Ecuador Day 14: Rest Day

Good morning to you. And by that I mean good afternoon.

Two weeks in. and the time is just flying by. From Ibarra where big sister and I took two days to explore the "white" city, we jumped back into deep end of a cold pool that was our country home filled with kids and music and energy. Two weeks in and already I need a vacation from vacationing. 

Of course, little Antonio is still waking up Sis and I every morning at 6:00AM. His boyish presence always slips through the ever so slight crack in the wooden doorway without either one of us noticing. Once in side however, he can never contain himself. 

A mix of curiosity and boredom quickly overpower his stealthy consciousness and begins picking through our suitcases, or messing with the sheets of the bed, only to quickly wake either one of us, usually me, on "accident."  His smiling response says, "You caught me! But can''t you just let me off with a warning?"

Breakfast for champions. While away the last couple of days, Gabs and I were scouting the the white city for all the different local food and local products exclusive to the region. Among the treats and gifts we sampled and bought as gifts is this bottle you see in the back. Its a syrup made from the very delicious maracuya. Below the sweet homemade and bottled syrup lays wheat free banana and blueberry pancakes since Gabi has religiously cut wheat from her diet and feeling much more clear headed for it.

I like the skeptical look of glass give, though I never required the use of a pair to see near nor far. I found these vanity glasses around the first floor of the house and decided to have a little fun. I put them on until someone would notice them, of course it was Zoila. Each kid here has their strengths, and while Zoila is not currently not the strongest reader, her interpersonal skills are through the roof. She found my camera too, and silly pictures ensued.  

This is not my picture, it belongs to a friend of mine who is a big food enthusiast like me. We had talked about this dish at home, my father is a big fan of eating it. This poly-grain savory dish is also only around for just a few weeks in early spring, then it disappears after the last spoonful of the first batch is swallowed down. The presence of just about every grain available to this part of the World is meant to symbolize the beginning of a healthy spring, the prospect of food for the rest of the year. 

It's name is Fanesca, and like I said, this is not my picture, which further means that although we tried to find a place that still sold the dish, by the time we mobilized the family to a spot for dinner, it was literally too late. For shame, learn from my mistakes.

Simba loves days off. Reminds me of a Carlin joke: "Hey, what do dogs do on their day off? They cant just lay around all day like you and me, that's what they normally do."

Siblings have peculiar and unique traditions. For me and Gabs, its playing the old card game Canasta. Its great for us because we can only play in person and when there are two card decks together, which means its rare and special. It also takes three to seven rounds to play, so loosing a battle doesn't mean you'll lose the war, and that builds the tension over the course of the day - which is good for sore loosers like gabs and I. We also use very different strategies that match the other's position nicely, complementing the sibling rivalry perfectly.  

So two weeks in, and now that I think about it, I still have not eaten any Cui. That, and visiting Banos after all these years are the only two things left on my list of things to do. 

Cui, the Ecuadorian barbecued guinea pig on a stick. Oh well, the hunt continues, they tell me the small roasted mammal is especially taste in Ambato where my grandmother's house is, so time will win this round, again. I'll win the war. 

In between outings and day trips, today was all about taking a vacation from vacationing. You know how it goes. Its like a high performance bike: the more expensive the model, the more tech that gets involved, the more specified that integrated carbon frame becomes - its all more presidence for things to go wrong. That is why digital shifting never really took off the ground, too many things could go wrong along the way. Accordingly, there are so many more variables, plans, and schedules (multiplied to the power of people) to sort through on busy days that sometimes the days "wasted" in turn make for stronger and more relived memories than the most precisely planed adventure. 

Thus, I removed my hands from the wheel to enjoy the view.

Love,

-A 

Ecuador Day 13: Painting The Town White

With nothing more than a little slit for a window letting in a beam of light highlighted by the tiny pieces and molecules in the air, we slept in that morning and planed the day from our pajamas. Which, for me, coincidentally, where all white just like the city we had awoken in. Sis, from her side of the room and own bed, threw out that we had better get breakfast, though that she was also at the same time pulling her beanie further over her eyes said she could use more sleep.  

