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pisati · 5 years

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I’ll admit, it’s sometimes a little hard to know where I stand with you. I do take your reassurances at face value, of course, and I know I often need reminding. but I also try to remember that you’ve been through a hell of a lot emotionally. I only know what you’ve told me; I don’t have your lived experiences. there’s a lot that you’ve gone through that I don’t even know about, and you don’t have to tell me about it-- it’s enough to know it happened. I can’t expect you to be as open about emotion as I am, or even able to feel things like I do (and I’ve been pretty dulled myself). maybe I’ve been reading you wrong at times; it’s hard to, especially through text. but I can hear it in your voice sometimes, I think. something flat. could be exhaustion, could be everything. of course I forgive your lacking in reciprocal effort; I appreciate all that you do give me. I know you’re trying, and you’re trying because you want to, not because you think I expect you to. it’s not easy. but you know as well as I do that shrugging everything off and staying in the emotionless void isn’t healthy for you.

from what I can at least guess about you, you’re a genuinely kind and caring person who has had a lot of his emotional innocence, so to speak, torn from him. you’re right: your emotion isn’t worthless. but that’s something you have to internalize yourself. I’ve been in similar dark places, but I don’t think it’s near to the degree you have. not that pain is a competition; it’s not. I just know that I can’t fully understand the things you’ve been feeling, or... not feeling. regardless, I know you know it’s not healthy and you want to move forward from it, and I’m glad to be there for you while you work through it. that’s a kindness I think anyone dealing with trauma deserves. I also very much appreciate that we can have both silly and serious conversations; even just following my blog you already know more about me than a lot of my irl friends. you’ve become someone I also care very much about and I don’t like seeing you in pain-- though of course it’s not my place to do more than I can, or more than you want me to. I’d still like to be there for you regardless.

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anywho! travel plans. like I said, most of the issue is logistics. I’m looking at potential flights and I think a reasonable roundtrip is about 9 days; including 2 for travel, that’s a full week for adventuring. I’m flexible, of course, but I’m not the one with a job, lol. I don’t know what airlines would be best (though I did just find a flight on Icelandair, one 55m stop in Keflavik, July 10-19, for $1100 roundtrip), so if you wanna help out with searching you’re more than welcome to take a look yourself. I’d prefer shorter layovers if possible; none of those 27h total trips, lmao. nothing’s direct from Dulles unfortunately, but it is a major international hub, like JFK, so often I’ll be able to find flights to other major destinations from here. which is gr8, because it’s literally a 10-15 minute drive from my house. we have two other major airports here: Reagan national and BWI. personally I prefer Dulles because it’s closer, but if you can find a cheaper and/or direct flight out of the other ones, I’ll find a way to get there lol.

I’m going to be in PA for farm jam from, likely, July 3-7th. I’ll have to see how I feel about what day I’m coming home. I may or may not want to stay til the 8th. but anyway I don’t want to leave on an international flight *too* soon after I get home. I’ll have to drive 4 hours home after spending 4 days camping in the woods on a farm, unpack from camping, and then pack again, and I only have so much energy. I’ve done it before (got back from Iceland and drove to PA the next morning), but it’s not terribly fun. I think if I can make myself come home on the 7th, or at least early on the 8th, I can leave the 10th at the earliest. I’m going to look at July 10-19 as my reference, since that’s also one of the cheapest roundtrips that I can find (for some reason wednesdays are cheaper traveling days?), but those days might change a little. I’ll let you know if I decide on something for sure, but if you want to look up Airbnbs (or if you can find cheaper flights, lmao), you’re welcome to use the 10-19th as a general reference point as well.

I have no qualms about Airbnbs. it would be easier booking-wise to get the flight and hotel together, but I’m cool with having a little place out of the city for the week. the genuine experience, as you say, lol. the coast would be lovely, but I’ll take whatever you find that you like! I’ll leave that to your expertise. are we splitting the cost for that, or.. how do you want to do that?

as far as itinerary, I’m down for everything. I got real excited about that owl sanctuary, lol. anything with animals is great with me. can we see highland cattle too?? I do know I’m gonna want to check out one or two of the record stores in Glasgow; I think that’s my new Travel Thing, lol. going to a city, checking out the record stores. gotta bring records home. that’s my kinda souvenir. everything else, I’m down for too! I love learning about history, seeing old churches and castles, historical sites, all that jazz. I love the sound of that island too! I totally get what you mean about not doing all the typically touristy stuff. I mean, I live just outside Washington DC. I know the tourist traps are a waste of time and money and they’re not the ~real experience~. I love the sound of not taking the beaten path, though. and how often do you have a personal local tour guide? lmao

the only worries I have, really, are my energy levels and my traveling anxiety. neither of those are your responsibility, but they do affect me literally every time I travel, even if I think they won’t.

the anxiety has its roots in my emetophobia, for sure. for some reason my brain feels like the worst thing that could possibly happen is me getting sick while I’m traveling, and then of course I get nervous about it, and what accompanies the nervousness? nausea. shit writes itself. I know it happens, I’m very conscious of it, but that doesn’t stop it. I’ll bring klonopin as a security blanket, likely won’t need it, but mostly what helps is just, like, making sure I eat something, lol. I don’t tend to eat much when I travel anyway, but not eating tends to make the problem worse and I need something in my stomach, obviously. being distracted helps too. something to focus on, someplace to go or see. I’ll let you know how I’m feeling, though, so don’t worry about needing to check in on me. I’m not a nervous wreck all the time.

then there’s the energy levels. I have no earthly way of knowing what they’re going to be like in July. right now I don’t have much energy to do much of anything, but sometimes, especially if I’m subconsciously nervous, I won’t have an off switch. and sometimes I say “not a lot of energy” but I push myself anyway and surprise myself. it’s incredibly hard to predict my day-to-day now, without the traveling nerves, and it’ll be almost impossible to predict from now if something in my medical future changes. so, basically, it’s something to keep in mind but nothing to control for.

I’m pretty low-energy in general, but I can walk a good bit, so don’t worry about pushing me! I’ll let you know what I can handle. it’s probably safe to put one big thing in a day, 2-3 tops if they don’t have much travel time between them. better to leave time open to fit in more things anyway than to over-book and not be able to get to them all. I never know what my sleep’s going to be like, but I can almost guarantee it’s going to be terrible. it usually is when I travel. this also isn’t your responsibility, so don’t let me wreck your sleep schedule for when you have to get back to work, lol. I’m fine staying up late by myself if I’ve got wifi or if I bring a book or something; I can’t expect you to have the same crazy erratic sleep schedule as traveling-me. I’ll let you know if something is or isn’t okay, what I’m up for, all that good stuff. so I’d say definitely plan in all the stuff you want to do plus a few record shops, but leave some wiggle room for late starts, fitting more things in, or the possibility that I might not be able to get to everything in a day. not saying I’ll be struggling that hard, but wiggle room is always good so no one is disappointed lol

anyways I have no worries that it’ll be a great trip 😊literally everything you mentioned sounds wonderful, and I’m already excited! I do worry slightly that we still barely know each other and have never spoken face to face, lol. but I’m sure that’ll happen in due time before July. it’s one thing to meet an internet stranger in your city, but in another country? as a solo female traveler that does make me nervous. I like to think I have a pretty decent sense of the kind of person you are, but you really never know. it’ll certainly help ease my mind to get to know you better over the course of the next few months.

