After a couple weeks in sleepy, southwestern Colombia – a tourist hinterland – Cali was a refreshing change. A large city of three million, Cali’s strong Afro-Colombian culture makes it one of the friendliest. I was greeted warmly by locals with a hearty Bienvenidos, de dónde viene? (“Welcome, where are you from?”).
In a country rich in rhythms, salsa reigns supreme in Cali. It blasts from buses, apartment windows, bars and restaurants, even in public plazas. And Cali’s energetic vibe is boosted by the strong coffee that flows freely in cafés on seemingly every street corner.
My stay in Cali was brief but I got a good taste of the city: its chaotic markets, the flavorful foods, the surprising large expatriate community, even the night life. With my mates from the hostal I took a salsa dancing lesson and enjoyed cold Club Colombia beers at a bar blasting cumbia tunes.
I stayed in the charismatic colonial neighborhood of San Antonio, just a few blocks south of the main city center, which is a bohemian cluster of residences, hip cafés and galleries. I enjoyed the tranquility of this urban barrio with its picturesque streets and ornate doorways and window, but I left the city wanting to see more…
My next visit to Cali will hopefully coincide with the renowned World Salsa Festival… ¡a baila’, a goza’!
Here in Colombia’s coffee heartland, I’ve been ingesting a lot of caffeine. And consequently considering things.
Today I’ve been on the road exactly five months. And I have to admit I’ve hit one of those moments. I’ll call it what it is: a travel low.
Independent travel is what I love and what I crave. But it can be hard work, occasionally I get tired and the luster fades. It’s bound to happen – endlessly overnighting in unfamiliar towns, countless buses and constantly eating out, routine conversations with strangers, forever packing, planning and figuring shit out. It all takes a toll.
I’ve never traveled this long or far in one trip. Long-term travelers I’ve met have told me that breaks are essential in enduring lengthy spells on the road. Stopping can be as important as moving. I’m ready to sit in once place for a bit.
Maybe I feel this way because this travel chapter is winding down. Knowing that I have a couple more weeks in South America hastens the process of boxing things up and turning things off. Paul and Mark and Amy arrive in two days – I am thrilled to close out this journey with loved ones but also caught in this hollow of waiting.
So these driftless past weeks have been hard for me. I feel I’m at my best when I have specific objectives, like the Kiva fellowship, working on a technology project or learning something (like Portuguese) in a structured way.
Yet simply traveling around with a backpack is, and always will be, an important goal of mine. But now after extended periods in South America and Southeast Asia – nine months of transient world travel – I’m ready for something with a different purpose: a new vocational direction, more volunteering, deeper engagement with people, some rooting in a community.
It’s not that I don’t have any plans. There’s much I want to accomplish professionally and personally. Paul and I have lots of exciting ideas and are working on them. But nothing yet is concrete. Things remain uncertain, unclear. This business of changing one’s path is a deliberate process. It takes time. And patience has never been one of my strengths.
Soon I will say goodbye once again to South America and it will not be easy. These past months have been gratifying beyond words and my love for this continent and people grows deeper with each visit. And I look forward to my journey northwards; I want to greet family and friends, taste foods that I miss, start new projects, enjoy the ease and familiarity of home turf for a while.
That’s it, my low point: a threshold. My apprehensive transition between here and there. I know things will sort themselves out in time. Today’s trough will be a peak tomorrow.
So enough of these ruminations about past and future!
Here’s where I am right now:
I sit on the colorful wooden balcony of my charming hostal overlooking the main plaza of Filandia. It’s an overcast Sunday, the town is abuzz with locals enjoying this day of rest, this Sabbath. The busy work of yesterday and tomorrow weighs on no one.
Sunday – a threshold too – is a time to pause, sit and chat, sip steaming cups of coffee to lilting ranchera music…
There was so much we loved during our weeks in Ecuador but here are the standout “Number Ones” from each of us:
Paul’s #1 Thrill
Riding the “milk truck” on a journey that seemed to climb its way to the apex of a very remote and stunning area of the Andes. We enjoyed the open air with the camaraderie of the locals who, like us, were taking the only ride out of town that day. The only thing missing was a thermos of nice hot coffee because we did have the luxury of an endless supply of fresh creamer right at our fingertips.
Peter’s #1 Natural Wonder
The captivating Quilotoa Crater Lake was a supremely blissful start of our 3-day trek through the remote Andean highlands. Every step of our walk was beautiful but the splendor of Volcán Quilotoa’s turquoise water was the most dazzling of all.
