Apologies. I've been a little tardy, mates, with the old blog posts and emails, but I´ve been really busy what with time consuming bus journeys across Ecuador, in and around the equator, and meeting up with my mate Trudi from Washington DC to go to the GALAPAGOS ISLANDS!!!
I feel obliged to give you an
"Unfeasibly Large Blog Post" Warning. So you might want to settle in with a cup of cocoa, a light snack and your slippers before starting this one.
To catch up, the last fortnight or so was a game of two halves really, to use the old soccer saying. With the exception of some of the people I have met on this trip, you are all painfully aware that without acupuncture my body is a gynaecological disaster. Have I mentioned Sass my acupuncturist and just how much I love her? And so it was... So when I could actually stand up straight without crying or throwing up, I made my way across the country, from the tranquility of Vilcabamba with Taiga (Wyoming), Henry (Aus), Elska (Holland) and Ollie (Ireland) to the beautiful colonial town of Cuenca, and eventually to the capital, Quito, the entire old town having been designated a world heritage site.
From Cuenca, Taiga and I travelled to Riobamba, the Sultan of the Andes. I try to keep this blog informative and as light as possible, but you all know I have my moments. I thought long and hard about including this bit, but if those nieces and nephews of mine are reading this I really want them to think about how lucky they are as they write those Christmas lists. But also how interrelated the world is, how what people do in one country affects others. I don´t expect Mollie (2) to delve into the philosophical aspects of this just at the moment. She is excused.
This is a bit stream of consciousness, forgive me, but occasionally I am really touched by someone, for good or bad. I often know immediately if I am going to feel close to someone, or I feel certain that they are sincere or honest, or some other quality I respect. Also travelling gives you lots of time to think, and as you know, for me part of the reason for the experience is the challenge to complacency of my thoughts and opinions, to what I think is right or what I believe to be happening in the world.
I get quite angry sometimes when I meet people travelling. Perhaps disheartened is a better word. There´s a particular type of traveller that seems to me to treat it as a tick list - climbed that mountain, rafted that rapid, drunk that bar dry, and so on. They don´t meet the people and spend time in the countries and think about the politics of what they experience. Equally you meet wonderful people, of course, as I have. Sometimes an experience just really touches you and you are reminded that many of western society's values and concerns are crass - soaps, working for that big house and flash car, what the Beckhams are up to. We take so much for granted and don´t think about the situation of, for example, the population of Ecuador, where 70% of people are living below the poverty line. Usually I can see it, perhaps re-evaluate my political opinions, but not get too upset by the poverty here in South America. It´s a fact of life. You have to accept it, acknowledge it and not let every situation you see bother you. There´s certainly no point in ineffective pity. You either do something about it or stop whinging.
But there was a boy in Riobamba who was no more than 6 years old and he just really affected me. It was a Saturday and a carnival day. This is my western priviledged paradigm, I know, but he should have been out playing with his mates, not working to feed his family. And before you say it, I know we shouldn´t be encouraging child labour by buying their services. A lot of the children here crowd around you, grabbing your bag, asking for money. He didn´t do that. He was so young and yet had a sort of pride and dignity. He wanted 25 cents to shine my boots. He needs the kind of money we don't even notice losing. I gave him 2 dollars and he couldn't look at me. As I walked away I turned back and he smiled and looked at me, Taiga my travelling companion said, as though no-one had ever been so kind to him in his life. Two dollars. I just absolutely felt kicked in the gut for days. I feel it as I'm writing about him again. It really threw me a curved ball, as they say. Here I am travelling the world spending more money on lunch than his family lives on for a week. I don´t quite know what to make of how awful I felt thinking about him and his life. I went straight off on my criminally expensive Galapagos trip. I have no right to expect my nieces and nephews to think anything! What a hypocrite really. That guilt - it's obviously in these celtic genes.
Let's lighten up...
Travelling in South America is somewhat challenging at times. I was very pleased to have Taiga as my companion for the epic around Ecuador journey from Cuenca to Ingapirca, and then from Riobamba to Baños. Ingapirca is the most significant Inka ruin in Ecuador. For that reason alone it is interesting. In grandeur the ruin does not compare to the sites in Peru, but we have to remember that Cuzco was the centre of the Inka empire. Their sphere of influence in this area was minimal by comparison.
The journey from Riobamba to Guaranda, Ambato and Baños took us through some of the most spectacular scenery I have seen on this trip around Volcan Chimborazo, the highest mountain in Ecuador. The journey was shocking. Literally. The road was bumpy, twisty turny (you´re sensing a theme), skirting the edge of cliffs with sheer drops, in pea souper fog, seemingly without the aid of shocks, and alarmingly from about half way through, with the rather disarming smell of burning brakes. There´s obviously some sort of Jungian collective consciousness of travel knowledge here that no traveller or travel book is privy to. You arrive in Guaranda and eventually discover that the bus terminal is in fact a set of traffic lights at an intersection half way up a hill almost on the edge of the town. Who knew?
