So in the last post, I was still waiting at JFK for my onward flight to Guayaquil. Well, I’m happy to report, I finally caught it. Though it was a little surreal, and set off my anxiety, which would impact me for a few days after. Clearly, I was the only gringo on the flight, and also the only one that was checking in a single bag. Everyone else seemed to have a convoy of trolleys packed full of suitcases. The flight itself was unnerving, I sat next to an older Ecuadorian woman, who kindly knocked over my cup of peach juice all over my pants, and kept pushing me into the aisle after we landed. Oh, and upon landing, everyone clapped. It’s as if it’s a miracle the plan landed safely. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if it didn’t, it seemed like the whole place was held together with copious amounts of duct tape and sealant. I got into a bit of a tiff with some asshole who was getting super aggro about me bumping in to him while we were waiting to disembark. I tried to explain that the old lady wouldn’t stop pushing me, but I’m pretty sure he was swearing me out in Spanish. That’s when the anxiety started kicking in. I just wanted to get to the final destination.

I finally arrived at my hostel in Quito around 8am, Wednesday, Perth time. 48 hours after I left Perth. Needless to say, I was beyond exhausted. Initial plans to have a shower and hit bed early were a little off, I dropped my bags next to my bunk, and promptly fell asleep. I slept for a good 10 hours before getting up for a US$3 breakfast at the hostel, then proceeded to have another 2 hour nap. 
By the time I got up the first time, I could feel my anxiety getting the better of me. I’m not going to lie, a part of me was a little ready to go home. I missed my bed, and when my anxiety hits, I really miss Frankie. I was a little scared of all the horror stories about how Quito is pretty dangerous, and I was just tired, I didn’t want to get up an explore. After the nap, I forced myself to get up and check out the travel agency connected to the hostel to see what tours were on offer. I was pretty keen to hit the Otavalo markets, and to check out the Equator. Turns out, I was able to squeeze in the Equator tour later that afternoon, and signed up for the Quilotoa crater lake hike for Thursday. 

The nerd in me LOVED the Equator tour. Apparently there’s 2 museums dedicated to the Equator, one has a massive monument people usually take photos at, but turns out, that’s a false equator line. We went to the real one, measured out by military GPS, and also the location the Indigenous people had figured out was the real middle hundreds of years ago. I got an obliglatory photo of myself standing in both hemispheres and did a couple of experiments to show the effect of being on the equator. One of which was the cliche balancing of an egg on the head of a nail, and also how water goes straight down the sink instead of experiencing the Coriolis effect. It was pretty cool to see that moving the sink barely a metre from the equator line can have a difference, and the Coriolis effect will kick in. I also learnt a little about the Indigenous people, and their way of life, which some still follow, and of course, about Ecuadorian cacao. The raw cacao pulp surrounding the seeds straight from the fruit tasted a little like mangosteens.

The weather was originally a little meh, the sun was hiding behind some ominous looking clouds, but luckily they cleared up so I decided to get dropped off at the cable car to the highest point in Quito city with an Aussie couple, an American guy, and a guy from Belgium who were also on tour with me. The view from the top was spectacular, it was also cold as fuck. Something that’s really surprised me about Quito is the prolific forests of gumtrees EVERYWHERE. Legit, Australian gum trees. Turns out, they were introduced back in 1890s (I think) to be used in the construction of the railway line between Quito and Guayaquil. They’d since spread like a pest, making it difficult for local flora to survive. But they certainly thrived here, on the drive to Quilotoa the next day, if I didn’t know better, I could’ve sworn I was driving through a forest in Dwellingup.

Post cable car ride down, watching the sunset and the city light up as far as the eye could see, I joined the American and Belgian for a beer at the microbrewery across the road from my hostel. Convenient huh? I learnt that happy hour was from 4.30pm to 7pm. We had narrowly missed happy hour, but the beers were still cheap and tasty. A pint and a middy only cost me US$5, and due to my failure to consume much food since I left JFK, that was more than enough to give me a buzz. Heading back to the hostel, I fell into bed and met the 2 new guys who’d moved into the dorm. 2 Americans who’s looks and lack of much clothing were wasted on me. Turns out one of them had done some degree in Melbourne with an academic who was now based at UWA/Murdoch. 

Thank god I decided on an early-ish night and fell asleep before the other European guy went to sleep, I woke up around 3am to a god-awful racket. Even the Americans were swearing every now and then about the European guy’s snoring. Someone from the other dorms came an tried to shut our dorm door to block the noise, but our door doesn’t shut properly. I kept looking over in hopes that he’d finally rolled over to his side, or that maybe he’d snore himself awake, but alas, no such luck. He kept snoring like a freight train even on his side. Suffice to say, I wasn’t the cheeriest person on the bus the next day for the Quilotoa tour.