also... I don’t want to alarm you and I’m probably not supposed to tell you at all, but I’d rather be upfront about it. the background check I’m currently undergoing for my [future] job requires me to inform them of every non-US citizen I have “close and continuing contact” with. you and I weren’t talking yet when I filled out the background check form, but I do have to keep them updated or risk losing my chance at the job. they won’t do anything with the information I give them; everyone has friends and family in other countries, and the US doesn’t have any beef with Scotland that I’m aware of, lol. but I will need to give them basic information, especially if I’m leaving the country to visit. I would have to do it even if I weren’t planning on visiting and we kept talking, but this seems like an appropriate time to bring it up, lol. this is standard procedure for federal background checks here; literally everyone trying to get a cleared job has to do it. the form itself is open-source, the PDF is the top result on google, and I can send it to you so you can see exactly what they ask me to provide, if you’d like. I’m not going to ask you for more information than what you’ve given me, and they do take “I don’t know” as an answer. if it’s not okay with you at all, though, then we’ve got some major problems.

soooooo with that out of the way, lmao

if I think of anything else I’m sure I’ll bring it up when I think of it. the only question I might have right now is what should I bring, besides the essentials? a book, maybe. a crochet thing? perhaps? laptop? (probably no on that one, though, right?) uhhhh power adapters? the electrical plugs are definitely different there, yeah? any american things I can pack into a suitcase that you’d like me to bring? lol

speaking of american things. I’ve already got a small list of little things I could pack into a box and ship out there and I think you’ll like them!! how do you feel about sweets? I’m not talking junk food per se, like all the ridiculous candies we have here. just sweet in general? and I know you said not spicy, but how about seasoning? what kinds of seasonings do you like and dislike?

I’ll start looking into flights more seriously soon, as long as you’re okay with the background thing. I can’t give you too many details about all that, mostly because I don’t have them, but we can absolutely talk about it if it’s a concern.

so, yes. let me know when you have time to talk and we can start planning 💕

#oops it's kinda long sry

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ccassen · 7 years

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Leaving Honduras, Florida for Christmas, and a Month in Peru

