From Cuenca, I went to Guayaquil, where I met again Eloisa, the lady known at the “Mitad Mitad del mundo,” the one of the cockroaches photo. From there, I returned to Quito, where I met again Sandra, the girl of the first forest tour.
After, I returned to Colombia, retracing the same road where, one month ago, I was searched by police 3 times in an hour. However, this time, nobody cared about me, maybe because not even Dekaro can be so stupid to import drugs in Colombia.

Guayaquil by night. It’s the first city in Ecuador by population, about 3 million and two hundred thousand.

Until a few years ago, it was a pretty dangerous city without anything beautiful. Today is safer and modernized, especially the area along the Malecon, on the river, and the hill of Las Penas, from where I took these photos.

The end of Malecon, south.

Boats at Playas, a beach about 60 km from Guayaquil, where I went with Eloisa. On the Pacific Ocean, which I will reach again soon in Central America.

In Playas, nearly every boat has a painting of a saint or a Madonna for protection. And practically all have the symbol of Barcelona football club. But there is one minor difference, the symbol of (true) Barcelona has the letters FCB. The fake has BSC. Indeed, the football team in Guayaquil has shamelessly plagiarized the Barcelona team. Apart from the symbol, it has even called its team: Barcelona! Unfortunately for them, however, they have totally failed to plagiarize the rose of players and style of play, because for that… you need money!
To make everything even more absurd, the team of Quito said, “oh well, you did that? Then, we steal their jersey!” Which is, in fact, identical to that of Barcelona (Spain).

When the fishermen came back to shore, many birds came to eat fishes caught in their nets.

Fishermen pull the nets.

A dog runs back and forth trying in vain to drive away the birds.

As in the Hitchcock movie: The birds.

This bird was curious. Of a different species from the others and much smaller, with its call terrorized birds four times bigger, making them flee for taking the most delicious morsels. Even in front of me showed an unabashed fearlessness.

The entrance to Barrio La Ronda, in Quito. A street with plenty of bars.

Quito at dusk. In the background, the Panecillo, a hill with a giant statue of a winged Virgin, always visible (in the picture isn’t yet lit).
I went up there with Sandra, and we dined at a beautiful restaurant, with a window from which we could see all Quito at night, hundreds of thousands of tiny lights set over the hills.

Me, under the statue of Panecillo. I hold a glass of “canelazo”, a sort of hot cocktail with fruit and aguardiente. At the restaurant, we had warm wine with a slice of orange inside.

Back in Colombia, in front of the spectacular Sanctuary Las Lajas, in Ipiales, on the border with Ecuador.

Many pilgrims come to visit the shrine, sometimes asking miracles or healings to the Virgin.

A street near the sanctuary.

Ipiales’ market.

A girl at the market.

People at the market.

Now I am again in Pasto, a city for some reason snubbed by the “Lonely Planet South America” guide, which mentions it only in a note on how to arrive in Ecuador. Instead, it is pretty and pleasant to stay, certainly much more than other cities described with many pages.

From Banos, I went to Puyo, where begins the Amazon, which I visited with a guide. After, I moved into a hut of a family of Kichwa indigenous, inside their village. It was a small village of fewer than 100 people with many children wandering and playing.
The landlord was around in the forest searching for food, and his daughter, a little girl named Brigitte, accompanied me to the village to see the meeting room where they take decisions, the school, and various animals that live there: an alligator, a parrot, a nocturnal monkey, and a giant rat, a little crazy maybe because in a cage.

Before dark, the landlord returned with an armadillo caught by his dog, that had dug inside the hole where it was sleeping. The family cooked it. I’m vegetarian, so I ate rice, palmito (white filaments, fresh and soft, taken from the trunk of the palm), and yucca, a vegetable similar to potatoes.
In the evening, when it was already dark, I went to sleep upstairs in the hut. As always, it’s really nice to sleep in the forest for the concert of sounds from nocturnal animals that start with the setting sun. Sounds that resonate thanks to the total silence all around. There was a giant full moon. I fell asleep soon, and I woke up in the middle of a roaring tempest. The hut was wholly enveloped by a cloud.

