Chris and Chris Break Free

Our last week in Ecuador has been a bit of a whirlwind.  It’s hard to believe that last Sunday we were hiking Cotopaxi, then biking in Baños on Tuesday, sightseeing in Cuenca on Thursday, and visiting some archaeological Inca ruins in Ingapirca on Friday.  And now we are in Guayaquil getting ready to fly to Peru.  Before we say a final good-bye to Ecuador, here’s a summary of our visit to Cuenca.

We travelled to Cuenca by bus from Baños on Wednesday via Riobamba.  The journey took a total of 10 hours including 2 hours wait time in Riobamba – the only time we have had to wait for a bus during our entire stay in Ecuador. While it was a long travel day, the journey south through the Andes mountains was unbelievably beautiful.  The trip from Baños to Riobamba was a little hair-raising as the bus ripped up and down the single track dirt road at breakneck speeds with only inches to spare on both sides of the bus. In spite of the maniacal driver, the scenery was breathtaking, although it was impossible to take any pictures as we were tossed from side to side as the bus driver took the curves as fast as he possibly could.  The bus ride from Riobamba to Cuenca offered equally spectacular, panoramic mountain views but with, thankfully, a more sedate bus driver.

Arriving in Cuenca at night amidst a downpour meant waiting until the morning to see the city.  We found our hostel easily (La Cigale) – or I should say our taxi driver found it – and we were pleased with our choice, even though it didn’t look like much from the outside.  Our room was on the second floor, at the back of the hostel, far away from the noisy restaurant up front.  We had a very large private bathroom, a fairly comfortable bed, and two night tables with a lamp on each – rare commodities in the hostels we’ve been frequenting.  Speaking of the restaurant, it was a busy hangout for mainly locals probably because the food was so good and Happy Hour offered half-price cocktails.  While their mojitos were not quite as good as the ones at home, they were nonetheless quite delicious and at only $1.50 each, we enjoyed plenty of them!

Thursday was spent wandering around the old city which is listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Trust site because of its many historical buildings.  It seemed there was a church on almost every corner. Two historical landmarks were the Old Cathedral which was built in 1557, and later replaced by the new Cathedral (photo on the left) which began construction in 1880.  This cathedral has three large towers which had to be truncated due to a design error by the architect. If they had been raised to their planned height, the foundation of the church would not have been able to bear the weight. Today, the towers look somewhat out of scale with the rest of the building.  Nonetheless, this remains an important landmark in Cuenca.

As we explored the old part of the city, we discovered a great path along the Tomebamba river which separates the old city from the new.  We went for a run early Friday morning along this route and we were surprised by the number of locals who were out running, walking or doing exercise classes in a park dedicated to running (complete with a running track around the park perimeter).

Rather spontaneously during breakfast on Friday, after reading about it in our guide book, we decided to go to Ingapirca to see the largest known Inca ruins in Ecuador.  We grabbed a taxi to the bus terminal, and then discovered the next direct bus would not leave until noon.  The woman at the ticket counter suggested (in Spanish) we go to El Tambo since the bus was leaving immediately and from there we could catch another bus or taxi to the ruins.  We hopped on that bus, not exactly sure where it would lead, since we can now understand the gist of what people are telling us in Spanish, but we’re still at a loss when it comes to the details.  Two hours later we pulled into the small town of El Tambo and the bus assistant motioned to us that this was where we get off.  He pointed in the direction of taxis ready to take tourists to the ruins, 10 km away.  At $5 per ride, we balked at this option (it had only cost $4 to travel to this point from Cuenca), but with no other bus in sight, we acquiesced to the taxi and sat back and enjoyed the scenery along the way.

The ruins are situated about 200m from the town, on the edge of a hill.  Only a few other tourists were at the ruins when we arrived, including a small group – two women and a male tour guide – who we had met earlier in the week while cycling in Baños – what a small world it is!

We meandered through the ruins which were very small in comparison to Machu Picchu. The most significant building is the temple of the sun, an elliptically shaped building constructed around a large rock. The building is constructed in the Incan way without mortar. The stones were carefully chiseled and fashioned to fit together perfectly. The temple of the sun was positioned so that on the solstices, at exactly the right time of day, sunlight would fall through the center of the doorway of the small chamber at the top of the temple. Most of this chamber has fallen down.

On the bus back to Cuenca, we met a large Ecuadorian family who were travelling from their home town Azuay to Cuenca to do some shopping.  Our introductions began when the oldest girl in the family sat beside me (Chris was sitting behind me).  She said hello and asked me where I was from.  We then began a little conversation in Spanish where I told here where I was from, my name, my husband’s name, my children’s names, ages, etc.  She introduced me to her two 9-year old cousins who subsequently crowded around us.  The girls’ parents were sitting across the aisle, listening to our conversation, and we were introduced to them as well.  As the conversation continued, the little girls commented on my green eyes and Chris’ blue eyes – it was as if they had never seen eyes like ours before.  Then one of the girls said my hair was pretty, and then she touched it and said it was so soft too.   They were also intrigued by our white skin.  One would have thought they had never seen gringos before!  While this all seemed rather innocent and sweet, it did remind me of our experience in Peru a couple of years ago when Chris and I were also swarmed by sweet looking children on Halloween, only to be robbed by them!  So, as much as I was enjoying the interchange with this lovely family, I was also very much on my guard (as was Chris).   Thankfully, we left the bus with all our belongings intact, but still not sure if our interchange was genuine or opportunistic. I hate thinking like this, but unfortunately it is a necessity in order to protect yourself while travelling.