Roatan, Honduras: October 15-November 5 Miami layover Santo Domingo/Bayahibe, Dominican Republic: November 6-9 Las Terrenas, Dominican Republic: November 9-16 Samana, Dominican Republic: November 16-18 Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic: November 18-19 Philadelphia layover Roatan, Honduras: November 20-December 19 La Ceiba, Honduras: December 19-22 San Pedro Sula, Honduras: December 22-23 Florida: December 23-January 3 Lima, Peru: January 3-5 Cusco, Peru: January 5-9 Aguas Calientes, Peru: January 9-10 Ollantaytambo, Peru: January 10-14 Urubamba, Peru: January 14-15 Pisac, Peru: January 15-16 Cusco, Peru: January 16-17 Puno, Peru: January 17-19 Amantani and Taquile Islas on Lake Titicaca: January 19-20 Puno, Peru: January 20-23 Copacabana, Bolivia: January 23-25 Isla Del Sol, Bolivia: January 25-26 Puno, Peru: January 26-30 Medellín, Colombia: January 30 I last wrote over a month ago when I was still on Roatan. My friend, Jill and I traveled by ferry to La Ceiba on the Honduras mainland to spend a few nights on the Rio Cangrejal. A friend of a friend, Pepe owns a beautiful lodge on the river and welcomed us as his guests (muchas gracias, Ian for connecting me with Pepe!). Jill and I enjoyed relaxing at the house overlooking the mountains and waterfall, cooking our meals, and some adventure activities. One day, we had a guide who took us hiking through the mountains and jungle that is a national park right in the backyard, to a huge waterfall. A storm started up and it poured on us on the hike back; still very fun! The next day, we went river rafting with two guides, one on our raft yelling commands in Spanish and the other in a kayak to rescue us should we fall in. It was pretty thrilling to raft the tumultuous river after such big storms. Jill and I treated ourselves to massages on our final night there, and took the bus further in the mainland to San Pedro Sula, where she would continue her travels to Guatemala and I caught a flight to Florida. I met my dad, stepmom and sister in Florida to spend Christmas and New Year's with our family who lives there. We all had a nice visit; I was especially missing my dad and Brittany after not having seen them for months, so it was really lovely to be together over the holidays. I don't often get to see my uncle, aunt and little cousins who live in Florida, so I enjoyed catching up and spending time with them. We were all together on Christmas to open gifts by the tree, relaxed into true vacation mode by the pool at our resort, rode duck boats on a lake one afternoon, and spent a day at Walt Disney World. Great family time. I planned to go to Peru from Florida, and I was determined to get there... My standby flight out of Orlando was not cooperating and I made a command decision to get myself to Miami that day, in a matter of hours, to fly to Lima as planned. I booked a car rental as I sat at the gate in Orlando, ran through the airport and jumped in the car, drove as quickly as possible to Miami without any potty or meal breaks, and ran through the Miami airport with no time to spare as I claimed my seat on the flight out. I would not have been able to even check in for the Miami flight if I still had to check my bag; thankfully, my bag was already checked through to Lima from Orlando, although it did not arrive in Lima and I was without my luggage for a couple days... but, I was just happy to make it to Lima and thoroughly enjoyed my introduction to Peru! I explored Lima on my own for a couple days before I planned to meet my friend from San Francisco and Burning Man, Victor, to fly together to Cusco. I stayed in the lovely Barranco district, which is more quaint and less touristy than other parts of the large city. I joined a free walking tour of the historic center during my first morning there, enjoyed my first taste of authentic ceviche and a pisco sour (or two), then sat on the massive cliffs to watch sunset over the Pacific Ocean. The next morning, I collected my lost luggage at the Lima airport and met Victor for our flight to Cusco. Flying in to Cusco was a memorable experience, as it is nestled in a dramatic valley and at such a high altitude. Our first meal in Cusco was at Inkazuela, which I highly recommend for their delicious stews. We stayed at an adorable hostal called Pisko & Soul in the artsy San Blas district for four nights. On our second evening in Cusco, we went to a dance and music show at the cultural center. The following day, we rented bicycles from our hostal to ride to the Saksaywaman Incan ruins, which turned out to be a mistake, albeit good exercise, because it was straight up cobblestone streets and a massive hill. Saksaywaman is very impressive and was an ideal introduction to the numerous Incan and pre-Incan ruins that I would see over the next few weeks. I was struck by the meaning of the name of the ruins, which means "satisfied falcon;" this could refer to the scavenger birds that feasted after the Incan defeat by Spanish conquistadors at this very site. This next bit of my time in Cusco I hesitated to divulge, but I am not ashamed and want to share my profound experience. After doing personal research and seeking out a trustworthy organization called CAISAE, I decided to participate in an ayahuasca ceremony. Part of making this decision was to determine if I felt mentally and spiritually ready for what I knew would be an intense journey and not something to take lightly. I was curious about what this medicine (I'll admit, I formally thought of it as a drug, before I learned better) could do for me. The medicine ayahuasca is a combination of two plants that grow in the jungle: one is the ayahuasca vine itself that has the DMT or "spirit molecule," which the brain naturally contains and is released during birth, death, near-death experiences and while dreaming; the second plant contained in the medicine, chacruna, stops the enzyme in the stomach from breaking down the DMT before it is able to reach the brain. Ayahuasca has been used in ceremony for centuries by South American indigenous societies. In preparation for the ayahuasca ceremony, I altered my diet and cleansed with volcanic water. I was already feeling more balanced going into the ceremony, after releasing toxins and the garbage build up in my body, and meditating on my intentions for taking ayahuasca. The private ceremony was in a compound in Lamay, which is a small village outside Cusco in the Sacred Valley. My shaman, someone who is of a lineage of ayahuasca masters and healers, and brought up to practice this medicine, had worked with ayahuasca for thirty years! He and his assistant who speaks English are both wonderful. The whole experience was six to seven hours long. The shaman and assistant verbally prepared me for what I might experience, I drank the ayahuasca that was prepared especially for me, and kept my eyes closed as I awaited its effects. My trance was rather indescribable and consisted of beautiful visions, some otherworldly environment and beings. I was being led by a being who I believed to be Pachamama, the goddess of the earth. She (and I later realize that this could also be my own powerful brain) showed me love and understanding of what my own spirituality means. In more recent years, I have felt that I am spiritual, but didn't really understand what that means until I was given the gift of seeing this other dimension, spirits and energy, both good and bad. Yes, I encountered terrifying visions in the form of my own demons and, yes, I was physically ill more than once, which was cleansing in itself, both of which are expected when taking ayahuasca. After I was ill, I felt the medicine working on my body, as I was told to expect. At one point, I felt that I was laying on an operating table and Pachamama or Grandmother Ayahuasca was working over me, healing my body, mind and spirit, potentially destructive things that I didn't even realize that I had in me. I lay silent for most of the trance, other than occasionally involuntarily verbally joining my shaman's chanting. I was physically very cold and huddled in a fetus position under heavy blankets. I felt immense protection from my shaman during my experience; he was there to guide me and defend me from the challenging encounters and feelings that ayahuasca conjures up, and the shaman is said to be experiencing or observing the same as me during my trance. I followed a strict diet of no red meat, caffeine, and alcohol for seven days after the ceremony, which is the first time that I have consciously limited what I consume and I feel more healthy for it. Since taking ayahuasca, I have felt more relaxed and at ease, and compassionate for myself and others. I am still contemplating what concrete changes I am empowered to make, but am feeling content in my spiritual growth, as a start. In debrief with my shaman and assistant following the ceremony, I was told that I should focus on loving myself so that I can better love others, as well as making time for meditation; I think that in this meditation, I will be better able to determine my personal takeaways and next steps. As a mailing list out of Peru called Soul Herbs puts it, "ayahuasca will bring forth what is hiding dormant. Make the conscious changes to better yourself. In the end, you will better the world." Namaste. From Cusco, Victor and I took the train from the Sacred Valley to Aguas Calientes where we spent the night before visiting Machu Picchu the following day. This was an experience unlike any other, even the winding bus ride up to the entry gate. This wonder of the world easily took my breath away, especially because the trek up the Wayna Picchu mountain literally did just that. Wayna Picchu towers behind Machu Picchu, has its own ruins, and offers incredible views, after hiking straight up its mountainside, sometimes on all fours and grasping to the safety cables. After we had our fill of eye candy and took our own postcard-ready photos, we hiked back down and explored the impressive Machu Picchu ruins, stopping to say hello to the occasional wild llama that lives and grazes in the grass plaza. After this exhausting day, we went for massages before our train ride back to Ollantaytambo in the Sacred Valley. Victor left Peru the next morning to return home to California and back to work. I am glad for this special time that we spent together and appreciate sharing the start of my first experience in Peru with a good friend who happens to be part Peruvian; I am grateful that he invited me to join him for part of his travels and I was able to work it into my own plans. I stayed in Ollantaytambo for three more nights and caught up on my rest, which was fitting since Ollantaytambo means "resting place." It is the longest continuously inhabited town since Incan times. I stayed at Casa de Wow, where I slept in a lovely, artistic bunk bed made of tree trunk. I explored the Ollantaytambo terraces and ruins, the much more quaint and less well known Quellorakay ruins, an Incan bridge, and went with a couple Swiss travelers to see the Pumamarka ruins outside of town, after which we hiked back to Ollantaytambo past dramatic mountain and valley views. It was with these same travelers from the hostel that I left Ollantaytambo to slowly make my way through the Sacred Valley and back to Cusco. We spent an afternoon making scenic pit stops at the immense circular Moray terraces, which were an Incan agricultural experiment at planting various crops at different altitudes; we also saw the Salineras de Maras salt pans, which were built in Incan times and still in use today. They dropped me off at the town of Urubamba where I spent a restful night at a beautiful property filled with gardens that was recently converted into a very affordable hostel. The next morning I made my way to Pisac, the heart of and my last stop in the Sacred Valley. I was there for the big Sunday market in the main square and did quite a bit of shopping before venturing up to the ruins above town, which were some of the most beautiful that I've seen. I hiked back down into town from the ruins and enjoyed a meal of lomo saltado and pisco drinks that evening, my first red meat and alcohol in over a week. I returned to Cusco the following morning, spent the afternoon perusing a couple of interesting art and history museums, and booked my bus ticket to Puno, Lake Titicaca for the morning. After a six hour bus ride, I had my first glimpse of Lake Titicaca, which is sapphire blue and vast enough that it appears to be the ocean, especially on cloudy days when you cannot see the Bolivian shore on the other side. Puno is the folkloric capital of Peru and known for its festivals and cultural celebrations. I stayed for a couple nights at a hostel in town and went to a dinner show that featured cultural costumes, dance and live music. My visit to the Coca and Costumes Museum helped me to understand the meaning behind these various traditional costumes and dances, as well as the history of coca use. I went on a day trip via ferry to visit the floating islands of Uros, who are an ethnic group of fishermen; they originally built their boats and islands with totora reeds as a defensive move from the Incans and other tribes who were a threat on the mainland. The following morning, I took another ferry for four hours to the island of Amantani, where I planned to spend the night with a local family homestay. I was thrilled when I boarded the ferry and was reading through the pamphlet that the boat captain handed to me to learn that I was headed to Amantani on the very day of an annual festival: "the most important festivity called Qhapaq Pachamama Raymi [or 'Festival of the Sacred Land,' which] is about agriculture." Each district, or perhaps it was family groups, don colorful traditional attire and march up to the Pachamama and Pachatata temples on the two hills at the top of the island. They all play live music with flutes and drums, picnic on the grass, and gather in a huge circle for the formal ceremony to pay homage to and honor the bounty of the earth. It was a beautiful day to see this island, a tough hike up the steep hills, and I enjoyed traveling with the Argentinians, Belgians and other Americans who shared the ferry boat and homestay. On the ferry back to Puno the next day, we stopped at the island of Taquile and hiked to the town center where we perused the handicrafts market of the local men who knit, according to tradition, followed by a delicious lunch of trout before our ferry back to Puno. While in Puno, I visited the Casa del Corregidor on the main plaza, which is a 17th-century house that now has a cafe and bar. I asked the bartender about a sign for horseback riding on a nearby farm because I had been wanting to horseback ride in the Sacred Valley and had heard some about the special Peruvian paso horses. I ended up meeting the two twin brothers who own the cafe and farm, then scheduled horseback riding and an overnight on the farm. I ended up staying three nights at the lovely Fundo Chincheros, which is just outside of Puno. It is a large, very comfortable and relaxing house in the countryside of grassy rolling hills. There are llamas and alpacas, cows, and horses that live on the farm. I went on a couple afternoon horseback rides and found that it is really pleasant to ride the Peruvian paso horses, who are lively and have a nice trot as their normal speed. Other guests from Lima and Puno were there for a night and invited me to join for their decadent barbecue; we ended the night around a campfire that I built. My time in Peru luckily coincided with a couple festivals, around which I had not planned and was gladly surprised. The festival on Amantani was the best so far, with the festival of La Virgen de la Candelaria for Puno's patron saint coming up on January 29th and, in the meantime, I decided to go to Copacabana on Lake Titicaca in Bolivia to see their Alasitas festival on January 24th. I took a "combi" south from Puno along the lake; combis are essentially minivans that are packed full of people traveling in the same direction with informal stops along the way when someone hollers at the driver. There were 20 people crammed into one of the combis that I took! I was dropped off at the Peru-Bolivia border, walked across and caught a taxi on the other side to Copacabana. I enjoyed my couple nights in the relaxed, hippy town of Copacabana. I climbed the hill above town, Cerro Calvario, and was awarded with a beautiful, but windy and freezing, view of the lake. The Alasitas festival the following day was a bit strange to me; it honors Ekeko, the Aymara god of abundance, and features gift giving of miniature items that one wants to become real in the next year. I saw families waiting in their cars adorned with flowers and decorations in a long line to the front of the cathedral, where they pay a Catholic priest to bless the miniatures. They then spray their cars with champagne. I wasn't very taken with this festival, but am glad that I saw some of it. I took a two hour ferry ride the next morning to Isla del Sol, which is a well known destination for its scenery and because it is said to be the birthplace of the sun and the first Incas. I disembarked the ferry on the north side of the island to see the beautiful Chincana Incan ruins that are perched above a tiny, white sand beach. Then, I hiked for two hours across the island to the southern tip, where I had a hostel booked for the night. It was very cold, windy and rainy on the island, so I decided not to extend my stay for another night. I thoroughly enjoyed a dinner that evening and lunch the following day at a restaurant called Las Velas, which is tucked into a forest of eucalyptus trees and run by a husband and wife team of gourmet chefs. After the ferry ride back to Copacabana, taxi, to then walk across the border back into Peru, and long combi ride, I am now back in Puno for a few nights. My month in Peru has been more of an experience than I could have expected. Peruvians are friendly and wise people, the specialty food and drinks here have been a treat, and my personal cleansing and spiritual growth is invaluable. I have enjoyed reading "The White Rock," which is about an explorer's experience in Cusco, The Sacred Valley, Bolivia, and Ecuador. It has been neat that what I am reading has often mirrored where I currently am and what I am experiencing, let alone learning more about the history of the Incans and Spanish conquest. I will fly to Medellín, Colombia on the 30th to meet my mom, and couldn't be more excited! I plan to spend the month of February in Colombia, possibly ending with the big Carnaval festival in Barranquilla on the north coast. Adios!

