The Grand Frontier and Beyond: Part 2

Entering into Montañitas was probably not my best seller as a traveling composition... decision. It is a what many consider a sort of babylonia if not settle in the right hands. It`s the United State`s Las Vegas, Peru`s Cusco, Argentina`s Buenos Aires with international companionship and what happens in Montañita stays there... ideally. It was Lucas` birthday and this was what he asked for. The boys spent a good deal of the time entertaining themselves in the discos or on the beach where big bonfires lined the ocean shore and people with various nationalities from all over the world would gather around drinking and singing until well into the waking hours. If one is too careless it could give a nasty sting that being physical, emotional and/or economical. I took my precautions as I had previously become acquainted with the tiny surf town but even as such it was a loss in all retrospects with my display being run over by a bemused soda vendor in a large white pickup whilst the other boys were thouroughly seduced by the neverending allure of montañita nights. We left empty pocketed but hopeful, as it seemed that when things went down they most often came back up to heads. We ended up the coast up to Manta with the Germans still at our sides and eager to see what was next to rise up from the midsts.

We arrived in Manta late in the night and decided that our best bet was to find a hotel and we started heading in the directions given to us by some of the taxi drivers at the terminal. It was cheap, in every aspect and one room had a huge window which gave access to anyone that gave way to such an opportunity as to jump up a floor and enter into the room. We decided against. Leaving the haggard hostel we headed back to the malicon and walked a few kilometros until finally we found a taxi that took us to our last alternative which ended up being the best with the price raising only a few dollars for the whole heap of us. I believe it was $20 for the four and it included a private bathroom, two beds, AC, TV, cable and an unkept pool on the top of the roof. We agreed to stay for the night and used the following day to get to know Manta, a town with a bit less than 200,000 inhabitants. We met a fellow juggler named Kique. A loner maybe since a tike but strangely open and quite the considerate chap finding us a nice hot meal for the night free of charge. He gave Seba rubber from a car tire so that he could start practicing stick which is where the juggler lances a stick about half a meter or more in size with two smaller sticks, one in each hand. It becomes a sort of dance between the three pieces and the rubber helps the sticks to resist any inevitable contact with the ground. It was supposedly time for the crew to take a split down the center and the two germans admitted that they were to begin their travels south as we had our sights well set towards the north. As a parting gift the two invited Robert, Seba, Kique and I to a scrumptious meal of our liking on the beach. We each indulged in our choice a la carta and drank our share in beer, coca-cola and I suppose there was more beer and somehow or other the two began discussing ever so meticulously in german. Suddenly they turned to us and stating they too fancied the idea of continuing north and yet once again we set sail north until we Bahia de Caraquez.

Bahia de Caraquez was absolutely nothing like what we expected, just one of the many travel guide tourist traps that one falls into unwittingly. It was expensive, dirty and the people seemed closed and unpleasant. We decided that really we would rather take our chances setting up tent in the plaza seeing as it was fairly low key and there were people patroling throughout the night than to come out with some kind of disease or infestation from the hostal rooms. As the germans were quite notatorious for their fondness to the bottle, they arrived with happy faces and what seemed to be a two liter bottle of 'El Abuelito' rum and maybe a three liter bottle of Coca-cola. I took part in the first two rounds but was tired and ready for bed leaving the boys to their evening entertainment. The next day we took a boat to the other side of the river in order to get to Canoa, our next stop on the 'ruta del sol'. We split ways for the arrival as Malte and Lucas had a hankering to splurge on a mototaxi to Canoa while we had nothing to splurge and decide on the more economic means.... bus.

