Colonnial Chic and Valley Heaven

My last week or so in Ecuador, sob sob... It´s been a fantastic time in this little country and I´ve really grown to love it for all its quirky, ramshackle charm and gorgeous natural beauty. I spent a few very pleasant days in the refined city of Cuenca, taking in its relaxed pace of life and slightly more cosmopolitan inhabitants, before heading south the the muy tranquilo town of Vilcabamba which turned out to be just the haven I was looking for. A place I could live I reckon, as a few other gringos have discovered over the past twenty years or so. Thankfully, this hasn´t taken away too much of the slow-paced charm, as the town remains pretty small and the local influence strong.

Cuenca
I really liked Cuenca. It has a sense of pride and style that seems seperate from the rest of the country. There is lots of great colonial architecture and its very nice and clean.





The Mercado 9 De Octobre was spotless and the produce of better quality than than most places back home! The city is also perfectly safe to wander around during the day (and I never had any problems at night either) and that was rather refreshing. It has a massive cathedral in the centre of town, the Neuve Catedral, which was built in the 1800s and manages to be pretty damn grand inside as well as out:



Across the way there is the Viejo Catedral, yes, thats the ´Old Cathedral´, build originally in the 1500´s and a little run down but fascinating inside. Unfortunately you can´t take pics. As I emerged from the Nueve Cathedral though, there was some sort of protest march going on, led by a full-on military marching band and consisting almost entirely of older locals, many in traditional Andean dress carrying placards and waving flags. I was really happy to see them out on the streets, demonstrating and taking issue with events. It struck me you wouldn´t see the old out marching in England, it takes alot to get more than the die-hards out on the streets these days, myself included. Most of us are happily tucked up in our houses in front of the TV moaning, sure, but actually getting out there and making a point? Doubtful. And that I find to be a rather sad state of affairs. Makes you think.


Some of these people here must be pushing 80 too (though obviously its hard to tell) and their passion for their cause was palpable. My favourites however were the old timer musicians playing in the back of a Jeep following the whole march. Complete and utter dudes, the lot of them:


There is supposedly a church for every week of the year in Cuenca and I went to a couple of the best ones, outside the Asunscion there is a very colourful flower market:


I also found a really fantastic exhibition by the Ecuadorian painter Jorge Chalco at a little Museum by the river. I´d not heard about him before and his stuff really is great, wild and fantastical with a real sense of place, kind of like if Gabriel Garcia Marquez was a painter if you know what I mean:



The Museo de Art Moderne was also worth a look with a good selection of exhibits, covering all sorts of different media:



I also went to Ecuador´s only Inca ruins, Ingapirca, which is certainly no Machu Picchu but was still worth a look:



With a great place to stay (La Cigale on Honorato Vasquez for those that might be interested.. Andrea ;) and a couple of cheap and tasty veggie rstaurants (coconut milkshakes made with soya milk, coconut bits and served WELL cold = blissssssss) I was set up perfectly for my last few days in the country, hiding away from it all amidst the drop-dead gorgeous scenery of Vilcabamba.



Vilcabamba
What can I say about this little place that would do it justice? I guess it just has to be experienced. Its probably one of my favourite spots I´ve been to on the trip so far, amazingly tranquil but with just enough going on to keep things interesting. From friendly locals and mind-blowing views to yes, another fantastic and cheap vegetarian restaurant, it was the perfect end to Ecuador. I even got a full body massage for the equivalent of a tenner that had me floating around for an afternoon feeling like a little fluffy cloud. And no, San Pedro was not involved. At least not that day.

A quick mention for what must be one of the most most bizarre rave scenes ever. Pretty much the whole town had gathered in front of the main church which had two sets of large speakers either side blasting, and I mean BLASTING, out a really really bad blend of reggaeton of hard house. Yep, that bad. Everyone just sat around the place silent and motionless, all apart from one little girl who took it upon herself to dance in the middle. It was really weird.


As if I don´t post enough, here´s a load more lovely photos to end on, including some hot Ladybird sex, some seriously good views and a sunset so beautiful... well:

Oh I do like to be...

