Limnic Eruptions: Travel Blog

Lake Titicaca 05.16.08 – 05.19.08

2008-08-16T10:17:00.000-07:00

I hate to burst the geography bubble, but Lake Titicaca is not the highest lake in the world, nor is it the world’s highest navigable body of water (a made up superlative just for Lake Titicaca). Instead, it’s the second largest lake on the continent and happens to sit at the high altitude of 3,800 m/12,500 ft. The mystique of the lake doesn’t exist in measurements or quantifiers, but is rather nestled into its history, prominence in folklore, and beautiful shores encircled by Andean peaks and traditional indigenous villages.

Our base for exploring the area was Puno, which is a somewhat drab city despite its large traditional population, variety of folkloric celebrations, and proximity to the lake. On a brighter side the high altitude, thin air, and wintry lack of cloud cover created sun light that was shocking permeating and painfully hot while the aridity of the season meant the shade was shockinglierly (means more shocking, look it up) frigid.

I’ve made it clear in previous posts that I dislike tours and the people that take them, but that certainly doesn’t prevent me from indulging when I find it convenient and cost effective. Putting up with other tourists and the inability to choose my own schedule sucks, but this tour was el cheapo (actually I’m el cheapo). So we piled on the boat with the rest of the lot and pulled up to las islas flotantes (manmade islands created out of reeds) and some of the lake’s traditional islands.

Truthfully, I enjoyed the experience, we spent a night in the island of Amantani where we witnessed a seemingly untouched way of life and spent the night with a traditional family in their even more traditional home. The natural beauty of the island was noteworthy, but even more remarkable was the soccer induced collapse of my lungs from playing locals at over 4,000 m/13,100ft of elevation.

All in all Lake Titicaca was one of Peru’s true highlights for me, and although it may not warrant all the superlatives it more than makes up for it by the sheer hilarity of its name.

La Selva, Madre de Dios 05.12.08 - 05.15.08

2008-08-05T19:55:00.000-07:00

After Machu Picchu Rosa and I made our way back to Cuzco through the Sacred Valley which involved stops in a few of its towns and ruins. These stops included Ollantaytambo, Urubamba, and Pisac as well as several colorful festivals with all manner of dance and costume. The festivities were very geniune and a complete surprise, but we were still forced to rush back to Cuzco. Our rush was induced by a planned flight to a portion of the Amazon river basin located in the Madre de Dios region of Peru.

Flying from the Cuzco to Puerto Maldonado (capital of Madre de Dios) only takes around 30 minutes, but the differences between the dry mountain rimed highland valley of Cuzco and the flat swath of saturated green of the Amazon river basin couldn't be starker. We were greeted by a delightful slap of moist air as we stepped onto the tarmac, but the heat was a welcome change from bitter cold of the Andean nights we had just left.

Soon after arrival we found ourselves on a boat heading down river towards the Ecoamazonia Lodge, which turned out to be much more of a relaxing rainforest retreat than an intimidating lunge into the heart of the jungle. The lodge provided all of our meals, including lots of local cuisine (with plenty of vegetarian options), cute hut-like accommodations, and colorful birds lazily waddling around and squawking at passersby. We were also taken on hikes by a local guide and were able to see interesting wildlife, learn about loads of strange plants, climb into jungle canopies, and eat maggots (ok, that was just me, but it was delicious).

In the end even Rosa, who was scared to death of the bugs and the prospects of seeing an Anaconda, admitted that it was one of the most pleasantly relaxing places on our trip. After our time at the lodge things were a bit less relaxing however, as the temperature began to rise and a second outing involved a horrendously freighting, and assumably dangerous, canopy walk that was reminiscent of climbing a half-mile rope ladder. The end of our time in the jungle also spurred a confrontation with the local authorities when a local hotel owner in Puerto Maldonado called the cops on us...I don't really want to talk about it.

Machu Picchu 05.09.08

2008-06-22T16:30:00.002-07:00

The problem with Machu Picchu is that if you step into Peru you somehow become obligated to see these famed Incan ruins and the Peruvian tourist authorities are all too aware of this. This translates to the necessity of arranging every aspect of a visit ahead of time and for an inflated price to boot. For example, you have two options for reaching the ruins form Cuzco: 1. expensive train ride and 2. expensive trek, and both need to be arranged in advanced, have limited spaces, and sell out fast during the high season.