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drtanstravels · 6 years

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*Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses. I’ve tried, but I just can’t seem to fix it.

Chinese New Year is over for another year and this is a time that Anna and her friends, Pat and Roshini, like to get away for a little bit. If it is a trip to a resort island in Indonesia or Thailand for example, I will usually give it a miss and let them have a girls’ weekend away. However, if it is a unique once-in-a-lifetime location or event, such as our trip at around the same time last year to Denmark and Sweden in order to eat at Magnus Nilsson’s restaurant, Fäviken, then I’m just going to have to tag along.

Obviously, this most recent trip fits into the latter category, otherwise you would just be sitting there, staring at a blank webpage with a few ads on it. On this particular occasion we would be traveling to Ecuador for a trip that would take place in three parts:

A four-night train trip from Quito, high up in the Andes, down to the city of Durán in the Guayaquil area, located on the coast.

Doing a three-night cruise through the Galápagos Islands.

Spend three nights in Amsterdam, Netherlands en route back to Singapore.

Quite often I get a song stuck in my head when we are traveling so it seemed pretty apt that we were going to be spending the following two weeks in South America and I had randomly heard this song somewhere, installed the earworm and just couldn’t stop singing it for the entirety of our trip (there is an English version, but the Spanish one is more worth it just for the video alone):

That suit is giving ol’ Georgie a rather severe testicle separation in that clip! If you’re like us and don’t speak Spanish, here is the chorus in English:

Una paloma blanca I’m just a bird in the sky Una paloma blanca Over the mountain I fly No one can take my freedom away

“No one can take my freedom away,” yet ironically, that singer would probably have a reasonably difficult time legally staying in the United States at the moment. Anyway, this post is focussing on the first part of our holiday, the train journey, so a little bit of information about that particular leg of the trip from the e-mail we received from Tren Ecuador about our little rail adventure, the “Train of Wonders:”

Our journey begins in the northern Andes of Ecuador, in the valley of Otavalo, as we wind our way through traditional villages to meet craftspeople and enjoy a visit to a rose plantation. Venturing south from Quito, we travel through the famous “Avenue of the Volcanoes,” passing such giants as Cotopaxi and Chimborazo – the closest point on the planet to the sun. After a visit to the truly authentic Andean market of Guamote, we make our way to warmer climes, zig-zagging down the mythical “Devil’s Nose”. After descending the colossal Andes we enter a tropical forest world, then ride through plantations of sugar-cane, rice and cacao, to end our trip in the peaceful plains of the coastal region.

That’s quite a trek and if you’re looking at that map and wondering ‘MSNM’ refers to, it means metres above sea-level. We were all clearly most excited about the Galápagos Islands leg of our holiday (well, maybe except for Pat, but I’ll get to that in the sequel to this post), but this train ride was going to be some fun too. Besides, the night we were to first land in Quito was our seventh wedding anniversary.

Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves though, getting there is always part of the story and this occasion would be no exception.

Monday, February 12, 2018 Roshini and Pat had traveled to Quito several days before us, however, we were unable to leave until just a few minutes before midnight on Sunday because Anna was returning from a conference in Hong Kong on Sunday morning. Yup, she had already sat in a plane for four hours that day before this trip had even kicked off. Our route was supposed to be a thirteen-hour Business Class flight to Amsterdam, Netherlands, a three-hour layover in the airport, and then another 13-hour Economy flight to Quito, Ecuador. Quito is 13 hours behind Singapore so we were due to land in Ecuador at around 4:00pm local time, giving us plenty of time to get a nice anniversary dinner before catching a quiet night in preparation for the early start we had coming up the following morning. Of course, it doesn’t always work that smoothly. There were no hassles with the Singapore to Amsterdam flight, I managed to sleep for a substantial portion of it and then watched most of season nine of Curb your Enthusiasm when I woke. There weren’t any particular holdups in the Amsterdam airport either, besides not being allowed in the airport lounge due to overcrowding, despite having the appropriate pass. When it was finally time, we made our way down to the gate to board our KLM flight bound for Quito, a process which also went smoothly, but that’s where any semblance of order ended. Once we were aboard we were stuck on the tarmac as, due to the temperature in Amsterdam at the time, our plane required de-icing. Eventually, we were told that the process would be available to us in 30 minutes, an announcement after which I promptly fell asleep, only to wake again, still ground-bound with light snow sprinkling down. After being stuck on the tarmac for two hours, we finally departed. Once in the air it became almost impossible to conceive that KLM is the national airline of the Netherlands for several reasons. First of all, the flight attendants were far too large for their job. I’d previously heard rumours of how Singapore Airlines stewardesses receive only one tailored uniform and are forbidden to gain weight, a theory that is somewhat confirmed by some of the statements I’ve hand-picked from this article published in Singapore’s national newspaper, The Straits Times, and although it seems a little extreme, it is feasible to understand why:

National carrier Singapore Airlines expects its flight attendants to have a body mass index (BMI) within a certain range, and those who exceed it will be given time on the ground to get back in shape, it said.