Today we travelled from Cuenca to Guayaquil via the Cajas National Park on the Alianza bus line.  This was probably the nicest bus we have travelled on, with large, panoramic windows and very comfortable seats.  It would have been worthwhile taking this bus just for the scenery alone. The bus was truly a direct bus, no stopping at all along the way, not even to allow vendors on to sell their wares.  We arrived in 3.5 hrs, a full half hour ahead of schedule.

And so our time in Ecuador has come to an end.  Tomorrow morning we are flying to Arequipa, Peru via Lima.  Originally we had intended on doing this trip by bus, but after researching our options, we decided we would prefer to travel 3,000 km in the comfort and speed of a plane, rather than roughing it on a multi-day bus trip….what can I say, comfort and safety at the expense of adventure is sometimes the more prudent way to go.

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On Monday, we said our final good-bye to Quito and travelled 4 hours south by bus to Baños.  This small town, nestled in a valley within the Andes in Central Ecuador, is known as the “Gateway to the Amazon” as it is located on the Pastaza River in the Amazon River basin.  The town sits at the base of the largest volcano in Ecuador called Tungurahua, also known as “The Black Giant”. The 5,023 meter-high volcano provides a lush and unique backdrop full of dramatic waterfalls, deep river gorges, and dense vegetation that attracts nature and adventure lovers alike.

This volcano is active;  after a long period of quiescence, the volcano entered an eruptive phase starting in 1999, that is ongoing as of 2011, with major eruptions on 16 August 2006, 6 February 2008, 28 May 2010, 4 December 2010 and 26 April 2011.  This is no trivial matter – even the free tourist map includes the town’s evacuation route in the event of an eruption. The picture to the left captured the magnificent eruption of 1999. This sleeping giant did not awaken during our brief visit to Baños.

In spite of the close proximity to an active volcano that can blow its top at any moment, tourists and locals flock to this region for the plethora of adventure activities available, such as white water rafting, canyoneering (propelling oneself down the side of waterfalls), mountaineering, puenting (more about that later), cycling, horseback riding, and bungee jumping. The small town hosts over 60 tour agencies catering to both adventure and thrill seekers.

After settling into our hostel, La Princesa Maria (our cheapest accommodation to date at $7 per person per night), the son of the hostel owner graciously offered to give us a tour around town. Within a half an hour we had our bearings and knew where to find the the best restaurants, the tourist office, as well as the grocery store.  We are now regularly making our own food at hostels in an attempt to eat more nutritiously, although it actually costs more this way.  In spite of the cost of the hostel, it was actually very comfortable.

Next on the agenda was to check out some tour agencies to decide how to spend the next day. There were tons of activities and organized tours to choose from. After considering many options, we decided we would rent mountain bikes for the day ($7 each – we splurged an extra two bucks on good equipment, including proper helmets, instead of paying $5 for crappy bikes and no helmets).

On Tuesday, undeterred by the gloomy, cool weather, we left Baños at around 10:00 am via “La Ruta de las Cascadas”, route of the waterfalls.  We were heading towards the town of Puyo, 60km away, just on the edge of the jungle. This route boasts dozens of waterfalls within the first 22km, the highlight being Del Diablo, so named because the rock face looks like the devil.  The majority of this newly paved road is downhill with intermittent uphill sections that provided just enough of a challenge. As we headed out of town, we were in awe of the stunning scenery all around us.

Within a half hour, it started to rain. We pulled over at the next waterfalls just as the rain turned into a downpour.  It just so happened that a “Tarabita” ride as well as zip lining were offered at this location. With memories of the “Tarabita” in Mindo still fresh in my mind, there was no way I was going to do it again, especially if I didn’t have to get to the other side.  But lots of other people were willing to give it a try.  We stayed dry under a sheltered area and watched the zip liners and the “Tarabita”.

As for zip lining, well, I've done that before and had fun doing it, but this took zip lining to a whole new level as you can see from the video below. As we waited out the rain under cover, we watched the zip liners plunge fearlessly towards the deep gorge; even a 60-year old grandmother joined in the fun!

Just when we were beginning to wonder if our cycling day was bust, the rain came to a stop and the sun even peaked out a bit.  This was our cue to get on our bikes and get moving.  As we continued to the next waterfalls, we navigated the roads carefully.  We shared the road with regular traffic – cars, trucks, buses, transports – which was a little nerve racking at times.  Ecuadorian drivers seem to be in a rush and are always trying to pass the guy in front.  And they show a blatant disregard for the number of lanes on a road – for instance, it is not uncommon to see 3 or even 4 cars all passing each other in opposite directions on a two-lane road.  You need nerves of steel, especially on a bike. And you need to focus, as there was a steep, concrete ditch on the edge of the road.  One misstep would land you in some pretty serious trouble.

