Peru – Where tourism, history, and hippies collide

First up, let me just say that I hear I have a following out there. Where do I hear this from? Ricardo’s blog. Um, hello out there?! Where is the love?! I only ever get posts from Leslie (thanks Leslie!) and Elena and my mom. Katy? Kassia? Anyone? I have all kinds of pictures of Ricardo…

Back to the narrative. We’ve just come back to the ship after four days in the Cusco/Machu Picchu region of Peru. It was phenomenal. I laughed, I cried, I got scalded, I was rank, and I was weirded out.

Let’s begin with the journey. Trip planning was a difficult process for this leg. First off, it’s the national holiday. Which day you ask? Every day my friends. This is not a single Bastile Day, Guy Fox Day, Independence Day kind of thing. We arrived on July 24, the holiday was technically July 28, but who’d know since every single day there was a parade, celebration, or festivity. But because of this national week of celebration, hotels, buses, and trains were booked way in advance. What did this mean for us? It meant that this trip was far from luxe despite it still being fabulous. What else, you may ask? The surrealist level was far, far higher than normal.

We spent our first day in Lima where we allowed Night Guy to completely screw Day Guy. We went on a trip of Colonial Lima, which was lovely and then out to a wonderful dinner with 15 people at a fabulous restaurant in Lima called Huaca Pucllana. We brought a couple students along with us who were lovely and fun and sweet but we didn’t get back to the ship until about 11pm. This would have been fine but we had to wake up at 3:30 am the next morning. Suffice it to say, we were really tired and really not sweet. Also we learned very much the hard way that coca leaf candy and tired 8 year olds do not mix. But more about that to come.

We flew from Lima to Cusco where we met our driver who took us to a town called Ollantaytambo. From there we planned to catch the train to Aguascalientes, the town at the base of the mountains of Machu Picchu. But before we left from there we had some time to kill. We did a little shopping (The Kid began to collect instruments seriously there) and had some lunch. Then we decided to go check out the Inca ruins there in town. And that is where we learned that the Kid really did have vertigo. He’d been wigged out in Chile but we didn’t realize it was a big thing until we’d climbed up the stairs of the ruins in Olla and found that he could not with ease, climb back down. So after coaxing, begging and yelling we got him down, grabbed our stuff and headed to the train. He was tired, weepy, and angry. When we got to the station they were selling coca leaf candy. So we bought some, popped it in our mouths and offered The Kid a piece. MISTAKE! BIG MISTAKE. The candy proceeded to launch him into a series of near hysterical carryings on. Everything upset him, all the way into Aguascalientes. Crying, yelling, anger, remonstrations, and all at the same time, spewed forth from him. Thankfully, by the time we got to the town, he was just limply upset and we vowed to check in, get dinner and a shower and then get to bed.

Little did we know the many flaws in that plan.

We checked into our so-called four star hotel in Aguascalientes. It was clean and that was the best we can say for it. It was damp and dark and loud. But it was just for a couple nights, so no biggie right? We hadn’t showered that day and were looking forward to washing the travel grime from ourselves.

We went on out for dinner on the recommendation of a friend to a restaurant called Indo Feliz. They were, of course booked. So we ended up with some perfectly adequate pizza and The Kid had a cream of mushroom soup. It was overpriced for what it was and it wasn’t great, but it was dinner.

It wasn’t until we got back to the hotel when the fun really started. We piled into the bathroom to get the kid into the shower. It was an odd shower. You basically had to get into it to turn it on, so wetness ensued. It was then we realized that there was no cold water. No biggie right? Better to have hot than cold? Not really because the hot was so hot that it scalded the hell out of us. So I went down to explain we needed cold water. Thus began the saga of the Hotel El Santuario. They guy came up, toggled a switch and left. He came back, opened a tap and then left. He came, checked the tap, and then left. We decided to just put the Kid to bed and worry about his shower the next day. For the next hour and a half the guy came and went and cold water did not appear. Finally we decide to suck it up, go to sleep and worry about it the next morning.

