they are coming through! Forget about yielding at every intersection - you'd get nowhere fast. Honking seems to work just fine. So far.

The fourth thing we noticed was the altitude. Or, to be more accurate, the effects of the altitude. Quito is at least 2800 m above sea-level with some neighborhoods reaching upwards of 4000 m. For comparison, Banff is at about 1400 m and Jasper is about 1000 m. Most of Edmonton lies at about 700 m, so it's not a huge jump to visit the Rockies. We came from sea level in Costa Rica, so probably felt an even greater impact than if we'd flown here directly from home. Our symptoms, which didn't really manifest until day 2, were light-headedness, shortness of breath during periods of exertion, loss of appetite, and some achiness in our joints. Normal. Fortunately this only lasted about 2 days. Oh, I also have to confess that I am no longer part of the sickness-free club. Yep. I guess the food quality/cleanliness standards here are a little lower than in Costa Rica.  :S

One highlight of our time here thus far has been a restaurant called Cafe Mosaico. The view from their patio is spectacular, the food is good and reasonably priced (especially when you consider the epic view), and we had the place entirely to ourselves. Surely that wouldn't be the case all the time, but it was a nice treat and escape from the bustling streets of old town proper. Note the bull-fighting arena in the center of the photo. We actually saw a matador de toros practicing sin toro but with the stereotypical red cape! Maybe we'll check out a bullfight during our stay here... maybe.

While in Costa Rica we did some research into Spanish lessons and made one major change to our planned itinerary: originally were going to leave after a few days and head to Cuenca to take Spanish classes. We've now decided to take a couple weeks of lessons here because it's a bit cheaper than in other locations and it will be easier to travel to other places once we've picked up some basics. I guess that's the fifth thing we've noticed - very few people speak English. We are getting by but my sentiments are that our experiences will be all the more richer if we invest some time learning the language. So, after a minor setback resulting from the internets swallowing my email to the school, we will begin our lessons tomorrow! We are also moving in with an Ecuadorian family for the next 2 weeks. I feel slightly apprehensive about this but am confident it's the best way to force ourselves to practice what we are learning each day. Plus, it should be a great opportunity to learn first-hand about the culture and customs here.

Creepy mannequin in an old town market.

After the two weeks of studying in Quito we are going to travel-and-study - the school offers lessons at other locations in Ecuador. We have chosen a lodge in the Amazon that is only accessible by river and a beachside town where we will be housed in beach-front huts. This travel-and-study option appealed to us because it will allow us to see more of Ecuador while improving our language skills. I sort of think we'll be over the big city after a few more weeks too. Though we're looking forward to meeting up with our friend Christa who is volunteering in Quito for a couple of months! Hurray for a serendipitous overlap in our visits!


Aside from sorting out our Spanish lessons we've spent some time researching and sketching out the rest of our year in South America. ATTENTION THOSE THINKING ABOUT MEETING UP WITH US ALONG THE WAY! Tentative plans are to spend the rest of February in Ecuador, taking our Spanish lessons as mentioned above. There are a few more places near Quito that we want to visit in early March and then we are going to try to book a Galapagos tour for about the second week of March, probably looking to do a 5-day boat trip with a few days spent on the islands after the formal tour (want to come??). Then we'll make our way through the south of Ecuador towards Peru. We are thinking of signing up for the Inca Trail hike at the end of April (27th or 28th are the only dates still available), so will spend most of April around the north of Peru, aiming to arrive in Cuzco in time for a few days of acclimation before we do the trail to Machu Picchu. Anyone up for this adventure??? After Machu Picchu we will make our way to Bolivia. We are still thinking about our route after Bolivia. We may go to Paraguay, then Brazil, then Argentina or we may to to Chile and then Argentina. Anyway, just a tentative sketch of countries FYI!