Getting out of Quito

Yesterday I decided to adventure to Otavalo. There is an amazing open-air crafts market there that has been around for hundreds of years. Seeing as Oltavalenos were the original weavers of the brightly colored textiles

Otavalo Market in Plaza de Ponchos

associated with Latin American culture, I HAD to go see it for myself. The market runs every day, with Saturday being the big day that the market overflows into the surrounding blocks of Plaza de Ponchos. I was originally planning on going on Saturday for the full blown authentic experience, but a lot of traveler's and folks from Quito talked me out of subjecting myself to such mayhem. There wasn't going to be anything there on Saturday that I wouldn't see on a Tuesday, and thieves love to take advantage of the Saturday crowds to collect their bounty, especially from gringos. Noted.

This adventure to Otavalo was a big reminder that, yes indeed, I'm traveling by myself again. I don't mean this in a 'I feel lonely boohoo' way; I mean this in a 'I'm really intimidated by new unfamiliar places with a language barrier' way. There is just a lot more research and asking around that has to be done when one travels alone and the language barrier hits a lot more rough spots. Folks back home are still dropping an obnoxious amount of concern for my safety while I'm traveling alone, but I promise there isn't anything to be worried about ... especially since I still recovering from my rafting warrior blackeye/gash situation. I figure people would think twice about messing with me, yeah? The only real difference I've noticed about traveling alone is that I have to deal with way more flirtatious men compared to when Matt or Rob were by my side. They can get pretty persistent sometimes, but I haven't felt as if my safety has ever been jeopardized because of it. Seriously though, the only crime that really happens here in Ecuador is petty theft. Yes, I still have my wits about me when I'm out and exercise my rockstar street smarts. Cool? Cool. Stop worrying so much *cough parents cough*

I woke up at 6:30am (without an alarm - why can't it be like this back home?!) and hailed a taxi to the Carcelen bus terminal (the sketchiest of the bus terminals in Quito). I walked towards the "ticket counters", which are really just men yelling over each other the names of different destinations. It's so hard to hear what they are saying, especially when you also have dozens of people coming up to trying to sell you literature and snacks for the bus ride. The buses don't really have a set departure time per say, it's just kind of when the bus is full enough for the trip to be worthwhile for the driver. There aren't really set stops either; there is another person next to the driver who hangs out of the door shouting the destination city and then yells at the driver to pull over if there are any takers. So, logically, you spend a lot of time on city streets with abrupt halts until the bus is full enough to actually go to destination you want. The scene in the terminal is chaotic, even at such an early hour in the morning. It was music to my ears when I heard 'Otavalo!' off to my left. I bought the $2 ticket for the 3 hour ride and only had to wait 5 minutes for the bus to leave - saweet! I had some whiteknuckle moments as we cruised through the twisty curvy roads of the Andes at uncomfortable speeds. But it was so beautiful! Classic South America.

Otavalo reminded me a lot of Huaraz, actually. The town is surrounded by beautiful mountains and

Otavalo at it's finest

volcanoes, although not quite as epic as the towering snowcapped peaks of the Cordilliera Blanca. Stray dogs were running around the trash covered, rundown streets. Most of the buildings were in a state of disrepair, and a lot were unfinished. (Matt and I had a good laugh about this in Huaraz: most buildings had metal rods sticking up from their roofs as if construction for additional levels suddenly came to a halt city-wide) Also like Huaraz, most of the population still wore traditional andean clothes. The women were wearing beautiful embroidered white blouses, long wool skirts, and had their hair tied back in one long braid. The men wore ponchos, rope sandals, and felt hats. Otavalo seemed a little bit wealthier and politicial than Huaraz, however. But that doesn't take away from how striking the similarities are between these two distant Andean towns.
The market was so interesting and totally met my expectations. Women were literally sitting in their booths

Alpaca handicrafts - softest stuff ever

working on a loom, embroidering various textiles, or combing through bags of alpaca wool. Talk about authentic handmade crafts - their work was absolutely stunning! It's a good thing my bag is small and i want to travel light because I would have bought so many textiles at that market. I took in all of the beautiful art around me, but like any market, I didn't last very long. My patience for persistent vendors dwindled fast and it was difficult to navigate the crowd and never ending maze of vendors' booths. I am so glad I didn't come here on a Saturday! I left the market and wandered around the town for a bit. I enjoyed my jar of peanut butter and crackers next to a lake on the outskirts of town, and then went on a short hike to see the famous magical Lechero tree. And that was Otavalo in a day!