The next morning, Machu Picchu day, we went down for breakfast and were told we could use another room to shower in. We asked to just move to that room and that was greeted with stares. After about 10 minutes we had them convinced, we grabbed our stuff and moved. A shower would be ours! But not until after the ruins.

Of course, it was pouring down rain and we had no ponchos. So on our way to get our tickets, we bought some ponchos for about $1 each which would serve us well for much of the day. We got the bus tickets, got the ruins tickets, and got in line. By then Semester @ Sea had appeared and we were no longer looking at a quiet day of ruins (were we ever? What fools are we?!). It wasn’t until we were ½ way to the ruins that Ricardo realized his glasses were no longer on his face. We scrambled and looked all around. I offered to go back. He said no, we decided to carry on and get the glasses on our way back. I can end this chapter of the story by saying that they have never been recovered.

The ruins were incredible. We got there and powered up to the Gate House and then made our way back down. The stairs were incredible and the site was a complete otherworldly experience. Ricardo has described it quite elegantly on his blog so please refer to him for the appropriate descriptions. And please enjoy the pictures throughout here. We did manage to make it to a rather sheltered, private area of the ruins which left us and the vizcachas (picture here, description in Chile) to sit and muse in peace.

Now to the hippies. Machu Picchu is the Mecca of the hippy trail. There were old hippies cum boomers in their Columbia gear and Gore-Tex. There were young hippies in dreadlocks and cotton drawstring pants. There were Brazilian hippies, German hippies, American hippies, French hippies and Latin hippies. They kissed walls. They lay their faces on the stones and cooed at the “power” of them. They stroked doorways, they sat on steps, they ignored the no food in the park rules, and they ate their fruit and drank their coca tea. They were more or less harmless compared to the huge number of Peruvians and Argentineans who were trying to prove the “Can you hear me now?” campaign of their Movistar and Claro phones by screaming at the tops of their lungs about their being on top of the ruins of Machu Picchu. Some places, phones should not go.

Now to the surreal. It seems that there are llamas who are all over this place. While the tourists struggle with the stairs, these camel cousins hop lightly from place to place. We did see one stupid American who separated a young llama from it’s parent and watched with a certain glee as the Mama Llama came up, spat at her, and then charged her. Get your pictures while you can folks. Don’t try to pose the llamas.

That night we did indeed get a shower and a decent meal. Which was good because the next morning we were headed back to Cusco.

On the train on the way to Cusco we paused at one point. It seems there was someone who needed to board. We’d been offered drinks and The Kid was happily reading his book, when the mystical sound of pan pipes began to crackle over the loudspeaker. I looked up to see a person in traditional dress with a mask on and a stuffed llama in his arms. This sort of thing would have caused the CIA and he FBI to have a conniption fit in the US. But not here. You see here, on the train, this was but a prelude. Prelude to what? An alpaca fashion show my friends! The weird guy danced through the aisles, patting his llama while the train attendants modeled high-end alpaca sweaters to the strains of “Are You Going to San Francisco” sung in French. The Kid looked up and asked what was going on. I explained it was a fashion show to sell sweaters on the train. He shrugged, said “Latin America,” and went back to his book. I think that says it all.

We got to Cusco by around 11:00 am and tried to check into the next hotel. I’d booked it (and paid for it) through Orbitz. But they had no record of us. WTF? So we sat huffing and puffing and scarfing coca tea (it’s 12000 feet elevation in Cusco) while they figured out what to do with us. They finally gave us a room right above reception. It was spacious and clean. Little could we foresee what this one would hold.

With but a few hours in Cusco we hit the town with gusto. We went to the cathedral. OMFG is all I can say. Gold and silver dripped from altars and sanctuaries. Gilt frames surrounded pictures the size of my living room. Awe was the word for it. It left me spellbound and the pinnacle for us was being in the crypt (clean, plastered, no bones) with El Inca Garcilaso’s grave and watching Ricardo be moved to tears by it.

