Apparently, splurging on Hawaiian pizza in Baños was a HUGE mistake. I arrived to the bus station in Cuenca at 5am, with the intention of spending only one night in Cuenca before moving on to Loja, and then across the border into Peru. However, plans suddenly changed when I became incredibly ill with food poisoning from that over-priced, less-than-tasty pizza. I spent almost 48 hours in my hostel, confined to my bedroom (and the bathroom), except for three trips to the lobby to buy water and extend my reservation.
At first, I was worried that I may have caught malaria from my trip to the jungle, or that I had contracted a stomach parasite, which is not uncommon down here. Thankfully, I was able to get some good medicine from a pharmacist, but she warned me that if I wasn't better after 24 hours, I would have to see a doctor to get tested for specific parasites/diseases. However, while talking to my friend Anne a week later, I found out that she too had been sick with the same symptoms on the exact same days that I was. We ended up agreeing that it must have been the last meal we ate together before parting ways in Baños that made us both sick. Anne seemed to have gotten the worst of it though, as she ended up spending half of her vacation in the Galopagas Islands in a hospital.
During the two days and two nights I spent in Cuenca, I was only actually able to spend one morning sightseeing before the illness crept in. During that time, I visited each of the major churches and cathedrals, as well as the famous flower market and the Plaza Mayor. Then, I followed the Lonely Planet Guide Book’s advice and took a stroll down Avenida 3 de Noviembre, which follows the Tomebamba river, dividing the historical city center from the new town. Between the beautiful Spanish colonial homes and buildings that line the avenue, you can still see remnants of the old city walls built by the Incas.
I paid a visit to the Pumapungo Museum and Archaeological Park, located just off of Avenida de 3 de Noviembre. The enormous site on which the museum is built was once the religious and administrative center for the second capital of the Tahuantinsuyo empire, called Tomebamba. The area was ruled by the indigenous Kañari people, followed by the Incas, and then the Spaniards during the Colonization era. The museum is four strories tall, and had some pretty intriguing exhibits, particularly the one displaying the shrunken heads that the indigenous tribes of the area were known for creating and preserving after the sacrifice and decapitation of an enemy warrior. (The traditional ritual of human sacrifice is now prohibited by Ecuadorian law; however, many indigenous groups continue the practice during specific ceremonies as a rite of passage for young males--only now they use guinnea pig, rather than human, heads.)
The archealogical park outside of the museum was enormous and took me over an hour to walk through, even at a quick pace. It contained mazes of bushes and ruins, as well as a miniature zoo of animals native to southern Ecuador both currently and during the reign of the Incas. Besides the same animals I saw in the Amazon and in Baños--monkeys, parrots, toucans, parakeets, cockatoos, hawks, and vultures--there were also several free-roaming llamas. (Unfortunately, these pictures too were deleted before I could upload them.)
Cuenca is the third largest city in Ecuador and formally the Inca town of Tomebamba. Ecuadorians and tourists alike often claim that Cuenca is the most attractive Ecuadorian city to visit. Perhaps if I had had more time to explore it, and if Ecuador's version of Moctezuma's revenge hadn't gotten the best of me there, I may very well have agreed...
Loja, Ecuador
Lying five hours south of Cuenca, Loja is the gateway to the southern Oriente and more importantly, the Peruvian border. It is also where the anti-malaria drug Quinine was first exploited (here's your free random fact of the day). Although the city does not hold a great deal of tourist appeal, it is a rather pleasant change from the larger cities which are more crowded and polluted. The town is full of white colonial architecture and is surrounded by forests and mountains, with the entrance to the beautiful Podocarpus National Park only a few miles away.
After being stuck inside a dark, gloomy room for so long in Cuenca, I decided to spend my one afternoon in Loja enjoying the great outdoors. I met up with a Couch Surfing friend named Ramon (for those who are unfamiliar with the network, their website is http://www.couchsurfing.org/), who is a Loja native, and he took me to a really pretty park, where many locals were gathered to spend their Sunday afternoon leisurely playing a game of futbol (soccer), enjoying a family picnic, or horseback riding. Ramon and his friends are all cyclists, so they suggested that we go mountain biking so that I could see more of the town and the nature that surrounded it. At first I was a bit hesitant to take them up on their offer, since I was just getting over being sick, but as my friends and family well know, I am inherently incapable of turning down almost any opportunity for adventure, no matter how big or small.
Ramon's friend owned a bike shop in the park, so I was able to rent a pretty nice bike from her for the whole day for only $4 (Yes, Ecuador's currency is now the U.S. Dollar). Although it was quite scenic, our initial ride through the town was pretty scary, first, because we had to weave in and out of crazy traffic, in a country where very few laws actually seem to be applied to its people, and second, because we were chased by an angry farmer with a gun after inadvertantly cutting through his pasture, and had to quickly find our way off of his property, dodging cattle, puddles, cow pies, and barbied wires--all on a bicycle.
