Wednesday morning Pablo took care of a few errands for his mom and I played with Stephi for a bit.  She was amusing as she “read” (translation:  made up) stories in a magazine to me.  She talked so fast I really didn’t know what the stories were about but she was very animated and trying to impress me.  We painted toenails and raced imaginary cars as well.  We headed in the truck for our 8 hour trip to the Esmeraldas at about one in the afternoon.  The journey was the same path we took to visit the small towns with the oldest church but we kept on going.  Once we started getting more into the jungle and out of the Andes (although technically, it is all the Andes mountains, just how it is referred to) the skylines and viewpoints became  more dramatic. 

We had only been on the road for maybe two hours.  We weren’t even quite in the jungle area yet and then it happened.  The truck broke down for real.  A few times on our journey so far the truck started to give us a little trouble.  It was like the engine was cutting out.  Then when we did a bathroom stop or food stop it would be hard to restart.  Well we hit a big stretch of traffic from overturned trucks on a rainy day and while we were stopped the truck died and we couldn’t restart it.  The engine didn’t even try to turn over.  If there had been no mechanical problems we would have been stuck in that 1 mile stretch for an hour or two anyways but we spent three and a half hours waiting for our tow truck.

Another tow truck stopped and offered to help when we were waiting for ours but $60 versus a free tow wasn’t enough to sway Pablo.  There is a good picture of the night view while waiting in the truck and getting towed that truly captured the moment.  It was pouring rain, dark and Pablo felt terrible.  I made lots of jokes and we made the best of it.  I was able to read for the first half an hour or so during daylight.  It did get a little dicey when a few crazy drivers trying to get past the traffic thinking we were what was causing the problem (nope!) actually ended up hitting the truck mirror when driving by.  No real damage but it was intense!

Eventually the real tow truck showed up and I rode in Pablo’s truck while he rode  up front on our trip to the next town.  We found a hotel a quick cab ride from the repair shop that was able to help and fix the pump the next day and we were soon on our way after a less than exciting evening.  Thursday morning the truck was ready around nine or ten and we were on our way.  Luckily the town was on the way to where we were headed.  After about an hour we were in what I would call the true jungle and it was cool to see all of the mist like cotton clinging to the sides of the steep mountainsides, the variety of plants and trees and the rivers and waterfalls. 

I took a lot of pictures.  The roads were entirely windy and I would have had a great time driving my car on them but was happy to be a passenger with the other drivers that were on the road.  This part was called the Via del Sol, Route of the Sun.  We passed a lot of busses and trucks transporting all kinds of things.  Lots of industrial traffic for such an adventurous route.  But this was the Pan-American highway and the main thoroughfare north-south through the country.  The fuel pump that had been “fixed” after determining it was the problem was not apparently fixed.  The truck worked until noon when it just died again.  We spent almost 2 hours in the hottest time of the day in the jungle waiting for a tow truck.  We were on the side of the road with no place to wander or do much but managed to crack jokes and stay upbeat while waiting. 

The tow truck took us to the next town on our journey called Santo Domingo.  We got dropped off at this questionable repair shop who didn’t have the parts to help us.  So we took a cab all the way into the city and made arrangements with a shop Pablo’s cousin knew the owner of and hunted through all the parts shops by cab to find a replacement pump.  I hung out at a karaoke bar and enjoyed a beer and my book while Pablo got the truck towed to the new shop.  We had some dinner while we waited for them to fix it and then returned to this new shop.  They had about seven guys working on it and it took them until almost nine to figure out how to install the thing and get it working.

While they were doing that I wanted to hang out at this cool small bar across the street where they were playing amazing house music.  Pablo freaked out that it wouldn’t be safe for me to cross the street (there was no traffic and no people).  I was not about to sit in the cab of the truck for 2 or more hours so I walked past the shop guard who opened the gate for me while holding his automatic rifle to go across the street.  We’re talking a place in the line of sight and not more than 400 feet away.  Even the guard looked at me like I was crazy.  Whatever.  Nothing happened.  I enjoyed a beer, listened to super cool music (360 Degree live music from Sydney, Australia streamed in online) and read more of my book. 

When I got back I told him that they were very nice there, the 2 employees who pretty much talked to each other the whole time,  and that I didn’t have any trouble.  He answered “of course you didn’t have trouble, you are a girl!”  Hmm, and I thought that was the problem to start with.  Oh well.  Glad I went!  Did I mention that this was Thanksgiving day?  I didn’t have my phone with me so borrowed Pablo’s to call my parent’s cell phone to say a quick hello to the family who were gathered and Jeff and Missy’s house.  Then we headed to Jhony’s house in the Esmeraldas and got there around 11pm.  He works the overnight shift as a military guard there so our late arrival was not a problem. 

