Saturday, 11 August 2007

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...