...in a Cuencan Internet Cafe listening to Robbie Wiliams´ turgid pile of catsick ´Angels´ being blasted out of the speakers at me. To make matters worse it´s all in Spanish and creepily, it sounds exactly like him. Urghh.

Anyway, what I really meant to say was:

...besides the seaside. Seeing the sea again has reminded how much I´m missing its permanent prescence in my life. The good ol´ Sarf coast ain´t exactly the grand old lady of the Pacific but still, ´tones of home´, as Blind Melon once sang. Poor old Shannon Hoon.

Escaping Quito quick sharp once more, I made for the coast and an 8-hour ride over the mountains (stopping only for a paltry landslide!) and winding down through mile upon mile of tropical banana plantations and wetland shrimp farms until we finally reached the ocean. The Pacific to be precise. I was kept smiling on this trip by the bus drivers son, a sharp ten-year old named Daniel. He insisted on sitting next to me all the way and practising his English. He was fond of saying random phrases just to watch my reaction when I finally worked out what he meant. Examples included "Spaghotti met-bols", "Where does the Panda go in the night?" and various Dragonball-Z related stuff. Funny kid though, he gave me all the info I needed and he even knew what tropical music was when I played him some of the Ghana Soundz album I´ve been listening to death. Sound parenting that.

Canoa is a very small, very laid-back surf village where not alot goes on, but the beach is massive and clean and the water is lovely and warm. Perfect for a few days of lounging. The beaches are littered with timid little crabs, some of them completely translucent. The sunsets were rather impressive:



Suitably relaxed and ready for something a little more constructive, I skipped down to Puerto Lopez, centre of Ecuador´s Whale watching and the closest town to the Isla de la Plata (or the poor man´s Galapagos). It took four buses, a small boat and a man-powered bike-taxi to get there but it was defintely worth it. I really like Whales. Something about their magnificent, ancient intelligence really strikes a chord with me so I was really looking forward to getting out at sea to find the gentile Humpbacks who swim down from the Arctic for their summer holidays every year to hang out off the northern coasts of South America. The tour includes a walk around the Island, 37km out to sea, with its variety of interesting birds -



- that Frigate´s red frontage puffs up like a balloon, some of them got so big their little faces were almost obscured! I love that other guy´s bright blue feet too. After the walk, we even got to do a spot of snorkelling which was amazing, multicoloured fish everywhere you looked, surrounded by tiny little shoals. The town itself is in an area designated a National Park (this includes a large area of the Ocean). It´s a fishing village and you can watch the guys bringing their catch onto the beach each day:




The land-based area of Machalilla NP includes a beach often whispered as Ecuador´s best, Playa Los Frailes, reached by a 4km walk that takes in deserted beaches and dramatic cliff-top views. Love it. You just can´t beat a good bit of rugged coastline:




I even found this little guy hiding in his half-created house. I think I disturbed him mid-build:

And, for my grand finale here´s one of the boys (or girls, I have no idea how to tell) performing for my camera. It was nothing short of magnificent to behold and they came so close to the boat at one point I thought they were going to go right underneath us:


In a word, WOW.

Head In The Clouds

"If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things through narrow chinks of his cavern." - William Blake


From Quito it’s a bumpy three and a half hour bus ride to the small village of Chontal in North-western Ecuador. I’d spent the previous couple of days enjoying the luxury of warm showers, the most comfortable beds in a hostel so far and panoramic roof-top views at Secret Garden in the Old Town. Once in Chontal, I was met by a smiling young lad upon whom I unleashed some rather garbled Spanish, eventually figuring out that he was actually going to take me up to Los Cedros, the biological reserve in the Cloud Forest where I would be spending the next month. Standing there in the baking midday sun with two French tourists who hardly spoke any English, he disappeared up a small lane, returning minutes later with four slightly tired-looking mules: our ride up.