Paul’s #1 People
The group of young Ecuadorian hikers we met at the waterfall near Baños. If they are an example of the young and upcoming generation in Ecuador I have great hope for that country. I was thoroughly impressed with their enthusiasm, curiosity and manners not to mention they were just plain fun.
Peter’s #1 Animal
We encountered countless friendly critters in Ecuador, but none endeared our hearts like Felipe in at our hostal in Chugchilán. This lovely little cat spent every moment with us: purring on our laps, rambunctiously playing with peacock feathers, knocking over beer bottles, sneaking in the dining room to sniff our food, and generally being an entertaining nuisance. Oddly the owner said Felipe was in “mourning” over the recent death of his sister, but to us Felipe was always in the highest of spirits – he certainly lifted ours.
Paul’s #1 Area
Baños. I not only enjoyed the immense beauty of the stunning scenery which engulfed this town but the energy that seemed to permeate every nook and cranny was infectious. The town was filled with backpackers who seemed to be on a single quest… to challenge themselves with a myriad of activities ranging from zip lining to bungee jumping and every other hair-raising experience in between. Oh… did I mention the daily soak in the natural hot springs which was just icing on the cake in this little paradise of the Andes.
Peter’s #1 Show
Barnum & Bailey’s it wasn’t but the traveling Miami Circus’ small troupe of performers that landed in Vilcabamba far surpassed our expectations. The clowns had us laughing hard while the charmingly hokey trapeze acts kept us in our seats – unexpected feats for a pint-sized Big Top!
Paul’s #1 Hostel
The beach shack in Canoa which was akin to popping several Valiums every day. I have never known such deep relaxation in the week we had the pleasure of staying there. I’m not sure if it was the fact we were barefoot the entire week…or could it be the gentle sway of the hammocks which we seemed to live in….or maybe the mellow rhythm of the surf… how about the cool and constant ocean breeze which kept us so wonderfully comfortable? It was all just perfect.
Peter’s #1 Meal
Weary after a couple weeks of dining on heaps of rice and heavy fried plantains, we keenly ordered up two salads in Vilcabamba that were delightfully satiating. With crisp, crunchy greens from the surrounding fertile valley and delicious home-made salad dressing, it was a pleasingly healthy and hearty meal. And despite the nationwide Sunday ban on alcohol, the waiter was gracious enough to surreptitiously serve us beer in coffee mugs – ah, the recalcitrance of small towns!
Paul’s #1 Drink
My Club Rojas beer. I can’t think of a better way to spend a dollar on a warm and sunny afternoon.
Peter’s #1 Non-alcoholic Beverage
We loved the fresh-pressed sugarcane juice found everywhere in Ecuador. Street vendors cranked the tough stalks through clanking presses that squeezed out fresh yellowy guarapo. After our active days in Baños, the sweet glasses of jugo de caña never failed to replenish our energy.
Paul’s #1 Scariest Moment
Coming inches away from cracking my head on a concrete wall at the end of the zip line ride. Going from 40km per hour to 0 head first just a few feet from this wall gives me a headache just thinking about it.
Peter’s #1 Ride
Our Ecuadorian train journey up and down the sheer 600 m (2,000 ft) cliffs of Nariz del Diablo in the Andes was a pure thrill. We were mildly disappointed when we learned we could no longer ride on top of the carriage (two Japanese tourists fell off and died), but the panoramic windows provided sufficiently knuckle-biting views.
Paul’s #1 Exciting Moment
Galloping down Main Street in Vilcabamba on a horse named Tequila. It would have made John Wayne very proud.
Peter’s #1 Rainfall
Passing through Mindo, the birding capital of Ecuador, we decided to take a waterfall walk through the rainforest. And it rained and rained and rained. It is the rainforest after all… ‘nuff said.
The Basílica del Voto Nacional in Quito offers intrepid travelers a chance to scale the soaring bell towers for blessed views of the city and area volcanoes. Paul said I look like a Broadway actor wannabe in this photo… it would make a great setting for a Cats-inspired musical: Bats! (In The Belfry)
Quito’s Old City, a wondrous maze of colonial architecture, is the largest and best-preserved in the Americas. Having endured a massive upgrade in recent years – with historic buildings restored and dicey barrios revitalized – the Old Town now boasts an impressive list of notable wonders: nearly 60 colonial churches and plazas, a bevy of Independence-era buildings, dozens … Continue reading “Reliquary of the Americas: Quito’s Old Town”
Quito’s Old City, a wondrous maze of colonial architecture, is the largest and best-preserved in the Americas. Having endured a massive upgrade in recent years – with historic buildings restored and dicey barrios revitalized – the Old Town now boasts an impressive list of notable wonders: nearly 60 colonial churches and plazas, a bevy of Independence-era buildings, dozens of private homes, and a long list of outstanding museums.