Our climb up the mountain--and for that matter, the steep decent back down later that night--proved no less challenging. The base of the mountain that we planned to ride up was located on a very heavily surveillanced military base, so we were stopped several times on our way before being granted permission to pass. (Luckily, one of the Couch Surfers I was with had an uncle-in-law of high rank in the military.)
It had just rained the night before, so we all got very wet riding through the creeks on our way up, and at several points the water and mud were so deep that we had to carry our bikes. Amazingly, I managed to make it all the way up to the waterfall (our planned destination) without wiping out once, but I probably averaged at least one "close call" per minute.
Arriving to the waterfall was my favorite part of our journey, not only because it meant a break from pedalling and a chance to cool off in the stream, but also because we were next to a gorgeous pasture, where we got to watch a mare with her newborn foul, who was just learning to walk.
In a (failed) attempt to make it back before dark, we rode down the mountain and back through the city in about 1/3 the time we took to ride up it. The guys, both far more confident than I in their own abilities, sped way ahead of me down the steep, curvy road, swirving around sharp rocks and splashing through large puddles, while I lagged behind, expending every last bit of the little remaining energy I had just to maintain my death-grip on the handlebars and brakes. I was covered in sweat and blisters and could barely walk by the time I made it back to my hostel that evening, but the many incredible views I had from the mountain and my numerous memorable near-death experiences were definitely worth all the pain. Perhaps mountain biking was exactly what I needed to get over being sick and regain stamina for the rest of my journey to Hogar de Esperanza. If nothing else, the exhaustion from our bike adventure certainly helped me survive the 9 hour bus ride across the Peruvian border and the subsequent 6 hour bus ride to Trujillo the following day.
Lying five hours south of Cuenca, Loja is the gateway to the southern Oriente and more importantly, the Peruvian border. It is also where the anti-malaria drug Quinine was first exploited (here's your free random fact of the day). Although the city does not hold a great deal of tourist appeal, it is a rather pleasant change from the larger cities which are more crowded and polluted. The town is full of white colonial architecture and is surrounded by forests and mountains, with the entrance to the beautiful Podocarpus National Park only a few miles away.
After being stuck inside a dark, gloomy room for so long in Cuenca, I decided to spend my one afternoon in Loja enjoying the great outdoors. I met up with a Couch Surfing friend named Ramon (for those who are unfamiliar with the network, their website is http://www.couchsurfing.org/), who is a Loja native, and he took me to a really pretty park, where many locals were gathered to spend their Sunday afternoon leisurely playing a game of futbol (soccer), enjoying a family picnic, or horseback riding. Ramon and his friends are all cyclists, so they suggested that we go mountain biking so that I could see more of the town and the nature that surrounded it. At first I was a bit hesitant to take them up on their offer, since I was just getting over being sick, but as my friends and family well know, I am inherently incapable of turning down almost any opportunity for adventure, no matter how big or small.
Ramon's friend owned a bike shop in the park, so I was able to rent a pretty nice bike from her for the whole day for only $4 (Yes, Ecuador's currency is now the U.S. Dollar). Although it was quite scenic, our initial ride through the town was pretty scary, first, because we had to weave in and out of crazy traffic, in a country where very few laws actually seem to be applied to its people, and second, because we were chased by an angry farmer with a gun after inadvertantly cutting through his pasture, and had to quickly find our way off of his property, dodging cattle, puddles, cow pies, and barbied wires--all on a bicycle.
Our climb up the mountain--and for that matter, the steep decent back down later that night--proved no less challenging. The base of the mountain that we planned to ride up was located on a very heavily surveillanced military base, so we were stopped several times on our way before being granted permission to pass. (Luckily, one of the Couch Surfers I was with had an uncle-in-law of high rank in the military.)
It had just rained the night before, so we all got very wet riding through the creeks on our way up, and at several points the water and mud were so deep that we had to carry our bikes. Amazingly, I managed to make it all the way up to the waterfall (our planned destination) without wiping out once, but I probably averaged at least one "close call" per minute.
Arriving to the waterfall was my favorite part of our journey, not only because it meant a break from pedalling and a chance to cool off in the stream, but also because we were next to a gorgeous pasture, where we got to watch a mare with her newborn foul, who was just learning to walk.
In a (failed) attempt to make it back before dark, we rode down the mountain and back through the city in about 1/3 the time we took to ride up it. The guys, both far more confident than I in their own abilities, sped way ahead of me down the steep, curvy road, swirving around sharp rocks and splashing through large puddles, while I lagged behind, expending every last bit of the little remaining energy I had just to maintain my death-grip on the handlebars and brakes. I was covered in sweat and blisters and could barely walk by the time I made it back to my hostel that evening, but the many incredible views I had from the mountain and my numerous memorable near-death experiences were definitely worth all the pain. Perhaps mountain biking was exactly what I needed to get over being sick and regain stamina for the rest of my journey to Hogar de Esperanza. If nothing else, the exhaustion from our bike adventure certainly helped me survive the 9 hour bus ride across the Peruvian border and the subsequent 6 hour bus ride to Trujillo the following day.
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