We arrived to Conoa a bit tired and the boys a wee hungover but none the less vehement on gettting to know Canoa. It was a rustic town made up of cabañas, palm trees and hamocks and consists of maybe a 20 block radius in the entire pueblito. Id say it was one of my favorite spots in the ¨ruta del sol¨ though sales were slow. We made ceviches, steamed fish in tin foil covered in butter and spices with a giagantic salad that survived the night. It was delicious and a great end to our adventures with Malte and Lucas as it seemed it was time for us to say our goodbyes and they split town just after dawn. We stayed a few more days cooking feasts which wasnt at all strenous considering the enormous amount of fish that came in from the coast. A couple of our new compañeras de casa headed out with one of the local fisherman to attempt their first experience fishing in the ocean. They brought back maybe 5 Kilos of fish and other seafood. Lenguado, which is a fish that appears flat like a pancake and has both eyes on only one side; squid; oyesters, etc. The girls explained that they caught quite a few sharks and sea horses as well that were intwined in the nets. Once again we created a centerfold of food and went to bed early... every single one of us wih extra full bellies. Reaching the weekend we had to conclude our stay in Canoa and we gave ourselves one heck of a going away party with what they ¨Uña de la gran bestia" which was a mixed of herbs (ya tu sabes) and coca so you can imagine the effects. I was the first to be taken out and made my way to my tent and as usual the boys resisted more than I though I think everyone went a bit nutty. We made amazing friends in Canoa and some still seem to travel with us as treasured memories. We left Canoa nostalgic but coherent of our destiny and what was to continue. Next stop.... Mompiche.

Mompiche was not any easy task and we had to take three buses just to arrive with little or no money BUT... we arrived. It was one of the most beautiful beaches I had seen yet in my journeys. It was a combination of jungle hugging ever so tightly the white and black sands that led into the ocean. Coconuts, bananas, pita, almonds and much more were in plenty and took little effort to take a few off the chakra. When we arrived the sun was in its last stages and we had little time to look for a spot to set up tent. Luckily we met two fellow foreignors that offered us a sector of their cabaña. Ron from Chicago, Uma from Russia and their tiny furball yogi. We relaxed with a cold beer that Ron had offered us and ate some leftover peppers rellenos which werent half bad. The following day they had to move to another cabaña but offered us another night in their new cabaña which was double the size and had a spare room with three beds but it wasnt free. they wanted a pair of leather sandals that El Roberto made in exchange. Not one of his sandals fit Uma and the exchange began seeming too costly to continue though it was already signed and to back out would have been quite uncomfortable for us all. In the end we attempted to remake a pair but we didnt have the time and our ganas had diminished quite drastically. There was problems with the owner of the house and though the attendants were incredibly generous the owner and manager were niether of the sort. Avoiding any further problems we decided to search for another place and the the couple that was taking care of Uma and Ron`s cabaña had spoken to another attendant and he offered us shelter for the tents, a grill to cook and even a bathroom with a shower. Not a bad trade and sincerely good people. We stayed maybe less than a week in total and headed out to Atacames.

In Atacames we stayed only the day trying to sell some jewlery for our pasage to Quito. It wasnt easy and the majority of the day we spent walking the beach and setting up our display at one of the local resaurants/discos. I believe we make just enough to get to Quito with a bit to spare on bread and tuna. Leaving Atacames we spent the night trying to sleep for it was our transportation and hostal for the night. Around 7 in the morning we arrived to a large bus terminal with two floors. We found our tickets and walked out the doors looking for the bus that said "Otavalo."

It was a long trip mainly due to Quito. It was huge and the bus stopped at almost every corner to pick up more passengers. It took us two hours just to get out of Quito and another two or three hours to reach Otavalo. In Otavalo we took our first few steps still pulgosos and exhausted from the 20 some hours in a bus and went straight for our luggage. As the bus pulled away Seba jumps up suddenly running for the bus door. He goes rummaging throught the above luggage racks and after 5 or 6 minutes detaining the bus his speed slows and he deboards the bus with his lip almost dragging on the ground. It turns out he had absent-mindedly left his fanny pack somewhere on the bus which contained his camera, cell phone and other important odd sorts. It was some kind of bitter sweet because though it hurt to lose such things one never leaves their baggage above especially leaving Quito. It was a tough lesson but one nonetheless essential for traveling purposes. From there we began heading down the colonial Otovalan streets as a cold moist breeze hit our face. We were hungry and ready to drop our packs before trying to set up shop and just as our bellies set stage for their grand show we walked right smack into the local market. We started to search the isle for some cheap food and found a bag full of legumbres and a peanut sauce that was not all that bad. For 50 cents you cant ask for much more. We ran into the owner of ¨La Casa de Che¨who gave us some beta on where to sell and how to get to his house which was only a few minutes from the waterfall. We agreed not knowing that this last stretch of time in Ecuador would be the coldest and most challenging concluding chapter together as a trio.