Alturo

Cotopaxi dominates Latacunga

On the buses we are a captive audience.  About 5 minutes after the bus hits the highway, a salesman will stand in the aisle and demand our attention as he begins his carnival side show barking, selling anything from ginseng, yoga and perfume to designer watches and sunglasses.  We play the “no hablo espagnol” card.  But you must give them credit for stamina – their pitches sometimes last a full hour.

Big buses weave tiny roads.

Our first bus ride took us to Latacunga a mid-sized town sitting below Cotopaxi, which at 19,350’ is a landscape-dominating strato-volcano that has destroyed Latacunga 4 times.

  Somehow this does not seem to faze the good folks of Latacunga, who simply rebuild their churches and put their faith in their gods – currently of the Christian brand.  Here we ate well, slept well and fortified ourselves for our time at altitude.

Leaving Latacunga, we spent four days in the high country of the Andes at altitudes around 13,000’ gasping for breath while walking about the villages.

Ingrid looks into Quilotoa's crater.

Isinlivi sits in a rich green valley at a moderate 11,000’ -- a bit of a Shangri La where the sounds and sights of spring abound: hummingbirds the size of a man’s fist, bright yellow thick-billed birds and flowers dripping everywhere.  Unfortunately, this is where Ingrid discovered the altitude exacerbated her asthma and our hiking was limited.

Tuesday we met Chugchillan, the ugly sister.  With only 50 inhabitants strung along a single dry and dusty street swirling with smoke and various detritus and not a mouthful of good food to be had, it left our spirits sagging.   

These Kitchua folks are tough.

But the next day we reached Quilotoa, a pueblo in a majestic setting that takes the crown for stunning beauty as the crater in the volcano of that name shifts hues in the changing sun. 

These tiny Kitchua people are a wonderful lot.  Dark and weathered and swaddled about in layers of bright wool, the women all wear their distinctive fedoras and sometimes you can see them carrying a shovel while wearing platform heels.  The men eschew fashion and work long days in fields that hang steeply down the mountains from impossible heights without any discernible terraces.

The laguna shifts colours with the sun.

We have descended now to a much more moderate 6,500’ where it has been drizzling for two days.  Terrace weather.  Right behind our town of Banos the 16,500’ volcano Tungurahua puffs and heaves and provides the hot springs that make this town a tourist draw.  This is in spite of regular eruptions – particularly since 1999 it has been erupting every couple of years -- and we are advised not to use certain roads or hot springs.  The emergency evacuation routes are painted in huge letters on the cobblestone streets. 

Although sun might be too much to ask for, we are hoping for one more day of seismic peace and a dignified departure for Cuenca.