Then we headed for the Qoricancha, a Dominican monastery built on the ruins of an Inca temple. Amazingly cool as well.

But from there we headed to the Center for Indigenous Textiles. And this proved to be the highpoint of the Cusco leg. This is a center run by the indigenous weavers of the area. All textiles are woven on backstrap looms and are made with alpaca, wool, and natural dyes. The Kid was fascinated and spoke with several of the Indians about how they worked, how long it took and their designs. The museum there was amazing and the textiles divine. Many will see them since we splurged on several.

We ran into some friends there and decided, despite it being 7pm (Oh that Night Guy!!) that we’d hit the Pre-Columbian Art museum. This we did and the silver, gold and shell rooms stood out with their delicate and intricate work. At 8pm, The Kid finally tanked and we headed across the square to a restaurant called “Fallen Angel.” This was a tremendously fabulous place with delicious food. It can only be described as a Gay Funhouse. We loved it!

Back to the hotel where the flaw of this stay revealed itself. You see this hotel offers live music in the evenings for their clientele. Where? Right below our fraking room. No sleep for me until the end of the concert. The Kid? Fell asleep like he was dead. The Mom? With earplugs I didn’t sleep till about 11 pm.

Overall, despite the complaining I know is in this, Peru was incredible. The art, the ruins, the Pre-Columbian culture, the textiles, the food, it was absolutely, massively great.

Next stop: Costa Rica!

Anne & Patrick

YEAH!!! I am so incredibly happy for you both! I don't have your email Anne, and I can't currently find Patrick's. But Ricardo told me and I am totally thrilled for you both! Tons and tons of love,
Zoë

Ch-ch-ch-Chile!

Ahoy there, mateys! We are once again sailing along (or rolling along as the case may be) on our way from Valparaiso, Chile to Callao, Peru. We’ve had a phenomenal time in Chile in the completely out-of-this-world San Pedro de Atacama.

Our first day in Chile, we took off from Valparaiso to the Santiago airport where we grabbed a flight to the city of Calama. Calama is a copper mining city (Chile’s #1 export to the world), full of Codelco guys and mining and almost nothing else. Once there we had a classic Latin rental car experience where the car we’d reserved through Orbitz was not the car they had for us. But they could give us a smaller car for the same price. Um, no thanks! We’ll take a better car for the same price, thank you! So it took some wrangling, but once we went ahead and made it clear that we were not taking the smaller car for the same price, we were in business. Then it was an hour and a half drive through the desert to San Pedro de Atacama, where we stayed.

Our hotel was spectacular. Usually this sort of thing is nice and all, but this was incredible: adobe with thatched roofs, colored glass, and a view of the Andes. There’s nothing like getting up in the morning, heading out to an excellent, fresh breakfast and looking at snow capped mountains. Wow!

On our first day in San Pedro, we made our way into town and headed to the Gustavo Le Paige museum where the Atacama mummies were supposed to be. Bummer for us, they went back to the Atacameños about 6 weeks ago. But the museum was still very interesting, all about the ways in which people survived in the Atacama for thousands of years.

The Atacama is the driest place on earth. There are places there where it has never rained at all. Ever. But while it’s a true desert with areas of sand dunes and desolation, it’s also got a strange combination of other geologic features. There is sedimentary rock, huge salt formations, salt flats, lagoons, and also geysers, all of which we were able to partake of.

After the museum, we grabbed some lunch and then headed out to the salt flats. They sneak up on you as you head down packed salt roads in a landscape of red, eroding, hills. Without noticing, we found ourselves in the midst of plains of salt blooms and formations headed towards a lake populated by three different kinds of, believe it or not, flamingoes. So here in the midst of an endless field of white, grey, and sparkling coral-like salt blooms, existed a clear blue lake and bright pink flamingoes against a backdrop of snow-capped Andes. Surreal, but stunning!