Along the way were tunnels carved right into the mountainside.  After the first tunnel which we went through on our bikes, there were side roads that circumvented the tunnel, especially designed for bikes and smaller vehicles.  These side roads proved to offer some of the best views along the way.  We took our time, stopping often to take pictures.  Everywhere you turned was a perfect picture.

As we passed over a bridge, we stopped to watch a guy getting ready to go “puenting”, which literally translated means “bridging”.  Similar to bungee jumping, yet different in that after you have jump off the bridge and experience the free fall, there is no bounce like in bungee jumping.  You swing from side to side.  Jumpers are hooked up to a harness around their shoulders and legs. From there they are connected to a number of ropes and carabineers. The ropes are set up in a way that there are braking mechanisms that allow for the swing as opposed to the bounce.  Apparently, this extreme sport began as an exercise to help rock climbers overcome their fear of falling.  It is now a very popular sport amongst thrill seekers looking for an adrenaline rush.

We watched in anticipation, not quite sure where the guy was going to fall.  As he jumped off the bridge, my heart practically stopped as he did a free fall towards the rocky river below.  The local guys were cajoling Chris and I and a few other cyclists (who just happened to be Canadian) to give it a try. Not a chance!  But, I did learn a new Spanish word, loco, which means crazy.

When we reached the Del Diablo waterfall, we locked up our bikes and hiked down to the base of the waterfall through humid, moist jungle-like vegetation.  The thunderous waterfall was deafening, reminding me of Niagara Falls.  It was possible to crawl through a narrow path to stand behind the waterfalls – pretty cool, and wet too!  By now, it was mid-afternoon and the sun was out in full force. It was sweltering.

After hiking back to the top, we were pretty hot and tired.  How convenient to find a truck offering trips back to town, bikes and all, for $1.50 per person.  A total of nine cyclists took advantage of the offer.

Since we still had some time left, we toured around town on our bikes and found the location of the infamous natural hot springs and thermal baths for which the town is named.  After dropping off our bikes, we walked around town checking out the Basilica, the artisan market, and the main square.  Then we stopped to soak in the sunshine and do some people watching while enjoying an icy, cold beer on a patio.

After supper, we indulged in the therapeutic waters of the Piscinas de La Virgen where the pools are naturally heated and infused with high amounts of minerals by the volcano, reputed to offer many health benefits and healing powers.   Three pools were available: one that was steaming hot, one that was frigid cold and one that was just right.  We cycled (no pun intended) between the three pools for about an hour and left feeling simultaneously relaxed and refreshed.  Sleep was not far off for me that night.

Note:  I added a video clip to the last blog posting about our hike to Cotopaxi.  I think Chris did a great job capturing the essence of the hike on video.

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After two failed attempts due to illness (first Chris and then myself), we finally hiked Cotopaxi on Sunday.  Before I share the details of that excursion, I think I should provide an update on my health as some of you may be wondering what happened after my visit to the doctor earlier in the week.  On Thursday morning, I had a colonoscopy performed at the Clinica Pinchincha by Dr. Coba, the doctor recommended by our friends Eduardo and Paolo.  I had to fast for 24 hours in advance and induce a colon cleansing by drinking a horrid concoction that tasted a lot like Buckley’s Cough Syrup; imagine drinking a bottle of Buckley’s in one sitting. It was all I could do to keep the stuff down and not throw it up. For me, that was the worse part of the whole experience.

When I arrived at the clinic on Thursday morning, I was immediately advised to get into a hospital gown and was then put on a guerney and wheeled into a surgical room.  Keep in mind that while the doctor speaks very good English, the hospital staff do not speak a word and there was no sign of the doctor at this point.  A team of 4 got to work hooking me up to: the automatic blood pressure machine, the oxygen (with the plastic oxygen tubes in my nose), the cardio machine (with the electrodes attached to my chest), a blood oxygen and pulse sensor on my finger tip, and an intravenous line.  As I lay there being poked and prodded, I wondered if there was a mix-up – was I perhaps confused with a patient requiring open heart surgery.  From what I knew of the procedure and how it was done in Canada, this prep seemed a little excessive.  My knowledge of Spanish medical terminology is zero, so I was quite helpless to ask questions.  The only thing I could think of was to ask if Dr. Coba had arrived.  I figured as long as I had the right doctor, then I had a pretty good chance that the right procedure would be performed.  Sure enough, Dr. Coba arrived with the anestesiologist who subsequently administered enough anesthetics to completely knock me out.  The next thing I knew, I was waking up in recovery, listening to the doctor explaining to Chris how everything went.

The colonoscopy revealed a healthy colon, with some small internal hemorrhoids.   In the doctor’s office the next day, Dr. Coba suggested the hemorrhoids may have been the culprit for the bleeding, but he speculated that it was probably a bacterial infection that was cleared up from the round of antibiotics I had taken the previous week.  Either way, he said my colon was healthy and he saw no reason for us not to continue our travels. He provided a written medical report, complete with colour photos and a DVD – relax, I’m not going to include any video clips here, but at least I have proof that they indeed performed a colonoscopy while I was under. One more thing, the insurance folks acquiesced to Chris’ logical arguments for coverage and advised us the colonoscopy and associated costs would indeed be covered. On Monday, we found the Post Office and sent a package of documentation and receipts by registered mail. I hope it reaches its intended destination!

