by Jane | Apr 14, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
I had met a Swiss girl whilst in my hostel in Mindo and we teamed up to go to Quito together. Martin (of the frog chorus) joined us on the bus trip back and after me and Kath had checked into our hostel (the Minka Hostel – more about this in the next post) Martin showed us around the night life sights of La Mariscal in the new town. This is an area of several streets based around a lively square, edged with restaurants and pubs and jam packed with people all out to have fun. It is knows as Gringo Corner or Backpackers Alley and is where many tourists and travellers gather both during the daytime and at night.
The following day was a Saturday and Kath was planning to visit the market town of Otovalo. I was originally going to give it a miss as it was physically impossible to put anything extra in my rucsac but I am so pleased that I changed my mind and I went along. Otovalo is said to have the biggest and best street market in Ecuador and it didn’t disappoint. It was enormous and the stalls spilled out of the main square and took over many of the surrounding streets. It was a riot of colour with stalls selling material and ceramics but the best bits for me were the different clothes worn by the local women who were sat behind the piles of merchandise.
so tempting
Many of the women wore crisp white cottons shirts with fabulous embroidery around the top half. They had long skirts made of wool – in most cases these appeared to simply be a large length of woollen cloth which they had tucked into a waistband. And hats. There were all sorts of hats but the strangest headgear appeared to be a large amount of material which had been folded down into a large square and just popped on top of the owner’s head. The majority of the ladies wore their hair long but in a single plait or a pony tail and many had wrapped a length of elaborately embroidered material around and down the length. They also had wider embroidered strips which they wore as bright belts.
a stall holder poses for me
After trawling around the market we had a bit of a wander around the other streets and then we got the bus back. We were treated to the usual violent film on the bus, and after being escorted to the correct Trole bus across the terminal by our own personal armed guard we very quickly got ourselves lost when we disembarked. I don’t know what it is about Quito but for the life of me I cannot get my bearings and I have no idea where I am for most of the time.
everything is bright and beautiful
Quito stretches along a thin valley for some forty kilometres but it is only five kilometres wide. Add to this, the fact that it is built on hills and on the sides of volcanoes which slant away from the run of the grid structure, and it contains many old streets which do not conform to the grid structure which is trying to impose some order on the map and you have a recipe for losing your way.
The following day me and Kath met up with one of my Ecuadorian friends who lives in Quito and we were treated to the most amazing guided tour of the city. If you are going to see a city, then the best way is with a local. Tanya, Daniele and Lys tried to encourage me to climb the ladders up the turrets of the Basillica (do they think that I am completely mad??), but they did persuade us to clamber high up onto a ledge in front of a massive round stained glass window for a photograph.
the Basillica
We saw the old town on a Sunday morning when many of the streets are closed and are given over to the population who walk and ride their bicycles. We popped our noses into a few of the many churches and convents and wandered around a food market sampling many of the local flavours. And then we strolled down La Ronda – a series of narrow streets which used to house poets and writers and now house artisan products, workshops and traditional restaurants.
After a lunch, in my case a warming, filling local soup called locra, we got a cab up to the top of the smallish hill called Panecillo (because it is shaped like a little loaf of bread) and we climbed up inside the large statue of La Virgen de Panecillo which dominates the skyline. The statue is made up of thousands of squares and has been constructed like a three-D jigsaw. She faces the city with her back to the south and is believed to protect the city from the volcanoes in the region.
La Virgen de Panacillo
Me and Kath returned back to our hostel and both agreed that we had been very lucky and privileged to have such amazing tour and experience in Quito.
We parted company the following day when I set off for Latacunga on my own but I left my larger rucsack behind at the hostel, as I would be returning and hopefully meeting up with my Polish friend at the end of the week.
I am becoming unhealthily focused on what I can possibly leave out of my rucsack so that I am carrying less, but it seems that this is an affliction that strikes all backpackers at some stage. Paint on carnival clothes – a good excuse to throw them out. Thousands of mozzies – great – spray on the poison – it will reduce the weight. Toothpaste finished – this is a cause for celebration until I remember that I have to buy more and that loads the grams back on.