The airline, which focuses on BMI rather than weight, said such crew members will be “given time on (the) ground to focus on their health and to receive guidance on healthy weight management”. This ensures they are able to meet the physical demands of their duties, it added.

Observers felt it was acceptable for airlines to have requirements for flight attendants to have a certain physique, in order to be able to carry out their duties.

Mr David Leong, managing director of PeopleWorldwide Consulting, said: “The aisle of the plane is constrained, and any large-bodied person will have a manoeuvrability issue along the aisle.”

That final quote from David Leong is a salient one. While some may consider suspending an employee for being overweight a tad discriminatory, it is worth noting that your ability to fit inside your workplace is one of the most important tasks you have, which I guess is why I never became a fighter pilot. Well, my size, plus the fact that I’m also kind of a pacifist who has no idea how to fly. For KLM flight attendants on the other hand, being able to walk down the aisle of the plane wasn’t a huge priority. While it’s generally accepted that the Dutch are the world’s tallest nationality, a flight attendant’s body mass index doesn’t really cut it in this case as, despite being in a healthy weight-range, they are still physically too large to do their job. On our flight to Quito there were two female flight attendants who would bump me with their thighs every time they walked past my seat without a care to give, which was approximately every 15 minutes, making it impossible to sleep. Then there was the male flight attendant whose hips were so wide that he had to to turn sideways to walk down the aisle, resulting in me getting a face-full of Dutch man-ass every time he passed. Admittedly, the crew were really nice, but their constant bumps, nudges and sideswipes got a bit much extremely quickly and remember, this was to be our second 13-hour flight of the day. Add to this the terrible food – meatballs that make the ones available at Ikea seem like the epitome of fine dining, followed by a stale microwaved pizza roll, of which Anna’s was dropped on the floor while being served to her – as well as the terrible, yet random, entertainment choices and the increasingly awful smell coming from the toilets and I was begging to get off this plane when we weren’t even half-way through.

We eventually landed at Mariscal Sucre International Airport after a grand total of 31 hours in transit, took a ride with a psychotic cab driver with a death wish for 45 minutes to the Swissotel in the Floresta area of Quito, checked in and then went for our Anniversary dinner at about 8:30pm. We found a place around the corner called Lo Nuestro for some traditional local cuisine, feasting on prawns, beef tripe stew, and black clam ceviche among other dishes, but it couldn’t be a big night though because of our early start the next morning. Besides, thanks to timezones, it had already been our anniversary for about a day-and-a-half. A few scenes from the first full day of what would become an epic trip:

A woman munching down on a chili in Amsterdam Airport Schiphol

Where we would have our anniversary dinner

Eating some great local dishes

Yup, time for bed.

Tuesday, February 13, 2018 Tuesday was to be the beginning of out trek through the Andes, but despite taking all of the necessary precautions, I still had a mild seizure in my sleep so the day is a bit of a blur. The plan was to meet our guides for the next four days, Marcelo and Alex, as well as our sidekicks on this tour in the foyer of the hotel at 7:00am and spend most of the morning on a bus, then onto a train with a few stops along the way. Getting up wasn’t particularly difficult due to jet-lag so we went and had breakfast in the hotel restaurant before meeting up with our companions on this first four-day leg of our fortnight away. Once we saw who we were traveling with, one thing became immediately clear; we would be the only people on this trip under the age of 60! This train journey has been referred to as the world’s “most challenging” railroad and our counterparts on this trip were mostly train enthusiasts and their wives, hailing mainly from Canada and the UK, as well as a couple from San Antonio, Texas. Anna, Pat, Roshini, and myself, however, were here because it just seemed like a cool thing to do and a great opportunity to cut ourselves off from the rest of the world for a bit and relax.

The first part of our bus ride was a two-hour trip north that took us to the valley of Otavalo in the Imbabura Province, the main attraction being the market that sells products made by the local people:

The indigenous Otavalo people are famous for weaving textiles, usually made of wool, which are sold at the famous Saturday market. Although the largest market is on Saturday, there is a very wide range of wares available throughout the week in the Plaza de los Ponchos, and the many local shops. The shops sell textiles such as handmade blankets, tablecloths, and much more.

During the market’s peak, almost one third of the town becomes full of stalls selling textiles, tagua nut jewelry, musical instruments, dream catchers, leather goods, fake shrunken heads, indigenous costumes, hand-painted platters and trays, purses, clothing, spices, raw foods and spools of wool. As the city has become more of a tourist attraction, many of the goods sold in the markets are mass-produced in nearby factories and sold in the market by middle-men.

We spent a substantial amount of time walking around the market and Anna is the master negotiator so she haggled her way to some bargains for us. Obviously, the market wasn’t quite as bustling on a Tuesday as to what you’d expect it to be on a Saturday, but there was still plenty of great stuff available, including the two pipes I ended up purchasing, as well as the scarf that Anna bought. I had also forgotten how small a lot of South Americans are; I’ve lived in Asia for over a decade now and, although a major stereotype about Asians is that they are short, the average native South American is tiny, as you will see, so several locals felt the urge to come and have photos taken with me in the market. Anyway, a bit of what we saw:

Looking out of one window of our hotel room…

…and the other

Anna, Pat, and Roshini hunting for bargains

A nearby mountain behind a random bus (not ours)

I bought two of the pipes on the right

Anna in front of a stall

A wine bottle inside a hoof

Before long it was time to continue our journey, this time to the San Roque Train station where we were greeted by a traditional Ecuadorian band. We boarded our train and were given lunch as we made our way down to the small town of Atuntaqui, a place I just found out is the sister city of Sunchon in North Korea! The entire area is renowned for its textiles, especially the textile market, so we all stopped off at the Museo Fabrica Imbabura [translated from Spanish]:

MUSEUM “IMBABURA TEXTILE FACTORY”: The English and German machinery that dates back to the last century (1900-1925) distributed throughout the different sections: fulling, carding, spinning, weaving, dyeing, among others, that in visit to them is impossible not to imagine going back to that time and feel a deep admiration for our ancestors, because only to understand how to raise that machinery from the port, 400 km away between coast and mountain range, under the transport conditions of that time, it must have been a epic.

We were taken on a tour of what was once the factory floor, the now-retired blue-collar Canadian men feeling the need to knock and bang on every surface to make sure it met their high structural standards. Sure, what we were told about everyday life working in the factory and looking at all of the vintage looms and machinery was interesting enough, but I wish they had’ve focussed more on these types of facts [translated from Spanish]:

The Imbabura Textile Factory operated from 1924 to 1965, the year in which it was closed after the death of one of its administrators, who was attacked by a mob of workers who claimed for their rights after they were subjected to work under a system of exploitation. There were forged several trade unionists who defended the highest rights of the working class.

That’s right, the new owner of the factory was dragged out into the street and stomped to death by the workers! We were told this by Marcelo when he was giving us the history of the factory, however, this stop off would’ve been a lot more interesting if these type of details were the focal point, as opposed to just a tidbit of information, but our Ecuadorian tour was only getting started. It was also strange, some might say perhaps even a little ironic, that inside the museum there was a picture of Fidel Castro mounted next to a photograph of John F. Kennedy. Take a look for yourself:

Me posing in front of the band at the train station

The band doing their thing

A statue out the front of the museum

A guy on an old loom doing his thing

The end result is really nice!

The toilets they used in the factory back in the day. Probably one of the many reason’s the employees revolted.