So with that out of the way, we arranged to hike Cotopaxi on Sunday with a private guide, Henry. We left early in the morning under grey skies, but with surprisingly good visibility.  As we travelled 2 hours south on the Panamerica Highway, along “Volcano Avenue”, Henry pointed out the names and heights of the various volcanoes.  We learned there are 79 volcanoes in Ecuador, of which 12 are currently active. Cotopaxi is the highest active volcano at 5897m. It is a stratovolcano (very similar to Mt. Fuji or Mt. Sashta) with an almost perfect symmetrical cone, rising from a highland plain of 3800m and covered by a mighty glacier starting at a height of 5000m. The side of the cone has deep valleys scoured by lahars. The summit crater is 600m x 800m in diameter and several hundred meters deep.   The last recorded eruption occurred in 1904 and in 1975 the volcano awoke for a short time but did not produce any spectacular events. In the last few years fumarolic activities and sulfuric emissions increased and ice around the inside rim and on the southeastern side of the cone started to melt away.  We figured we were pretty safe that an eruption would not occur while we were hiking.

Originally we considered doing a two-day summit trek, something we have never done before.  After seeing the groups on the mountain preparing for that trek, I honestly don’t know what we were thinking.  Let’s just say that as we approached this majestic, daunting volcano, we were both happy with our decision to just do a single day hike.  This mountain was big, and the trek to the summit required skills, gear and clothing we simply did not possess. I’m glad we realized this earlier rather than later.

We entered the south entrance of the park which is supposed to have a better road than the north entrance.  We travelled about 15 km along the worst road we have ever been on until the car could simply go no further.  Literally. Chris even tried to push it but to no avail.  The loose dirt road resembled a ski hill with advanced mogels making it completely impassable, unless you were in a 4-wheel drive, which we were not.   So that was that.  Out we got, and started our hike well below the designated trail head.

Our hike began at an altitude of approximately 3800m – already 1000m above the altitude in Quito.  Our goal was to hike to the start of the glacier, at about 5000m. Normally, you would want to acclimatize a bit before the ascent, but our guide recommended we start right away while the visibility was still good. So off we went.  This was a difficult hike.  It was a vertical climb, increasing our altitude with every step.  At 4,400m, I was struggling.  I felt light headed and weak in the knees.  My heart was racing.  We slowed our pace to a crawl, and stopped regularly to let our heart rate settle.  It felt like we were sprinting around the block, pausing to catch our breath, only to sprint again – yet we were walking at a snail’s pace.  I was more than happy to wait for Chris whenever he stopped to take a photo.

As we ascended, the wind howled incessantly and the temperatures dropped.  I bundled up with my wind breaker, headband and light mitts.  At 4800m, we reached the refugio which is a building that serves as a rest station for both day and summit hikers alike. We had a simple sandwich and a cup of steaming hot chocolate to warm us up. This reminded me of drinking hot chocolate while skating on the canal in Ottawa in the winter.

From the refugio, it was another 200 vertical metres to the glacier.  At this point, I was feeling really good.  I seemed to have acclimatized quite quickly and was no longer feeling light headed. Chris, on the other hand, who was feeling fine to this point, started to deteriorate as we began our ascent to the glacier.

We went very slowly and 30 minutes later we finally made it – just under 5000m – the highest elevation we have ever reached.  We were rewarded with stunning, panoramic vistas.

After lots of photos, we began our descent, choosing a direct, but more vertical route.  It was rather treacherous as we slipped and slid our way down the mountain side along the loose gravel trail, falling more than a few times.  We were happy to reach the car, satisfied that we had finally hiked Cotopaxi.

Slideshow from Cotopaxi
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It’s hard to believe we’ve been in Quito for more than a week already.  Last Friday we got the results for the stool tests: negative for bacterial infection, negative for parasites, but positive for blood. Bottom line is that we still don’t know why there is blood in the stool.  The doctor from the Emergency visit has advised that if the bloody stools persist, I should have a colonoscopy done. The tricky part is that there can be blood in the stool that is not visible to the naked eye -which was the case with the sample I submitted.  So while I don’t seem to be passing any visible blood in the past few days, who knows if it is persisting.

Our friends from Quito, Paola and Eduardo, arranged an appointment for me yesterday with a gastro/intestinal specialist who is a personal friend of their family.  The doctor was very thorough in taking my medical history and doing a physical exam.  He believes my problems stem from either a bacterial infection or parasites, regardless of the lab results. He also recommended a colonoscopy to confirm this diagnoses.  It is now scheduled for Thursday morning.  It’s incredible how quickly you can get treated here in Quito.  And the costs for medical procedures is a fraction of the cost back home.  We have been given an estimate of about $400 for all costs associated with the colonoscopy.