What time we left the apartment, we did not notice. There was no log in the datebook from what time we checked out and left our small backpacks under the receptionist's desk. And really, it didn't matter. Truly, it doesn't matter much anywhere. A major difference between here and there is that here no big clocks loom over your heads like we might see in New York or at any airport. No digital countdown to the end of the day, no major reminder or pressure, and never such the faintest "ticktock" that would convince even the great Captain Hook to reconsider his retirement venture. Hardly ever do you see someone with a watch at all, and if you plan a date or meeting there will always be someone early and someone late. 

How would you design a town? Really? Where would you start, what would you build first, how would you plan the layout of all the immediate requirements and leave space for future modifications? One way to go about all of this is to chose a point, a center, and build around that point. Other plans make use of girds and geometric floor plans. What happened in Ibarra is a little of both. 

This picture is of a palm tree. Its tall and painted white just like all the other palm trees that you will find scattered around the beautiful city. There is nothing outstanding about this palm tree except for the one very overlooked fact that it was, and is, the center focal point used to map out the city of Ibarra. It was from the base of this average tree that distances where measured, streets where arranged and directions given. Today the roots of the tree grow deep under the new asphalt that paves the roads around, and nothing more than a fence yet no sign to passively remind the folks that, although no longer, before grand statues of famous military generals, or obelisks pointing to the sky, or clock-towers consistently syncing people's agenda's, there were trees. Trees that once were the tallest things in the sky way before we ever became bipedal, and hopefully way after we're gone. 

More venturing down unknown allies and wayward streets in search of things to put in our bellies. Hunger is the amazing motivator to try out new cuisine. Along the way, I was still distracted by the architecture of the city. I wanted to stop at just about every building, take a photo, and ponder how much of everything I was seeing was form and how much was function. Lots of both to be sure, can architecture be subjective?

Somewhere along the walk, between food and fruit juice, I was reminded the only time I have every seen such a white city is in the movies. Films depicting futuristic cities, or a once clean Powell street B.A.R.T. station, are manicured with perfect, untouched white gloss. Here, the white is off-white, with shades of dirt in between. Here the graffiti spells out poetic reminders for the love of education, and lovers lost, just as much as the periodic street code names or invisible gangs. Ibarra is what those cities of the future look like now that they are in the past. 

More charming architecture. The flat face, the balconies, the fancy windows, very European.

Straight out from a Dr. Seuss book, this snazzleberrie tree looking thing looks half way between a palm with some large flora poking out from its top-center. Very surreal, never seen anything like this one before. 

UPDATE -  From my loving mother, the plant here is the" agave attenuata and it is called foxtail agave.  This agave doesn't have the spiky edges and sharp points of other agaves.  Agave attenuata is from Jalisco Mexico of high elevation, so it is happy in the mountains of Ecuador."

Lunch rolled around at sometime, and left. We weren't even that hungry when we stopped off to eat these empenadas spontaneously; our noses whiffed the frying of empanadas de verde out of the passing wind, we pearked up our noses and tracked down the side restaurant out of the many street shops isled along the crowded street. Satisfied eyes, our stomachs followed happily.

Like the massive volcano that guards Otavalo, we never got that lost for the gigantic mountain that peeked above all else and pointed us in the correct direction. And similarly, it's paramount, it's tip top peak never revealed itself from the clouds even on the clearest day. 

We bought some local treats to take with us, including some very tasty local blackberry jam famous from Ibarra, collected our bags from the hotel, said our goodbyes and walked the block to the bus station. 

Because this was our first visit to Ibarra and back, we didn't know what bus to catch. But, knowing the language and general rules, we had an idea. So we waited for the Cita Express at 15:00. Smell of fumes from the massive multicolored buses moving in and out of the terminal made us lightheaded, and yet we had to wait. 