The next morning, at 7, the landlord woke me up for another tour in the forest. He told me to get ready and go down. He said that he was busy, but I would have done the tour with his eldest son. But the bed called me back, and I fell asleep again. Then arrived Brigitte. She told me to get up to do the tour with her and two other siblings because no one knew where his big brother was at the moment. But I fell asleep again.
I woke up with kids all around, I was still half asleep, and the scene seemed surreal, with all these children repeating: “Giovanni, wake up!”, “Giovanni, wake up!”
I didn’t want much to wake up, I tell the truth. And also, why all this rush? I know that there is this terrible problem of deforestation, but even sleeping a few hours more for sure I could still manage to visit it.

Anyway, I finally went into the forest around there with Brigitte, a sister, and a brother. They were excellent, I have to say. They paved the way with machetes and knew all the plants and trees and their possible use.
All that vegetation that appeared to me as a confused green tangle had a utility for them. As food, as medicine, to make soap, to wash clothes, for painting their faces, to make necklaces, to build huts, to make baskets, etc. …

This reminded me of an old idea: to create a community where we work the minimum necessary to help Mother Earth feed us. And at that point to say fuck off to all the corporations that enslave us and to the states that steal us what is left, with taxes used just to pay the cops for beating us when we protest.
Nothing original, of course, since ever the smartest organize in that way, but seeing it now concretely, I’m convinced that it is indeed achievable. I don’t like to work anymore. I just want to laze during the day and drink wine the night by a bonfire.

“And to travel, how are you going to do?”
Well, guys, we can’t have everything…
“But you didn’t think of us? Your blog readers? What will we read after? If the hen has laid an egg or not?”
Eeeeh, I know, I know, my dear readers, but there are thousands of travel blogs, don’t be afraid of that. Undoubtedly not as brilliant, not with such beautiful pictures, not with such sharp analysis, jaunty humor, freshness, and originality of style… yes, I know, most of them seem like little wankers, you’re right, but what can I do? Can I continue to travel the world like a spinning top? Mhmmm, but in the end, why not? Ok, we will see, we will see… Now the photos.

Woman with daughter in Puyo.

A tapir caressed by Sandra, a girl from Quito with whom I had the forest’s first tour.

Flying on a liana.

And with a typical boa on. In short, the usual bullshit you do in the Amazon rainforest.

With Sandra on the bridge leading to the village where I slept.

Children in the indigenous village.

The head of the village.

Brigitte with a flower.

The armadillo caught for dinner.

Dogs around the pot where the armadillo is cooked.

Parrot.

Girls painting their faces with the seeds of a fruit. The next day I surrendered to their requests, and I accepted to having my face painted too.

A stream in the forest.

Black-red seeds.

Cuenca, Ecuador’s third-largest city, is a beautiful colonial city. It is located at 2500 meters altitude. Before being conquered by the Incas first and the Spaniards soon after, it was an important city of the Cañari, one of the many Ecuador indigenous ethnic groups.

Old women in Cuenca.

Woman.

Live free! (A)

The lake Quilotoa was formed by the collapse of a volcano about a thousand years ago. The volcano has a diameter of 3.15 km and is still active. The last eruption occurred in 1799.

Most of the local women and girls wear a felt hat, even in the house.

25% of the Ecuadorian population is indigenous, composed of 13 autochthonous communities. The descendants of the Incas form the largest of these communities. They are called Kichwa, as their language, used today by about two and a half million people. The Kichwa is part of the Quechua languages, spoken by over 7 million people in Ecuador, Peru, and Colombia.

Little girl. Other photos of boys and girls follow.

Dusk.

The family that ran the posada where I stayed, near the lake. I slept in a nearby house, barely warmed by a small wood-burning stove. During the night, after the fire run out, it was very cold.

There I read a little book for children in Kichwa, Spanish and English, very well illustrated, about a Kichwa legend, the legend of the condor in love. I’ll give you a summary:

