Banos

Banos
20 - 22 April

We left Monanita at the crack of dawn (9am!!!) to make our way along with Sarah to Banos. Little did we realise the journey which lay ahead. Thick fog, crammed bus, nail biting mountain passes - enduring all this for 12 hours in order to do the 60km Cycle from Banos to Puyo the following day. We finally arrived at around 11pm, smashed a pizza and headed for a late night internet cafe in order to make contact with our respective lovers.

The town of Banos, meaning baths known for its hot springs, lies surrounded by beautiful green mountains and an active smoking volcano.

The following day, we hired bikes and began our 60km descent (with hills) to Puyo. In typical style, we got covered in mud and attacked by mosquitos. We stopped off along the way, to look at the waterfalls scattered along the route, and a look out over the jungle and the river Negro, a tributary feeding into the Amazon River. We stopped for a lunch on the side of the road (literally, sitting on the yellow lines) inhaling truck fumes as they passed, enjoying our sandwiches and freshly purchased maracuya and tangarines. It felt good to have some exercise after a week of sitting at the beach! When we reached Puyo we tossed our bikes onto the roof of a bus and high fiving each other, journeyed back up to Banos.

That evening we bumped into dozy dutch Martin from Arequipa, and persuaded him to join us on a tour up to view the volcano spewing sparks, fumes and flames as shown in photos in the advertisements. However, Martin had to endure a ride in an open bus with less than adequate space for his Dutch legs and a poor performance by the volcano ie. a hill and he's vowed never to accept an invitation for a tour with us again.

Ryan arrived early the next morning from Montanita. We both hired quad bikes, while Ryan hired a motorbike. We were given strict instructions from the quad bike rental not to go off road and up the mountain... so naturally we did, giving lifts to 2 local little girls walking up who rewarded us with a naartjie each. We made it to the highest point we could, ending up a local papaya farm. The farmers proudly showed us their green house, and the puma they had shot, stuffed and perched in a tree. We sat for a while watching the smoke rising from the volcano just 500m above us. On the way down, racing to meet a deadline to return the bikes, we were stopped by an old man wanting us to taste his apples. We politely picked his apples and ate the pieces he cut off for us using his dirty rusty knife. Now even more delayed, the stress of the gravel on road at speed on Gayle's quad bike, caused the back metal grid to break off. Ryan had to rip it off to prevent it catching in the back wheels.

We returned the quad bikes, after getting lost in the streets. They didn't mind that Gayle had broken their bike and instead offered her drugs. Ryan still had a some more time with his motorbike, so Gayle hopped on the back for a ride to another view point on the otherside of the river.

That night despite our attempts to have a quiet dinner with just Ryan and Sarah, Martin tagged along with numerous others. We ate quickly and left the masses to catch our bus that night onto Coca and the jungle!

We're waxing down our surf boards..

Montanita
13 April - 20 April

Over the green Andes, we bussed from Cuenca down to the desolate Ecuadorian coast. Now classifying ourselves as experienced travellers, we easily mastered the national bus system which involved a skillful bus change at a "village" from a coach to a local bus. We were separated on the coach, due to our less than timely boarding - we'd bumped into traumatised looking Immy at the Guayagil Bus Station and Gayle wanted to know the gossip as Johnny was missing! Gayle nearly lost out on a seat, until a kind man summoned her from the back, while Nicky found a seat and had to endure a sleezy local man making kissing noises at her through out the journey. Once again reunited on the local bus to Montanita, we were like long lost friends with much to catch up on (all three hours of separation!!)

On arrival, we stood on the dusty national road, unsure what our next moves were, we befriended .... a Montanita local in his board shorts and surfboard in hand who showed us to the town and recommended a hostel. We realised that we had arrived in bungy surfers' paradise, with only 2 sandy roads and restaurants, bars, hostels and surfing rental shops spilling onto the streets. We quickly dumped our bags in Tikilimbo hostel and headed straight for the beach. We bumped into Swedish Martin and his Danish young lover in tow (clearly The Game was working for him), where we could see his mind working frantically trying to place us. We put him out of his misery and reminded him of our time spent together a week before at Mancora.

We had an early first night after a long day of travelling, only to be rudely awoken at 3am by 2 guitarists having a jam session. Despite being pissed off, we were actually quite impressed and entertained by their singing. The next morning there was no question about whether or not to stay - we packed up our things, handed in the keys and marched over to a quieter and more spacious accomodation recommended to us by Martin. We ended up scoring a 2 storey room with a sea view, en-suite bathroom, 3 double beds and a bunk bed for a bargain of $8 each. Despite all the space, we still shared the double bed downstairs in order to reap benefits of the single fan.