At 15:15 we asked around. Apparent Gabi and I were the only ones at the bus stop. Could we really be the only ones waiting for the bus? It seemed unlikely as just across the way crowds of people were jumping on and off slowing buses to anywhere. Yet, again and again, the police, ticket booth, and people told us we were waiting in the right bus stop. Hmm. 

When 15:45 rolled around, my paranoia got the best of me. I whent to go look at some of the other buses around and found one heading just past the towm we wanted to get off at. I rushed back to my sis who waited at the "bus stop" with our bags and we made it on to a new bus we didn't have tickets for. Despite having to move three times, sitting in other people's reserved seats, we were finally on our way home. 

I couldn't sleep, so I watched over my sister's shoulder at the passing countryside in awe. Mountains, rivers, and narrow roads sans rail guards peering down steep cliffs into valleys bellow - the national tourism slogan is right: All You Need Is Ecuador. 

We made it home pretty late, and the family was worried since our arrival was marked by the rising full moon. I hear from my friends abroad that this night there was an amazing eclipse in Europe. By the intense moonlight that night, the eclipse ought to have been beautiful. Such a rare sight, you have to be in the right place at the right time. Still, we enjoyed the moon too, and it was so heartwarming to come home to family who were happy to see us safe and healthy. 

Constant cell phone check-ins when traving abroad do help rest pattering hearts, but the love you feel when making it home after a long trip to welcoming arms and smiles is....incomparable.

Much love to all of you. 

-A

Ecuador Day 12: The White City

Have you ever been infected by the enterobacteria Yersinia Pestis? 

Although modern preventative medicine has stamped out the spread of the bacteria to a great extent, its still an endemic in certain parts of the world and about 4 to 10 cases are still noted yearly in "developed" nations. If the the name Yersinia doesn't ring a bell, then you might know it by its more dramatic name reference: The Plague.

If you happen to live during the first plague pandemic of 541 to about 750 AD or any of the other three up until very recently, or you happen to know someone currently with the infection, or just read stories about what Y. Pestis  can do, then you too would try just about anything possible to avoid it. That's because the bacteria is so easy to be contaminated by. It can be ingested from under cooked meat, it spreads by simple contact, and, its airborne; it can attack your lymph nodes, your cardiovascular system, your lungs, just about any region of your body critical to sustaining homeostasis and life support.

The reason I bring all this up is because Gabi and I spent the night in Ibarra, a town where the buildings of the time were all painted white in order to, that's right, help ward off the plague. Compared to the magic herbs and amulets scripted with protective warnings against the plague and other ravaging diseases, painting your house white doesn't sound that far fetched for the time, especially if your neighbors did the same, and they are still alive.

Today Ibarra is famously referred to as the White City, and it is the capital of the province. Yesterday, we were stumbling around in the dark, trying to find our barrings after a bus ride and didn't pick up on the characteristics of the city. This morning, we are ready to take it all in.
 

The directions we got from the hotel staff to the location of el centro, the center of town, were vague. "Just down this street," he told us in Spanish, "until you reach the main part, then turn left or right." Sure, we said, since that was pretty much what we did last night, and set off. 

Walking down the way, reaching the main part, we snapped a right instead of the left we took twelve hours ago. A few blocks down the way and we weren't sure that there would be too much further in this direction. We were walking by more and more homes and less people. Not to miss the opportunity, Gabi asked a woman walking down the opposite direction if we we're indeed heading toward the center, we were hungry and wanted to eat. The woman, looking more Colombian than Ecuadorian, smiled and told us that we were way off. But, by chance, she was headed there now and could walk with her as soon as she finished paying her phone bill around the corner. 