The spirit Pachakama created the universe. After that, he realized that he needed a flying messenger to communicate with the Earth.
Together with his companion Pachamama, the female spirit of fertility, and other forces of the universe (Sun, Moon, etc…), he created an egg. From it came out a little condor.
The condor immediately began to do his duty, sending messages and receiving inquiries from Earth. He used the kipus, ie colored cords, and dreams to communicate.
But after few years, the condor began to feel lonely. “Everyone has a partner, even the rabbits, only I am alone…”. So, he started to seek love.
Fluttering above the Andes, he saw a girl who grazed sheep. He immediately fell in love and, after stealing a poncho to look more beautiful, approached her.
She mistook him for a guy with pants to his knees, and after speaking at length, she fell in love as well.
Once she realized he was a condor, she was taken away from him, flying. In the beginning, she was a little scared. Still, soon she became delighted by the places below: the lake Quilotoa, the picks of Ilizinas, the Chimborazo, and the sacred volcanoes Cotopaxi and Tungurahua.
Eventually, they arrived on a kunturmatzi, one of the quarries in the high Andes, where the condor lives. He pecked her lovingly and, with each peck, feathers grew on the girl.
At her home, meanwhile, were worried. It was already night and the dog, who had seen where they went, drove the girl’s family and the entire village to the nest of the condor. Once there, the villagers sent away the condor and recovered the girl.
Back in her house, the parents locked her inside, but the girl, burning some straw, managed to send a message to the condor, which came back and took her again with him.
This time they flied up until a very high kunturmatzi. There, the condor pecked her lovingly, and feathers grew on her. When the villagers reached this nest, she was already completely transformed into a bird, a female condor, and her parents had to accept the fate. Pachakama and Pachamama were happy about this because from now on, there is a greater connection with the people of Earth to send and receive messages.
And still nowadays, when a girl goes to graze, the parents warn her: “Beware of the condor!”

Little girls peel potatoes in Zumbahua, the closest town to Lake Quilotoa.

Banos it’s a peaceful resort, surrounded by steep mountains all around. One of its main attractions is the thermal baths.

Ecuador is full of volcanoes, including Chimborazo, 6310 meters, no longer active, and the Taita Cotopaxi, 5897 meters, one of the highest active volcanoes in the world, a sacred place of the Andean Kichwa.
The volcano near Banos is Tungurahua. And I’ve just discovered something curious: looking now on the Internet to see when it erupted last time I found that happened three days ago, on April 30, when I was already here! (link: http://www.volcanodiscovery.com/tungurahua/news.html ). It seems there were earthquakes, tremors, pillars of smoke, ashes, but I haven’t noticed anything!

In Banos, it is possible to do many activities like rafting, climbing the canyon, bungee jumping, etc. … I did the “canopy” (as this Argentinian guy in the photo), which consists of flying down into the valley, hooked on a wire cable.
I had done it already in Warsaw, where, however, the route was short and the scenery not spectacular.
Here the cable was 1 km long, and the flight lasted about a minute. Unlike what you might think, it was not a scary experience, and, actually, it was relaxing. I flew silently, just above a river.
Anyway, I don’t think that the mandatory helmet would help if falling from that height.

Later, I discovered that more than a helmet, I could have been saved by a magic spell, as you can see in this painting in the main church of Banos. In fact, back in June 1889, something similar happened to Mr. Paulino Gavilanes. However, after pronouncing the words “Madre mia de Agua Santa” (“Mother of the Holy Water”), he was caught and carried to safety by the Holy Virgin.
Well, we must recognize that the legend of the condor is much better than this bullshit.

An odd church on the road that, from the mountains of Banos, goes down for about 40 km to the forest. Full of waterfalls and beautiful scenery. It is enjoyable to do on a bike, also because it is mostly downhill.
And for coming back up? To come back, I hitched a ride on a truck. Eeeehhhh, not stupid dekaro!

The most beautiful place along the way is the Diablo (devil) waterfall.

You can get very close, up to where the water springs. It’s impossible to describe the feeling of strength and energy that emanates the jet. It was at its fullest because we are at the end of the rainy season (and in fact, since I arrived in Ecuador, is raining a lot).

Crawling under a path inside the rock, you can reach a small area behind the waterfall. There, you feel blended with the mighty force of nature, a continuous roar, almost mesmerizing.

This is, instead, the cascade of the Virgin of holy water, and, indeed, compared to that of Diablo, is docile and shy. It is located right next to the thermal baths of Banos.

Candles in honor of the Virgin of Holy Water in the main church of Banos.

 
And that’s all for this time. Kisses!

Otavalo comes alive on Saturday when the whole center becomes a giant market, mostly indigenous, from the square Los Ponchos all around until out of town, where there is the most interesting part: the animal market , with pigs, sheep, chickens, dogs, cats, alpacas, guinea pigs, etc. …

Child selling a dog.

Another child with dog.

Pig.

“From a certain age, I abjured eating meat, and the time will come when men such me will consider the killing of animals as the killing of men.”
-Leonardo da Vinci

Some women were there with just one animal to sell.