I did note in my “napkin” of notes some observations I’d made at this point in my trip and here they are: 

• Garbage trucks are like the musical Ice Cream Joe trucks we have.  In every city the garbage trucks pipe out this happy music I guess as a last minute reminder that it is garbage day. 
• Most work everywhere is done by hand everywhere—farming, mounting tires (quite the difference from how I’ve seen it done), cleaning, everything. 
• Lots of variety in types of plants and trees in jungle.  From conifers to palms, ferns to vines—very diverse. 
• Colors of flowers were intense and tropical mostly red, purple and yellow, vibrant. 
• Beer very, very cheap.  50 cents to $1 for big  bottle      
• 10 pack of cigarettes is 80 cents      
•  Food is cheap, tech stuff pricey--$60 for 1 gig memory card, $15-20 in states      
• Tons of taxis about $1 a ride in every city      
• Driving is crazy but they are all really polite about it. 
• I am only white person and only blonde.

Friday was a cooler day to start and overcast so I was a little worried it might not be the best beach weather.  Turns out that’s just what the mornings are like before ten or eleven.  We got up and I enjoyed a nice (and first) warm-water shower while the boys washed the truck.  Jhony had just gotten back from work and we got to spend a few hours with him.  He’s a nice guy, I would guess in his late 40’s and a long time family friend.  I’m a little confused that maybe he is Margi’s ex-husband because there were a few pictures of Santi and Stephi around and I know her ex lived in this area.  I couldn’t come up with a nice time or way of asking the question. 

After Jhony’s (yes, that’s how his name is spelled) we headed to the beach.  We got a hotel for two nights for $20 a night.  It was a nicer place and had air conditioning and cable, nice bathroom so cost more than the average $10 or $15.  Plus this was a touristy area.  Location was great about a block or so from the beach in the center of Atacamas, one of the beach towns of the Esmeraldas.  We had breakfast at a little beach joint that had an enormous flat screen TV playing some American movie and chuckled at their beach-themed nativity.  It was getting close to Christmas.

We changed into swimsuits and then headed to the beach to just relax.  It was heavenly.  Spent a little time in the sun to get a little color but it got hot pretty quickly.  Dipped in the sea and loved the warm water.  Wow was it warm.  Could have stayed there all day.  When not in the water or spending a few minutes on my sarong in the sun we were under a cabana umbrella that turned out to be run by Roman a 21year old friend of Pablo’s. 

Pablo met him two years before on a trip where he lost his wallet.  Roman helped him out and gave him a few bucks and a place to stay until he could get his stuff together.  He ran into him last year as well and now this year.  Roman was a fun, friendly guy.  And a bit buzzed all the time.  Roman’s entire life consisted of chilling at the beach every day in swim trunks, under the cabana or in the water selling beer to people.  He had a cheap Styrofoam cooler and kids would bring fresh cold beers and refill it whenever he signaled.  He bought the beers for about 50 cents and sold them for a buck a piece.  Didn’t seem like there were that many people at the beach but he sure sold a lot.  Pablo bought a lot for us, for him and for other people we met.  Then we met his 16 year old girlfriend and their 10 month old daughter.  She was nice and we were able to talk a bit.

We spent a little time wandering the area after we’d gotten enough surf and sand.  Later that evening we headed over to Roman’s apartment for dinner.  The apartment or whatever was a room with a few dividers a sink, toilet and a bed.  Not much in it except for a stereo system and a table and chairs.  Oh and more beer.  Roman’s mom had cooked rice and fresh crab in some seaweed water broth.  It was tasty but I really only ate the rice because I was too nervous to eat local food.  Too many health warnings.  Better to be safe than sorry.

One thing that caught my attention when I was there is that everything always pretty clean.  No dirt places, everyone wears white or very light clothes and even though I have not a clue where Roman and the folks that lived there do their laundry, every day their clothes looked brand new clean.  They must have great detergent!  After dinner we explored the bars of the beach.  It wasn’t very crowded, in fact it was very empty and felt more private.  This was the off season.  The bars were very beachy-bohemian, with salsa and reggae beats, and had cool decorations including lots of swings for chairs.  I loved the swings!

We wandered the beach and I took pictures in the water until a bad guy tried to steal it from me.  I tried to knee him, he bit me on the shoulder and then I gave him an uppercut that connected.  I was hollering for Pablo who was lying on the beach only a few hundred feet away during this and the guy finally ran off—without my camera.  That incident ended the night for me so we went back to the hotel and called it a night.  Too bad because I was still hoping that at some point we’d get to salsa dance but wasn’t looking to likely at this point.

On Saturday we slept in and hit the beach by lunch time.  After a bit of relaxing there we strolled the entire boardwalk and visited an aquarium at the far end of the boardwalk.  Next we went to arrange a boat ride to see the far end of the beach in a few hours.  Jhony had a friend meet us at the hotel so that he could try to figure out the truck problem because, yes, there were still problems.  After his taking a good look at it there was a short in the electrical line to the pump.  So all of that fixing and replacing was wasted money.  He fixed the power problem and it was like magic.  Although I’ll admit we still listened very intently to every sound that truck made the rest of the trip.