So we walked, and we talked for about 20 minutes until the presence of people and the smell of food increased. Pointing to what was obviously the city's market, I thought the woman would be off to continue her errands. She didn't. We walked inside together, still chatting away about her life and our travels, all the while leading us deep into the pit of the market place. After a while, I took note that we could no longer see the streets through the stalls, we had deeply penetrated the market place. 

She had lead us straight to were she had wanted - the juice stand. More like a row of juice stands but that didn't matter. There was food behind us, and lots of fresh drink options; we were happy. We bid the kind woman many thank you's and she smiled before turning away and disappearing slowly into the crowed of people.  

Gabi took like a fish to water and selected the juice stand with, reasonably, the most people at it. That was a smart decision and we drank juice (with a free refill of our glasses, the extra juice that was left in the blender that couldn't fit the first time in our glasses) while scouting a good place to sit down and eat breakfast. We landed and ate what you see above, award winning (literally) hornado and tortillas. 

To be honest, even after the great juice and meal, we were still stumped. I mean, we saw some building, that just happened to be painted white, but they were dispersed among other non white buildings and the image of a white city never really came into sudden focus. We were disappointed. Oh well, there were still other things to do we figured, so we took a bus ride out to the big lake adjacent to the city. 

Above you can see the lake that I wanted to walk around but couldn't. The second half along the mountains is reserved only for the locals who have lived there since longer than anyone can remember. And, I forgot to mention, that while on the bus to the lake, Gabi and I passed through the historical part of town and peered quickly upon the truly still painted white part of the city. Without having to even exchange words, we knew that we would jump off the bus early on the way back from the lake, and stroll through what we had come here to see. 

Relaxing lake side. What a great spot for a picnic.

Like the volcanic lake we visited yesterday, this one too sported cranes and other amphibians. It was a joy to simply lay back under the warm sun and measure the passing of time by watching the animals play in the foreground. 

 My older sister, like my mother, has removed wheat from her diet. And so we were super excited to hear that there was a restaurant in town that makes special emapenadas from corn. Lighter and flakier than the ones made with wheat, these were also a little smaller in size but packed more flavor. As soon as we ate them, we wanted more. But, more and newer food was calling us! 

Finally and casually, we walked by more and more white building until we reached what must have been the real center of town. Here, every building was still painted white and looks as though it had not been touched up in years. Unfortunately a white wall is an open invitation to graffiti and tagging.  

All the homes, shops, and churches in this area are all white. Even this administration building in front of a park. Of course, this building doesn't have any tagging and the white paint looks as though it was applied yesterday. 

Its not just the different shades of white that we walked by and enjoyed, its the architecture. The town's ambiance is just so outright and entirely different from the buildings in Japan. 

And whoa to my surprise, we found Mexican food!! I mean, Mexican food can't be that hard of a thing to find or much to be surprised about in South America, but it still gets me as giddy as the first time. The menu had lots of choices to eat, yet what captured my eye more than the food was the tall purple pitcher hibiscus juice. Its too bad that Gabi is off wheat since most all Mexican food uses tortillas in some form; well, besides nachos =) 

Yes, there were lots of choices to select from but there was only item I was going to order and everyone know it. Burrito mojado. 

Somehow we used up the whole day eating empenadas, ice cream, burritos and nachos, shopping for gifts and other trinkets. The Sun set behind the huge mountain whose peak hid above the clouds without notice and the night fell upon us slowly. This is what we looked out onto from the hotel window when we eventually made it home around 10 pm.  


Another full complete day of adventuring for the books. When we walked home again at night, the remarkable white buildings once again faded into obscurity and you wouldn't notice them unless you looked diligently. I fell asleep wondering how well painting a house white would really deter the plague by in-obvious or unpredictable ways. Maybe it was as simple as saying that this city of white was safe or pure against Yersinia Pestis' other dramatic reference, the black death.

-A

Ecuador Day 11: Breaking Up The Family

Rain, it is as part of the life here in the tropics as beach is to Californians. 