Cats in cage.

Woman bought a kitten.

Alpaca.

Little pigs meet each others.

People.

Guina pigs.

Child caressing a sheep.

Two women.

The cockfighting is more or less as you would imagine it or as you saw in some Hollywood movie. From a small door behind the curtains of the market, I came into a dirty and cramped place, with people a bit shady and dollar bills passing back and forth for betting…

Each cock has a coach (I guess it’s also its owner) who spurs him during the fight. Like football coaches, each of them has his own style: from those stressed all the time to those who remain impassive.
Even the cocks have their own fighting style: some were constantly thrilled and continuously pecking. In contrast, others preferred to remain almost stationary to dodge, for suddenly starting quick pecks at the opponent’s neck.

The bad thing is that the match ends with the death of one of the two cocks . If I knew it before, I would haven’t gone. But there is no doubt that the fight has its charm. It seems something from another time.

The last match I saw was the most beautiful, also because it ended in a draw, so both cocks were saved. Looking at the two coaches, I was curious to know who would have won: one was a big braggart that also incited the audience, the other seemed like an Eastern sage, quiet and focused.
In the first minutes, the braggart ran around the ring even more than his rooster, spurring with sweeping gestures and shouting, while the other coach almost didn’t participate.

However, after about 5 minutes, they both started to behave similarly, giving just some silent advice to their cocks, from time to time.
At about three minutes left (on 10 total), the fight became very harsh. The two roosters pinched each other with ferocity and violence, without thinking to defend themselves, and the public became excited. There are some rules that I didn’t understand because sometimes the referee stopped the match, as in a boxing break, sparking protests from coach and fans or, vice-versa, he was requested to interrupt for some irregularities.
At the last minute, the two cocks were exhausted and bleeding, almost couldn’t fight, and even the coaches knew it would end in a draw and didn’t spur them anymore.

Quito, the capital of Ecuador, is located 2800 meters above sea level. The beautiful historical center, the “Old Town”, is mainly composed of colonial buildings.

A traditional dancer at “Plaza Grande” in Quito, where is located the government’s palace. Here, almost every day, demonstrators demand their rights or protest against government decisions. Indigenous, animal rights activists, trade unionists, etc…
I was told that often president Correa comes out to discuss directly with the activists.

The church of San Francesco. In the historical center of Quito, there are many baroque churches, extraordinary notably inside. Their style is unique, “the school of Quito”, born from the fusion of indigenous and Spanish styles, including Moorish.

One foot in one hemisphere and one foot in the other, at “mitad del mundo” (half of the world).

I don’t know why Ecuador got this sort of “copyright” related to the equator. A quick view on the world map shows that it crosses at least 10 countries. So why has Ecuador taken its name, the heritage site “mitad del mundo”, the various museums on the equator, and so on? Yes, I will be more critical with the report of the places I visit from now on. Many things still don’t add up.

At the “mitad del mundo” I met two very nice ladies from Guayaquil, the second-largest city in Ecuador. Here we were in a small museum there, dedicated to insects and where it’s possible to play with giant cockroaches.

The experiment of the egg on the equator. The egg is balanced on the head of a nail. And indeed it is true, it doesn’t fall, but I never tried to do it elsewhere, so I don’t know if this is possible only there, and, actually, I’m skeptical. Please try it for yourself and let me know. Worst-case scenario: omelet for dinner.

I answer the comment:
Thank you Yannick! And good luck with the Chelsea final!

After San Agustin, I took the road from Mocoa to Pasto, spectacular and dangerous. Rocky walls with dense vegetation, hundreds of meters high, sloped down to the river, which flowed into a strait below. There were many waterfalls, with their water sometimes crossing our narrow dirt road. The view from up there was amazing.
However, it was also scary. The wheels of the bus were constantly on the edge of the road. Looking out the window, I couldn’t see the road below, only the cliff. When we met another vehicle began complicated maneuvers, often in reverse, to pass both.
When it became dark, it was even worse. It started heavy raining, with very low visibility and the road became mud. At that moment, I also remembered that in those areas, on the border with Ecuador, it’s dangerous to travel at night for the risk of being attacked by armed bandits, as it happened a few years ago at an Italian guy that I met in Santa Marta, Oscar.
However, in the end, all right, and after a day in Pasto, I arrived at the border.