The next day we woke at the ungodly hour of 3:30 am to head out to the El Tatio geysers. These are the highest geysers in the world at an altitude of 4321 meters (about 13,000 feet). The bus arrived for us at 4 am and drove us up to the geyser field where we could watch the sun rise in the midst of clouds of steam and gushing, boiling water. Because it was so high, and it was winter as well, it was cold (-12 C, 15 F). So we were in layers and layers of clothing to stay warm. Certain types of algae, which live in boiling water, grow all around the geyser spouts, turning the ground green, amber, and orange in and amongst the ice and salt. There the tour company cooked our eggs in the boiling water of a geyser and heated our hot chocolate there as well.

After our yummy and hot breakfast we headed to the thermal springs there where all three of us managed to get into bathing suits (of a sort, underwear for the Kid and one of Ricardo’s t-shirts and boxers for me) and got into one of the thermal pools. It was fine for the first 10 minutes or so, but it wasn’t really warm enough given how cold it was outside.

So after freezing our butts off in order to say we did it, we brought our deep frozen selves back onto the bus where we headed back down the mountains on a trail through the micro climate of the sub-Cordillera. There we watched vicuñas (wild alpacas) and native birds, and even caught site of these bizarre rabbit things called vizcochas which are – I kid you not! – greenish colored rabbits with a squirrel like tail who hop kind of like a kangaroo.

From there we continued on to an indigenous village where we had the most fabulously delicious llama shish kebabs, cheese empanadas, and sopapillas while we admired the vistas and paid 200 pesos to use the water in the bathrooms even though there was no water. It was pretty much worth it for the food alone, which was some of the best we ate in all of Chile.

Once we got back to the hotel, we showered, crashed and headed out for divine steaks with sweet onions (I have got to figure out hot to make these, they have honey and cinnamon in them and they are like candy and I love them!). We realized it was going to be sunset soon so we drove over to an area called the Valle de la Luna (the Valley of the Moon).

The Valle de la Luna is a place unlike any I have ever been before. The rumor is that when the moon landing was faked this was the place they filmed it, but that doesn’t do it justice. I have never been to Bryce, Arches, or Grand Canyon, but this seems to be a combination of the Sahara (also never been there, but come on, doesn’t everyone have an image of that?), and all of the Southwest of the US. We parked and climbed up an enormous sand dune (which was a total bitch at 8,700 feet altitude) only to find that we had other ridges to climb to see the sunset properly. The Kid developed a little vertigo and I developed a dust induced asthmatic cough, so we called it quits and decided to come back the next morning during the day to explore.

This turned out to be the best choice we could have ever made. We spent about 3 hours the next day wandering over the plains, taking pictures of everything including Guanacos (another relative of the llama and alpaca), and hiking and climbing into salt caves. These looked like bizarre lego creations, or a Goudy church even, coated in sand with areas where the salt glistened through and invited tasting (because how many people have actually climbed through an area made entirely of table salt?!). The caves were partially open at the top (good for those of us with claustrophobia) and required scrambling, crawling and staring in awe.

By then were tired, dusty and hungry and we made our way back into town, ate, shopped for some trinkets and decided to head out to the archaeological site of Tulor. Tulor is a former settlement that dates from around 800 BCE to abut 300 CE. It consists of these incredible adobe, bubble shaped houses, all attached to one another and buried in the sand. It was so different from any ruins we’d seen before. It literally looked like mud colored bubble wrap that had been popped. There was a nice little museum that explained the culture and the way the people survived in this desolate place.

Sadly our time had more or less come to an end. Yesterday we got up at 4 am (ouch!!), drove back to Calama and headed back to Valparaiso. It took us just shy of 12 hours to get back, and when we did, we finally scrubbed ourselves clean of dust, ate a magnificent dinner overlooking the harbor of Valparaiso, hit the grocery store for cereal, wine (OMG can the Chileans make red wine!), water and instant espresso, and managed to get on the boat ½ hour before on-ship-time (the time which you are required to be signed in and have your passports in. The ship can leave any time after that and for every five minutes you’re late you get one hour of “dock time” where you are required to cool your heals on the ship while in port).