The rain kept up hard again last night and in the morning all the dust, dirt, and grime between the aggregate stones forming the street washed away and left behind a brand new city for a brand new day. Its difficult to judge sometimes just when the rain will come. Even Google cant pin down the weather here, all its predictions indicate intimidating thunderstorms and heavy rain, although that is never really the whole case. We are getting more sun than anything else during the day.

New people to meet, a new culture to marvel, sights, food, and animals are all among the list next to the new flora for what is so amazing about visiting new places. I really love the bright colors that radiate from these flowers, contrasted against the wet greens and soggy browns of the forest, there is just no other place like it.  

Sure that mom can recognize some of these, she would really enjoy all the nature here.

Right, ok, not the healthiest breakfast with cheese and bread and pork fried steak, not to mention that I'm really not burning the calories that I used to since I no longer am cycling to work for a few hours a day...oh well, its not like breakfast will be this same every day, right?...

Strawberries might just be my favorite berries of all time. With the seeds on the outside, they are just peculiar enough to enjoy, and they go with everything. Back on the island of Shikoku Japan, a handful of strawberries (no more than ten) sell for 5 dollars. Five!! So, I'm super excited to go back to work and show my students pictures like the one above: maybe about $300 worth of berries to the Japanese market, just laying in the street, never getting a second glance from the walking traffic. 

More market time! Just rows and rows of veggies, fruits, and meat of all kinds...

...even fish! Not sure what kind of fish exactly, I didn't want to interrupt the man with the knife. He looked like a machine, knowing just where to cut, and in the precise order of butchery. Fast and in trance that seemed wholly automatic, I dare not interrupt his rhythm.

I have thought a lot about how I would cycle Ecuador, and I don't think it would be a comfortable ride on my current road bike. The roads, as you can see, would make for a bumpy ride on the thin tires my bike uses, and I have absolutely no suspension. Just looking at this downhill and imagining what the ride would be, and my elbow and knee joints are already disapproving. 



We took the afternoon bus after another round at the textile market to pick up some last minute gifts. Today would be the last day in Otavalo and the plan was to sleep in our own beds tonight. But, since we were here, there was was one last thing we had to go see. We saw one on the way here from El Quinche and now we were a little closer to a big one. That is, a large and loud waterfall.

Thar she blows! You can see the old bridge up ahead, the one with slippery green moss layered over damp stale wood with no hand rails, nothing to hold on to if you happen to loose your balance and take the short trip down the long river. Lucky for us there is a small trail along the side for the kids to traverse and climb right underneath the waterfall. They came back soaked. 

The flow of the water down the fall is boisterous. You can hardly hear what the person next to you is shouting in your ear. That many tons of gallons of water crashing down every second and I am not surprised. Just down the way however, and we find a calm stream of water carrying  down the side of the path. 

Us five siblings looked down at the ground along the way, looking for something. Not too big or small, no incongruous shapes, and for sure nothing heavy. Something too big would not be fast enough, something too small and it would surely sink. If it was not straight, it would delve off course and never win. And something too heavy and it would sink before it was all over. What we were all looking for was the perfect leaf, the perfect leaf to set in the cold water for a river side leaf race. 

Down the way, there was not exactly a spot to stop and play, but that's what us and the kids did anyway. Shoes and pants off without first warning and they were playing in the water by count three.  

It is the dark foreground leading into the light background that helps make this my favorite shot of the day. The trees and shrubs look so well placed to me that they almost appear staged. What else is the barely seen native woman collecting wood in the center. It was unclear as we watched whether she was collecting wood for the evening fire or laying out pieces of wood to dry.

On the bus ride back to Otavalo, big sister and I decided that we were going to keep the trip going, and explore a city that neither of us had visited. A city well off the beaten track of most backpackers. A city closer to the boarder into Columbia than to the Quito. We were going to take a solo trip into Ibarra, a town said to be painted all in white.