Now this was my first ever mule ride experience and for the first hour I was all smiles, watching the scenery slowly change as we began to climb upwards. My valiant steed, Kensuki, was clearly the tired old workhorse of the bunch and I had to hang on tight as his front foot kept slipping in the mud. Five hours and a pretty sore behind later, having been up some truly crazy terrain and waded through a couple of streams, we emerged from the depths of the forest onto a flat ridge that overlooks two lush green valleys. Some wooden structures poke through the trees and the frenzied sound of a dog barking signalled our arrival. On a clear day you can see all the way down the valley to the blue haze of more mountains in the distance. It’s beautiful.




Los Cedros has been operational as a non-profit research station for the ongoing protection and conservation of some 6000ha of primary forest for over twenty years. Director and founder Jose De Coux, an outspoken American ex-pat, has been living up here permanently since it’s inception in 1994 and relies on volunteer help to keep everything running as it should. Naturally, that’s where I come in. Along with few fellow international helpers, I have spent my time here chopping, hauling, hiking, clearing, harvesting, feeding and cleaning my way round the reserve. That makes it sound a little like hard work but I must confess, its been pretty laid back.








Living up here, about as far away from civilisation as I’ve ever been has been paradoxically both relaxed and hard-working. Its been undeniably refreshing to be so far away from the hustle and bustle of the rest of the world, hidden away up on a mountain with only the forest and its bounty of flora and fauna for company. I’ve swum in natural pools and felt the immense power of a waterfall beat down upon my back, come face to face with a variety of interesting creatures, baked no end of amazing cookies, played endless games of ‘Presidents and Arseholes’, completed many challenging hikes through the gorgeous unspoilt forests of the reserve. It’s been a great experience overall. Jose is certainly a fascinating character with a lifetime of tall stories and conservation experience to draw on and the place wouldn’t be the same without him, despite his sometimes ‘crotchety’ tendencies. Here´s some of the critters I met:











One fortuitous event I wasn’t expecting whilst up there was a chance to try the famed mescaline-containing San Pedro cactus (Hi again Mum!) that is indigenous to Andean regions from Ecuador down to Peru and Bolivia. Fernando, a fellow drummer and one of Jose’s friends from Quito arrived last week for one of his regular pilgrimages. His aim? To get back to nature in a very primal way. With excellent synchronicity, I was invited to join him and his friend Herrardo to drink the foul-tasting juice and spend a day wandering through the boulder-strewn riverbeds and ancient forest lost in a reverie of happiness and wonder. It was rather fantastic. Like a psychedelic Ray Mears, I scrambled up streams and floated down trails, by turns becoming fascinated by the actions of the most minute of creatures and relishing the deep feeling of connectedness to the abundance of buzzing energy all around. Far out.

A few photos taken during this experience happen to be some of my favourites so far, the mescaline definitely enhanced my aesthetic appreciation (or ‘photographer’s eye’), not to mention having a similarly dramatic effect on all my other senses. It was definitely strong, yet not particularly intense. I remained highly focused, yet wonderfully dreamy and time became very fluid. It all felt like a very natural state of being. I remember reading Aldous Huxleys infamous 1954 work, ‘The Doors of Perception’ (Yep, Uncle Jim Morrison was a fan) years ago and it kicked off an personal sense of intrigue about the plant that has finally been answered. And yes Kelvin I know you still have my copy you git!

Nine hour (yes, it lasts NINE hours!) dimensional adventures aside, it’s nice to get back on the road again. I’ve got less than half of my trip remaining now. The next two weeks or so will be my last in Ecuador and there are plenty of places I’m planning to check out. From the unspoilt beaches of Canoa and a spot of whale watching in Puerto Lopez, to the colonial city (and UNESCO world heritage site) of Cuenca, to the long-time hippy hangout of Vilcabamba, a village set in a lush valley famous for the reputed longevity of its inhabitants (and its abundance of… San Pedro). Right now though, I’m back in Quito for a day or so, getting used to civilisation again, stocking up on food and most importantly, good quality green tea! How about some more photos I hear you cry? Oh go on then. These are the mescaline pictures. See if you can see a difference… x