This trip was one of the most impressive experiences I have had. It was stark, stunning, overwhelming, awe inspiring, and exhausting. I am hoping that the next three days can be restful for me because Lima is our next stop and that means I need the energy for Machu Picchu.

Creative Cooking

We’re on our 6th day of sailing now. We left Ecuador and have done nothing but sail through very rolling seas (which apparently are not that high, but they’re higher than I’d like, thank you very much!). The monotony of the rolling combined with the monotony of the food has driven me to desperate measures.

The kitchen and dining room staff on the ship are as sweet and as kind as they can be. For the most part they are all Philipino, although there are some West Indians as well. The problem is that the food they cook is not native to them and it all tastes somewhat odd. Couple this with the fact that all our water is essentially reclaimed in the desalination plant of the ship, and you have a culinary crisis on your hands.

Breakfast is the best meal of the day. They bake all the breads and pastries and they are wonderful. There are always eggs, potatoes, some meat, cereal, hot cereal, fruit, yogurt, and toast as well. In particular the chocolate croissants are delicious.

The problems come at lunch and dinner. There is always a salad bar. This consists of iceberg lettuce, cucumbers, the occasional green pepper and dressing. Always two dressings, usually one which I will not eat (the kind you like mom) a French or a 1000 Island. There is a pasta dish with every meal, usually with some kind of frozen veggie in it, rarely with tomato based sauce. There is a fish in a sauce of some kind and a meat in a sauce of some kind. And here is where the problems begin.

I don’t want any more wet food. I don’t want thick, boogery, creamy sauces that never taste quite right. I want a baked chicken. I want things grilled. And I want vegetables that are not previously frozen or that are not salad based.

So The Kid and I have begun to “cook” in the dining hall. Two nights ago I “made” a nice light pasta. There was blue cheese in the salad bar so I took it, put hot pasta (with no sauce on it) on top and mixed it around. A dash of pepper, dash of Worcestershire, and voila! Today at lunch we made “deconstructed twice baked potatoes.” We took the salad bar bacon, butter, cheese, and mashed potatoes and mixed it up. Very tasty.

Right now I am making “bathtub cream cheese.” I grabbed a plain yogurt this morning and am draining it in the fridge in my room. I plan to grab some nuts from the bar tonight and mix them with honey and the cream cheese in order to have a topping for tomorrow’s bagel or English muffin. And this is what I have been reduced to.

Ecuador Part 3

Ecuador, Part 3

On our last full day in Ecuador we decided to go to some of the market towns. There are three just outside Cuenca. Gualaceyo, Chordoleg, and Sigsig all have different markets and we thought it would be great to go see them.

It turns out that for about $40 you can hire a cab to take you to these places, wait for you, and then take you back. But if you do this, you miss the “fun” of the local buses.

Buses in Ecuador used to look like adult bookstores on wheels. Now they look like tired Greyhounds. Fifteen years ago there was a bus depot, but really it was more of a starting gate from which one rushed out to load the appropriate bus entering through the main door, the emergency exit or the windows as necessary. Today one buys a ticket and enters the bus only through the main door. We thought this was our fare, but it turns out that the 90¢ was only to get through the door. Once on board, we still had a fee to pay. But unlike 15 years ago, it was the same fee for all. While much has changed, much has stayed the same, as we will see.

Our first stop was the indigenous market of Gualaceyo. This was marvelous! The different fruits and vegetables, herbs and flowers, meats and fresh cheeses were phenomenal. We bought The Kid a ½ pound of mora which is a type of raspberry and which he proceeded to eat throughout the day. Kept him quite, to say the least.

From there we went to Chordoleg, which is the jewelry center for the Cañari. 15 years ago the Canãri were wearing lots of freshwater pearl jewelry. Today it’s all silver filigree and it’s lovely. We did some shopping, some looking and then decided to go out to Sigsig even though it was ½ hour away.

