Ecuador Adventure

Three days ago, I was in a frenzy; frantically packing last minute orders and haphazardly throwing things into a suitcase to leave on a three week adventure to Ecuador. This afternoon, during siesta time, I am relaxed and typing the first of my blog on the veranda of our thatched bungalow at La Selva Jungle Lodge.

Thursday, June 25 - Arriving at this state has involved nearly two days of traveling, but the journey is much of the reward. We begin our trip on a red eye flight from S.F.O. to Miami. Art and I sleep much of the five-hour flight with the help of Ambian, but John stays awake watching movies and is red eyed at 7:30 A.M. when we land in Miami. With an eight hour lay over, we decide to go to South Beach for breakfast. An cheerful, airport information woman, directs us to the J bus and one hour, and one transfer later we are walking along the famous South Beach promenade. We breakfast at the Front Porch Restaurant; a white awning shading us and ceiling fans circulating the still morning air. The temperature is rising and the reflected light washes out the colors of our surroundings. The breakfast before me is almost an illusion and I consider that lack of sleep is contributing to my perception of things. Fueled and somewhat energized with coffee we walk the length of the beachfront, lined with art deco hotels and restaurants. Bistro tables spill onto the sidewalk and wait persons and bar tenders busy themselves in preparation of the party that will undoubtedly unfold before the days end. Across the street are undulating palms and the white sand beach. A street vendor arranges his beaded jewelry upon a cart and I am transported momentarily to memories of setting up early morning craft shows. The other beachcombers wear minimal clothing but we are out of place, still in our traveling clothes. We dip our feet in the ocean; almost body temperature and turn to leave as a bank of dark clouds moves quickly towards us. It's time to catch the returning J bus back to the airport.

The flight between Miami and Quito, Ecuador is exactly 4 hours. Dinner is provided, and Art and I watch the movie, Last Chance, starring Dustin Hoffman. John sleeps soundly, his long lean body uncomfortably contorted in the confined space and his head resting heavily against my shoulder. Eventually, I doze, but wake to the pilots landing announcement and to the bright lights of sprawling Quito below. We are through customs quickly and happy to see all three of our bags drop onto the luggage carousel. As we exit the baggage area, I scan the gathered crowd looking for someone holding a sign that says Bobroskie or La Selva Lodge. There is no one, and my mind flips quickly through our alternatives but moments later, a small wiry man arrives holding a paper sign with Bobroskie printed boldly across it. We follow Antonio past the line of hopeful taxi drivers and stand aside as he loads our luggage into large and shiny silver Van. An Indian woman with her small child begs for money as the door of our protected metal pod closes and we drive off into the night.

Art chats amiably with our driver as we drive the 30 minutes into the heart of Quito. The Mercure Hotel is in the new part of the city and after arranging for a morning pick up, back to the airport for our flight into the jungle tomorrow, we are taken up to our room on the 9th floor. The room is much nicer than I expected; a spacious corner mini suite with a view of the city beyond.. We settle in quickly, anxious to explore the city and get a late bite of dinner. We walk several long, dark blocks to the nearby club and restaurant area, which is a happening scene on a Thursday night. The TVs in all of the restaurants and bars are tuned to a significant soccer game and there is an air of excitement in the crowds spilling out onto the sidewalks and crammed into tiny hole in the wall cafes. Deciding on a restaurant for dinner is always difficult and we spend an hour wandering the district, perusing our many options and poking into both upscale and simple cafes. I stay mindful of my purse in the crowds and feel somewhat uncomfortable and vulnerable as we pass one particular club before rounding the corner to the center square. We people watch for some time, eventually retracing our steps to an earlier shwarma cafe, which has now sold out of food. John takes control of the situation and ushers us into a tiny shwarma cafe up the block. The succulent spit of chicken rotates in the open window and "to go" patrons lean on the outside counter waiting for service. Inside, 6 small wooden tables are crammed closely together, all of them occupied except for one. The crowd is young, loud and smoking and dark eyes watch us as we sit down at the only vacant table. Art orders two shwarmas, a large beer and a soda. The waiter returns without the soda but with three glasses for the beer and we concede that John may join us in a celebratory beer tonight. Many of the patrons of the cafe look no older than John and all are drinking beer and cheering on the soccer game. The shwarmas are brought to our table shortly and are so delicious that we immediately order two more. We sink into the simple ambiance of this local cafe, watching the soccer game and the people. As we walk back to our hotel, we calculate that we spent just $9.00 on dinner for the three of us. Art and I are both feeling light headed and it is not from the beer. Quito is above 9,000 feet and we have chosen not to take our altitude pills until we return to Quito in 5 days. We will be leaving the highlands in the morning and want to experience and experiment with the effects of the high altitude for one night. Art suffers more than I, with a headache and dizziness. I only feel the need to take extra deep breaths every so often and John is unaffected.