I had my passport stamped for exit from Colombia, and I was already walking to Ecuador when a big rude Colombian policeman called me for a search.
This time they also checked the two main pockets of the photo-backpack, the ones that in my last post, jokingly, I said were hiding 3 kilos of cocaine. In reality, however, they contain something perhaps even more valuable: the red panties of Joyce. Not so much for Joyce, a Brazilian girl with whom I stayed more than 10 years ago, but because it seems to me that these panties bring good luck. So I keep them always with me (not wearing, of course )
In many controls, a bit ‘all over the world, when found, the policemen had always been very professional. But professionalism does not seem home in Colombia… he started laughing “Ah ah ah ah ah, I didn’t think… you didn’t seem … ah ah”. No, wait, those are from a Brazilian girl… that you could just dream in the night, maybe in your lonely wanks (actually at the end I didn’t add this last part of the sentence, because I’m always careful to not saying something that might hurt).
“Mhmm … true? True?” Of course it’s the truth! Anyway, are we here to find drugs or to talk about lucky charms? And please stop enlarging them with your ugly hands for observing from all angles…
Finally, shortly after, the search ended, and I arrived in Ecuador.

I took a bus from the border towards Otavalo. About 10 minutes later: stooop. The police came up on the bus and checked everybody’s documents. After that, me and some people had to go down for a search.
Again, they searched above all my photo-backpack. And again especially on the same side, the rear for the laptop.
So, an advice for any would-be drug traffickers: never put it there!
In a previous search, they had pulled out the internal parts of my bag, breaking them. This time the policeman made tiny holes inside it with a boxcutter. When I protested, he said: not worry, no break, no break … and in the meanwhile kept puncturing it with his knife. Dunno, maybe “break” has another meaning for them.
Meanwhile, he was pulling Zeus, the police dog, to sniff these tiny holes. But Zeus didn’t show any interest, he was sniffing around like crazy, except my backpack, and despite the policeman was forcefully pushing his head inside, there was no way, nothing that would attract his sniffing, not even Joyce’s panties, until a boy, a bit ‘strange, also in line for the checking, gave him a kind of pudding on which he jumped to devour it, among the desperate cries of the policeman “noooo what have you done? Now he will not sniff anymore!”. And, amid the general laughter, also this search finished.

I went back on the bus, and we left. About one hour later: stoooop. Again the police on the bus, again a check of everybody’s documents, but this time I had the honor to be the only one to go down for the search. Very long, on both backpacks, with the driver protesting, “he has already been checked!” “Don’t meddle… let us do our job…”.

So, with 4 searches, I strongly advise to not bring drugs within 200 km of the border between Colombia and Ecuador. And if you really must, at least remember to always carry with you a pudding to donate to the dog.

Bird statue in San Agustin.

It is said that this sculpture represents the “Double-self”: the warrior with the spirit of the animal that guides him.

Muuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu.

A street in San Agustin. If you happen to go there, don’t miss the Italian restaurant of Ugo, a nice Italian guy who even offered me dinner.
To reach him, ask Anibal, a local guide (if you don’t find him, he will find you). He will be happy to take you there with his motorbike, at high speed without headlights, in total darkness, and when you point it out, no problems: he will turn on the mobile phone display as a beacon. And indeed, in that context, it seemed all the light in the world.

Sugar cane.

Sugar making.

Sugar.

Writings on the City council wall against politicians in Pasto, Colombia. As almost everywhere in the world, they are not much loved by people.

And finally in… Ecuador, in the famous Otavalo market.

Woman at market.

Otavalo is located at 2500 meters and is surrounded by three volcanoes, including the Cotacachi, 5000 meters high. Still today, it is inhabited mainly by indigenous peoples, who came here in ancient times and formed a sort of confederation with other advanced communities around. They were subdued, already before the arrival of the Spaniards, by the Incas, after decades of war that led to the massacre of most of the population.

Children.

No more blood for oil.

I want you… for the revolution!

Student girls.

Otavalo women.

Man with newspaper.

At the bus station.

Child.

Abstract composition with goat in the middle.

Fruit stall.

Woman with colored background.

Mother and daughter.

One of the few families in the world still working the wool by hand, without machinery. I bought a hat from them, $2.

I reply to the comment:
Hi Yannick! My plan is to go also in all the little Central America countries (Nicaragua, Costarica, Guatemala, etc…). Not sure if I can make it, because of the money, but I think I will.