And yes, of course I bought something at Otovalo market!
by Jane | Apr 10, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
Well, to begin with, I got lost! I went for a walk, took the wrong turning and then I ended up about a mile away from town up a dead end. But it was no big deal – after all, I was wandering around the countryside just a stone’s throw from the equator and surrounded by cloud forest, many of the four hundred species of birds that live here and drifts of butterflies.
such a cutie
I finally found the right road and I hiked up and up and up. After an hour and after having turned down offers of lifts from several passing trucks I decided to check the map. Hmm – why had I not spotted the note from the nice lady in the information office earlier? Nine kilometres! And it was all uphill. Eventually I staggered to the end of the road to find my worst nightmare. The entrance to the cascadas (waterfalls) was via a suspicious looking cage suspended across the valley, hanging above the canopy of the cloud forest on wires and pulleys and driven by a car engine in a hut. The most enticing attractive Ecuadorian man hopped in and out of the cage to prove it was
this woodpecker refused to turn around
safe and promised to hold my hand all the way over – and he almost had me sold – until I then realised that I would have to walk for a minimum of another two hours the other side to get to just one of the six waterfalls and back. After my hike up the mountain I truly had no energy left, having also forgotten bring my water bottle (I was not having a good day) so regretfully I declined (although secretly I was relieved not to be trusting myself to a cable hundreds of feet up in the air) and I began the much quicker yomp back down the mountain. I got blasé and tried to look up at a vulture while breaking into a jog and tripped over my walking boot. I KNEW I was having a bad day and sprawled out in the middle of the road I turned the air blue as I mopped the blood from my knees, checked out my torn trousers and swore at my damaged camera.
Arriving back in town, the power was out and it was to remain out for the rest of the day.
hummingbird mid-flight
Searching out lunch I ended up on the wooden veranda of a coffee shop which was owned by a German family. I quickly switched tables when I realised that there were hummingbird feeders hanging at the open windows which were attracting birds by the dozen. I invited myself to sit with a man who was obviously making his onward travel plans (I recognise the signs well – guide book, note book with lists of names and countless crossing-outs and concentration) and a bit later we were joined by a couple of American travellers. The birds were fascinating; with some not much larger than a big bumble bee; and they darted around and then hovered to suck the sugar mixture out of the feeders just feet in front of us.
pausing for a drink
Some had iridescent blue and green plumage, others were black and white or had red tails, but all were amazing. The afternoon flew by as we chatted and swapped tales and wondered when the best time would be to venture out into the now pouring rain.
Later that evening, myself and Martin (the planning traveller), met up again as we had arranged and we trekked a little way out of town to the Mindo Lago.
dusk falls at Mindo Lago
This was billed as the ‘frog chorus’ and we arrived at the little complex just as dusk was falling. A small veranda overlooked a couple of plant filled ponds and thick shrubs and trees pressed down to the water’s edge. After a thimbleful of wine we were given an introductory talk whilst fireflies flashed in the bushes and the noise from countless frogs picked up in volume. We then all trekked in the dark down to a narrow path around the ponds and walked through the tiny forest area whilst our guides pointed out with their flashlights the various frogs, insects and a HUGE spider. We all gathered in the pitch black and discovered how a certain bacteria on some fallen logs actually glows in the dark and as we passed around a naturally occurring glow-stick I marvelled at how wonderful the natural world can be.
One of the highlights of my stay here was the (very) early bird watching walk. You can read a more detailed report by clicking here on the link – Bird watching in the cloud forest Suffice to say I was VERY excited to see toucans in the wild!
feeding from my hand
The following day I set off on a shorter hike to the Mariposario – the butterly farm. I was given an introduction and shown some caterpillars, chrysalises with their clever camouflage and then some butterflies which had emerged just an hour or so earlier. Some of the chrysalis resembled little globules of metal – these were the ones which would hang close to water – and I was then free to wander around inside the beautiful gardens. Butterflies fluttered silently around everywhere and it was even possible to feed some. They would cling onto your finger after being enticed there by some over-ripe banana.
amazing colours
They would settle everywhere, then flicker off or hang in droves from the wooden posts or flowers. The best but the most elusive to photograph were a dinner plate sized electric blue and these drifted around epitomising the very essence of the cloud forest. I then very happily hiked back to the town where the power was out yet again.