In the meantime, we’re sitting tight in Quito and taking advantage of this down time to just relax and rest. After more than two months of travelling, we were experiencing some travel fatigue so this forced rest is doing us both a world of good.  That being said, anybody who knows me well will know that I get antsy pretty quickly so we did a couple of excursions last week to help pass the time.

One day, we went on the Teleferico which is a cable car that ascends from 2,950 meters up to 4,050 meters to the summit of Cruz Loma offering a spectacular view of the city and its surroundings including more than 14 peaks of the Andes that is known as Volcano Avenue.  The route takes 8-10 minutes and covers a distance of 2500 meters. Once at the top, you can simply enjoy the views or you can hike 4 kilometers to the peak of Pinchincha Volcano.

Normally we would have done the 4 kilometer hike, but the day we went, I still wasn’t feeling well and had pretty low energy, not to mention the high altitude that can tire you out easily.  So we hiked for about a kilometer, had a little picnic lunch on the side of the mountain, and then made our way back.  It was really cloudy by then so the views were obscured anyways.

On the ride down, just after proudly announcing to Chris that I was not one bit afraid of this cable ride as compared to the one we took when we were in Mindo, our cable car jolted to a stop, leaving us swinging wildly in the air hundreds of feet above the mountain slope.  I was terrified of course and when I looked over at Chris, I could see he was scared too – something I don’t see too often in Chris.   We just sat there for a few minutes wondering what was going on.   Then just as suddenly, the cable car started moving again.  We made some nervous jokes about what could have happened, and then when we were just starting to relax, the cable car stopped again!  This happened 4 times until we finally reached the bottom where we learned that there was an electrical storm on the mountain top and the safety protocol requires the Teleferico to be stopped every time lightening is seen.

Last Saturday, we joined two Swiss girls, Rahel and Amanda on a day trip to Otavalo and the surrounding area.  The day was spent visiting small towns on the way to Otavalo to observe the handiwork and customs of local indigenous people.  We spent a couple of hours at the Otavalo market and then made our way to Cotocachi which is renowned for it’s handmade leather products.  It was a very touristy day, but we had fun with the Swiss girls and made the best of having a guide who only spoke Spanish.  Rahel served as our primary translator – impressing me with her ability to translate from her third language (Spanish) to her second language (English). It also gave me a chance to practice my Spanish.

When we stopped for lunch in Cotacachi, we discussed whether or not we wanted to try the Ecuadorian delicacy, Cuy, or guinea pig.  At $15 a plate, we considered ordering one plate to share amongst ourselves so we could all have a little taste of this special dish. But when we saw the plate of Cuy brought to a neighbouring table, we unanimously decided against it.  What can I say, I’m not the most adventurous eater at the best of times, and when I’m coping with gastro issues, I’d rather play it safe than be sorry.

During this past week we have had some challenges with our accommodations.  We stayed 5 comfortable nights at the Traveller’s Inn but they were booked solid last weekend, so we had to find another hostel.  On the recommendation of a fellow traveller, we made our way to Casa Helbling.  They too were booked solid, but could give us a room each night – a different room that is.  So for three days, we switched rooms each day. What a pain that was!

While staying at these hostels, we were trying to arrange to stay at an apartment we saw advertised online.  The owner was out of the country until Saturday, but on Sunday we were finally able to see it. It is a 3 bedroom apartment, with 2 bathrooms, full kitchen, and living/dining room.  The building is only 18 months old so everything is new. The apartment is rather sparsely furnished, but has all the necessities, including a washing machine.  There is a view of the mountains from every window.  We moved into the apartment yesterday and will stay here for a week for a mere $20 a night – hopefully by then we can be on our way south towards Peru.

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Let me begin this post with this: First, I am fine so nobody needs to worry about me (details are below). Second, I debated whether or not to write this post.  So far, our journey has been a pleasant, adventurous tale that I think our friends and family are enjoying. On Sunday, things didn’t go quite as we planned and it hasn’t been very fun since then.  But this too is part of our journey.  So here’s what happened.

We went to Latacunga last Thursday with plans to hike Cotopaxi and possibly the Quilotoa Loop.  We had booked a guided tour for Cotopaxi immediately upon arrival for Friday, but had to push it out to Sunday because I became sick with what I thought was altitude sickness.  By Saturday, I was feeling much better and even went to the festival. But by Saturday night I was sick again, really sick.  I had diarrhea and was passing a fair bit of blood in my stool.  I was up several times during the night.  I felt lousy. Finally, I popped a couple of tylenol, and took a Cipro as I have been taking Immodium for the past couple of days without improvement.  I had already had an occurrence with blood in my stool three weeks ago, but after a round of Cipro, it looked like everything was OK. You can imagine my concern to see blood in my stool again.  Something was definitely wrong.

