Quito
We were waved through customs while everyone else had to wait to be screened. I managed to smuggle an apple into a foreign country. Perhaps the smoothest airport experience ever, both sides. Not more than a minute wait, except for baggage, and practically none at all in Miami, checking in (though the line we were first getting in meant we wouln´t have made our 2 hour later flight), security (Kelsey loved the new sniffer technology at Miami airport.) Okay, we did have to wait to board because the cleaning crew didn´t finish their job.
We hopped a taxi from the airport to the hostal Kelsey booked in Quito. She insisted on paying the driver $10, though it would only have been a $5 ride in the states, and only a $2 ride in Ecuador, but only that much because it was from the airport, and at night. She´s what we call a ¨soft touch¨ in the business, or what they call a ¨mark¨in the other business. More on that later.
Cars here have seatbelt straps, but no buckles, which is pretty cool, but useless.
We checked into the place after the driver wandered around, unable to find the street, which I finally gave directions to. It was a pretty swank place, pretty much a whole house, though there were two Dutch girls, and a Swiss guy staying there, all studying Spanish.
We went to the tienda (small store) with our hostess, a nice little lady, in her car. It was about a block away. We got soup and crackers, and that was our dinner, with apple & strawberry soda.
Next day we walked around the whole city. Saw two cathedrals, one is called the Basilica, where they bury the dead presidents, but since few presidents retire in good standing, few were buried there.
It looked like it was built in the 20th century, using cinder blocks, concrete, and rebar, but never quite finished, but it is in a shambles, practically falling apart. Think the Kingdome. We climbed all over, across a causeway (cswy for those of you from Medina) over the vaulted ceiling of the chapel, and up the towers where there was a real danger of the ledge breaking off and plummeting 100 feet or more to our untimely demise or no more timely serious injury.
We climbed to the top of the tower and as Kelsey said in her email, someone had graffitied in marker not to ring the bells, but I didn´t feel that was official enough a warning, so I rang them. So did Kelsey with minimal prompting.
Yes we have pictures. And climbing ladders and such in the cathedral was more frightening than crossing a ravine on a cable car, or crossing the stream at the bottom of the same ravine in a rotten footbridge.
The other cathedral we sat in the chapel for a bit, walking in with sqeaky sandals that reminded me of the ducks that had kept us up the night before. Kelsey told the hostess I wanted to eat the ducks, and the little old lady said, I quote, ¨I kill you!¨
The basilica´s chapel was closed, but I got locked in a spooky dark alcove when Kelsey abandoned me and the elevator doors nearly pinched my arm off. I took pictures to light it up with the digital camera, and it looked like there were ghosts (semi-transparent streaks) whenever I pointed at the chapel, but not the staircase leading down to the dungeon.
We also went up a hill in a taxi to see a statue of some chick with wings. It was big. She was standing on the world.
I don´t know if the call them taquerias here, but all the places we ate in Quito were good.
Next morning we caught the 7:20 bus to Mindo, a small town that had more hostals than residents.
We hopped a taxi from the airport to the hostal Kelsey booked in Quito. She insisted on paying the driver $10, though it would only have been a $5 ride in the states, and only a $2 ride in Ecuador, but only that much because it was from the airport, and at night. She´s what we call a ¨soft touch¨ in the business, or what they call a ¨mark¨in the other business. More on that later.
Cars here have seatbelt straps, but no buckles, which is pretty cool, but useless.
We checked into the place after the driver wandered around, unable to find the street, which I finally gave directions to. It was a pretty swank place, pretty much a whole house, though there were two Dutch girls, and a Swiss guy staying there, all studying Spanish.
We went to the tienda (small store) with our hostess, a nice little lady, in her car. It was about a block away. We got soup and crackers, and that was our dinner, with apple & strawberry soda.
Next day we walked around the whole city. Saw two cathedrals, one is called the Basilica, where they bury the dead presidents, but since few presidents retire in good standing, few were buried there.
It looked like it was built in the 20th century, using cinder blocks, concrete, and rebar, but never quite finished, but it is in a shambles, practically falling apart. Think the Kingdome. We climbed all over, across a causeway (cswy for those of you from Medina) over the vaulted ceiling of the chapel, and up the towers where there was a real danger of the ledge breaking off and plummeting 100 feet or more to our untimely demise or no more timely serious injury.
We climbed to the top of the tower and as Kelsey said in her email, someone had graffitied in marker not to ring the bells, but I didn´t feel that was official enough a warning, so I rang them. So did Kelsey with minimal prompting.
Yes we have pictures. And climbing ladders and such in the cathedral was more frightening than crossing a ravine on a cable car, or crossing the stream at the bottom of the same ravine in a rotten footbridge.
The other cathedral we sat in the chapel for a bit, walking in with sqeaky sandals that reminded me of the ducks that had kept us up the night before. Kelsey told the hostess I wanted to eat the ducks, and the little old lady said, I quote, ¨I kill you!¨
The basilica´s chapel was closed, but I got locked in a spooky dark alcove when Kelsey abandoned me and the elevator doors nearly pinched my arm off. I took pictures to light it up with the digital camera, and it looked like there were ghosts (semi-transparent streaks) whenever I pointed at the chapel, but not the staircase leading down to the dungeon.
We also went up a hill in a taxi to see a statue of some chick with wings. It was big. She was standing on the world.
I don´t know if the call them taquerias here, but all the places we ate in Quito were good.
Next morning we caught the 7:20 bus to Mindo, a small town that had more hostals than residents.
posted by Aaron Evans at 5:05 PM
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