The hopes and dreams of many a South American tourist are focused on the well cute stones of the residences and temples in an unreal setting of cloud forests and sharp rocky peaks. Learning from past experiences with archaeological wonders I reasonably concluded that this once desolate mountain sanctuary would be overrun by bus groups, souvenir hawkers, and mounds of trash - I couldn´t wait!

Rosa and I selected `expensive train ride´ as our approach from Cuzco and it was in a word `hilarious´, and in several words - `a confirmation of Machu Picchu preconceptions.´ The train was filled with tourists all with a single destination, all dreaming of the time they could return home to their friends and families with a photo of them containing mountains, ruins, clouds, and llamas all in perfect symmetry (if they´re really lucky they might be giving the llama bunny ears or jumping in the air, that´ll make people jealous!). The ride was absurd and actually caused me to laugh some points. I don´t mean to offend anyone, but why would you film a train ride? I´m not talking about filming a few seconds of it, I mean the majority of the ride sitting with your camera haplessly focused out the window on passing trees and the like. Train rides are boring enough as they stand, is it somehow improved by viewing it in the comfort of your own living room?

After arriving in the access town it was only a matter of climbing 1,000s of steps to the top of the ruins. We arrived at the site´s entrance late enough in the day that all the tour groups had already gone. As the sun moved closer towards the horizon the sense of solitude continued to mount. And although I greatly enjoyed the scenery, flowers, completeness of the ruins, and random llamas, it was the sheer absence of people that brought a smile to my jaded face.

I too am playing into Machu Picchu hype by making an entire entry devoted to it but it really is an unreal location for ruins. I can admit that many of my preconceptions proved unfounded, and that it was a worthwhile, and expensive, experience - and even more importantly than my own appreciation of the site was that I snagged an epic photo of me looking like Indian Jones!

Cuzco 05.06.08 - 05.08.08, 05.11.08

2008-06-08T15:42:00.000-07:00

The spot that has rightfully been dubbed "the gringo capital of South America" has become that way for a reason...there are tons and tons and metric tons of wealthy white westerners, and maybe just maybe a slew of important cultural, artistic, and historical attractions - maybe. Cuzco was in many ways similar to Dubrovnik or Venice, beautiful cities with much to offer a visitor due to long histories as cultural centers, but their modern incarnations more closely resemble Pier 49 in San Francisco than their former glories.

From Lima it was a remarkably simple hour plane ride that culminated in what must be the most unequivocally touristy airport in South America, if not the world. It was a perfect example of how this area would differ from the rest of South America, gone was the ease of travel, the simplicity, and the low costs. In their places were tour operators a-hounding, and indigenous women with llamas a-requesting money for photos.

Despite my reservations about the the world´s navel I still enjoyed myself, although my trip to the emergency room brought on by variable freezing and burning fevers didn´t help (antibiotics are a way of life in South America). I´m a total geek when it comes to history so something about the clash between the Spanish and the indigenous empires of the Americas really makes me dork out. I´m also a fan of good international fare, and the San Blas area of the city had no lack of hip/delicious restaurants, or adorable winding cobblestoned passages for that matter.

Another highlight of the area was abusing the beautiful riparian valleys North of the city by white water rafting down the class III´s of the Urubamba River. The gorgeous setting and moderate trill of the rapids more than made up for my numb toes and the insanely annoying, spoiled, and juvenile gap yearers´ that were part of our team - can you imagine getting mad at the craft leader for yelling out commands while the boat´s going over rapids?

Steeped in history, with some really nice Incan stone work, and gosh darn beautiful, I guess I can´t blame people for wanting to come here, but I gave it a shot anyway.

Lima 05.02.08 - 05.05.08

2008-06-02T16:44:00.000-07:00

Lima is the type of city that takes time to find its high points and as such my first impressions were of a city that was somewhat chaotic, noisy, polluted, disorganized and yet historically interesting with accents of natural beauty. As you would expect, the three days that I spent there did not provide for complete insight - nor did they leave me with an overwhelmingly positive flavor of this sprawling capital.

Lima´s Plaza de Armas was the most attractive that I´d seen in South America, but something about gangs of tourists (the touristy variety no less) always seems to spoil the moment for me. You´re suddenly in a museum or amusement park, certainly not an exotic local that provides an inherent sense of discovery. It might be because I´m jaded or because I had a horrifically bad lunch, but the center just didn´t seem to have much to offer beyond its history of Spanish imperial rule with some neat catacombs and funny mannequins depicting victims of the Spanish Inquisition thrown in.