When we went back to the beach for the boat ride we were really excited.  Pablo had negotiated the $26 posted price per person down to $8 for the both of us.  Yeah, negotiating is very necessary for everything that isn’t a restaurant or little store in a building.  We were told it was going to be very few people but as we trekked through waist-high waves to get to the boat and climb in there weren’t even enough life jackets for us.  It looked like a giant death-trap.  We hadn’t even tried to sit down and they were ready to take off.  We refused to stay on the boat no matter how hard they tried and eventually got off.  They were mad but we were happy to be alive.  The boat didn’t look to be in great condition and the life jackets were a joke.  Roman’s friend hadn’t given such a great deal.

When we came back in another guy came up to us and said he’d give us a private ride on the same kind of boat for $6 to the same place.  We saw the boat and life jackets in better condition and that it would be us and his son and took him up on the offer.  We were right with the other boat most of the time and they kept trying to show off like their tour was better but we knew better.  The shore line was pretty and there really wasn’t much to see other than a big rock and another beach without people on it.  Then we went in a little inlet where we saw young boys on a fishing boat messing around.  The inlet was neat, full of mangroves that dipped into the water and herons tucked in the trees.

We made it back safely and went to O’Mar for dinner then to Sua, the next town down by car, to check out their waterfront views from a two story bar.  Was low key.  We had to go to bed early for our 3:30am departure time the next morning but went back to the same cool bar to enjoy more of their creative concoctions.  The amount of effort and work they put into each drink was impressive to watch and tasty to drink. 

Sunday we got up early as I said for the 8 hour drive back to Riobamba.  We still had little threats of problems with the truck making funny noises and trouble starting but it held up for us.  I didn’t realize until we got back to Riobamba that we were hurrying so we could leave at 11am for a soccer game.  Margi and the kids were waiting for us and we headed over.  Pablo hung out with his friends and got a bit drunk while I hung out with Margi and Stephi, who spent the time playing with my hair and drawing on my program. 

We had to wait for Pablo to come out after the game and then he returned to the house with us.  Then he said he was going to run to a friend’s for 30 minutes to take care of something and told me to be ready to go when he got back.  We were going to take advantage of the last bit of daylight so I could get my pictures of Riobamba.  I was ready but he didn’t show up for three hours—well I gave up after three hours of waiting.   

No one was around and I was terribly bored, and ticked, so I left to find a place for dinner and stopped at an internet café.  It sucked because there was not much open on a Sunday night.  I ate some Italian and actually saw some Europeans, a few of who spoke English, but I didn’t talk to them.  Was a surprise since the only English I’d heard was on TV.  Eventually Pablo and Santi found me and the night ended early since I was leaving to go home the next day.

He had burned his pictures from his camera for me onto CD’s for me which was great.  I had known for awhile that I was not going to continue anything past this trip but a possible friendship with him so the likelihood of my getting those pictures once he got back to Madrid were very slim.  And he took some great pictures.  I was good and burned mine for him along with some other music and sent it to him when I got home. 

Monday morning we had a quick breakfast and then hurried around to all of the scenic spots I had wanted to get pictures of in Riobamba from the first full day there.  And we stopped at a spot so I could get a few souvenirs for me like a wall hanging, table runner and little doll.  Not much but I picked the things that reminded me of the area and the people.  We gave ourselves plenty of time and took a different, and very reliable car, to the airport in Quito. 

There was no traffic so we got there in plenty of time.  When we got to Quito we parked at the airport and then walked to a little store so I could buy 21 illegally burned music CD’s for only $20.  Hey, if they weren’t good it was only $20.  Got lots of salsa Pablo picked out for me and some techno stuff.  Turned out to be an interesting mix with some good and some bad.  Worth the gamble though!  We had enough time for a quick bite and then said our goodbyes at the airport.  It wasn’t a sad goodbye or anything.  Just quiet and a lot of thanks for a good trip.  We both knew that would likely be the last we see each other. 

The trip back was very uneventful and happened and in the reverse of my arriving.  Only difference was that I spent like 8 hours overnight in the Los Angeles airport on a metal bench outside of a closed McDonalds curled up with my luggage that I had locked to the bench.  It was cold, uncomfortable and sucked.  Highlight was that I finally had a chance to call and talk to my roommate, Chris, and chat for over two hours catching up on things.  It was really handy that he was still working the late shift because we didn’t start talking until after 11pm. 

My mom picked me up from the airport around 10am and I had originally planned to go to work that day.  I was too tired to do that because I’d gotten so little sleep.  When I got home I was greeted by a phenomenal bouquet of flowers on my stairs from Chris.  Wow, what a great homecoming.  Then I discovered all of these frogs decorating my room and surrounding a very thoughtful card.  Not going to share all of the details from here (and there is quite the wonderful story that starts here). . . but I will say that I am so glad things turned out the way they have and I have never been happier in my life!

My real adventure began when I got back to Seattle and it is the best ever!  Thank you Christopher!