The Grand Frontier and Beyond: Ecuador: Part 1

As always time seems to slip by and conecting to the great web of internet mush seems to grow harder and harder. Seeing as a few 3 or 4 months have passed by since I was able to tell my tall tales of south america, I will have to start with my border crossing between Peru and Ecuador. I spent a good 3 1/2 months with my britches stitched to Cerro Azul with the help of Andrecito, one of my friends whom I met back in 2009 in Cusco, Peru. After finally cutting a few of the strings that held me captive I once again stepped out with two great leaps and finally leaving Peru with an expired visa a nice fine of around $20. I had, for the first time, a direct offer to prostitute myself instead of paying the fine by a slimy taxista of whom I left with a nice verbal hand slap before taking out my $20 and bording my bus. Arriving to Guayaquil I took the very next bus straight to Montanita avoiding any wasted second in one of the most dangerous cities in all of Ecuador. When I arrived to Montanita ran into one of my old trekking pals I had met back in the Torres del Paine, Patagonia, Chile. Seba had been traveling with a fellow companero chileno, Nico, since last January and had all the ganas in the world to keep the trip going though funds were low and time was short. Montanita is a place where one can make lots of money but at the same time lose it really before it even enters the wallet. Between selling sandwiches on the beach and jewlery on the street we tried our best to keep our heads above water. A fellow artisan, Joseph or aka Iquitos, offered us a tiny terreno with a bamboo hut lacking in the essentials like a bathroom and for a short period any running water. We were a pack of seven: Martin (Argentino); Luis, aka Tortuga, Iquitos and Roberto (Peruanos); Nico and Seba (Chilenos) and little old me. One night a spanish amiga came running screaming something about a Tsunami that was about to hit the coast but knowing her and her persona shall we say I rolled over and fell back into a deep sleep. In the morning the town seemed vacant and we slowly crept out asking for a bit of news. Unfortunately we learned that Japan had been hit by an enormous Tsunami and that it was suposedly heading this way. We decided that the best idea would be to get the heck out of Dodge and we hitched our way to Dos Mangas, maybe a half hour into the jungle.

Martin and Robert discovered a few routes days prior and appeared to be our tour guides up to the waterfalls. Passing by a medley of exotic fruit we hiked a few hours up and found ourselves in Paradise. We broke throught the jungle with a borrowed machete and began seeing waterfalls, natural baths, monkeys, exotic birds and extremely thick vegetation. We took turns jumping into the baths and each one trying to outdo the other. A few hours before sunset we headed up some quite steep bamboo stairways until reaching a cabana practically in the middle of nowhere. Martin attempted to make papa fritas using almost an entire bottle of veggie oil but in the end it turned into some kind of mashed potato with oil aggregation forming in the center. It wasn't the most tempting dinner I have ever eaten but with a hungry belly anything is possible. We started making our way back as we heard the deep bellows of monkey echoing above the trees. We made it back to Dos Mangas but it was late and there was no camionetas to be seen. We had no other choise but to pay double so that we could return Montanita and upon returning we realized that the Tsunami alert was still in affect. Each time they said it was ending another hour was added and we decided to take the risk of setting up tent so we could rest our tired bones.

Nico had to return to Chile to finish his degree and seeing as Seba really had no other reason to return aside from some very light pockets, he decided to tag along for a bit testing out the life of a mochilero. I began my ecuadorian adventure with one chileno patagonico and a young Peruvian. Making an obligated connection to Gauyaquil we spent almost the entire day searching for brasillian waxed string before heading east to Riobamba.

We arrived to Riobamba and found out that it wasnt such a tiny town with a population around 200,000. More or less rustic and a bit dirty we shuffled through the town getting to know the hot spots where the sales flowed a bit more. We had a contact that made amazonian hand-carved tagua pipes and we bought up as many as the resale was almost triple the price. The following day we headed to a small fair in Chambo maybe 20 minutes from Riobamba where we had our first encounter with a magic-name-bracelet-making machine and spit our bracelets by the second for 50 cents. To say the least we hadnt made much money that day. Seeing that we had spent enough days in Riobamba we headed to Banos to take advantage of the weekend being such a tourist town.