In Sigsig there is a women’s cooperative that makes Panama hats (all Panama hats are from Ecuador, btw, not Panama). Ricardo really wanted to get a hat while we were there (not like he doesn’t have one, but still). So even though we were pretty tired, we went ahead and went on out there. But of course, the cooperative was only open Monday through Friday. And this was a Sunday.

So we decided to just go ahead and take the bus back. And this was where the fun truly started.

We found the bus station without problems and purchased tickets to board the bus back to Cuenca. Our tickets inexplicably had seat numbers on them. What a change!! Seat numbers?

We should have known. Because when we boarded the bus, there were no numbers for any of the seats. So finding your seat became a true challenge. Eventually we were able to find the two seats that did have numbers and extrapolate from there. But the lack of numbers led to conflict because the slightest miscount meant someone was sure you were in their seat.

Eventually we began on our journey. The bus was supposed to be an “express” to Gualaceyo. But “express” is a malleable word in Ecuador. Slowly but surely the aisles filled with people. And what people! There were the teenaged boys who kept rubbing up on the seats. Then the complete drunkard who spent a lot of time patting my hair until I switched seats with The Kid. Shortly thereafter, Ricardo’s seatmate got up at his stop and the drunk took the empty seat next to him and promptly passed out.

Before leaving Sigsig, many of the people on the bus bought something called “salchipapas.” This is a bowl of French fries with pieces of sausage on it drizzled in mayonnaise and aji (hot sauce). They looked delicious because we were so hungry (we’d not eaten since breakfast). In order to eat salchipapas, one uses a small forked toothpick.

Across the aisle from us was a family of four. Shortly into the trip, upon completing their salchipapas, the children fell asleep. While the drunk was busily patting my hair, the father of this family began to spelunk in his nose. And I mean this was some excavation! He tried every finger. I was getting ready to suggest his salchipapas fork when the baby woke up. She was adorable! Maybe 18 months old and full of smiles. I smiled at her, she smiled back. I waved at her, she waved back. And I wondered why she was lying the way she was on her mom’s lap.

Until the smell hit me like a mack truck. Mom was changing her diaper. On the bus.

I looked over and saw Ricardo begin to gag. I thought I was going to be sick. The stench produced in the 18 month old intestines by the ingestion of salchipapas was not to be believed! Ricardo opened his window. I surreptitiously opened the window of the people in front of me. And at that moment the family opened their window as well. I was so happy to see that they were worried about our olfactory nerves! And then my expression turned to one of horror when I saw the mom take the pungent diaper and hurl it out the window. I pity the people who came across that particular “dung bomb.” And so, our son had his first taste of a true Ecuadorian bus!

Cuenca, Ecuador

Cuenca, the most beautiful city in Ecuador? Possibly!

On our first day in Cuenca, we decided to wander around and do museums and the like. We went to the main squares, which were full of flowers and people. Unlike Quito, Cuenca is still oriented around their old downtown. So the main churches, squares, and meeting places have not changed in the 500 years the city has been around as a Spanish city.

And in fact, before it was Spanish, it was Cañari and Inca. The central square today preserves the orientation given to it by the Cañari. Originally, they had the city oriented by a series of canals set up from the river and following the equinoxes and the solstices. Even today there is a gap between the cathedral and the other buildings which relates to the Cañari orientation.

After a lovely stroll through the flower market, the churches and the squares, we headed to lunch at a place called Mama Kinua. This is a cooperative that benefits a local Cañari community. Lunch was $1.25 each and we had soup, chicken, beans and rice, and the most fabulous medicinal tea. We also found out about a program they run which takes people up to their community in the mountains outside the city. So we decided to do it the next day.

At 9 am the next morning we met Don Alphonso at Mama Kinua. He brought us and an Italian woman up to his property outside the city. Once there we were served a delicious breakfast of hard boiled eggs, mote, which is a native corn, bread and tea. While we ate, he explained where we’d be hiking to during the day. Then he and two of his grand children played music for us that he had written, both in Spanish and in Quichua which is the Incan language spoken by the Cañari. We then came out at a clearing that was a huaca for him and his family. A huaca is a sacred site that is alive with the spirit of Pachamama, the earth goddess. While here we joined him in a Cañari sun greeting and we were purified from any offense we might have caused Pachamama. We rested here and then climbed up a tower to look out at the countryside around.