Why was this hanging next to…

this?

Soon we were back on the train and on to probably the highlight of the train tour for me. We ended up in the village of San Antonio de Ibarra, just south of the city of Ibarra. Ecuador lays on the edge of a tectonic plate, making it prone to earthquakes and volcanoes, a theme you will notice throughout our tour. A large earthquake destroyed most of Ibarra on August 16, 1868 and the city was re-settled in 1872 meaning that the public buildings and churches needed to be rebuilt. It was most likely for this reason that a lot of the religious iconography in Ecuador is hand-carved out of wood, as opposed to stone or marble, but it is almost impossible to tell the difference. In fact, the work is so good that the Pope even owns a piece:

San Antonio is famous for its wood artisans. For this is called also the Capital of wood artisans. Pope Francis, during his July 2015 visit to Ecuador, received a wood sculpture made by Jorge Villalba, born in San Antonio, as a gift.

There are dozens of these workshops throughout the town, but unfortunately, the website for the specific workshop and showroom we visited isn’t working at the moment so it is difficult to get any exact details. We were taken on a tour of the workshop that showed the many stages of making these masterpieces out of cedar. It all begins exactly as you’d expect, with a person roughly hacking away at a block with a hammer and chisel, then smoothed out with a rasp, then a file, and finally sandpaper. The arms and hands of each piece are carved separately due to the difficulty and detail involved in creating the hands, as anyone who has even tried to draw an anatomically correct hand would be aware, and attached later. The pieces are then painted and gold leaf is added before the final step in the larger pieces, the creation of the eyes. The eyes are made from the white glass of old fluorescent light tubes, moulded into shape and the pupils painted on the reverse side. The finished product is simply stunning:

Entering the workshop

For how time-consuming this must be, they churn out a lot of them

Doing work

Work in progress

An arm

A few hands

a few more pieces on the go

Almost done

Don’t worry, you’ll read about this one soon

Shroud of Turin

A finished product, san hands

The crucifixion

Several other finished pieces

We were handed a finished piece, this time a bust, to pass around and these look so much like statues carved from stone that one woman in our tour remarked, “they’re light, aren’t they?”, completely forgetting she was holding a chunk of painted wood. One of the more redneck Canadians in our group wrongly thought it would be amusing to ask if the three hooded characters (pictured, above) were of the Ku Klux Klan, a question which was met with an uncomfortable silence, then a “no,” followed by which religious figures they actually were. There’s one in every group.

After the wood-carving workshop we had a look around a train station before jumping back on the bus again and were taken to a hacienda in Cayambe that is one of the largest cultivators and exporters of roses. ‘Hacienda’ is a term you’ll be seeing a lot in this post so I guess it is best to clarify the definition first:

hacienda (n.) [hah-see-en-duh; Spanish ah-syen-dah]

A large landed estate, especially one used for farming or ranching.

The main house on such an estate.

A stock raising, mining, or manufacturing establishment in the country.

The hacienda on this particular occasion was the Hacienda la Compania, the house of which was a giant mansion from the early 19th century. We were fed some great local food and taken on a tour of the facilities, mainly a giant greenhouse where the roses are grown, but, being the day before Valentine’s Day, they were extremely busy and we couldn’t help but feel like we were in the way. Still, a quick glimpse:

Outside a church near the hacienda

Some roses inside the hacienda

And more

Anna with some roses

Roshini and Anna chowing down

Still more roses

The told us they purposely dye these ugly roses for the Chinese market

The roses never end!

At least they name them after decent bands

It had been a pretty packed day so we boarded the bus again and headed back to Quito. There were two options for accommodation on this tour, Standard or Gold class, and the four of us, as well as Jim and Charlotte, the couple from San Antonio, Texas forked out a little extra for Gold class throughout the tour. That meant on this occasion we would be spending the night at the Plaza Grande Hotel, which is described on the Tren Ecuador website as:

In the heart of Quito UNESCO World Heritage old quarter and with five centuries of history, Hotel Plaza Grande stands on the corner from the Presidential palace and is built on the lot that was originally granted to Francisco Pizarro, Governor of Peru. The original building, the first colonial house built in the newly founded city of Quito, suffered multiple renovations during its long history, being home to different wealthy families.

In the early XXth century it housed the first luxury hotel in the city. After a careful restoration it re opened its doors in 2007 offering 15 luxury suites with breathtaking views of the city’s historical quarter, a renowned restaurant, a spectacular terrace and a well-stocked cellar.

The Hotel Grande Plaza definitely didn’t disappoint and due to a combination of jet-lag and such a busy day, that extra comfort was definitely a welcome relief. We were in bed quite early, it was just a shame that we’d only be spending one night here:

Arriving back in Quito

Looking one way down the street out the front of the hotel…

…and the other

Just part of our room

Someone seems pleased

Part of the view from our balcony

looking the other way

Wednesday, February 14, 2018 It was another 7:00am start, however, getting up on time wasn’t an issue due to the joy that is jet-lag. Falling asleep the previous night wasn’t difficult for either of us, we were both exhausted, it was remaining asleep that was the problem. Anyway, we got up, had breakfast, took the bus to Quito’s Chimbacalle station, looking around the area a bit before boarding the train. We were welcomed aboard with a glass of champagne each and were briefed on what was going to happen over the course of the day, but the champagne wasn’t a particularly good option for all of us. Pat had decided not to drink so Anna had hers as well, a move she would later regret. Anna and myself had been in the Andes before when we did a trek through the mountains and then visited Machu Pichu in Peru in 2016 and Anna suffered quite badly from altitude sickness on that trip, something that didn’t really affect me for some reason. On that occasion we reached altitudes of almost 4,500 metres (14,700 feet) above sea level and although Quito isn’t quite that high, at an elevation of 2,850 metres (9,350 feet) above sea level it is still up there and is the second-highest capital city in the world, falling behind only La Paz in Bolivia. To put that in perspective, Denver, Colorado is known as “The Mile High City” and sporting teams playing there claim that the elevation impacts their performance, particularly resulting in breathing difficulties and lightheadedness. Denver is only 1,609 metres (5,280 feet) above sea level, or 56% of the altitude at which we were. After about an hour on the train, Anna began to feel sick, Pat is borderline narcoleptic, and Roshini was still jet-lagged too so the three of them all just nodded off as we made our way through the Avenue of Volcanoes until it was time for our next stop. A few of the sights from that morning:

A church near the train station

A statue nearby

Anna, myself, Pat, and Roshini in the kids’ carriage

Leaving Quito

…past a cornfield…

Making our way through the mountains…

…and into a valley

Coca tea made her feel better

Our train was equipped with a fully stocked bar, but I doubt we would be making much use of that until we were out of the mountains. Instead, especially for Anna, it would be coca tea, which is supposed to help relieve the symptoms of altitude sickness. Getting out and walking helps a little too so she’d be fine soon. Our next stop was an Andean hacienda and this one would be interesting for one particular reason — Pat never really grew up with pets so she has a bit of a phobia of animals. Essentially all animals, and this extremely rural hacienda was a giant farm so things could get quite entertaining very quickly. The hacienda was mainly used for raising llamas, but was also the home for Chagras, or Ecuadorian cowboys. These guys were pretty skilled and because it was Valentine’s Day, the first display they put on for us was to ride up and attempt to put a stick through rings which were suspended from a horizontal rope hanging overhead and then give them to the women in the group:

Roshini was one of the lucky ladies to be gifted a ring, but unfortunately she was also required to return it, a policy any recipient of those horrendous multi-cloured roses probably wishes was in place. Next up was several of the chagras roping a calf, something that must be a lot more difficult than it looks!:

We watched some other activities such as bullfighting and were then taken on a tour of the hacienda and this was definitely no new property. The walls were all made of a combination of compressed mud and straw, yet they were actually quite structurally sound, even the now-retired blue-collar Canadians agreed, and had stood the test of time, still standing perfectly today. Anna and Roshini decided to hang out with the llamas for a bit and, although she had handled the presence of animals well, Pat declined the offer to join them:

Chagras upon arrival

Let the show begin

Just thinking about llama stuff

I have wracked my brain and cannot imagine what he could be singing about besides llamas

A ring for Rosh

A few rope tricks

A group of llama farmers

Bullfighting

The hacienda from the outside

Roshini, Anna, and some llamas. No Pat, though.