When I got up on Sunday, I was still passing blood in my stool and everything passed through me like water.  I felt nauseous, weak, and had no appetite.  I couldn’t imagine hiking a mountain.  With these symptoms I knew I had to see a doctor.  I was pretty upset with this realization as I dreaded the idea of dealing with a foreign medical system in a foreign language.  Chris and I weighed our options and decided we would cancel our hike and go to Quito immediately as it was only two hours away.  Chris arranged for a private taxi to take us there as I couldn’t even think about carrying my pack and dealing with buses.  He also contacted Paola and Eduardo, our diving friends we met in Puerto Lopez who live in Quito.  They recommended the best private hospital in Quito (Hospital Metropolitano) and assured us we would find English-speaking doctors there. Unfortunately, they were out of town so that was the extent of help they could offer at that moment. They later emailed us when they were back in the city asking for updates and offering to help in any way necessary. It was very comforting knowing that there was someone close by if we needed help.

Next, we were in communication with our Health Plan to advise them of the situation. We had to provide a lot of detailed information in order for them to ascertain whether or not this was deemed an emergency.  Either way, we were going to Quito to see a doctor. Their prompt response to proceed to the hospital left me with mixed feelings:  relief that my Plan would cover this coupled with alarm that this was indeed deemed an emergency, even by stringent insurance standards.

Back to Quito we went, back to the same hostel we stayed in when we first arrived.  Talk about coming full circle.  It felt strange to be back in Quito, yet very familiar in a comforting sort of way.  We dropped our bags off at the hostel and then took another taxi directly to the hospital which was only a few minutes away.

The hospital is large and modern, like any hospital in Canada.  We went to Emergency, filled out a form as soon as we arrived, and within minutes I was in a bed talking to an English speaking physician. I was hooked up to an I.V. of saline solution as I was dehydrated, and a nurse took my blood for tests. An hour and half later, the results came back – everything looked fine.  Next step was to be examined by the gastrointestinal specialist who arrived about 45 minutes later.  During this time a urine sample was taken and also sent for tests.  The specialist checked me over and ordered another bag of saline solution, and then said a stool sample was necessary to check for bacterial infection, parasites, etc. These tests would take 1-3 days.  He prescribed three medications that I was to start immediately (total cost: $54.55).  He gave us his business card so we could contact him directly to enquire about my test results. He said blood in my stool was serious and we needed to find out the cause, but since I looked healthy (I had already perked up after the first bag of saline) and the amount of blood I was passing was small, he was comfortable for me to go back to the hostel rather than stay in the hospital overnight.  However, he made it very clear, if the amount of blood increased, I was to go back to the hospital immediately.

We were in the emergency room for a total of six hours during which time I spoke to two doctors, had 2 bags of saline injected into my veins along with a shot of medicine that had something to do with protecting my stomach from an ulcer (I didn’t really understand what it was for to tell you the truth). Blood was taken and tested and urine was collected for testing.  Total cost:  $308.81 payable before leaving the hospital.  So at the end of the day Sunday, I still didn’t know what was wrong with me, but many serious problems had been ruled out based on the blood tests.  And I was now hydrated and already feeling better.  The overall experience was very positive – aside from the language barrier, this could have been any Canadian hospital, except of course we were treated immediately with no wait times whatsoever, and we had to pay the bill when we left.

This morning we submitted my stool sample to the lab at the hospital (another $55.38 charge).  And now we wait for the results.  We are very comfortable in the Traveller’s Inn hostel, especially now that we know we have access to their very clean and very well equipped kitchen.  We are just taking it easy, laying low in the hostel.

The picture below was taken this morning after we dropped of the sample at the lab.  We walked the 3.5 km back to our hostel (all downhill) in order to get some fresh air and a little exercise.  As you can see, it’s not like I’m dying or anything. In fact, I’m already feeling a lot better so I’m certain this is nothing serious, after all, nothing serious ever happens to me.  We just need to get to the root of this issue and resolve it…..and then our journey can continue.

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“La Fiesta de la Mama Negra” is described by Wikipedia as “a well known traditional festival in Latacunga. It is a mixture of indigenous, Spanish and African influences. It takes place twice a year. The first one was organized in September by the people from the markets “La Merced y Del Salto” in honor of the “Virgen de la Merced”. The Virgin is venerated because she stopped the Cotopaxi Volcano eruption in 1742. That is the reason why Latacunga’s inhabitants call her “Abogada y patrona del volcan” meaning (lawyer and boss of the volcano).

The second celebration is a party which all Latacunga’s inhabitants celebrate every year on Independence Day. It is a parade with the participation of well-known people, the army, clergy and others.

Both of these fiestas include a lengthy parade of various cultural characters, all dressed-up in various colors. The ‘mama negra’ is the last person to pass through, which is the culmination of each parade. It is a person with their face painted in black, riding a horse, and spraying the crowd with milk. Homemade strong alcoholic drinks are freely passed between one another along the parade route, which can be quite chaotic, closing the road at times and making the route unpassable.”