Miraflores and Barranco, Lima´s famed upscale suburbs, give the visitor a pleasant feeling in comparison to the crumbling buildings and pollution of el centro, but they lack true identity, and are instead generic amalgamations of western standards and Peruvian realities. Sure there are decent restaurants, green spaces, and some excessively expensive retail, but there was something missing - and it certainly wasn´t a mall built into the side of a ocean side cliff (Larcomar).

In summation, Lima´s no Mexico City in terms of culture, ruins, or cuisine, but it more than makes up for these vaguely important urban attractions in terms of its superior collection of erotic Incan pottery.

Huaraz and the Cordillera Blanca 04.29.08 - 05.01.08

2008-05-26T11:39:00.000-07:00

For me the phrase "idyllic mountain settings" once triggered images of valleys in the Swiss Alps, however after witnessing the Cordillera Blanca my mountain visualization reaction will remain forever altered. The Cordillera Blanca, or white range, is aptly named for the purity of its numerous summits, jetting up dramatically from the dry plain of Huascarán National Park. The area is famed for its boundless trekking and climbing opportunities and for the highest peaks of Peru, with many over 6,000m (Huascarán is 6,768m or 22,205ft).

We stayed in the regional capitol, Huaraz, which is not often likened to a picturesque town of Switzerland, but is rather thought of as a hectic Andean outdoor adventure mecca - complete with international restaurants and gobs of hostels. Despite the city´s somewhat aggressively gritty sensibilities, the mountains and communities that surround it remind you that the area is truly special. A short hike north of the city placed us in some intriguing indigenous communities that enjoyed a superfluity of political graffiti and clear views of startlingly austere peaks.

Unfortunately our scheduling didn´t permit us enough time for a proper trek in the region (if anyone is interested doing one at a later date you know where to reach me) and were thus relegated to entering the park for a single day. After a quick visit to the village of Yungay and an off-road taxi journey with three young Limeños we were able to visit the truly stunning lakes of LLanganuco and their truly stunning mountainous surroundings. Clear lakes, pastoral animals on green pastures, fertile streams, and waterfalls plummeting off the glaciated Yosemite-like walls of the valley made for a perfect foreground to the unreal peaks engulfing us.

On the return journey (combis + mountain roads = journey) from the National Park we decided to pay our respects to the worst natural disaster in modern Andean history. The current village of Yungay lays about a kilometer from Yungay Viejo, which was turned into a monstrously large cemetery/monument by the 1970 Anchash Earthquake and mudslide that buried the town and upwards of 25,000 residents. The former town is a starkly beautiful and yet tragic place - it´s appearance is that of a garden, funneling visitors and mourners towards the remaining church facade, which contains a hollowness that perfectly frames the serene destructiveness of the looming mountains.

Despite the tragedies, Huascaran is one of the few places in South America that has compelled me to return. A mere 8 hours north of Lima, it would be a mistake to come to Peru and neglect its most majestic settings.

Peru´s North Coast: Piura, Chiclayo, Trujillo

2008-05-23T20:02:00.000-07:00

Peru´s northern coast appeared to me as a world apart from Ecuador. Gone were the verdant mountains peering over deep valleys, and the rainy days that accompanied them and in their places were only sun, sand, ocean, and the occasional pre-Incan temple.

For all the reasons that I enjoyed this bleak desert, the most important stemmed from a tangible absence of international tourism which provided a variety of benefits for the lazy traveler, ie me. For starters, no reservations were needed - not for hotels or transportation, and certainly not for archaeological sites (stupid Cuzco). Additionally, the food was 100% Peruano/amazing/cheap. All of this acquainted a genuine feeling experience, and with very little expense to my patience.

Northern Peru, however, acquainted to more than just escaping Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts, it also provided the opportunity to explore archaeological sites and fantastic pre-Incan funerary objects. The Trujillo area proved to be truly spectacular in this respect, containing the world´s largest adobe city, Chan Chan, and the Huanca de la Luna with its colorful murals. The Chiclayo area´s sites also proved impressive, specifically the 20+ pyramids at Túcume and the wealth of lavish finds from ¨Our Lord of Sipan´s¨ tomb, located in the museum of Lambayeque .

