Ecuador - Quito and Cotopaxi - Part II

Saturday 19th November – Rest Day

After all the excitement of the Galapagos today I did nothing at all.  Feeling completely wrecked I started to plan my time in Peru.  It was much needed rest.  The one mission I did go on today was to find somewhere to develop my underwater photos from Galapagos.  I cannot wait to see how and if they came out.  But the mission was a resounding failure.  Nowhere at all seems to develop photos.  How times have changed.  Damn you digital cameras.

So now I’ll take the chance to say how much I enjoy staying at The Secret Garden, both in Cotopaxi and Quito.  It’s a very sociable hostel and the staff, who are all volunteers and travellers themselves, are great to hang out with.  I know I’m going to forget someone off this list: Hannah, Laura, Martin, Leigh, Chris, Logan and Remi.  I have had some great in-depth discussions with Logan about music, especially with him being a fellow Trent Reznor admirer.  Someday when I make it to SXSW in Austin, Texas, where Logan is from, I’m sure the conversations will continue.

Sunday 20th November – So Much For Dry Sundays

Another day of basically nothing.  Again spend most of the day planning and slowly but surely getting there.  One of the down sides of travelling is the actually travelling part.  This continent is so vast that just getting from one place to another can be a multiple bus and many hour journey.

Somehow in The Secret Garden today the dry Sunday rule in Ecuador seemed to be thrown out the window.  Everyone was very well oiled (apart from me and a few others).  It was one of the liveliest nights in the hostel (good and bad – tempers frayed at some stages!) and all this on a day when alcohol is not allowed to be sold.  I spent most of the night on the fringes watching the mayhem unfold chatting to Elisha, Helen and Jemima.  Tomorrow a few of us are going to explore Quito.  I have now been in and out of this city three times and never actually spent any time seeing it.  Time to fix that.

Monday 21st November – The Cathedral Climb

Up until now I had not given Quito the time it deserved.  Today Helen and I spent the day walking around the old town and it has some beautiful plazas and buildings.  The little side street are full of knick-knack shops that sell everything.  One type of shop that I have noticed in the city has a bizarre combination of goods – it sells refrigerators and motorbikes.  When I say one type of shop I don’t mean there was only one like this, there were many.  I have gone through all logical reasoning as to why a shop would pick these two goods as its main products and have failed to come up with one. I know motorbikes are cool, but this is taking it a bit too far.

After lazily wandering around the streets we stumbled across a place to develop my Galapagos underwater photos.  Using our very best Spanglish and two visits to the shop we worked out that they can develop them and put them on a CD.  Fantastic.  Now while waiting for them to be processed it’s time to climb the basilica.

During my time in Quito several people have mentioned that it is possible to climb the towers and spires of the basilica.  It’s something I was hoping to do at some stage, even with the warning that the climb is only facilitated by rickety ladders in places.  So with our courage plucked up, Helen and I head for the climb.  The start of the climb is easy – just a lot of steps until we reach the fourth floor.  At this point it does become a little more tricky.  To get to the next level we have to climb steep metal ladders which lead onto platforms that don’t exactly feel secure underfoot and each time we think we have reached the last ladder, another one appears.  Eventually we reach the top and find ourselves standing behind the faces of the clock tower – each face telling a different time.  With both me and Helen not being too keen on heights, we are pretty pleased with ourselves.  Little did we know what was to come.  After making our way back down to the third floor, we cross a very flimsy bridge which runs along the inside of the basilica’s roof. After venturing across this we reach the spire.  At the end of the bridge is an even steeper ladder and it’s not in good condition – some of the uprights are no longer connected where they should be.  Undeterred we scramble up and reach the outside of the basilica’s roof.  After a brief look down and with not really wanting to know how high we are up, we walk around the outside of the spire and discover the final two ladders.  Up until this point all the ladders at least had the good fortune to be inside the building.  Not these.  The final ladders are on the outside of the building, almost vertical and with spectacularly scary views straight down to the ground.  It takes a massive amount of determination, but I decide that I’ve come this far, I can’t go back now.  Helen decides that it’s too much for her and she won’t venture further.  As I grip the ladder, I go up as quick as I can with only one thought repeating in my head: ‘The quicker I’m up, the quicker it’s over.  The quicker I’m up, the quicker it’s over’.  And I make it.  The views are amazing across the whole city.  But it’s a relatively small platform and the barriers aren’t very high which causes too many butterflies in my stomach.  But just as I’m thinking it’s time to head back down, I turn around to see Helen’s head pop up over the top of the ladder.  She did it.  It’s high-fives all round!  The climb back down is equally as scary.

After that we headed for a much deserved drink and then to collect the photos.  Well that was the plan.  After the drink, we get to the photo shop only to be handed two rolls of negatives.  The guy tells us that his computer is broken and he couldn’t put them on a CD.  But that’s only the beginning.  The negatives aren’t looking good at all.  A lot are totally blank.  A few have what look like fish on them, but not many.  If I get five good photos out of this I’ll be happy.  We then found a different shop that put the photos onto a CD from the negatives.  But I’m still left not knowing if the photos came out or not as my laptop has no CD drive and no one in the hostel seems to have one either.  This wait is starting to kill me.  Or maybe I’m better not knowing.  Something I’ll worry about after climbing Pichincha for a second time tomorrow.