Wandering the Old Town is a treat for the eyes and I was entertained for days. I’m not normally a huge fan of Latin American capital cities but the lure of Quito’s centro histórico is hard to resist!
There’s not a lot to report from the Pacific Coast of Ecuador – we spent an uneventful week relaxing with our feet plunked in the sand, swinging in a hammock under palm trees, drinking cold beers and eating fresh catch seafood with piles of rice and fried plantains.
After months of being at altitude high in the dry Andes of Bolivia and Peru, I was craving water. Specifically the ocean. My home for the past decade has been coastal Maine and the sea has become a constant in my life. I was drained from my service as a Kiva Fellow crisscrossing Bolivia and Paul was ready for a break from the airlines.
It was time for some beach R&R.
Canoa was recommended to us by several travelers – it’s small enough to duck the surf-and-party scene yet large enough to offer good backpacker accommodation and an assortment of mom-and-pop restaurants. And with surfable waves and undeveloped beaches that stretch for miles, Canoa was our pick and we quickly settled into our comfy beachfront bungalow at the Hostal Baloo.
Flipping through the pages of Lonely Planet Ecuador we found a short segment on the Quilotoa Loop, a walking circuit in the central Andean highlands. Eager to leave the tourist-heavy main corridor of the Panamericana highway, this was right up our alley. Offering energetic walks through attractive valleys and nights in isolated Kichwa-speaking villages, this outdoor Ecuadorian excursion reminded us of our gratifying rambles in the UK and Ireland.
So we dumped our heavy stuff in storage at our friendly hostal in Latacunga and set off with light backpacks on a bus bound to Zumbahua. There we found a large crowd awaiting the appearance of Rafael Correa, the socialist president campaigning for his third term.
He’s wildly popular among Ecuador’s indigenous voters: he learned Kichwa (the dominant local language) and has systematically backed strong social programs and public works since he took office in 2007. Fortunately there are sufficient funds to implement these changes since the new constitution guarantees that 85% of proceeds from Ecuadorian resources stay in the country (rather than 15% previously) – much to the chagrin of large multinational companies.
Correa is part of a growing group of popular and pragmatic leftist leaders taking root in Latin America in the last decade, known as the Pink Tide, which rejects the “Washington consensus” policies of unchecked open markets and rampant privatization. Widely expected to win by a landslide, Correa is already the longest-serving Ecuadorian president in more than a century. The current political and economic stability offers enormous hope and optimism for a large part of previously disenfranchised Ecuadorians.
Our first stop was in Quilotoa, a settlement on the rim of Volcán Quilotoa with its stunning turquoise crater lake. We spent the night with other walkers from Germany, Australia, the United Kingdom and Brazil, sharing a hearty family-style meal. We love these kinds of hostales where meeting fellow travelers is easy and conversations flow breezily. It was chilly on the rim at nearly 4000 m (13,000 ft) but the camaraderie warmed our hearts.
Greeted with sunshine the next morning, we explored the lake and walked along the rim towards Chugchilán. All the small villages along the route have somewhat tongue-tricky names (such as Isinliví and Saquisilí) so we found it easier to refer to them by first letter (i.e. “I-town” and “S-town”).
The Nariz del Diablo (Devil’s Nose) train ride in Alausí, Ecuador is unlike most others.
Part of the crucial railway running from coastal Guayaquil to capital city Quito high in the Andes, this hair-raising stretch near Alausí zig-zags up an incredibly steep stretch of mountain – so sheer that a series of rocking switchbacks guide the train up nearly 600 meters (2000 feet) in just a few miles of track.
An engineering marvel when it was completed over 100 years ago, the Nariz del Diablo track still makes for one dizzying ride today. And thanks to the rebuilding efforts of current Ecuadorian president Rafael Correa, the entire railway line from the Pacific coast to the Andean highlands is set to reopen in a couple of months after decades of interrupted service.
What fun we had in Baños! I was somehow expecting this given that pretty much everyone we met had told us so. “It’s touristy,” they all warned us, “but you’ll barely notice it once you start doing stuff.”
