Sat 15th, Sun 16th - Latacunga and Quilotoa

Think this was the worst day of my life. TC left for home and his job at 3 in the morning. Breakfast time was so boring without someone to crack jokes with, and I could see that the rest of the day was going to be a bit of a trial, having to get around sans safety blanket.


I was determined to leave Quito and my comfort zone. Well TC had buggered off and it seemed pointless delaying the start of the trip any longer. I caught a taxi down to the Terminal Terrestre. TC and I had caught buses out to the hot springs in Papallacta, to the east, and to Otavalo, north of Quito from the terminal. The usual procedure was to catch the Trole across town and get a ticket at one of the numerous windows at the terminal.


Not this day. The driver asked me where I was going and then tracked down the bus on the traffic circle outside the terminal, he overtook the bus (while being heavy handed with his horn) and screeched up in front of it . (Think B grade car chase and you are nearly there) I climbed out of the taxi and there was this almighty fuss and din because the bus was blocking the traffic.


Anyway the taxi driver started to move away before I had my bag out of his boot, so the tout and myself had to run down the road bashing his car and shouting. By this point the traffic was backed up all the way round the circle and showing no patience with me. Got the bag and the bus started moving too- the traffic stopped honking and the tout threw me and my bag into the bus on top of a small child. Phew!

When the bus arrived in Latacunga I foolishly assumed that it would come up to a terminal, but it didn´t. I think it slowed down momentarily outside the market and then it was off!
I think I panicked as the bus left town because I couldn't get my brain and mouth to synchronise some Spanish to get the man to stop the bus. I jumped out of the bus at a petrol station outside the town and caught a taxi back to the town and the hotel I was booked into.

The hotel was literally a flea pit and I have the spots on my tummy to prove it, the carpet was dank and the walls dreary. It was around this point that my spirit broke and I cried and nearly went back to London. I didn´t though, I booked myself on a 2 day tour round Quilotoa crater. It is a volcanic crater with an emerald lake inside it, muy lindo!

and I think I had one of the best days of my life so far. The trek was supposed to take 3 hours but at 4000 m the altitude gripped my head and my stomach most severely and I puked on the trail after 25 mins.... in front of the group. I felt so bad but the embarrassment was worse than the physical effects.

So I abandoned the trek and went and sat in the village and waited for the group to return... And actually it was excellent. There were two little indigenas (indigenous people) directing traffic and touting for their mother´s shop and they started talking to me. I showed them my ipod and let them listen to some music - pic below. They told me it was good, but maybe I shouldn´t be using kids who live in a hut in the mountains as a benchmark for my musical tastes?

By the way, Madonna owes me some commission...


This was the lake filled crater, I was supposed to walk around, also I was supposed to stay the night here and then carry on to some other towns in the area, but I had to get to lower ground

and abandoned the rather romantic idea of spending the night at the top of the crater... plus it was freezing and they´d run out of beer.