We initially planned to stay only about 4 days, but the surf, sunshine, Crazy Donkey restaurant (for its melt-in-your-mouth swordfish) and good company - that present and that awaiting - kept us in Montanita for a week.

We soon developed our daily routine... breakfast on the verandah; beach and spanish conversations with our 60 year old ex-surfer now turned umbrella man; lunchtime break for banana, maracuya and raspberry smoothie from our regular smoothie vendor, and when available cut up mango from the mango man. This was then followed by an hour at the internet cafe researching jobs back in the real world...or rather possiblities to extend our stay in South America; then back to the beach mid afternoon, with Nicky joining the surfing gang consisting of gorgeous German Laif (pronounced Life), Martin and the Dane, while Gayle overdosed herself with Vitamin D. and awaiting in anticipation for the unpredictable arrival of the Ozzie.

We managed to sub let one of our beds to Sarah (from Bariloche) who needed little persuasion to join us, the unpredictable Ozzie, however, was somewhat more of a challenge and finally arrived the day before we left.

Interlude

11 August 2007
London

As we sit here at East Putney tube station 4 months later, on our way to Camden, in order to purchase a replacement for Nicky's Argentinian ring (see Lost Property at side), and knowing that we'll soon be separated again this time indefinitely, we thought we'd better get onto attempting to complete the final posts of our Excellent Adventures.

From here on all writing is written in retrospect using photos and journals as main points of reference...

Panama Hats and Interesting Characters

Cuenca, Ecuador
11 - 13 April

Cuenca was our next destination. This city had a colonial feel with its whitewashed buildings,

cobblestone streets, and balconies adorned with blooming flowerboxes. With Henley and Ascot in mind, it was here we made our second extravagant purchase – a Panama hat – a must-have purchase in Cuenca. Here we were greeted by a lovable old man, Alberto, apparently famous for making these intricately hand woven Panama hats, as demonstrated by the numerous photos and magazine articles framed up on the wall. When questioned about our nationality, a very excited Alberto pulled out his scrapbooks and proudly showed us photos of previous visitors to his shop as well as postcards sent from their countries on their return. So we had our photo, and we have yet to send our postcard to him.

We then ventured on to the Museum Prohibido Centro Cultural on recommendation by Hubert, the crazy German from Vilcabamba. Unfortunately (or fortunately) it was closed and while we admired/gawped at the strange and freaky façade we attracted the attention of the friendly, grey bearded neighbour, who summoned us over in Dutch. As a retired captain of a ship he captivated us with his stories of his time at sea and him leaving Holland for his Ecuadorian love. He then invited us into his house to view his collection of various antiques he’d accumulated over the years. “You can buy anything in my house” he kindly informed us! As much as we were tempted, we wisely decided against substituting our faithful backpacks for one of his elaborate wooden chests.

After that interesting encounter, we wandered around and followed the sounds of marching bands where we found ourselves at the centre Cuenca’s 450th birthday celebration. Various companies and schools participated in the parade, each having their own theme and costumes, ranging from men on stilts to Miss Cuencas doing the sultry royal wave on board a float.

On our walk home, Gayle splashed out on a £3 haircut by a gay, long haired flamboyant Columbian hairdresser who randomly cut at will, in between posing for photos, hugging his “brother” (lover?) and getting over excited about our attempts to communicate in Spanish. It came as no surprise, that Gayle then wore her hair in a pony tail for the rest of the trip!

After a long afternoon of ambling around the cobble streets, we went for dinner at an Italian restaurant where we giggled and had a heart to heart over a bottle of wine.

Vilcabamba

Vilcabamba
8 - 11 April

We finally relaxed, and set our nerves at ease after a traumatic border crossing, in Vilcabamba. On recommendation from a Kiwi couple in Mancora we jumped in a taxi, and showed the driver the card for Izcayhumba Hostel "the luxury of a hostel at the cost of a backpackers". However, he unfortunately deposited us at the wrong place on the other side of town and had already driven off by the time we realised. Politely we looked around the 'wrong' place, using the excuse that we wanted a pool to say no, and the lady phoned a taxi for us. Luck was on our side that day and we had to laugh when the same taxi driver arrived to take us to the correct place. We didn't think it was out of line to refuse to pay for his mistake and Nicky was not afraid to tell him this - in unbelievable spanish! On arrival at the Izcayhumba we were met by Hubert, the receptionist, and most eccentric German ever who told us all the ins and outs of the hostel...

The hostel, built and run by ex-travellers, catered for every need - huge fluffy towels, free mineral water, and all day breakfast - stating that when they had been travellers they had never made it to breakfast at the set times, so thought it was important to have all day!
The hostel diningroom looked over a fabulous view of the lush green valley and mountains.

Here we met Heidi, from the USA, who was suffering from a severe case of verbal diarrhoea after not seeing any gringos for a good few days...