Normally when my expectations are high about a place I tend to be underwhelmed when I get there. But in the case of Baños, I can honestly say it was more pleasing than I anticipated.
Baños is touristy. So much so that there are literally hundreds of hotels and restaurants in the relatively small town of 10,000 residents. But this also means that competition among businesses is intense so the quality is high and the prices very favorable to the tourist.
Our hotel, for example, Hostel La Chimenea was a delight: sparkling clean and spacious rooms with private bathrooms and balconies, a pool and sauna, wireless internet, a rooftop terrace with views of the surrounding mountains and waterfalls, a great breakfast restaurant, and friendly laid-back management. All this for a mere $8.50 a person!
The real charm of Baños is not the town but the surrounding area. There are miles of excellent hiking trails with views of the active Tungurahua volcano which towers above the valley at 5,023 m (16,480 ft). There is mountain biking past scores of waterfalls, mostly down hill with frequent buses to whisk you (and your wheels) back effortlessly to Baños. You can whitewater raft, bungee jump, zipline, rappel down waterfalls and rent ATV’s. And since the mountains descend rapidly to the eastern Amazon, you can even tour tropical indigenous areas and spot jungle wildlife.
After all this adventuring, you can relax in the numerous hot mineral springs in Baños (known officially as Baños de Agua Santa or “The Baths of Sacred Water”). Our favorite were the baths just two blocks from our hotel which sit beneath a striking 100 m waterfall. We went every day, sometimes during the mornings when we encountered quiet older Ecuadorians, and a couple times during the evening when it is packed with locals and travelers – the happening social scene in town.
Clearly there is much to love about Baños. Here are some of the many things we enjoyed during our visit:
As the Blizzard of 2013 bore down with full fury on New England, my world in Colombia was rocked as well. Just as I was stepping from the shower I suddenly felt a very strange vertigo and my feet became unsteady. Within moments I realized it wasn’t something physiological but rather seismological — an earthquake was underway! I quickly grabbed my clothes and headed for the stairs as hanging lamps swayed above me and books fell from shelves in the lobby.
It was over in 40 seconds. Everyone in the hotel was atwitter, the receptionist was on the phone calling family, she said this was highly unusual. I headed out to the colonial streets of Popayán and found people standing around, wide-eyed and waiting. We didn’t feel any significant aftershocks. Soon people got back to business and the city returned to normal.
I later learned that the temblor was no small incident, registering a whopping magnitude 7.0. The epicenter was just outside the town of Pasto, a pleasant provincial capital city where I spent the night two days prior. Fortunately there were no major injuries or damage but the quake was felt in the capital Bogotá 500 miles to the north and through much of Ecuador to the south.
Apparently this wasn’t my first earthquake as my home in Maine is subject to several small ones each year but are rarely felt. But this one — golly gee! — it literally almost knocked me to my knees. How astonishing to feel the colossal force of rupturing earth as it shakes, rattles and rolls over hundreds of miles.
It was my first real earthquake. I’m just thankful that there isn’t any shoveling as a result — snow or stone!
Well… another arrival and departure of Paul. It doesn’t get easier.
We had an extraordinary five weeks together in Ecuador’s wild playground: traipsing through the rainforest, flying on zip-lines above thundering waterfalls, crisscrossing the Equator, hiking past volcanoes, descending the steepest railroad track in the world, lounging on Pacific Coast beaches, galloping through the tropics on horseback, mountain biking from the Andes to the Amazon — we did it all.
It’s been a transient few months for us. I’ve been living in South America, volunteering and traveling through four countries. Paul has been moving between friends and family and joining me when he can. We have no fixed address since we rented our home.
But we’re not homeless. We’ve long yearned to be free of the hassles and headaches of maintaining a house and being tied down. It has been a long (and arduous) process of letting go.
We’re working to establish a new way of living, one that is freeing but also fleeting. The bonds of living together under one roof become slippery; special care is required to keep our relationship on meaningful footing.
This is new to us. It’s exciting, tricky, bold, and irregular… We’re learning as we craft new ways to engage our interests and passions and each other.
Today as I entered Colombia I was marveling (as usual) at the breathtakingly awesome Andes. And reflecting on my rambling ’round life — now in its fifth month.
The truth is I deeply miss Paul. But I’m also very happy. It puzzles me.
Then as this song popped in my headset the light bulb went off:
Let me come Home
Home is wherever I’m with you
Let me come Home
Home is whenever I’m with you