The second celebration took place this past Saturday in Latacunga and we were there to experience it first hand.  In fact, we got a lot more than we bargained for.  On the advice of the hostel owner, we headed towards the parade site around 8:30; the parade was supposed to start at 9:00.  It was easy to find the main parade route which passed through several blocks as the roads were barricaded on both sides, and police presence was strong.  People were lining up plastic chairs and stools along both sides of the route, renting them out for two bucks a piece.  You could buy your own stool from any one of the dozens of stool vendors for $2.50 each.  Or you could just find a spot to stand. We walked along the route for a few blocks and found a good vantage point on a concrete step about a foot above street level. We parked ourselves there and waited.  As time passed, the area started to fill up with spectators and vendors selling knock-off Nike caps, sun hats, beer, snacks, and drinks.  Right in front of us, the Australian couple we met at the reserve in Mindo set up camp with their friends. They were equally surprised to see us, although I’m not too sure if they really remembered us.

Just before the parade began, our friends from the Galapagos cruise, Dafne and Jasper, walked right in front of us.  We couldn’t believe it.  We all had a good laugh about who was stalking who, because these were the friends we couldn’t seem to shake in Santa Cruz and ended up spending a lot of time with them.  When we said our goodbyes at the Baltra Airport, we believed that was the absolute final goodbye.  And here they were in Latacunga.  They were leaving in the afternoon to start the Quilotoa Loop, a 200 km route of rough and rugged roads that pass through beautiful, isolated mountain villages and hamlets, many of whose inhabitants cling to their ancient indigenous heritage and ways. There are several popular hiking trails along this route.

Finally, at about 11:30, the first characters in the parade passed by.  Over the next hour and a half, we saw marching bands, musicians, colorful dancers, a host of bizarre characters such as the Angel of the Stars, the Moorish King, as well as Los Huacos, who represent Latacunga’s pre-Colombian heritage, and the Camisonas, colorful transvestites.  Apparently the parade culminates in the arrival, on horseback, of the Mama Negra, the Black Mother, a combination of the Virgin with African deities. The Mama Negra, bearing dolls representing her “children,” is elaborately costumed and from a container sprays milk and water on the parade goers.  We didn’t stick around long enough to see the grand finale.

The parade characters tossed candy to the crowds, and shots of booze were handed out as well. Others didn’t bother with shot glasses and just poured booze down the throats of anyone willing.  After awhile, I observed a pattern to the parade:  First, there was a group of colourfully dressed dancers, followed by a marching band or other musicians, and then the highlight would be a guy carrying a full pig on his back. Men dressed as women would intermingle amongst these main characters along with those dressed in white doing cleansing rituals to unsuspecting spectators along the way.  Once this entourage passed,  it would be repeated again and again with new groups of dancers, musicians, etc.  Each group seemed to represent an association, a store or some other entity.

I was intrigued by the guy carrying the pig. Clearly it was heavy as he would walk only a few steps, twirling around a few times, and then he would stop and rest the pig on a table that was carried behind him by his entourage for this purpose. As he walked, his legs buckled under the weight of his load and his face strained from exhertion. When he rested, he swallowed copious amounts of water (at least I think it was water), smiled for photos, and then mustered up his strength again for another few steps and twirls. This was repeated for the entire length of the parade – a distance of over 2 km.

Restaurateurs set up stalls on the streets, and served Latacunga’s most famous contribution to Ecuadorian cuisine, Chugchucaras; deep fried pork, pork rinds, popcorn potatoes, maize, and plantain.  I practically gagged at the smell of the grease from these vendors!  And of course, beer vendors were everywhere.

By 1:00, we decided to head back to the hostel; we had no idea how long the parade would go on, and we were sweltering under the mid-day sun.  We navigated our way through the crowds trying to find our way to the other side of town, but on every turn our passage was blocked.  After about a half hour of walking pretty much in circles we ran into a group from our hostel, Peace Corps workers that we met at breakfast who assured us they knew their way around town.  They too were trying to get back to the hostel and suggested we join them.  They backtracked towards the parade and before we knew it we were right back to where we had been standing except now we were on the street in the middle of the parade!  Crowds of people lined both sides of the street on both sides of the barricades – and there was no apparent way to exit.  We pushed our way through the sea of bodies; blindly following our Peace Corps buddies, hoping they knew where they were going.

When we ducked into a little restaurant for a reprise, we discovered only two of the Peace Corps group remained; they had lost the rest of their friends in the confusion. Daniel and Hannah suggested we all stop for a bathroom break and a snack before facing the mob again.  We tried a local favourite, chochos – a bowl of small white beans topped with toasted kernels of corn, slivers of red onion and soaked in a vinegar based sauce. Delicious.

Once fortified, we made our way back onto the street and tried once again to find an exit.  It was unbelievable that the parade route had been configured in such a way as to not allow anyone to exit. This was a disaster waiting to happen.  There were thousands of people throughout the parade route, many drinking excessively, and some getting aggressive when their passage was blocked for any reason.  The large police force seemed incapable of controlling the crowds. There were many families with young children and babies in their arms caught in this mix too. Every possible exit point – side streets off the main parade route – were impenetrable as you can see from the photo below.

As we pushed our way through the crowds, we kept getting pulled into the parade. As gringos, we were easy targets – Hannah was nabbed for a “cleansing ritual”, then it was Chris’ turn.  This was all in good fun.

Every few steps, people were trying to pour booze down your mouth or offered shot glasses of who knows what to drink. I had a few sips but gagged at the taste. Chris was grabbed by one of the guys dressed as a woman who was yelling Viva Latacunga, Viva Latacunga. Chris was a good sport about it all.