There was a lovely little coffee shop called La Reposteria around the corner from the Bio Hostal, so I tended to camp out there when the power went out. The Swiss owner Andrea visited Mindo few years ago and never left. The coffee was always lovely and the atmosphere very calm and tranquil, and the place glowed with candlelight.
La Reposteria
It seems Mindo attracts people and then grabs them so that they don’t want to leave. It is a tiny little town but I also found another tiny little coffee shop which served the most delicious vegan and chocolate cake overlooking the river and owned by a French and Italian couple. Another delightful find was a little place called Mishqui Quinde – Sweet Hummingbird which served quinoa pudding with fruit and ice cream. Sat in the sun chatting to the owner, I was invited to climb the wooden log ladder and take a peek inside the tree house where he lives.
Mindo also serves up canopy zip-wire courses for adrenaline junkies and tubing – this is where you charge down the river sat in massive inner tubes, although I passed on both of these activities. When I arrived many of the cafes and restaurants were closed but they were busy preparing for the season and the whole town was receiving a lick of paint.
the veranda at La Casita del Arte y del Te
It is a friendly town and I could quite happily have stayed longer and tucked myself away in one of the lovely little cafes and spent my time reading and writing but the time came to move on and head for the manic city of Quito
by Jane | Mar 31, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
You can’t help but to unwind on the journey to Mindo as the road slowly unravels across the mountains. Leaving the concrete and crowds of Quito behind, the surprisingly good road curls its way up and down for a couple of hours before it drops deep down into the small town. Soft, humped-topped mountains march alongside with every square centimetre rammed with spectacular trees and shrubs.
The tiny town of Mindo
Hotels and hostels for the most part are tucked tantalisingly away inside this greenery, built sympathetically with their surroundings, and most with a large amount of space between them and their neighbours. My hostel, the Bio Hostal, was located just one block back from the main square down an unpaved road. Walking down this road with my backpack I became aware of the peace and quiet of the place, with little traffic but resounding bird songs echoing around.
The Bio Hostal looked welcoming with its bright, airy dining area set out with colourful tablecloths and gigantic squooshy beanbags over in the corner.
Squooshy beanbags
Whilst Paul was checking me in, Maria, the most delightful eleven year old came over to practice her very good English with me and Marcela her mum, who was sweeping, beckoned me over to the back door and pointed out two green parrots that were playing around in the large tree outside in the garden.
My room was a good size and with two huge windows and it was nice and bright. It was basic but squeaky clean and it contained a double bed, a desk, a hand basin, a TV and some little wooden storage units. The bathroom was tidy with a three quarter-sized bath with a shower over it, decent towels and a basic toiletry pack. I also checked out the dorm which contained just five beds (two sets of bunks and a single) – these beds were much wider than your average bunk too and it was also very comfortable.
The Bio Hostal, Mindo. Everything is half built in Ecuador – don’t let this put you off
There was some discolouration on the ceiling and the walls of my room BUT it was clear from the slightly different colours of paint that a war was being raged against the damp which was attempting to sneak in. The amount of rain that falls every afternoon is quite something and whilst a lot of the buildings in the town could no doubt be made more modern, their rustic individualism only adds to the overall charm of Mindo.
There are plenty of little nooks and crannies for you to sit and relax in at the Bio Hostal, and with lots of magazines and books to read, hammocks hanging and places to sit overlooking the garden with its bird life, it is just a nice place to be.
somewhere to relax
Breakfast is included in the price and was ample. Fresh pineapple or melon juice, a plate of fresh fruits, scrambled egg, a tasty roll or toast and jams (or marmalade to use the Spanish) with coffee or tea – more than enough to set you up for the day hiking or visiting the many sites in this tiny town.
So, what did I get up to in the Cloud Forest?
Quite a lot actually and I shall cover the individual activities in another post, but the absolute highlight for me was an early morning bird watching walk.
Rio Mindo
Now. I like birds and I can identify quite a few, but I am no expert. I really really want to see a typical multi-coloured sat in a tree whilst in South America, but when I found out that Mindo had toucans I was very disappointed not to find a guided tour that I could afford.
And then I struck gold. A walk was going out the following day and from my hotel. The guide was none other than our hostel manager and he was already planning to take a small group of guests out and there was room for me an affordable price.
