Vagabond Soles

After a month of picturesque tropical beaches, impromptu dance parties in volcanic craters, and enough rice and beans con chuleta to feed a village for a year, it was time to go on a honeymoon. After such a magical time in Costa Rica, we certainly deserved the horrible flight we had. We spent an entire day in the airport in Bogotá—we reasoned that 10 hours in the city wasn’t worth $40 each in exit fees, not to mention stamps taking up valuable space in our passports—but eventually we touched down in the middle of the world, Quito, Ecuador.

Since we arrived late at night, we took a taxi straight to our hotel in the Old City and went to sleep. The center of Quito is divided into two parts—the Old City is a Unesco World Heritage Site, home to the lion’s share of the city’s colonial architecture; the bulk of accommodations and restaurants are in the New City, a more modern area with skyscrapers and whatnot. We would be in Quito for only a few days, so we chose to stay in the old city. It was difficult to get a feel for the city at night, through the window of a speeding taxi, so we really didn’t know what to expect, but this is what we woke up to:

Quito is a magnificent city, and it’s not surprising that it was the first city to be declared a World Heritage Site. It is said that of the various South American cities established under Spanish colonialism, Quito is the best preserved, and the mark left by the imperialist Spaniards is unmistakable. Indeed, the city looks and feels in many ways like Madrid and other Spanish cities. The cobblestone streets are narrow and the elegant brick buildings tall, providing much-needed respite from the harsh Andean (and equatorial) sun, which at this altitude must be only a few miles away. The public squares, too, reminded me of my time in Spain—broad plazas flanked by cathedrals, monasteries, and churches with chic little cafes, where tourists sit people watching (and pigeon watching) and sipping on coffee.

But Ecuador is not Spain, and it’s distinctly Andean flavor becomes evident when you see the indigenous women in traditional dress. Dark skin under colorful skirts and shawls, their short frames topped with the fedora and bowler-type hats traditional in the region. Old women who, in their prime, couldn’t have been more than five feet tall, hunched over to half their height, shuffling slowly under loads twice their weight. And old men, selling teas made from coca leaves (though I was disappointed not to encounter the leaves themselves).

Quito is a huge city the sprawls for miles, but the old city itself is well defined, hemmed in on most sides by mountains, so you can tell you’re getting out of the center if you start climbing. There are various statues and monuments perched on hills overlooking the city, but we had read that it was dangerous to hike around these areas, as robberies and assaults are common. Nevertheless, we saw a statue of an angel up on a hill which was certain to offer a spectacular view of the city. It seemed only a short hike (20 minutes tops), so we decided to head towards it, and to turn back if at any point it seemed unsafe.

Sure enough, as we ascended the streets away from the center, the crowds dissipated more and more, until only the occasional shopkeeper or restaurant could be seen. At one point, we were being followed by a sketchy looking middle-aged man with a bulky jacket, though it was warm out. I kept tabs on him, glancing around nonchalantly. He followed us, about 20 or 30 meters behind, for several blocks. Finally, we stopped on a corner in front of an open shop and I turned around completely, staring him full in the face. He immediately looked away and crossed the street, passed an intersection, ducked into an alley and disappeared.

We decided not to stray any further from civilization, but in the next block we found ourselves at the foot of the steps leading to the angel. We approached them to take a look. A few steps up sat two old men talking to one another. “Good morning,” I offered in Spanish. The men stared at us with blank looks on their faces. “Are these the stairs that lead to the statue?” I was just trying to make conversation. They stared some more. After an awkward silence of thirty seconds, one of them began to shake his head slowly. He pulled his thumb across his neck in an ominous gesture. More staring. “Aqui te roban,” he said at last, pointing to the bulge in my hoodie where my camera was so cleverly hidden. “Aqui te matan.” Here, they rob you. Here, they kill you. He made the gesture again, then turned and pointed behind him. On the white cement wall was stenciled in Spanish “Zone of Robberies—Do Not Enter.” Well, that’s clear enough, I thought. How nice of them to reserve an area of the city exclusively for muggers. We headed back down toward the center.

We spent only one full day in Quito, since we were eager to get to Cuenca and find teaching jobs before the semester got too far underway. But in our brief stay, we saw loads of beautiful old Catholic buildings, statues of dead heroes, and bustling markets with deliciously cheap food. We didn’t do our homework, so we know nothing of the history of the various landmarks we visited, or even what they were called. We just ambled around like ignorant tourists going, “that looks cool, let’s take a picture.” Here are the results:

We decided to break up the 10-hour journey to Cuenca with a stop about halfway in the small city of Baños. Baños is one of the most visited cities in Ecuador, by foreigners and Ecuadorians alike. The main attractions are a series of volcanically heated, mineral rich, thermal baths. For around two dollars, you can relax and swim in several different pools of varying temperatures, from pleasantly lukewarm to scalding hot. The water is a murky, sulfurish yellow color and smells something like cucumber mud, and it’s rumored to cure all kinds of ailments, from skin diseases to cancer. Of course, it’s a little unsettling to think that you may be sharing a pool with a gaggle of infected, afflicted old people, but that’s why we don’t think about those things. We went at the crack of dawn to beat the gringo hordes. At that time it’s chilly outside, and it’s inspiring to sit back and watch steam rise from the hot yellow water, while in the background you see a waterfall gently cascading down a cliff.

Oh yeah, the waterfalls. Baños is also known for its waterfalls. A few of them flank the city and fall from the surrounding hillsides. Many more can be seen along the road that leads downhill out of town, falling several thousand feet over about 80km before arriving in the Oriente, at the edge of the Amazon jungle. Baños is also an adventure capital, so you can travel this route on all kinds of wheeled contraptions—mountain bikes, dune buggies, four-wheelers, motorcycles and more. We rented a rickety old quad with absolutely no suspension and had a blast.

Hiking is another popular activity in Baños. The elevation (it’s much lower than Quito) makes for a subtropical climate—warm enough for T-shirts without getting overwhelmingly hot or muggy, as it can on the coast or in the jungle—so it’s perfect for walking around and enjoying nature, and ascending the various trails that lead out of the town and up the hillsides provides for spectacular views of the town, nestled comfortably in the river valley.

Leia and I discussed how perfect Baños would be to live in, both for its climate and its size. We contemplated looking for jobs there, but it’s too small of a city to have many opportunities for English teachers, and Leia already had an interview scheduled in Cuenca, so after a few short days in Baños, it was on to the next adventure.