Arriving on a Friday to Banos we took up our first few hours searching for a cheap hospedaje which seemed slim to nil. We pealed off our backpacks and rested a bit before starting the big jewlery production of which was imminent considering we had maybe 20 bracelets between us three. Not much happened until the following day when we spent the whole night selling to a mountain of gringos that simply handed us money in exchange for a few bracelets. We were blessed. A few of them began talking about why they were there and what they had planned for their lives. In the end one of them, Joshua, gave me $25 so that I could go with them that Sunday repelling down waterfalls. He doubted my arrival obviously due to the lack of familiarity but I appeared bright and early and seemingly much more alert then the rest due to their excess in alcohol the prior night. We headed out fully dressed in wet suits and helmets enjoying the breeze in the back of truck. we arrived at a bridge and disembarked. Hiking only a few minutes we arrived at a series waterfalls gushing down. The actual first repels weren't very exciting until the finale which was a 70 meter drop with water beating down turning into light mist at the bottom. I was first to go and with a big grin decended down in around 5 seconds enjoying the brief adrenaline rush pumping in my chest and the brisk water hitting my face. We returned to the hostel and I met up with two germans, Malte and Lucas, whom I had met the night before. They took out one of their travel guides and we indulged ourselves in conversations over the amazonian jungle. They lent me the book with the promise of returning it the following day. I arrived around noon the previous with Seba and Roberto and within an hour we became traveling buddies heading out on an adventure further into the jungle; the first stop being a waterfall called el Pailon del diablo which was another massive waterfall around 90 meters. We ran up and down it like kids playing in the rain as the mist soaked us from head to toe. That night we had met a colmbian woman and she offered us her patio to set up our tents but in the end it began to rain and she referred us to a small basketball/soccer court with an enormous roof and numerous children running around. We armed our tents and started on a nice dinner of guacamole and bread as the kids ambushed us playing in the tents and shouting "Guacamole, guacamoleeee." Lucas was a nanny in Germany and an outstanding playmate. He jumped around chasing the kids and in the end we were all involved. After a few hours we had to send them home though it was obviously contradictory to what they wanted. It didnt matter, we had our fill and were extremely exhausted. The following day we paid a taxi driver so that we could make it to San Jose where we had heard of another enormous waterfall hidden even deeper in the jungle. The taxi driver was either daft or drunk and began making circles around the dirt trails. He was completely and obviously lost though too proud to admit it and we were not ready to waste any more time. We told him to go to San Jose and he had the nerve to try and charge us more which was out of the question. We sent him packing without a cent more. When we arrived we began looking for a place we could set up camp and the boys came back with extremely good news. We were able to sleep on the second flour of the community center but it would be free for another couple hours. The boys took off to try their luck at a bit of fishing which didn't seem to provoke much interest and I decided to stay upstairs taking a tiny siestita. Upon returning I saw Seba covered in mud leading almost up to his waist. Not extremely suprising that it would be Seba to fall in the mud I began looking at the pictures that seemed to explain everything. We headed down to the local store to see what we could eat for the night hoping that we would also find a place to make a bonfire because bread and guacamole just doesn't cut it. I had previously spoken to the couple who had recently returned from the states and were quite generous. They allowed us to use their grill and we cooked up a nice feast that lead well into breakfast. In the morning we awoke nice and amply hungry taking the remainder of our dinner with pleasure. We were told by one of the locals and fellow community center workers that he would take us up to the waterfall when we were up for it.. which of course we were. We started trekking down a thick , gravel road and took a hard left and little by little the trails became smaller and smaller and it seemed that the jungle was encroaching on the little space that was left. I soon realized how quickly one could come out covered it thick brown mud. We were all sliding and slipping up and down the trail that our guide had been cutting with his machete. If it werent for him I believe we would still be lost in the jungle of San Jose. After maybe a good two hours of bug biting and mud slides we arrived at our destination. A waterfall reaching around 90 meters. We ripped off our drenched clothes and started making our way to the waterfall. The mist was heavy and cold and with each gust would take my breath away literally. As I slowly began approaching the beast I realized that it was not something to take lightly and if one came too close they would surely be beaten alive though I did venture a good deal out while the boys stayed behind weary of its alluring power. The return was non the lighter and I believe Seba fell belly first into the mud with a nice face -plant finish. He is awfully good for a laugh whether he means to or not. Upon arriving we shed off our clothes and put on what may or not have been semi-clean/dry alternate. I suppose I was the dud of the group and fell asleep after a few minutes while the boys stayed up playing cards. The following day was our adieu and we headed our to our next objective.. Tena and then Puerto Misaulli
This time we decided to hitch our way down seeing that traffic was entirely native farmers who traveled between towns selling fruit and we needed to save the little money that remained from Banos. We arrived at Tena really looking for a place to set camp, sell a bit in the streets and finally write my family at the internet cafe so they knew I was still alive and extremely well. We found ourselves another court almost identical to the one in El Pailon del Diablo filled with kids running around and causing mischief.... just like us. We joined in a game of soccer though sadly Lucas' had forgotten about his miniscus and strained it again creating a quite the predicament. For the following two weeks he was limping around and was a bit of the odd-man-out considering his lingering injury. Upon arriving to Puerto Misaulli we hurried to find a place to set up camp considering that it was raining and we were beat from the travels. We set up tent, ate and sent ourselves to bed at quite the early hour. The following day we feasted on the remains of our dinner when out of nowhere a band of monkeys arrived shouting and screaming while slipping down and stealing our bread and lighter. It was both entertaining and quite bothersome at the same time. There were a few that seemed laid back and others that appeared to be the deliquents of the group terrorizing everyone and everything. Sadly we hadnt the time to continue our journey and later that day began our return south. We headed back to Baños, gorging ourselves with our famous feasts... homemade oregano bread, omlets, fruit salads with yogurt and maca and much, much more. In Riobamba we decided to stay with a Malte´s friend creating once again a enormous meal for 10 but this time the main course was Cuy also know as Hamster. As brave as Id like to thing of myself I simply could not swallow the cuy. As it reach the crevass of my mouth I realized that I wasnt kidding anyone, pulled the pink, greasy meat away and generously gave my share to the boys. From Riobamba we somehow and unwittingly ended up in Montanita once again; Babalonia all over again.....