We struck gold
Rising early, Irman Arias (do check out his link. He is one talented man) served us all breakfast and then, just as the dawn was breaking at six am we set off. We trekked through the deserted town as the mist rose eerily up from the forest and the bird songs were shrill and clear. We walked for close on five hours and every so often Irman would stop and set up his tripod on the track and without fail, he would hone in on a bird or three. Through the telescope even the small brown birds became interesting and we all had been given binoculars to share around too. But then, all of a sudden – sat in clear view, though I doubt any of us would have spotted it without Irman was a dazzling yellow toucan. It posed for ages for us on its branch, and was soon followed further on in our walk by a small green one, the more traditional black and red one (as adopted by a brewery) and then playing for ages in the trees about our heads a trio of multi-coloured toucans.
An amazing bird
The toucans were the highlight for me but we also saw red, yellow, blue and white birds, humming birds and a swallow tailed kite. Irman walked along, gently calling and often being answered by various birds He knew all the names and exactly where to find most of them, having lived in Mindo all his life.
Irman Arias – the amazing bird guide
As well as the birds, Mindo can offer butterflies and frogs, good coffee shops, humming birds and orchids, tubing in the river and waterfalls, as well as zip lines through the canopies and miles and miles of spectacular walks or bike trails.
The best bits
- The relaxing atmosphere created by Irman, his wife Marcela and their adorable children
- My bird watching walk
- The location – very close to the main street but far enough away to be so very peaceful
- The oh-so-comfortable bed
Would I recommend Mindo and the BioCloud hostel?
Yes – without a shadow of a doubt.
Note:- Whilst I received complimentary accommodation at the Bio hostal this did not influence my opinion or review in any way. I have portrayed an honest picture of my stay
by Jane | Mar 27, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
After the craziness of Carnival and a rapid repack of my backpack, I was boarding a bus at a half past midnight in Trujillo. My amazing friend G had come to see me off at the bus station, and after an emotional goodbye with him I settled into my almost fully reclining seat and prepared myself for nineteen hours aboard. The conductor was like a teddy bear, rotund and with waistcoat buttons straining he had a high voice and fussy mannerisms but luckily for me, he decided to take me under his wing and practice his not too bad English which allayed my fears about the forthcoming border crossing. The journey was OK as I had chosen a single seat downstairs, the films on the seatback set were not too bad and the chicken dinner was actually quite tasty. The border crossing between Peru and Ecuador was in a new building with the exit and entry points side by side, the officials were not overly officious and the teddy bear kept a paternal eye on me so it all went smoothly.
a beach hut
Once in Ecuador the bus swung away from the desert sands of the coast and the scenery almost immediately changed from khaki sand to the most emerald of greens. Banana plantations and sugar cane fields marched into the distance where lush forests took over. Dotted amongst the greenery were little houses, many on stilts and most made of bamboo and wood, with woven banana leaf walls and thatched roofs, bleached to a pale tan colour by the tropical sun. A couple of times we were stopped at road blocks and surly soldiers climbed aboard. They scowled at us and one time one took a particular interest in what was under the seat in front of me, poking and banging with a menacing looking stick, but then a little later on, another group decided that they would relieve their boredom and instructed us to identify our bags in the hold and ordered us to line up and begin to unpack them by the side of the road. Was I glad that they gave up before getting to mine – if they opened it I would NEVER have got the contents back inside. And they would have discovered my hidden stash of coco leaf tea bags. We continued to Guayaquil without further drama although I have to admit to being extremely nervous about this leg of my adventure.
Santa Marianita beach
Guide books and other travellers all stressed the dangers of the rogue taxi drivers in this city, with people regularly hijacked and where robberies are a fact of life. I chose the most mature looking driver that I could find in the melee outside the bus terminal and just hoped that the two spy cameras and the panic button in his cab were working and he was one of the good guys. I was extremely relieved to arrive at my hostel in a little residential street and checked in at the same time as an Italian guy who had been on my bus. We had both asked other passengers what hostel they might be staying in so that we could share a cab but had not asked each other. We set off into the back streets to find somewhere to eat and then cooled down with our feet dangling in the tiny little pool in the hostel courtyard, chatting with other travellers and drinking beer.
