Cotopaxi

Spent three days in Parque Nacional Cotopaxi, about an hour´s bus ride from Quito. Cotopaxi is a beautiful, symmetrical---and active!---volcano that rises to about 19,300 feet. It is usually visible from Quito, but this is the rainy season and clouds have obstructed my view of it since I arrived in Quito.

I stayed at an eco lodge called Secret Garden, which does have a garden where they grow all the vegetables and keep the cuy (ginea pig) and rabbit that they cook for guests. The lodge was terrific. It strives to be very ecologically conscious and thus the rooms have no electricity, they grow most of their own food, and the rooms do not have any electricity, just candles and a wood stove. Ironically, however, it did have a big hot tub located on a little hill on the property with panoramic views of the national park. But I wasn´t about to criticize the hot tub when it felt so damn good to sit in there with a refreshing beer after a long cold day of being outside.

We arrived in the early afternoon, had a simple lunch of vegetable soup and bread, and hiked out to a nearby waterfall. The hike was actually more difficult that I thought. We basically followed the creekbed and had to do some class five scrambling. It would not have been pleasant to fall, and luckily, I stayed dry.

The next morning, I decided to go on a horseback ride to the park. It was just me and another Bay Area girl, Ruby, and our guide. Ruby grew up in Orinda and had horses as a child; the closest I got to riding was while being led around a ring on a pony. It was clear from the moment I mounted him that my horse knew that I had zero riding experience, and he proceeded to take advantage of it. He would take off on a gallop without provocation while I hung on to the horn for dear life and prayed to the stars that I would not fall off.

The ride was gorgeous, even though visibility was poor. There was no one else on the trail, which led us from the entrance to the national park around the base of the volcano. On a clear day, Cotopaxi would be visible at all times during the ride, but this time we only caught fleeting glimpses of it. Around two hours into our hike, we were riding in a complete whiteout. One hour later, we were riding in a downpour. What was supposed to be a three hour ride had turned into a five hour one, most of which was done in the rain. By the end of the day, my horse and I thoroughly hated each other. It seemed he was anxious to throw me off his back; when he realized that I would hang on even when he galloped, he (deliberately, it seemed) brushed up against trees or low-slung branches in an effort to get rid of me. And he kept turning his head to bite my leg. The feeling was mutual.

I decided that I don´t like horses very much.

Quito

I stayed in a nice hostel in the historic part of the city (a UNESCO World Heritage site), and the views from its rooftop terrace were incredible. I spent every breakfast and almost every night on this terrace, enjoying a fire and a couple (or three) beers before hitting the bars in another part of town.

Quito is so similar to San Francisco--the morning fog, the electric buses, the narrow streets that defy gravity, the crisp, cool air. But there´s something about Quito that made me feel more alien than I ever have during my travels. I couldn´t quite put my finger on it. Maybe it was the fact that there were so many people walking around in traditional costume--the women wear their hair in two long braids down their back, a bright, embroidered skirt and jacket, and a stiff white hat; the men wear felt hats and short trousers. Maybe it was the altitude---the city varies between 10,000 and 13,000 feet, and I was definitely huffing my way up hills. Maybe it was the Ecuadorean accent; after some time in Colombia I had gotten used to Colombian Spanish, and Ecuadorians certainly speak differently. Maybe it was all in my head...

Doesn`t this look like California street? Or is it just me?

The internet connection here is the slowest I´ve encountered so far and only lets me post one photo at one excruciating time. I left Quito after a couple days for Parque Nacional Cotopaxi for a glacier hike and a horseback ride through exquisite countryside. More tomorrow.

Finals days in Cartagena

It has been raining every day for the last two weeks, sometimes for six hours each day. When it rains, it pours, and the streets turn into little rivers.

I spent the morning on a self-guided tour--in the pouring rain!--of El Castillo de San Felipe de Barajas. It is billed as the strongest fortress ever built by the Spanish in any of their colonies, and sits on top of a hill overlooking the city. Later in the afternoon, the sun came out for a brief and glorious moments and I was able to take a few more pictures before the downpour started again.

The rain has altered my plan of following the Caribbean coast up to the Guajira Peninsula and heading down south to Barrichara. But I will definitely be back here. I have been so impressed by the beauty of the country and the Colombian people, who are some of the warmest, friendliest, and most welcoming people I have ever met. Traveling here is safe and easy, and there is just so much to see. A future trip is already in the works, this time with Daniel in tow.

Breakfasts in Colombia

In Bogota, I started out my days with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, bread, and a huge hunk of cheese. It was a perfect complement to the cold, dreary days. In Cartagena, my mornings start out with a refreshing glass of jugo de lulo---a small, hairy, orange-colored fruit that is indiginous to Colombia---and a couple pasteles filled with all sorts of goodies. I am addicted to pasteles de arequipe, Colombia´s version of dulce de leche, but the pasteles filled other fruit, like guayaba and manzanas, are incredible as well.

I am going to miss this.

(Belated) happy halloween from Colombia

This country knows how to party. The night began with a chiva---a brightly colored Colombian party bus very similar to those ubiquitous San Francisco cable cars that troll the city with drunken revelers hanging off the sides. The chiva rolled through the city of Santa Marta and neighboring outer barrios as bottles of aguardiente (a local moonshine that could power a truck), local rum, vodka, and god knows what else were passed around.

We ended up at a small, cramped club that looked like everyone was carrying concealed weapons. But it ended up being a perfect way to end the night---the music was a great mishmash of Latin hiphop and salsa, and the crowd inside was surging with the music. The club officially closed at 3am, but the party just poured out into the streets. The music and dancing went on, and men with styrofoam coolers around their necks sold beer to the revelers.

This is a country that enjoys the good things in life, and it shows.

Cartagena de Indias

It is as beautiful and romantic as they say. This walled city looks and feels as new as the day the Spanish built it--the paint is still vibrant, the sound of harse-drawn carriages ring through the narrow stone streets, the soft yellow lights look as though they are lit by candles. It is very safe to walk alone here at night, camera out and clicking away. Policemen patrol almost every corner and there are tons of people dancing on the streets. The walled city has two general parts: most of the historic icons are in the more ritzy neighborhoods of El Centro and San Diego, while the backpacker ghetto is in the grittier and rowdier Getsamani. I stayed in Getsamani last night and the place was alive until the wee hours with people dancing to all sorts of music---salsa, techno, hip hop, even Bob Marley. I moved to El Centro the second night to get a feel for the place. There are people out until the early morning as well, but they`re more well-heeled folk. There was nary a dreadlock or arm band in sight (except mine!) and beautiful people salsa the evening away.

I had dinner at La Cevicheria, a small restaurant run by an Italian expat and was featured in Anthony Bourdain`s travel show. The chef suggested wine pairings to go with each course, so how could I refuse? I started out with langosta ceviche con limon, naranja, miel, aceite de oliva, aceitunas, alcaparras, tomate picado, oregano y cilantro, paired with a New Zealand white. I moved on to un lomo de res en una salsa de champingones de Paris con vino blance, crema, y perejil, paired with a French pinot noir. I barely had room for desert, a lemon tart. Although all of this only cost about $40, it definitely blew my daily budget. I`m back to eating comida correinte tomorrow--meat with rice, beans, salsa and fried plaintains--which is just as good, but doesn`t photograph quite as well.

In Bogota

Bogota´s historic center is a magical place. The city is quite high--the third-highest city after La Paz and Quito--and surrounded by mountains. I spent the day walking up and down its hilly streets and having a pan con chocolate at almost every corner.