The joys of local transportation abounded in these northern cities, where I appreciated the exhilaration of riding in some of the ubiquitous mototaxis (a motorcycle hitched with a rickshaw) and combis (a van overflowing with people and live chickens, including an assistant yelling at passerbys, and stopping to pick up anyone with $.30 and a desire to be herded like cattle). Sure this variety of transport meant crowed, cramped, smelly, and dangerous conditions, but for me it was a breath of fresh air.

Trujillo´s modern charms also shined as a highlight of the region, with a warm colonial air, fine dinning, bohemian cafes, and the nearby surfing town of Huanchaco. Huanchaco is famed for its oddly shaped kayaks, known as caballitos de torora, and its layedback atmosphere. There was also this dog, so cute...were I you I would not miss it, it caught things...

...I´m going to stop myself here because I´m running out of adjectives and am honestly finding it difficult to be sarcastic about the area.

On Ecuador and the Border Crossing

2008-05-14T14:49:00.000-07:00

I wanted to sum up what I thought about Ecuador (after being in a place for 2 weeks I'm an expert, ok?), and have decided to do so by using an allegory (more like a list of comparisons) from our experience crossing the border to Peru.

We knew from the get go that the bus ride that day was to be a long one. Vilcabamba, Ecuador to Piura, Peru was at least a 9 hour journey, but at least we knew that the bus going straight across the border, making the customs formalities and currency issues more simple.

Comparison: Seemingly simple and later becomes complex.

One bus change was needed in Loja, Ecuador and we were lucky because the one we wanted to Piura was leaving shortly after arrived. Our luck was a double edged sword of timeliness because the bus wasn't leaving from a terminal, but was instead waiting in a random street somewhere in what was probably a completely separate city. Rosa became our savior and her language abilities got us onto a speedy taxi that knew where we were going.

Comparison: A situation that is seemingly difficult and annoying is easily solved by an odd infrastructure and affordable transportation.

After securing our seats on the Piura bound bus we were confident in an early arrival. This sense of accomplishment, however, waned when we came to a dead stop 20 minutes before the Peruvian border town of Mancara. If you guessed landslide then you've been to Ecuador during the rainy season, or perhaps you´ve actually been reading this blog (either way I'm suspect of your motives and I´m watching you). It took hours and hours and more hours before they were able to get a bulldozer to come smash the thing up - no women in felt hats were going to be digging us out of this one. At least the hillside views kept us company.

Comparison: Landslides, long waits, and amazing beauty.

Well, it took soooooo very long to pass the impassible pass, that the bus driver decided that he was too tired and wanted to go home, instead of taking us to the destination our tickets claimed. He dropped us off in the vicinity of the border, a few hours after dark, and we were on our own from there. Luckily a series of events unfolded, involving various peoples and modes of transportation (I remember a llama or some other camelid playing an important role) we made it into Peru and into some teenager´s car. Our driver had apparently crossed the border in search of cheap gas, and was nice enough to drop us off in our hotel which was 2 hours away (driving near the sound barrier).

Comparison: Again the situation seemed difficult and annoying and was easily solved by an odd infrastructure and affordable transportation, but this time there were odd animals and driving really really really fast ta boot!

Can´t you just feel the Ecuadorianness in those comparisons? I know I could.

Vilcabamba 04.19.08 - 04.21.08

2008-04-30T18:52:00.000-07:00

Ahh Vilcabamba, the valley of longevity, and our last major destination in Ecuador. With it I´ve noticed a trend in Ecuadorian tourist destinations: Small town nestled into a green valley, surrounded by mountains and rolling hills, with heaps of vegetarian eateries, and ample opportunities for day excursions and inexpensive massages. I couldn´t wait to leave.

Rosa and I decided to spoil ourselves by staying at Izhcayluma, a hotel lodgish place, perched on a hill overlooking the town. A wonderful place if you´re in the neighborhood, offering up hiking maps and resort style services - best part was definitely the enormous chess board.

The first day in town was spent galloping on horseback up surprisingly steep and forested terrain, with many a large spider, thorny brush, and poorly located cliff. Despite the trials of the trails, the saddle sores, and Rosa falling off the horse (that part was less than idyllic) it was an exhilarating and beautiful experience.

The following day we were sore from the ride but decided to explore one of the numerous hiking trails that had been created and marked by our hotel. The hike was interesting, gorgeous all while being delightfully straight forward. This is why we were surprised when we realized that we had taken a wrong turn and were an hour or so into our mishap. Our merry three hour hike quickly turned into a six hour fight against dehydration and overexposure, but at least the stunning views and giant spiders kept us company.