Peru had been hot but Guayaquil was off the scale and so very humid. I was allocated a top bunk in a dorm at the DreamKapture hostel where I lay awake for most of the night, slowly roasting, but scared to toss and turn in case I rolled to the unguarded edge and ended up on the floor.
The next day I shared a cab back to the bus terminal with a very odd Dutch guy and where I eventually located the correct bus company out of the one hundred and four windows (I am not exaggerating this time) and managing to brush off the countless ticket touts who were bothering me, with two minutes to spare, I got on my rickety looking bus to Manta.
We bowled through more of the stunning countryside for three and a half hours, stopping occasionally for more passengers and the obligatory food vendors. I bought and ate an unidentifiable pie-like thing and then, before I knew it, I had been turfed off the bus and into a deserted parking lot at Manta.
there was a stunning sunset every night
Of course, I wasn’t alone for long as my backpack attracted the usual clutch of cab drivers but this worked to my advantage as I could haggle among them for the best price to my final destination which was the beach resort of Santa Marianita – where I was deposited into paradise.
Following a communication mix up I had done no homework at all so was completely in the dark about what to expect and even unsure about what work I would be doing. I was to stay at a beachside hostel, working in exchange for my bed and breakfast, but what a hostel this one turned out to be. Over the next two and a half weeks I would meet many guests, the other volunteers and many of the local ex-pat community who all regularly gathered to chat in the shady hammocks but now, just a couple of hours after arriving I was standing on the sand outside the gate and shaving the pink hair off an Italian lady’s head whilst giggling Ecuadorians stopped to watch.
the beach-front property
The American owner, a feisty lady from New York who had built her home from scratch and loved nothing better than to introduce and mix up friends, volunteers and guests in her big social melting pot was in her seventieth year, but you would never ever think it. She drove her large 4×4 truck competently and speedily (and the time I was sat in the open back, painfully into potholes), slept with a gun besides her bed ready to blow the brains out of any intruder and had a collection of thirteen rescue cats and four dogs which draped themselves lovingly over guests, hammocks and walls.
It was like a mini United Nations. There were Americans of course, several Canadians, my Italian friend who now sported a shaved head, a Ukranian and a German, a couple of Croatians, a Russian/Australian, an Indian, Dutch, Chinese a lovely English girl and two wonderful Ecuadorian ladies, not to mention the men in the hotel next door who ran the kite surfing school and came from goodness knows where.
the patio outside the studios
Sunday morning was known as Gringo Breakfast with guest numbers swollen by local people. Sometimes up to forty would descend on the place and Maira the petite Ecuadorian cook would gallantly man the frying pans, aided by the stunningly beautiful Croatian girl who had once starred for three years in a popular Croatian soap opera, but was now travelling and volunteering like me.
The pace of life was slow. Rooms were cleaned, laundry laundered and groceries shopped for; punctuated by long walks down the beach to the lighthouse (more of a stick with a bulb on top than a house with a light), dips in the powerful surf and frequent power cuts. One evening six of us walked along to the local village where an ill-timed power cut found us sat in a dark courtyard of a local house and a light-bulb was powered by the car battery – yet a very tasty meal came out of the kitchen. Another day, I joined one of our Ecuadorian guests on a taxi ride to nearby Monticristi.
the impressive entrance to the mausoleum
I forgot my Spanish/English dictionary but my Spanish must be improving as we got by and had a very enjoyable time looking around the hilltop mausoleum of Eloy Alfaro Delgado and shopping at the artisan market. We learned that some of the finest Ecuadorian (NOT Panama) hats are made in this region with the most expensive taking up to eight months to make, and we looked around the congress building which had been built and then occupied for only six years before the powers that be decided they should be relocated to Quito. Government officials waste money at every level and in every country.
the finest Ecuadorian hats
In my short time here I met some wonderful people and all had their own special stories, some of which I was privileged to hear. Obviously I am not going to tell you these stories as they are not mine to tell, but I am never ceased to be amazed by the bravery and resilience of many people. I can only wonder how, when so many people battle adversity of every kind and win through; coming out the other side as interesting, intelligent, empathetic wonderful human beings, why others crumple and give up at far lesser challenges, becoming bitter, resentful and angry.
by Jane | Mar 25, 2014 | Ecuador, My travels |
Whilst I shall still endeavor to update my main posts every Tuesday, my site needs to evolve. My main posts will cover my travels and personal thoughts as before, but I will post shorter, additional entries in more immediate response to the situation on the ground. These will include hostel and attraction reviews, location information and short, snappy entries which I think may be of interest to you.