I went to the even more chaotic Otavalo bus terminal, which was actually just a large parking lot packed with people, vendors, and stray dogs. There was one "ticketing counter" which was obviously a place where you could buy a ticket to yougotscammedville on an imaginary bus. I wonder who actually falls for those? A bus was moving through the parking lot (nearly taking out dozens of pedestrians in the process) with a man hanging out the door yelling 'Quito!'. I waived, and moments later I was sitting on a rundown bus on my way back to Quito. When I say rundown, I mean rundown in South American standards. Be worried. The shocks were so worn down we didn't even have to go over a bump for the bus to make deafening creaking noises. And when we did hit a bump, it sounded as if the bus was going to instantly turn into a car part garage sale. When we started going down the winding roads of the mountains, a strong smell of either 'no more clutch' or 'no more brakes' filled the bus. The driver actually pulled over at one point, got out of the bus, hammered away at something on the back right wheel, and continued down the mountain with an unphased look on his face. Oh, but it gets better. We hit a big speed bump when pulling into the bus terminal in Quito and the right mirror fell off the side of the bus and shattered in the street below. You can't make this stuff up, people! I laughed to myself at how I manage to get myself into these situations in the first place. When I got off the bus, the driver made some creepy comment and offered to take me salsa dancing that night. Classic. Solid day.


That night I hung out with other travelers in my hostel and single handedly destroyed a pair of obnoxious Australian dudes in beer pong (they had 9 cups remaining). Suckers! You see a lot of people come and go when you stay in the cheap 8 bed dorm rooms, but I kind of enjoy the insane flux of travelers. The two new roommates yesterday were a super adorable English couple, Max and Polly, on a 2 month trip from England. They were in great spirits considering Max's backpack with his passport, camera (with hundreds of non-backed up pictures), credit cards, phone, etc had just got stolen off of him in an internet cafe. That sucks. I've heard so many stories like this from other travelers, with lost pictures being the most heartbreaking loss of all.

John (a rather entertaining Canadian) and I went out to dinner in the Mariscal District last night. And guess what?! WE FOUND MEXICAN FOOD!!!!! I started craving mexican food since the day I left Portland. I was practically crying tears of joy when a dude in a sombrero was standing outside of his Mexican restaurant offering to show us the menu. I downed my body weight in guacamole and vegetarian fajitas that were even better than those at ChaChaChas! I was in heaven! John clearly didn't understand how deep my LOVE for mexican food is. Seriously, what more do you need in life than avocados, veggies, and hot sauce anyway?!?!

I had such a restful night of sleep which is an impressive feat in a room with 7 other people, a busy street next to the window, and a light that somehow still flashes once every 10 seconds when the switch is off. Right now I'm on a 3.5 hour bus ride to Mindo. I navigated the Ofelia bus terminal early this morning and turned down yet another offer to go salsa dancing from my taxi driver. The bus is way too bouncy to tackle the logic puzzles book that Matt gave me, so I figured it was a great time to write up another blog post for you all. Mindo is in a climate called a cloud forest which is essentially just a term describing a heavy fog that sits at the canopy level in subtropical and tropical rainforests. And for those of you who know how much I LOVE clouds - I couldn't be more stoked to be ziplining through the canopy of a cloud forest. Anyways, I challenge you to find a map of Mindo. Google maps sucks in Ecuador!

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I arrived at my hostel which is super adorable and has a friendly border collie 'security officer'. My first

impressions of Mindo are very positive! For being a cloud forest, I sure wasn't expecting a sunny, hot, and humid weather that I last felt when I was in the jungle in Peru! Mindo is tiny little town that wasn't even in my guide book but I'm so glad I came. It's surrounded by rainforest and has more butterflies and hummingbirds than I can handle :) I love it! I wish I were staying more than 2 days. Ok gotta run! Going to spend my afternoon hiking and repelling down waterfalls. Life is so hard.