Breaking apart from the rest of the family was not something we really wanted to do. I think I can say that Gabi and I really love the kids and love traveling with them. But Ibarra was moving in the opposite direction from home, and not knowing what to expect, Gabi and I announced that we would continue on as the remaining family came home. Tony was asleep when he left, Zoila was sad to see us go and was overly dramatic about our departure as was expected, and Emilie sort of shut down, She'a obviously disappointed about being left behind and not joining her older siblings out on a new adventure. That's understandable. All the same, Gabi and I said our sleepy, overacted, and passive goodbyes, hugged the adults and walked to the bus station to set out a new course.

It was just like one year ago exactly, when sis and I teamed up to explore the Japanese highlands.

We arrived well after dark to a foreign bus terminal and no contact. We weren't quite sure what to see first or where to start, but we knew we had to settle in for a hotel. First thing is first.  

The great mountain that Ibarra rests up against. 

It took us a while to find. We had to stumble around and reason over whether or not we ought to trust a cab to take us to find a worthwhile hotel. Eventually after about thirty minutes of walking around the lit street in and out of the bus terminal. we invited ourselves into a book stand where we made friends with the owner right away. Perfect. He told us that there were indeed many hotels near by that we could stay in cheaply. Now pointed in the right direction, we strapped on our bags and carried on into the night with nothing more than good direction and unsure hopes. 

Really at this point. I was not being too selective. I wanted a place with a lock on the door, and bed. Gabi didn't sound too far off from my mark too. And we did find a place, a great spot. Short walk away, wifi, two beds and cable TV. No time for any of that now, we put our bags down and opted to walk around this mystery city. There was no time to waste.

On edge at first, its always a little uneasy to walk down a strange street in a strange town late at night. Over some blocks of walking, Gabi and I exchanged how and why we felt that this was a safe town and why the initial tense feeling was fading, My explanation was simple: there were cute girls out. To me, seeing a good deal of cute girls walking out late meant that there was a low chance that drunks or pushy guys would be around. The local cute girls would surely not be out if that were the case. But, here they were. It was at least, safe enough for them, and that was good enough for me. 

We walked until we got hungry again, so not very long. And we stumbled into what would be our return food shop for the next two days. Here we ate tortillas de verde, one filled with cheese and the other filled with chorrizo. We ate good that night, and regretted not taking a few of these treats back with us to the hotel to eat in the night/morning. 


And so that was that. We arrived in Ibarra and after a walk and some food returned to our hotel were the TV was turned on as eye lids were closed.

-A

Ecuador Day 10: Hospitable Volcano

There is a scene from the movie Dante's Peak starring a pre James Bond, Pierce Brosnan that scared me as a young kid: a husky man sacrificing his life to save another by jumping into a stream of molten lava feet first. Sounds stupid, just run with it. Anyways, feet first, he begins to disintegrate as soon as he hits the slow stream; legs, thighs waist, everything dissolves into the fiery red inch by hot inch until about his mid chest when (in true magnificent Hollywood style) he finally dies and falls over completely into the magma with a "plop" more than a splash. That's what I think of when I think of volcanoes. Especially active ones. 

When waking up in a new city, its always a good idea to get an early start and go do all the things you would not normally do. And while the market is surely something I would do early in the morning, I would have to take a bus from our home to see it. Today I take a simple 5 min walk. Whats more, each market has its own twist, so I was happy to go explore this unique micro-environment with little Tony, Gabs, and our father.   

You're probably sick of hearing me say it, but I'm not tried of re-living it: its so good to have easy and cheap access to fruit again! Pears, peaches, apples, and dragon fruit - I show no prejudice and take no prisoners!

Apologies to all my Muslim friends, there is a lot of pork to be eaten daily here, and I partake in the samples often. Not that its hard to do, or easy to avoid; if the pork is not right in front of you like this, then its mixed into the beans you're eating, or in the bread roll you bought, or its in the soup broth you ordered. One last note, the pig is cooked whole here. Its a little off-putting if your used to the butcher doing all the work behind closed doors, but somehow the meat just tastes better this way. 