Please feel free to comment once I get myself organised and let me know if you like the more frequent posts, beginning with this one.
The Cloud Forest
The view at La Casita del Arte y del Te, Mindo
I have been in The Cloud Forest for three hours and I seen humming birds and parrots, been chased by two horrid dogs and I have had the most amazing vegan chocolate and coffee cake. I have had four señoras at the next table advise me to change my lunch order before I got a fish the size of something which would put Jaws to shame and I had a leering man in welly boots grab and shake his scrotum at me whilst he was weeding his banana plants! Who said Mindo was quiet?
Not a humming bird but it’s still pretty
by Jane | Mar 18, 2014 | Funky Facts, My travels, Peru |
Here are some more of my musings on the variety that is South America. Read about the street food, the security and the wheelbarrow boys in this, the second in my series of Funky Facts.
1. Wheelbarrow boys
Wheelbarrow boy for hire
At the local market there is no need to lug heavy bags home or look super-weird trailing one of those granny trolleys behind you. Here you just need to hire a wheelbarrow boy. They will follow you around for a small fee, collecting your bags of dirt cheap fruit and veg and then come to the edge of the market where you hail a cab and load everything into the back. Seemingly hundreds of them scoot about the market at top speed in their welly boots, yelling at you to get out of their way. They come in all age and sizes so you can pick one to suit – just make sure that you keep clear as they come barging through.
2. Quails Eggs
the best breakfast
One of my favourite breakfasts on the walk to work is quails eggs. Ladies sit at their carts with hot water in a pan and peel, peel, peel. For one sol (23p) they will pop six eggs into a tiny plastic bag, squirt in some eye-watering aji (chilli) sauce and hand them over to you with a cocktail stick. Totally scrummy. And guaranteed to make passers-by chuckle as you splutter on the sauce
3. Personal Space
There is a complete lack of awareness of personal space. People will crash into you on the sidewalk (OMG, I have been around Americans too long; I typed that without even thinking of the word pavement), they will stop dead and have a conversation whilst blocking your way or taxis will stop right bang alongside you on the kerb and let passengers out rather than drive on an extra metre. On buses there is no backing off to allow someone space to breathe. People are packed in, groins thrust in faces and I have even had my bottom stroked for the entirety of one journey – although that was less about personal space as somebody having a bit of illicit fun. Children and teenagers drape around each other in bundles, in classrooms they sit as close as possible and nearly everybody greets and leaves each other with a kiss on the cheek and a hug. I like it.
4. Jugglers
At traffic junctions there are no annoying people waiting to pounce with their buckets of bubbles and squeegee mops. In Peru we have jugglers and break-dancers. I have even seen a little ten year old stand and sing although quite how he expected to be heard above the incessant horns I don’t know. People are very generous and many will give a coin or two before the lights change. Jugglers and dancers at traffic lights are good.
5. My most favourite fast food EVER
I have fallen head over heels in love with Papa Rellanas. These deep fried potato treats are sold on the street for a sol or two. Sometimes they are filled with a little bit of minced meat, occasionally fish and usually with a smattering of chopped boiled egg or some shredded cabbage and an olive inside. Handed out on a tiny tray with a side of shredded white cabbage and of course the ubiquitous aji I could eat these forever and forever. You can keep your McDonalds or KFC – a papa rellana is all that I need for complete food happiness
6. Guns
standing guard
They are everywhere. Security guards in the parks have them. Cops fondle theirs lovingly. And they all have belts of shiny bullets to go with them. You kind of get used to them although one day that I walked past the bank was rather unnerving. I had hoped to call at the ATM for some cash but a massive armoured truck was parked outside; presumably there was a cash delivery or collection in progress. There were guards everywhere and not just eyeballing the street for threats. No, these were pacing, guns drawn, fingers on triggers, daring anybody to have a go. I decided not to queue for the ATM. Not because I was scared of being accidentally shot but of looking like a complete idiot. If a passing car had backfired as often happened, I would have hit the deck. And as usual there were about thirty people in the queue for the bank along the railings by the ATM – all just waiting and watching for me to dive quivering to the floor. I walked on by that time,
Street Food
an ice cold raspadilla
I have already mentioned the quails eggs and papa rellana but everywhere you look in Peru there is an enterprising vendor with a little cart, a supermarket shopping trolley or simply a cool box selling food or drink. Raspidillas – shaved ice coated in sickly sweet yummy fruit syrups drip tantilisingly coldly and attract wasps, and the similar cremoladas – slush puppies for grown ups flavoured with fruit juice are everywhere. Frozen fruit juices and fruit squash are sold in twists of plastic bags for just a few centimos to cool people down and of course melons, pineapples and mame are piled high ready to be chopped and sliced for you.