Day one we borrowed the hostels 'skadonks of a mountain bikes' with dodgy brakes and gears that hardly changed and attempted riding into the mountains. Here the bug got the better of Gayle and the cycle ride ended with a trip to the pharmacy for antibiotics...

The following day we hiked the Mandango Walk with Heidi, and Isla, an Australian travelling around South America on a motorbike (Che style). Was a great walk with beautiful views over Vilcabamba. Spent the afternoon chilling and relaxing and then left for Cuenca
the following day. We were really touched when we were told by Heidi that we were the nicest and funnest girls she had met on her travels! A great few days chilling and trying to get over "the bug".

Chaos

Border crossing Peru to Ecuador
7 April

After a hearty breakfast at our regular joint we set off with Thomas and Louisa into the unknown - the border crossing between Peru and Ecuador. This is infamous for being one of the worst border crossings in South America and we chose to do this in possibly the most dangerous way making use of local taxis and avoiding the direct bus - madness?!

Comforted by our safety in numbers, we hitched a ride from Mancora in a 1974 American Dodge. This ride is pretty much summarised by Thomas - see quotes.
At the border we were unsurprisingly swarmed upon by 2 men who told us if we stuck with them we were guaranteed a safe crossing. We knew this was completely unnecessary however one of them was completely insistant, even getting in the car to come with us from the customs office to the border (a ridiculous 5km away). Our driver then dropped us off in the middle of the chaotic market leaving us to fend for oursleves against our conmen! We eventually managed to get rid of them after telling them there was no way we were going to give them any money and felt very vulnerable as we walked through this border town across a 20m bridge and into Ecuador. Once at the other side of the bridge we first had to buy and onward bus ticket before getting our entry stamp into Ecuador. We had to leave our bags on the bus, catch a taxi to the customs office where we prayed that the bus would actually pick us up as promised and we would be reunited with our lives - our backpacks.
Amazingly this all occurred relaively smoothly - Nicky has a brief heart stopping moment when the official had to look up visa requirements for South Africa, but fortunately the information she had this time was correct, and she was ecstatic when her passport was stamped.

It was incredible how much the vegetation and scenery changed almost immediately from a barren Peru to lush green mountains and rain - the pot holes and mudslides along the road making for precarious passage, and as a result a flat tyre on our bus trip! The plan was to go through to Vilcabamba but due to the delay after changing 2 bus tyres we arrived really late in Loja and decided to rather stay the night.

Epic

Mancora, Peru
3 - 7 April

We arrived at 5.30am, blurry eyed, and took a rickshaw to our hostal and crashed... The next day, determined to be based at the beach front, we wondered around the town trying to find alternative accomodation. Unfortunately due to the Easter weekend everything was doubling in price so we decided to stay put at La Posada.

Our days were spent at the beach with our little gang including Ollie, who soon became our roomie; Swedish Martin; Israeli Roy; Swedish Immi and Irish Johnny; and our favourites Ryan and Crazy Dave (the hot surfers from the bus!). Nicky took a couple of surfing lessons while Gayle attended Yoga sessions at Thomas and Louisa's Lodge. The sunsets were never to be missed as a low cloud on the horizon reflected the sun as it sets creating incredible shapes - squares, mushrooms, hourglass... Most evenings we met up with Thomas and Louisa for our "seven o clock supper dates". Bonfires on the beach in the evening were a magnet for gringos and locals alike and we met a couple of interesting characters - an American who lost his American accent and gained an Irish one after working a couple of weeks in Loki. In true ignorant style this gem could not believe that being white we were from South Africa (ever heard of Apartheid?). A local also tried his luck romancing Gayle with tempting offers of moonlit walks on the beach, whispering sweet nothings in her ear ("What is your city like? Do you have roads?"), and trying to impress her with his daredevil firethrowing tricks. Alas, all in vain.




The Easter weekend brought many locals to Mancora and the big event of the week was the Full Moon Party/Rave. It was a big night, more so for some that others - Gayle's enthusiastic dance moves landed her on the floor and she was completely oblivious to the fact that she had cut her head open especially after being reassured by Ryan that everything was ok. It was only when Dr Fredericks noticed her blood soaked shirt and blood trickling down her neck that she was marched outside for a cleaning and inspection. Convinced that his wasn't a problem Gayle was determined to go back to the party but the Dr dragged her home for a proper sterile cleaning and some overnight compression bandaging.


On our last night, what seems to have unintentionally become a tradition, we had another all-nighter. A group of us took over the Luna Bar with crazy dancing, conversations with Ollie about Aliens, teaching Roy how to smile (spaghetti!). When the bar closed the owner drove us to a rustic beach house in the middle of nowhere with the DJ from the previous nights rave mixing, a green strobe light pulsing, and us embracing the spirit of the night...