The journey along that road to Ambato is breathtaking. Tiny farmsteads, people growing food and raising animals on hills so steep I could barely walk them. Then you arive in Ambato and are dropped off at the " bus for Baños". Some amount of aimless wandering later, it becomes clear that what actually successfully gets you to Baños is then to hail a taxi, which takes you to a roundabout (that's a gyratory for my american friends, I think) upon which women are selling fried pigs innerds. Buses then tear around the roundabout screaming out their destination. If that is also your desired destination you frantically wave your arms about hollaring, "Si, Si", and they screech to a halt collecting you and your luggage in about a millisecond and off they go...they take no prisoners.
We arrived in the picturesque, if somewhat touristy, town of Baños, settled by the river at the bottom of a magnificent valley surrounded by seven hills, one of which is the very active Volcan Tunghurua. The town is currently on orange alert after an eruption last year. The "Hard Core Three" (Taiga, Henry and Ollie) went off for a 3 day climb of Cotopaxi. Elska and I, sensibly aware of our limitations, stayed in Baños, and decided on a 4 hour walk through the forests on the side of the volcano and to the seemingly compulsory religious icon overlooking the town. In this case it is a cross which is illumintaed at night thus appearing to be floating in the heavens. We followed it with a spot of light lunch. Perfect. The next day, what was supposed to be a pleasant two hour stroll before I caught my bus to meet Trudi in Quito turned into a repeat of the Vilcambamba incident, cubed.
Along with Aussie Robert who is, shall we say, a keen hiker, we set off for this caminar, a lightness in our step, with the intention of starting up into the hills eventually heading down to walk along the river and crossing the wooden bridge back into town. It went the way of the best laid plans. Four hours later we are on our hands and knees climbing an unbelievably steep hill under complete cover of a passionfruit grove, no light, no obvious means of getting out, at times sliding down further than we have climbed, and most importantly, with my having no chance whatsoever of getting my 1pm bus to Quito. We eventually got out, obviously, and one new bus ticket later I was filthy, scratched and bitten to pieces, but on the 4pm bus to meet Trudi.
It was great to spend time with Trudi. We had the most brilliant brilliant time. We had a day in Quito before leaving for the Galapagos, Quito Independence Day (6th December). This was a great experience to be part of their celebrations. The whole town was on holiday. There were processions and street concerts, traditional folk dances, more stilt walkers than you could shake a stick at. The down side of this national public holiday is that everything that didn´t involve eating or drinking was closed. Swings and roundabouts, I suppose.
To the Galapagos...
We were sailing around the Galapagos Islands for 5 days and eventhough I´m from an Island nation, frankly, I´m not a natural. The first night, most definitely without my sea legs, I walked in one side of the cabin area, the boat lurched and I went straight through and out the other side and almost (artistic licence, Ed) over the side of the boat much to the amusement of my travelling companions.
Los Islas Galapagos - they say it´s the wildlife experience of a lifetime. The animals just have no fear of humans. We got off the boat day after day and walked through an expanse of sea lions with new born cubs feeding and playing, learning how to swim and feed, so inquisitive they came towards you and you had to get out of their way. The mothers are so sensitive to smell that if the cubs were to have human contact they would be shunned because our smell would contaminate their natural scent. The bull male would always be in the water or on the rocks by the edge of the sea protecting his territory.
One day I settled myself on a rock for 15 minutes absolutely mesmerised by a pair of blue footed boobies doing that slow, languorous but deliberate dance, their courting ritual. We saw giant tortoises, and sadly, the last remaining Pinta Island tortoise, Lonesome George. They are doing the best they can to conserve and protect but sometimes nothing can be done. I love tortoises almost as much as monkeys...and that´s saying something. Everywhere you looked there were land and marine iguanas, at times you could barely avoid stepping on them. There were flamingoes, penguins swimming at the side of our boat and friggate birds and red tailed tropic birds flying sometimes within feet of us.
I snorkelled with rays, and sea lions who swam within millimetres, staring you right in the eyes, turning at the very last second sometimes flicking you as they shot off into the distance. One, I swear, did that 'brother' thing, where they come up to you in the pool and spray water at you with the palm of their hand directed at your face [ok...in my case big sister did it as well]. I swam with a turtle for about five minutes following it over and over again down to the sea bed and up to the surface.
On one evening walk the sky was the most stunning pink, full of cotton wool clouds, and we sat for about 10 minutes watching a pair of mating turtles. They floated in and out on the waves, sometimes frantic and slapping, at others actually appearing to be kissing. I felt really priviledged to witness such marvellous moments of nature.