He then took us up another trail and out onto the Inca trail. This is a road that connected Tomebamba (Cuenca’s Incan city from before the Spanish arrival) to Cusco. We walked along it for some time. There are a series of minerals in the ground that create the most fascinating different colors in the earth and the ground of the road.

From there we headed back through the forest towards one of his family’s rest cabins in the grassy fields. We rested and lay in the meadow until one of his daughters, his grand daughter, and another grandson came with lunch. We ate the most delicious lunch of mote, potatoes, peas, beans, carrots, rice and chicken, washed down with the Cañari tea. Ricardo took a short horseback ride with Don Alphonso’s granddaughter, while we rested and talked. We then were treated to a demonstration of spinning while some of the mote was being toasted for grinding. We were given a demonstration of grinding with a hand mill that Don Alphonso had had in his family from before anyone could remember. We were also invited to try the grinding, which was very difficult.

After the lunch, we hiked back through the forest and down the hills to their main house. We listened to more music, joined in some dancing, and then headed back into the city. It was a phenomenal experience.

Ecuador Part 1

I will start this series of posts with an apology of sorts. We had such an incredible time in Ecuador that I really think this needs to be done in a series, so that I can both process it and also so that I can upload the pictures to do it service.

On our first day in Ecuador, we had some time to kill in Guayaquil. Frankly, the few hours we spent there will probably do me for a lifetime. I’m sure there’s plenty to this port city I don’t know about, but given the events of this several hours, we had plenty.

We were joined on our journeys by a fabulous couple on the ship, Lisa and Tanya whom we really, really enjoy. It had been Lisa’s birthday the day before so they were off to Galapagos the next day and we were off to Cuenca later that night.

Tanya, like The Kid and I really wanted to check out this iguana park. It seems that iguanas like to be in this park. It’s not clear why they do, but this is absolutely their place to hang out, quite literally. They were everywhere. In the walkways, the grass, the trees, you name it. It was unbelievable. The Kid was astounded. He took a million pictures (actually these are all his except the ones of Ricardo).

It was a magical experience, until…

Let’s just say that Ricardo found out the hard way that one should not stand under a tree covered in iguanas, lest one find that you yourself become covered by an iguana. As luck would have it, iguana poop does not stain, but it is most certainly unpleasant to have it rain down upon you from a height. I’m not sure which part The Kid liked more, the iguanas or what they did to his father.

From there, we walked along the Malecon. This was a lovely festival marketplace type place. We had a very nice meal at a place just below the boardwalk, where I discovered this terrific English translation of Cream of Carrot soup, just for you Beth!

And then the real Ecuador began. You see, Ecuador has changed a lot in the last few years, but some things remain inscrutably Latin, and therefore, are mysterious at best. At school there is a saying that our school secretary is fond of, “Just don’t make no sense.” That basically sums up some parts of Ecuador.

Because you see when we got to the airport, we had no reservations for our flight to Cuenca. Why didn’t we have reservations? Because we were booked to Quito. Except we weren’t going to Quito. We were going to Cuenca. And this is all well and good, but I had an email with a freaking screen shot of our reservation to Cuenca. Where was this screen? Why had I not printed it out? Why had we spent a bundle to call Tame Airlines not once but twice to get this information? Why did their online site not work? Why could they not be helpful?

After about 25 minutes of waiting around, they finally were able to book us on the flight. We literally got the last three seats (I’m sure that someone just came really, really late and we got their seats). 30 minutes after the flight departed, we were in Cuenca, freezing our butts off. It was about 55 degrees and we’d been in ecuatorial heat for weeks. God it felt good!

We checked into our completely show-stoppingly gorgeous hotel, ate a fabulous dinner and prepared for our next day.

Stay tuned for the next day post!