Note to self: Take a left at the water tanks.

Baños y Cuenca 04.14.08 - 04.18.08

2008-04-24T19:43:00.000-07:00

Baños as a town is a bit like Disneyland, it´s not that it´s full of antiquated cartoon characters and rides that are only appealing to children and people on psychedelic mushrooms – it´s more that it´s overly touristy and has a cathedral that lights up like the palace at night. Although, the natural splendor of Baños is a bit more bountiful, and the town that surrounds it has a far greater concentration of Ecuadorians than Orange County.

Unfortunately our time in Baños wasn´t spent doing the outdoorsy adventure riddled stuff that it´s known for (white water rafting and canyon jumping), as I was still in recovery from my earlier love affair with food poisoning – I´m sure the mountain bike trip to the numerous cascading waterfalls would have been fun if I could have stomached it. I did see the zoo though, which is like the same thing as biking through waterfalls, basically, almost as good, possibly better (there were animals there).

After a couple of days in Disneyland we moved on to cobblestonedier pastures in the form of the colonial city of Cuenca, the third largest in Ecuador. The city seemed fairly reminiscent of central Mexico, and turned out to be one of the nicest experiences we had in Ecuador. I personally enjoyed it because it was more European and had a greater degree of vegetarian options than other Ecuadorian cities, Rosa alternatively appreciated the gelato and giant fruit cocktails. We´re still arguing about which of these aspects truly defined the city.

Travel Sick 04.12.08 – 04.13.08

2008-04-23T10:56:00.000-07:00

So you may have noticed that I´ve been slow to post photos with my blog entries. This is in part due to laziness and unavailability of reliable computers, however, another more pressing reason is that before uploading or saving any photos from my dSLR I managed to lose all of the photos I had taken with it. It was a full 2gig memory card of approximately 300 photos from the first week of the trip, and it managed to slip itself (I was clearly at no fault here) out of a pocket that I had forgotten to zip. If it´s any consolation, the photos would have wowed and amazed you, probably some of the most gifted photography that you´ll never see.

The discovery of the missing memory card struck me immediately upon our return to Latacunga. I was a bit upset at the loss, but was mostly happy to be alive after our transportation mishaps of the early morning. We made about our merry ways after returning to civilization, and celebrated the marvels of modernity by going out to dinner and taking hot showers.

I felt wonderful as I turned in for the evening…unfortunately that feeling lasted for all of two hours. I spent the majority of the night and the remainder of the following day dealing with food poisoning brought on by our dinner of civilization. If your name is Matt Kanter then I´m assuming that you´re less than surprised.

Ahhh, the wonders and mysteries of Global South dinning.

Quilotoa Loop Part 2 04.12.08

2008-04-21T16:08:00.000-07:00

The morning of Saturday the 12th of April, I awoke at 2am to the crashing of thunder and the falling of immense quantities of rain. I remained awake for the next two hours, hoping the rain would subside before our 4am bus departure to Quilotoa, the next town over. The two towns were close enough, at 22k, but I had been informed that the single road used to access them was the curviest, most mountainous, and least paved (take that as you will) that I would encounter in my entire time in South America. This was a frightening proposition, especially knowing that the current rain would have caused and be in the process of causing landslides - lots and lots of road clodding, mud spreading, bus flipping landslides. I asked Rosa if she might prefer to hike between the two towns, and she replied that she didn´t want to carry her pack – I conceded that my bag was also heavy, and so we boldly proceeded, out into the foreboding rainy darkness.

At 4:15am we were just outside of Chugchilan (our point of departure) and our bus suddenly came to a gurglingly sticky stop – it became apparent that we were caught in one of the above mentioned landslides. Outside of our heavily leaning bus, the morning was silent save for our German friend yelling at the campesinos in his Bavarian accent and for the clinking of metal as the local passengers in felt hats began grabbing shovels and hoes to dig us out.

The few hours before dawn saw little slowing in rainfall, however, they were witness to the beautiful sight of a community banding together - even for something so simple as getting a bus out of the mud. It was amazing to think that these farmers were only going through this concerted effort to sell some agricultural goods, and that they easily could have walked a few minutes to town, where they could wait patiently for the following Saturday.

With piles of rocks, wood, and man power the bus was eventually dragged out of the mud (only four hours after the ordeal had begun!) and in an instant we were all back on board, and heading (frighteningly speedily) in the direction of Quilotoa.