If you've had enough of walking through the textile market place and eating pork right out the hide, take a walk on the wild side and go visit Cuicocha lake at the center of Cotacachi mountain. You'll have to take a cab like us here to get there, but its totally worth it. Its good to be in the back of an open truck again, Japan would never allow this. There are just a few special moments on the road that feel genuine to the traveler's spirit, and hopping in the back of a pickup going to who knows where for how long is for me definitely one of them.

Like most any place where there is a chance to spot tourists, there is an vendor of all things jewelry, dream catchers, music instruments, toys, shot glasses, and so much more. Bargaining expected.  

Aha! Here we are at the lake captured inside this active volcano. The ridge surrounding the lake, and us inside it, is all green with trees and native plants - which is a good sign to us. Like an olive branch, the greenery here is a sign of peace, the volcano although active has not erupted in at least enough time for these plants to grow. It should be safe. At least safe enough for this duck to swim in the water below. 

Wouldn't you know it, there is a boat service that will take us around the inner islands of the volcanic lake. Well, duh - lets go!  Here dad is posed with the classic and immediately recognizable family pose: one elbow leaned on for support with head coupled in hand with a 1,000 meter stare. My grandmother, father, sisters, and I all do it, you've probably seen me do it and not even noticed. Little Antonio hasn't picked up on it yet, but I bet my bottom dollar that he will perfect it by his seventh birthday if not sooner. 

Mama Celia, the Gabster, and I all pose for a little photo time.

So here we go, Cuicocha is categorized active for a reason. Along the water, you can lean out and watch the bubbles of gas that formed thousands of kilometers below the surface rise up through the Earth's mantle crust and up through the water to pop into our breathable atmosphere. That's different than to say the water is boiling, the water is actually only a mere 15 degrees Celsius despite scientists not knowing exactly how deep the lake gets.  

Here we see birds living among the reeds by the marsh leading up to the island. They looked like great cranes but it was hard to tell for sure. There are no fish in the lake, so their diet must consist of something else entirely. Amazing how this vulcano is now hospitable to life where it was once brought an end to it.

No matter what I come across in my travels, Nature always outdoes everthing else. Patterns, colors, shapes, detail, it all is incomparable to almost everything else. 

Ducks and cranes, fruits and berries, water; it's all here to survive from. What's more is huge sun dial to help keep your appointments. 

At the end of the boat ride, dad, Mathi, Celia, Gabi, Zoila, and Antonio lakes up the hill to the mesuem. Emily and I ran. I know I'm not out of shape, but that was a hell of a run. I would estimate us at at least 3000km altitude. 

Reunited at the museum, Gabi and I decided to do a break off and take a hike along the ridge. It was fun and we saw lots of new plants, mom would enjoy her self here we agreed. The walk was rigorous because of the thin air, yet we managed and it felt good afterwards. 

A mossy tree along the volcano's diameter crest. Spooky looking. 

We got to have our lunch once hiking was checked off the list. We asked our pickup cab driver were to eat and he dropped us off at the nicest restaurant in town. Big surprise. As soon as dad saw the menu, we were walking away, looking for a better spot to eat. 

We landed at the food market and Zoila landed this beast of a fried rice lunch. It had every seafood a tsunami would was up on shore, and the dish was aptly named. 

Huskeys are my favorite breed of canine because they are so wolf like. Did you know that all dogs descend from wolves? That's right. 

Food in our bellies, we walked to the bus stop to digest. I was still full by the time we approached the bus stop, yet a little pan dulce sounded like just what the doctor orderd. Filled to the brim, I passed out on the bus and woke up in my Otavalo hotel room. It was a full day of sun and outdoor activities, and I didn't even mention how Zoila disapeared at the market for an hour. 

Best,

-A