Rice puddings and jellies gleam jewel like in the sunshine, slices of pigs hearts barbeque smokily on skewers on street corners and milk sits in churns – to be ladled into plastic bags whilst people everywhere are juicing fresh fruits.
8. Shopping
my attempt to buy a greeting card
Corner shops or bodegas have metal grills across them. Rap on the iron with a coin and the shop keeper may or may not bother to come out from their house behind. If you don’t know the word for what you want point, but even something simple like water is a pantomime. You can’t go in and browse, but need to know the correct brand, size and whether you want it chilled or not. I bought a greetings card once. They were displayed in a nice carousel at the back of the shop. I could see the carousel. Would the shop keeper bring the carousel to me? Of course not! I had to tell her what I wanted the card for and she chose for me!!!! She brought me three different cards making three different trips to the back of the shop. I gave up in the end and just bought the third one regardless.
9. Bugs
I can tolerate spiders, snakes and beetles. I don’t mind flies or bees but I detest cockroaches. And the volunteer house was alive with them despite regular dousing with roach killer. Ceckeroches as pronounced in Spanish would jump out of a saucepan as you pulled it from the cupboard or dive at your feet as you lifted the rubbish out to the bins. Monsters would cruise along the skirting boards and baby ones would run around the bookshelf. They no longer make me scream, just shudder.
10. Wolf whistles
creamy rice puddings for sale
I remember being mortified when I had to walk past builders or the mechanics in the garage during the ‘70s and being subjected to wolf whistles or cat calls from the men. Here in Peru, the audible appreciation of the opposite sex is alive and well – some car horns have even been adapted to produce a whistle as drivers pass girls in the street. Hissing and kissing sounds are common and nobody is exempt. It is just a fact of life here. Just don’t react. Walk with your head high and do not twitch jump or snarl.
11. Security
a rather cool post box
There are few rules regarding health and safety and few security issues, however you have to jump through hoops to send a parcel abroad. I needed to supply a photocopy of my passport and my fingerprints, as well as a full description of what was in my parcel. I later discovered that I wasn’t supposed to seal the parcel until the lady behind the desk had verified the contents. A shop opposite the Post Office in Trujillo does a roaring trade in passport photocopies and a kiosk inside will sell sellotape and glue so that you can reseal your package. There is a desk where you can ask somebody to sew your parcel securely inside what appears to be a pillow case – your stamps and the address are stuck on the outside of the cotton and this apparently renders your parcel tamper free. Inside the Post Office in Trujillo a lovely brass lion’s head constitutes the post box – with letters and cards deposited through his mouth and then taking four to six weeks to reach Europe
12. Buses
slices of pigs hearts ready for the barbeque
Everything travels by bus. From the large, rather posh luxury coaches with their full cama beds in which you can recline almost horizontally and which have individual TV screens set into the seat-back in front of you, down through the local town buses with their pumping salsa music, holes in the floor and screwdrivers jamming the gearstick into place; to the micros or combis – think a beaten up camper van which is painted in garish colours and with a conductor who hangs out of the side door calling for more passengers even when there is nowhere to physically squash anybody else, buses are the life blood of the South American transport system.
I mentioned the postal system earlier in this article, but many people use the buses to transport goods and important documents. The better bus companies will accept a document or a parcel and for a nominal fee will transport it in the belly of the bus or balance it on the roof of the combi, to be collected the other end by a nominated person.
Notes:
- Papa is Spanish for potato
- Rellana is pronounced ray-anna
- Cockroaches are truly the most disgusting beasts on the planet