Llama-skin chaps on the banister

I’m glad I don’t have to shower here

The foundation of the building

Soon we were back on the train and moving again, which meant we were sleeping again, myself included this time, prompting one of the Canadians to ask if we had had a big one the night before, but it didn’t last long. We had to stop briefly in a town while a mechanical problem on the train was fixed, possibly the shredder that mulched anything that went into the toilet once it was flushed, and had seen some people spraying each other with white foam and water in the street. Why? Because it was the end of Carnival in Ecuador and we were also given a taste of it once we were back aboard the train. But what is Carnival?

Carnival is a Catholic holiday that has blended with Andean traditions to become a huge festival. The idea is to express as much craziness as possible before the reflective period of Lent, called Cuaresma in Ecuador. Most Andean communities celebrate Carnival in a small way, with neighborhood parties and lots of troublemaking.Most of the rabble-rousing is good fun and harmless. Be prepared for lots of espuma orcarioca, party foam that will fly at the least expected moments. A more affordable option is water and many people will arm themselves with water guns or toss buckets full of water from rooftops, open windows, and doorways at passersby. The worst is the colored flour. Brightly tinted bread flour is tossed into hair and onto clothing. If you are already wet with party foam or water, the flour becomes immediate sludge, almost impossible to remove.

Drinking is just a part of Carnival. In fact, many parade participants will start drinking before the parade even begins. During the parade, it is not uncommon to find chicha de jora, a fermented drink made from corn, shared along the route. One of the more famous towns to celebrate Carnaval is Guaranda, home to the infamous white liquor called Pajaro Azul, or Blue Bird. It should come as no surprise that this town is also known for the wildest celebrations.

We were also told it was a time when labourers would get drunk, dance, don masks and anonymously prank their bosses, which is what some of the employees aboard the train did. The music started, people in devil masks handed out shots of blue bird (which the girls obviously refused), and then the partying began. I had one of the women with a toy devil try to dance with me, but when she put her arm around me, one of the horns poked me where the sun doesn’t shine. Not particularly pleasant, but I don’t enjoy dancing in general, anyway:

Coming down the aisle

Your assumptions are correct, he wasn’t the partying type

The masks are pretty cool

The doll that Roshini is holding possesses the horn that poked me

Awkward

While we were on our way, our other guide, Alex, kept talking about a section of our track that was called ‘The Devil’s Ear,’ referring to it in near mythical, hushed tones, however, it really just turned out to be simply a bridge. Somewhat anticlimactic, hopefully ‘The Devil’s Nose’ the following day would be a little more impressive, but we had our doubts.

We had one more stop for the day and that was to meet the Last Ice Merchant, a 73-year-old man by the name of Baltazar Ushca who still climbs mountains to chip off glacial ice and sell it at markets for US$5.00 for 60 lb (27.2 kg). He, and many of the locals, believe that the fossilised ice has extra vitamins and minerals, as well as the fact that it takes a lot longer to melt. A little background info:

When Baltazar Ushca started climbing Chimborazo volcano as a child with his father and younger brothers to learn the trade, almost no one knew the summit of the mighty volcano is the closest point to the sun from the center of the earth, and almost no one cared. They would get a very early morning start for a 4-hour climb to the skirts of glacier-covered Mount Chimborazo. After a day of pickaxe hard work, the ice- harvesters would take their six to eight packs per person load down to Riobamba markets. In those days Chimborazo ice was very sought after for food preservation, and also for the famous hand-made ice creams.

With the advent of ice factories and a refrigerator in every kitchen, the ice business became a too dangerous, underpaid job. One by one, the ice merchants left the mountain and found other jobs, until only Baltazar was left. Nowadays, he still climbs every Thursday and Friday with his faithful mules, to carve the ice from the flanks of Taita Chimborazo.

There was a short documentary made about him a few years back which has afforded him a a newfound fame, take a look:

It seems like a prime example of not realising your job is now obsolete, kind of like if you were still the manager of a Blockbuster Video franchise, however, thanks to the documentary, he makes most of his income from tourism and only climbs twice a week now. Uscha speaks a regional dialect, so he told his story to his daughter, who then translated it into Spanish for Marcelo, our guide, who in turn told us in English. We then got to meet Uscha and try some of the handmade ice-cream and I don’t mean to be rude, but I’d be lying if I said he didn’t smell strongly of donkey shit. As for the ice-cream, it didn’t contain any dairy, just churned ice and fruit and it had a bit of a dirt flavour as well, however, he you have to respect a guy who still works that hard at that age in job that is now redundant. You could tell that his daughter was getting a bit tired of this routine though:

Approaching our next stop

Some locals who came out to sing for us

Yes, he is standing on the same level floor as I am

The mountain he climbs for ice

Making the ice-cream, ironically in front of a freezer

Anna and yours truly with our ice-creams. We were offered seconds, but one was enough

Soon it was time to make the last leg of our trip for the day. That night we stayed in another hacienda and ate meat and seafood cooked on a hot stone while a traditional local band played. Good times.

Thursday, February 15, 2018

Another early start, this time about 6:30am. We took a stroll around our hacienda after breakfast and then boarded our train — this time led by a coal-powered steam engine known as the Black Monster– and got moving again. Today wasn’t going to be quite as crazy as previous days, we made our way through the heart of the Andes, passing colourful quinoa fields and enormous cemeteries on our way to making our first stop in the district of Colta, where Spanish conquerors made their first settlement in Ecuador, to switch over to a diesel locomotive. While we were stopped we had a look around another local market that had roasted guinea pigs and incredible looking roast pork available. I was tempted, but it was still early and our lunch was being provided at another market so I just settled for buying a traditional Ecuadorian woollen mask and then we had a look at the Iglesia de Balbanera [translated from Spanish]:

It is the main attraction of Colta, the first church built on Ecuadorian soil, so its beauty is historic. Built by the Spaniards, its style of construction is colonial, its stone façade is the only witness of its history, you can get a fantastic view of the snow-capped Chimborazo.

Apparently, and due to a plaque that stands out in Balbanera, it is believed that this temple is the oldest in the country. Although its date of creation is not known with certainty, it is presumed that it was inaugurated on August 15, 1534.

The Europeans chose this plain to build the first Catholic church of the Royal Audience of Quito, dedicated to the adoration of the Virgin Mary as a souvenir to the Abbey of the Virgin of Valvanera, in the province of Logroño of the Iberian Peninsula.

However, such construction was not the one that currently stands on the left side of the road to Riobamba, but a humble hut of adobe and stone covered with straw and torn down by the cruel earthquake of February 4, 1797, which destroyed much of Riobamba and other populations along the inter-Andean alley.

