Gettin' Outta Dodge...

With the first week of school in the books it was time to hit the trail. Matt and Di had the idea to go to the little town of Principal, Ecuador. It was only about an hour and a half South East. I was usually up for tripping but I hadn’t gotten much stuff done in the last few days, this blog included, so I figured an empty house would be a good time to clean, write, read and study.

It took a little longer for Matt and Di to get going because of some logistical issues and by that time I had finally cleaned my room, unpacked, actually moved in and started some laundry. Feeling slightly accomplished, I figured I was now in better shape to get out of town so I packed my backpack and hopped on the wagon. I’ve got a change of clothes, shorts for hiking, a jacket, another layer and some water so I am good for a few days. I’ve also got my bathing suit in case of any hot springs. Though we are going to a volcano so hopefully it won’t go Dante’s Peak on us.

We set out from the apartment and rustle through the busy bus station. Cuenca sells more sugar per block than Disneyland. Every vender has bright colored candy of every variety and if that doesn’t make your mother (or your dentist) angry, the most popular dish here is Salchipapas. It’s a plate of fries doused in ketchup and mayonnaise topped with a deep fried hot dog! Its not for skinny arteries but it is very good in an I-hope-no-one-is-looking kind of way. Friday they did come to my aide when the previous night’s buzz turned into that morning’s headache.

The busses in Ecuador are obnoxious. They BLAST dumb Stone Cold Steve Austin movies the entire time. And they don’t bother to bleep a thing. Being in college and working in a bar my ears didn’t notice much but we are traveling with a seven and a five year old. This movie was actually in Spanish (usually English) so little ear muffs were necessary but it is pretty ridiculous. Somehow with Steve Austin killing people up front, my music at full blast and the driver nearing the record for most consecutive potholes hit, I still managed to sleep.



We arrived in Sig Sig in mid-afternoon. It is a small town at the end of a valley. Duncan and Piper had done such a good job counting red cars on the way there we decided to stop for ice cream. For two or three dollars we all grabbed some ice cream and went to check out the town square. Just when we were about done with out ice cream an old drunk approached us armed with a distinct smell, something between a stumble and a waddle, and a very bloody nose he probably got from losing a fight with a staircase. He first asked if Matt was a doctor but that was about the last word we were able to make out for about five minutes. He wouldn’t leave so we ended up spending less time in Sig Sig than we had planned to.

We wanted to take a bus on to Principal but none of the busses ended up going that way so we had to improvise a little. Lots of people live on the roads that go up the side of this valley so there are lots of cabs driving around relative to the size of the city. We hopped in a cab (truck) and it took us over a mountain pass and back down the other side, which was the best view I had had yet.

After passing another small town, something like Guelo, we arrived in Principal. It was getting dark and the only thing going on was a game of soccer between the locals. In Ecuador there is a game called Equa-Voli Its like volleyball but with a soccer ball and a very high net. There is no spiking because the net is so high and the Ecuadorians are shorter than I am. It gets really intense and draws big crowds for a game that is not very hard. Any American volleyball player would be pretty bored and would probably rarely lose a point. However, interestingly enough, in Principal, the boys were all playing Ecua-Voli and the girls were all playing soccer.

For dinner we ate in this one-room concrete “restaurant.” The entire place was about the size of the paint on a basketball court. They were cooking pollo and rice. The kids, of course, got salchipapas. We sat at a plastic table with three chairs about four feet from the grill. Another plastic table had plates and utensils. The people from the square filtered in and out as we enjoyed out meal.

After eating we hung out and watched more soccer then we headed up to our hostel. It was a woman’s house and the three bedrooms upstairs had bunk beds and board games. The kids were in heaven. They made the beds and we played scrabble. It was a travel scrabble set, which folds up and the pieces stick into the board and onto a little clip to keep your own letters. My performance was kind of Wilt Chamberlain circa 1962 (He averaged 50 points per game). I was dominant. I won by 60 or so and had over 200 points before we called the game with a few rounds remaining, but it was kind of unfair. You can’t help the way the letters fall. You can only do the best with what you’ve got. But I really did get all the good letters (like how Wilt had six inches on everyone) and if I didn’t get them, they got teed up for me. Scrabble is a wonderful example of how it is sometimes better to be lucky than good.

After my transcendent run of scrabble artistry, it was time for bed. We were in the mountains where it is quite I bit colder than Cuenca. I couldn’t see my breath but had the lights been on I’m sure it would have been visible. Good news is the hostel keeper is aware of the climate and we had plenty of blankets to keep warm.

Morning comes always early with these kids and especially in a creaky old house. The iPod can only go so loud but I fell asleep at a decent hour and coffee wasn’t far away. We played Chinese Checkers downstairs. I had never played before. Fun game. Not Scrabble..

Breakfast was across the street in a family’s house. It had rained the night before and the steep muddy walkway was not to be taken lightly. Not in my pretty new jacket (Thanks Ben!). The woman claimed to have only made them with salt, but the breakfast gods must have blessed her skillet because these eggs were amazing. It was served with some tomato juice that I got a double helping of because the kids didn’t like it. I am absolutely the benefactor of their picky taste buds. The house had a miniature balcony but grand views spanning the valley and the volcano. We got out of there with five full stomachs for $10.


After breakfast we decided to wander. The night’s rain had made longer hikes an issue. Plus the kids’ short legs are usually limiting as well. We hiked for about an hour toward the volcano but as the kids’ legs waned, we headed back for town. We got close enough to the volcano that a camera superior to that on my phone would have gotten some pretty good photos. It was really only about an hour and a half more to the volcano and might be worth going back with just adults.

Back in Principal we caught a bus to Chordeleg and grabbed lunch at the market. After passing pigs’ heads and different kinds of genitals, we decided to stop for some chicken and rice. The soup had some meat in it that was attached to a bone larger than any I had seen in a bowl of soup before. It was not easy it eat with a spoon.

Two more busses and then back in Cuenca. The first one was nice and spacious. The bus station in between had one vender selling meat-on-a-stick and another selling doughnut holes so I was in good shape. Bathrooms were ten cents and kinda gross. We got on the next bus for Cuenca and it was packed. Standing room only for an hour. For a second I thought my space near the front was a good spot but then I realized I was in the middle of the coming and going for all the stops in between Chordeleg and Cuenca. I was next to all kinds of people. People who smelled bad. People who smelled worse and then something from one kid’s backpack was dripping on my shoe. I was not so long removed from an hour of hiking uphill in the mud so call me “pot” but I was uncomfortable.

I finally got to the back and Matt said “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you, whatever you do, don’t leave your bag near the front unattended.” My eyes drifted back towards the front of the bus in self-defeat. My North Face bag was sitting in the overhead storage right by the door. The straps were even hanging off. Just dumb gringo written all over it. I bet there is 80 dollars for Spanish classes in the front pocket too. I kept my eye on and made my way to the front and got a hold of it as we were pulling up to the station. A couple local busses later we were back home (5 total!) My room was clean for the first time since I arrived in Ecuador. Good thing I laid down with all my muddy clothes on.