Tuesday 22nd November – Pichincha – Part II

Today I climbed Pichincha again, this time along with Helen.  The last time I made the school boy error of not taking any food and nowhere near enough water.  So the first stop was for snacks.  I definitely did not want to feel the way I felt after doing it the first time.  The climb again was excellent, but towards the summit I decided to take a different and what seemed more direct and easier route than the last time.  I think the lesson to be learned here is never follow a blind man – sorry Helen.  It was more direct but certainly wasn’t easier.  There was so much loose sand that it was two steps forwards-one step back (at this altitude every step forward is precious) and when we came across rocks they were almost vertical, having to turn back on one occasion.  But undeterred, we scrambled on and hit the summit in two hours and 28 minutes – 15 minutes quicker than the first time which I was very impressed with.  After taking a well-deserved rest and lunch break at the top, going down was a repeat of the first time – bombing down through the sand like skiing, losing control and whacking my knee against a rock as I fell to the ground trying to stop myself.  Helen wasn’t too sure about this tactic to get down quicker, but after gentle persuasion and seeing how much fun it was, she soon followed – with a little bit more dexterity than me and less injuries.

After making our way back to the hostel, we chilled out on the roof top terrace for a few drinks, and soon it was time to say goodbye to Elisha.  She’s off on a trek to the jungle while I’ve decided to delay my Peru plans and head to Cotopaxi and Banos again with Helen.  I’ll make it to Peru at some stage.  I’m really going to miss Elisha.  She’s been an awesome and fun  travel buddy for the last few weeks.

Wednesday 23rd November – Cotopaxi – Waterfall Jump – Part II

Off to Cotopaxi again for the second time.  I think this is definitely my favourite place so far on my trip.  The view of Cotopaxi volcano, the hostel, the isolation. 

When we arrive we get a bite to eat and it’s straight off to do the waterfall jump.  This time instead of being apprehensive about it, I’m really excited about it.  Once we all trekked along the river, clambered onto the ledge and prepared ourselves for the jump my memories came flooding back about how cold it actually is.  My excitement starts to wane pretty fast.  As we are standing there Helen gets a bit apprehensive too saying that she doesn’t really like jumping into water.  But nevertheless, she steps forward and leaps down – just a little bit too much to the right of the target spot for comfort.  Myself and Remi, who led us up, gasp a little as that’s where the rocks are.  But thankfully Helen is fine and swims out.  My leap is just as before and one of the best ways ever to get your blood pumping.  Once I manage to get my breathe back and struggle out of the pool Helen is standing there with a huge grin on her face.  She’s so proud of herself and rightly so.

When we arrived back at the hostel I spotted a PC in the corner – with a CD drive.  Finally I could check my Galapagos photos.  It was with some trepidation that I put the CD in expecting the worst but WOW.  I had no need to worry at all – the photos were amazing.  Thank god.

Unfortunately this time at Cotopaxi the weather is poor - too cloudy to see the volcano.  I really hope it clears tomorrow.  Not only for the amazing view but also because we are going horse riding.  From what I have been told these horses will be nothing like the ones on Galapagos – these horses gallop.  This I am very excited about, but also very worries about.  Fingers crossed this won’t be my last blog entry.

Thursday 24th November – Cotopaxi – I Found Shergar!

The horse riding today was so much fun.  It was an early start at 7 am to get breakfast, but not long after we were getting mounted onto our horses.  I instantly thought my horse did not like me at all.  He keep making lots of noise, grunting and shaking his head.  But then again, if someone decided to jump on my back at 8.30 am I’m sure I would do the same if not a lot worse.  Once we started though I knew I was on a good horse.  He was very responsive and did exactly as I wanted.  Stopping, speeding up, slowing down.  The start of the route was a dirt track and all of us were bunched together, but we soon moved into a field and at this point I decided to see how he really performed.  Having got up a little speed along the dirt track, it was time to see if he (and more importantly I) could get up to a gallop.  After a few heel kicks we started flying across the field.  We were galloping.  I had never done this before so was equally excited and scared in case I would lose control and fall off.  But after a few minutes I got the hang of it.  I’m really beginning to like this horse riding carry on. 

Now, when I say gallop, I have no idea about all the different technical terms for the speed that a horse goes at: gallop, canter, trot, standing in the one spot.  But to me it was fast so it was a gallop.  I don’t care what the other ‘experienced ‘ horse riders who were there said.  I galloped on a horse.  End of discussion.

Helen was not so lucky, her horse seemed to be behaving like mine on the Galapagos Islands and doing what it wanted, not what Helen wanted.  But our guide was good enough to swap horses with her about halfway round and soon she was flying along with the rest of us.  The whole way along the route we were followed by two dogs from the hostel.  Both these and our horses seemed to provoke the anger of all other dogs along the route.  But never have I felt more in control.  Dogs coming tearing along the road: growling, teeth bared, vicious.  Hey I don’t care, I’m on a horse.  Take your best shot.

As much fun as the horse riding was, I paid for it when we finally arrived back at the hostel.  Towards the end the horses knew they were nearly home and just wanted to get there as quick as possible, so going slow wasn’t an option, the horses did what they wanted - galloped.  A very sore experience.  My legs were killing me.  Only towards the end did I realise that my saddle cushion was not on correctly and my calf had been banging against the horse the whole time.  So to end the evening I relaxed in the jacuzzi before dinner and an early night.