But that place was already considered “sacred”, so the villagers rebuilt the temple with beautiful architecture and delicate simplicity.

That’s right, the original church was destroyed by an earthquake over 200 years ago, but the locals decided to just put the pieces back together how they best fit in order to rebuild the church! Furthermore, according to our guides, this process has occurred more than once, hence the jumbled and non-linear look of the building’s architecture. As for the interior, it was fully equipped with the wooden sculptures we saw being crafted days earlier:

Just a portion of the enormous cemetary

Guine pigs roasting over an open fire

Damn, that pork looks tasty

The market from a distance

My new mask

Iglesia de Balbanera

The left side of the church’s entrance…

…and the right

Next we were on to one of the more fascinating stops on our tour, the Guamote market, described in our guide for the train tour as “one of the last truly indigenous markets in the Andes.” That description barely even cuts the mustard, but this one should give you a better idea:

The canton of Guamote is the most traditional region in Ecuador. 95% of the population is Indigenous (while in the whole of Ecuador it is only 25%). Guamote itself has about 5,000 inhabitants, but in the mountains surrounding Guamote another 40,000 people live in small communities.

The greatest asset of Guamote is the weekly indigenous market, one of the biggest and most traditional markets in South America. Every Thursday the people from the communities come to Guamote to sell their fruit, sheep, pigs, guinea pigs, cows, hats, clothing,…

Far away from all tourist traps, this is a market by and for indigenous people, one of the most authentic things you can see in Ecuador, and more than that, something you can really experience. This market is an adventure for all your senses, a chaos of smells, colors, sounds and impressions; and smiling and kind faces everywhere. This is the strength of Guamote: its people. The sincerity and friendliness of the people here is impressive. Despite of the big poverty that still exists here, people are very grateful and optimistic.

Upon arrival, we were told by our guide, Alex, that Guamote was pretty much a ghost town any other day of the week, not a whole lot of people live in the town itself, but is bustling on Thursdays when the market is on. It was almost impossible to believe when we saw just how busy the place was, but the crowd was also probably a little larger due to Carnival and the parade being held at the market, as well as the accompanying rodeo in a makeshift stadium built just out of town. As we entered we saw people walking pigs and sheep on leashes and we were given about half-an-hour to wander around through the stalls selling handicrafts, clothing, and food, as well as the parade, before it we were taken into a special building for lunch. Before we left for Ecuador, I had watched an episode of Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations based in this country and he kept saying how good the beef tripe stew was, hence why I had it the night we arrived. It was great, but that was at a restaurant though, the one at the market seemed more “authentic” and I was tempted to try it, however, I do have somewhat of a history of getting food poisoning quite easily and our meals were already provided so I decided to give it a miss. Some people working at the market tend to get a bit offended if you take photos and don’t buy anything, but I managed to get some of those that didn’t seem to mind, as well as the parade:

Just walking my sheep

That looks like a massive pig, but people here are really small

Grillin’ some chicken feet

This little piggy went to market (shit joke, I know)

I guess we’re taking the bus from here

Anna and some fruit

Me with some different fruit

The stew I was referring to

People just milling around

A rather obedient sheep

The parade getting under way

Some dancers

More dancers

This guy went a little too hard, too fast, it was barely noon when I snuck this photo. Also, I’m fairly certain the Oakland Raiders aren’t in the NBA

The makeshift rodeo stadium as seen from the bus

As we were leaving on the bus for our next destination, Alex told us a rather interesting fact as to why the indigenous people of Ecuador wear hats and can be a tad on the nose, such as the Last Ice Merchant was, as well as why they wear hats; it was because Ecuadorians who worked in the haciendas were forbidden to shower, as it meant they intended to flirt so they wore hats to prevent the spread of lice, a tradition many still practice today.

The rest of our trip for the day was to be done by bus, except for our final stop, ‘The Devil’s Nose.’ I didn’t hold out much hope for The Devil’s Nose, due mainly to how utterly shite The Devil’s Ear was, but when we found out a little more information about the Nose, I became more optimistic:

History confirms the Devil’s Nose deserves its name. Work started in 1899, with about 3,000 Jamaicans and 1,000 Puerto Ricans brought in to work on the project. The number of men that died during construction is estimated at around 2,000 making this work pretty much a deathwish.

The goal was to connect the railroad from Quito to Guayaquil and the greatest obstacle to building the railroad was a near-vertical wall of rock, known as El Nariz del Diablo (The Devil’s Nose), which connects Alausi to Sibambe (mid-way between Quito and Cuenca). The engineering solution was to carve a series of tight switchbacks out of the rock, which allowed the train to descend 500 meters by zigzagging ahead past a junction, then backing down the next section, before going forward again to get trains down the rock face.

When it says the train descends 500 metres (1,640 feet), it doesn’t mention that it does so over a distance of just 12 km (7.5 miles). Add in the fact that The Devil’s Nose is one of, if not the most difficult train journeys and ranks in the Top 10 Most Dangerous Train Routes in the World and we could be in for a fun afternoon. We arrived at Alausi train station and took a seat in the vintage boxcars and made the stressful descent deep into the Chanchan River Gorge and back up again, taking in the cloudy, yet breathtaking scenery along the way:

Arriving in Alausi

Alausi from a distance

Pretty close to the edge

The visibility is kind of low, too

Still have quite a way to go

but it is definitely beautiful here

Heading back up

Getting higher…

We went down that mountain in a 100-year-old train!

With Alex and Marcelo

The train in which we did the trek

A giant beetle we found near the station

The Devil’s Nose was supposed to be the most frightening moment of the day, however, that turned out to be the four-hour bus ride to hacienda where we would be spending the night. We had to wind our way through a very thick fog that gave very little visibility in the mountains, some heavy rain and the aftermath of both constant landslides and mini-avalanches that left the road either partially blocked or missing and forcing us to take blind turns on the wrong side of the road, but we eventually made it. Again, Anna and Pat pretty much slept through the whole thing.

Friday, February 16, 2018

It was the final day of our tour, warranting us a well-deserved sleep-in. The hacienda we were staying at on this occasion was a cocoa bean plantation so we learnt about the harvesting of the beans, as well as the chocolate making process and got to try some pretty decent chocolate, of which Anna felt a need to buy a bunch of blocks, all while peacocks walked around the grounds (right).

After lunch we were back on the train and made our final stop before we travel over to the Galápagos Islands, our hotel in the coastal city of Guayaquil. The ride there was spent hanging out and partying with our guides and the staff aboard the train and that night, the four of us grabbed dinner and had a few drinks, the girls chatting amongst themselves while I watched the Celebrity and Rising Stars games of the NBA All-Star Weekend, bringing and end to this leg of our tour.

I would recommend the Tren Ecuador tour to anyone who is heading to South America, especially our ‘Train of Wonders’ tour. The guides are fun and knowledgeable, and the rest of the people you encounter are really helpful and friendly too.

On a side not, one interesting occurrence is that over the course of our tour, people all through Ecuador, both adults and children, got really excited when they saw the train go through their town or by their home and felt the need to wave enthusiastically, getting even more excited when you wave back:

But enough of this epic rant about our train tour, on to stage two of our holiday, the Galápagos Islands!

We packed a hell of a lot into our four-day train tour of Ecuador so I hope you have your reading glasses handy. *Just a quick note, there was a problem when I saved this post while I was editing it, thus why some of the links might not work and the layout looks a bit odd, beginning at the part about visiting the hacienda that grows roses.

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