After two hours of pushing through the crowds, trying to find a way out, there was still no exit in sight.   The parade just kept on coming – more muscians, bands, dancers and strange looking characters. And more rowdy spectators.  It was no longer fun.  We were exhausted fighting the crowds, and I was feeling faint in the heat.  We just wanted to get away from the craziness.

Finally, we saw a few people pass through a barricade to freedom.  We weren’t the only ones trying to get out and all of a sudden we found ourselves caught in a mob forcing their way to this almost imperceptible exit.  The power of this mob was frightening and made me understand how people get trampled to death when crowds lose control. Chris took this shot of the crowds just before the surge began.

And then, we were out.  What a relief.  Nobody was hurt (that we knew of), although Daniel was pick pocketed during this final surge of bodies but he only lost a few dollars. We were all exhausted and made our way back to the peace and quiet of our hostel where we stayed for the rest of the afternoon.

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We landed in Guayaquil late Tuesday afternoon and had plans to travel to Cuenca the next day.  There has been a national holiday this week and it seems like the entire nation has taken the week off for holidays.  As a result, it was impossible to find a room in Cuenca this week.  Even the buses were overloaded and not running their regular schedules.  So we had to decide what to do next.  The options were:

1. Go to Cuenca without a reservation and take our chances.
2. Stay in Guayaquil until Sunday and then go to Cuenca.
3. Go somewhere else – Latacunga was our next choice.
4. Head to Peru.

After weighing the pros and cons of each option, we decided to go to Latacunga.  We had hoped to visit this city when we were in Quito, but because Chris was sick, we never made it.  Latacunga is an hour and a half from Quito.  It is 2,760 m above sea level (similar to Quito).  Its climate is normally cold and windy, due to the neighbouring snowclad heights, and the barren, pumice-covered tableland on which it stands. The active volcano Cotopaxi is only 25 kilometres away, and the town has suffered repeatedly from eruptions. Founded in 1534, it was four times destroyed by earthquakes between 1698 and 1798. People use Latacunga as a base to access the Parque National Cotopaxi, the infamous Saquisili market, and the Quilatoa Loop, an isolated route that passes through the mountains, and small villages with colourful markets.  Our plan was to hike Cotopaxi from which the views are supposed to be spectacular.

On Wednesday, we took the city bus to the bus station to figure out which bus we needed to take and hopefully buy our tickets for Thursday.  You may recall that the bus station in Guayaquil is huge, with almost 200 bus companies represented.  We thought it would be easier to figure out the tickets without our heavy packs on our backs.  Good decision on our part.  At the bus station, there were hundreds of people, lined up at every kiosk.  It was absolute chaos.  We found two companies that had buses to Latacunga – neither were selling tickets in advance.    So much for that idea.  At least we knew where to go the next day.

I decided to cook on Wednesday, the first time since leaving Canada.  The hostel we were staying at, DreamKapture, was very comfortable and had a little kitchen that was reasonably clean although not very well equipped.  Chris was less enthusiastic when I announced I would be cooking meals today – lunch and dinner, but I talked him into it anyways.  We shopped at a grocery store that reminded us of a Walmart where they sold everything from tires to milk.  Food was cheap especially vegetables.  We had tuna sandwiches for lunch and I made a spaghetti-like pasta dish with salad for dinner.  Everything turned out great, except there was way too much food at dinner time.  I invited other guests at the hostel to join us, and before you knew it, all the food was gone.  It was a very homey atmosphere that night.

Thursday we awoke early to get to the bus station for 6:30 but unfortunately, I was in no condition to travel.  Yup, my stomach was off and I only had my cooking to blame!  Chris’ stomach was also off, but not as bad as mine.  I was horrified to think I may have made half the hostel sick too.  At breakfast, nobody else complained of stomach problems, so I hoped maybe it wasn’t my food.  I really didn’t want to stick around to find out either, so we headed out to catch the 10:00 bus.

The 6.5 hour bus trip took us north back through the Andes mountains. The scenery was stunning.  We arrived in Latacunga amidst a downpour – the first hard rain we’ve been caught in, and of course, our rain gear was at the bottom of our packs.  It was impossible to get a taxi in the rain so we trudged in the pouring rain 1.5 kilometres to our hostel loaded down with our packs.  We were now at a high altitude and I was huffing and puffing, feeling almost light headed under the weight of my pack.

Thankfully, we made reservations in advance at Hostel Tiana.  There is a big festival on Saturday (Mama Negra), and the town is booked solid.  A few people have camped out in their sleeping bags on the sofas in the outdoor lounge area – a little frosty with night time temperatures around 10C.    We had a private room the first night, but the next two nights we would be sharing our room with two German girls.   This would be our first experience at dormitory style accommodations. And our first local festival.

Thursday night I succumbed to altitude sickness – nausea, fatigue, body aches.  Add this to my still upset stomach and I was not in good shape.  By mid-afternoon Friday, I was starting to come around. I’m sure I’ll be good as new for the festival tomorrow.

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