The remainder of the time on board my emotions ranged from that of fun, exhilaration, and admiration (both for the sheer beauty of the place and the driver´s ability to negotiate turns), to complete terror and ultimately to “let´s just get out and walk.” So Rosa, the Aussie we had met the previous evening, and I decided to do just that. The decision was spurred after a particularly close-to-falling-off-of-the-cliff sort of instance. For you see, over the course of the ride the bus had found itself stuck four additional times after the initial event, and each instance had been caused by a fierce landslide or river and was compounded by the horrific `can´t be late for the market´ driving style employed by our chauffeur.

Quilotoa Loop Part 1 04.09.08 – 04.11.08

2008-04-15T09:00:00.000-07:00

A few days after arriving in Quito it was time to move on to green pastures, so after spending a brief evening in the town of Latacunga, Rosa and I began our journey to a group of indigenous villages known to many a backpacker as the “Quilotoa Loop.” Our endeavors began with the famed indigenous market of Saquisili, but it was not until further afield that we would learn the true nature of the beast.

The towns on the loop were rural and the farmlands clung most precariously to what were effectively cliffs. Although a marginal amount of tourism existed in the area, it had not yet managed to influence the humble nature of these mountain communities and the villagers that inhabited them.

After viewing a few pueblitos along the trail, Rosa and I came to Chugchilan, which looked out onto a gorgeously green gargantuan gorge (it was actually more of a river valley, but I hate to spoil alliteration). We decided to stay in the Chugchilan a day longer than planned, as to afford us the opportunity of taking a bus to the next town of Quilotoa instead of opting for the alternative 22k trek to the same destination. The trek had actually become the safest means of passage between the two towns after a number of recent landslides brought on by torrential rains and a small earthquake had made the dirt road linking the two a bit hazardous. Despite my reservations about taking a marginal bus over marginal roads, I was repeatably assured that the journey was possible, and only marginally terrifying – thus our brilliant plan was set.

We spent the day hiking around Chugchilan, and it was both idyllic and serene. The only sounds that would occasionally permeate the silence of the clouds was that of the solitary farmer´s hoe, the baaing of a herd of sheep, or the inclement packs of rabid dogs (which only reluctantly backed away after being threatened by large sticks and rocks). Every view was a panorama, and every hill revealed a new dreamlike landscape with more unicorns than you can shake a rabid stick at.

Quito 04.06.08 – 04.09.08

2008-04-13T12:42:00.000-07:00

The first destination in South America for Rosa and myself was Quito, and although it wasn´t the most interesting city I´ve been to, it was my first in the Southern Hemisphere, and thus by default, the best! The city is situated in a truly gorgeous valley, sandwiched between some of the highest, most verdant mountains that I´ve been privileged enough to see.

Our hostel was located in the backpackers ghetto euphemistically referred to as the ¨New Town.¨ There, my fears of having to eat meat were ill-founded. I was able to secure a steady supply of Italian-Asian-fusion vegetarian fare, and wasn´t at all obligated to sample any local cuisine - because who want´s to try new things? Additionally, New Town is both dangerous, and void of local culture, but what it lacks in these areas it more then makes up for in terms of its truly extraordinary population of hippies (it´s like Arcata meets the global south), so it mostly balances out.

“Old Town” Quito, on the other hand, is exactly what you´d expect of an Andean guerilla city. It´s loud, crowded, dirty, polluted, and crawling with indigenous people and Spanish Colonial architecture – in short – a lot more interesting, and dare I say, more authentic than New Town.

The main touristy activity we engaged in was a Gondola ride, known as the TeleferiQo, which rockets its occupants up to a foreboding volcano, which sits, watching over the city at an altitude of around 13,000 ft (Mt. Whitney weighs in at around 14,500 ft.). The $4 ride gives you the opportunity for hiking with the added bonus of feeling your heart beating out of your chest with each advancing step – highly recommended. The other touristy activity was a day trip to Ecuador´s finest hot springs in Papallacta. The Andean setting was both epic and calming, and the food was delectable - having the whole place to ourselves didn´t hurt either. I would imagine that at the end of Rosa´s seven weeks in South America, these hot springs may out rank Machu Picchu as being her favorite activity.

In summation, Quito seemed like a nice enough place to start a journey, but I still came away with the yearning to see and to experience the Andean country I had so recently read about in my travel guide…