It was a hot, sticky night and I had not slept well. I woke at 5am,
an hour before the alarm went off. It has been a bit of a noisy
hotel and we woke to the sound of a truck being revved in the car
park just below our window.
Buses wait for no man...
Our aim for today was to get to Loja and then
connect on a different bus for Zamora. We changed plans in the
morning to head instead for Vilcabamba. All three places are on the
edge of a national park which we hope to visit.
The bus to Loja was pretty good, comfy, friendly
staff. We had an extra special treat lined up for us though - a six
hour journey accompanied by Jackie Chan, another martial arts film,
Steven Seagal (of course) all rounded off with Jean Claude van Damme.
The bus left Machala at 8am - a bit early for six hours of violence!
We headed back down the coast past the banana
plantations before heading inland. I dozed and watched the world go
by. The landscape changed as we headed inland and started to climb.
It was as if we had traveled through a number of different climates.
Bananas gave way to dense, jungle like vegetation, then came
tropical palms and plants. Higher still it looked more alpine and at
one point I said to Stef that I expected to see Julie Andrews in
full flood with "The hills are alive, with the sound of music
.....".
The road climbed steadily upwards. Each time I
though we were at the top we would round a corner and the mountains
still rolled ahead of us. There were fantastic views down and across
the valleys, awash with green vegetation. The houses we passed along
the way seemed smarter, larger and generally in better condition
than in Perú and Machala. The pace of life seems slower and
everything seems more relaxed. The air smells of paprika, hot and
dusty reminding us both of smells we had encountered in India. One
of the times the bus stopped familiar faces got on board. About an
hour earlier and on the other side of the valley many ups and downs
away they had got off the bus. How they caught us up was a mystery
but they did - they had left a bag on board.
The bus fills and empties. Young children no more
than seven or eight get on on their own, travel a few miles and then
get off. At noon it fills up with schoolchildren. In the distance
they all look really smart with white shirts and navy skirts or
trousers. Close up, the whites are grubby and worn and look like
they have been handed down through many generations. For young
children, some of them have pre-occupied and anxious looks on their
faces as if they have the world's problems on their shoulders. One
boy carries a plastic bag full of eggs. With the way the bus lurches
it is amazing he does not smash them.
People try their luck on the bus and the
conductor throws a few off who do not have the money to pay. He also
gives an old guy a hard time. He has what must be his grandson with
him (the only blond haired person in sight). The child has a seat
but a man is standing. The conductor tries to make the child move
but gives us with no success.
The people getting on and off tell tales without
speaking. Most look like farmers. Their clothes are worn and dirty,
probably as much through age as lack of washing, although there were
a few who would benefit from a bath. Others are smart, office
looking types. One or two have laptop bags with them, a rare sight
here but oh so common in London. What is great for us though is that
we are the only tourists on the bus, in fact we have seen no other
tourists since the immigration control in Ecuador. When we stowed
our bags in the luggage compartment a local chap put a box in the
compartment. It had ventilation holes in it so that the live chicken
inside could breathe!
We arrived in Loja at about 2:30pm, surprised to
see a bus terminal that all companies operate from - not what we had
seen in Perú or in Machala. Needing cash, to stretch our legs and
some lunch we took a taxi into the town centre. The town has a
relaxed feel to it and it looks clean and tidy. Unlike Perú there is
no litter lining the streets and there is not the feeling of dust
and dirt everywhere that we have become used to. People at the bus
station were very friendly giving us the information we needed about
where to go. We had this in Machala yesterday too. A young chap,
seeing us consulting Lonely Planet asked if we needed any help, a
genuine offer and not a ploy to get us to buy something or go
somewhere.
Refreshed, we headed back to the bus terminal to
get a bus to Vilcabamba. This was a little mini van. Our backpacks
went onto the roof and we crawled inside. At its peak there were
twenty people in the van, a little cosy! It initially crawled
through Loja at a snail's pace, knowing there would be people to
pick up along the way. Once full, the speed picked up unless there
was an uphill stretch when it struggled. Its a little local shuttle
between the outlying villages and it stops to pick up and put down
more times in an hour than I can remember.
The villages also have a more prosperous than
Perú feel. Each has its obligatory central square with people simply
sitting and watching the world go by. At Lonely Planet's suggestion
we asked to be dropped off just outside Vilcabamba by the entrance
to our hotel, Hostal Madre Tierre. It was a short uphill walk along
a dirt track to get there - hard work in the humid heat and with a
full pack. The hotel is a collection of small bungalows dotted up
the hillside. There is a small pool, a bar, billiard table,
trampoline and a spa offering different treatments and massages.
Banana Republic
Our room is really designed for a family having
one double and three single beds. It has a separate table and
chairs, almost its own private dining area, and a small balcony. The
whole place is set in tropical gardens and we have bananas and
lemons almost within arms reach of our balcony. Dinner is included
in the room rate but unusually for what we have seen so far of South
America they stop serving at 8pm. This has been the time we have
started to think about going out for something to eat for the last
two months!
Hot, sticky and thirsty we went for a drink and
dinner. They have a really thirst quenching drink here called
horchata. Our dictionary says it is a "cold drink made from tiger
nuts and water". Not knowing what tiger nuts are we are none the
wiser about what it is but keep drinking it anyway. The hotel is now
owned by an American couple, Carol and John, who bought it last
September and there was a lot of American English being spoken. We
got chatting to a young couple who were friends of Carol's. They are
here for five weeks helping to refurbish parts of the hotel. From
what they said it sounds like Vilcabamba is a little hive of
scientific activity due to the climate here. Even though she has
only been here less than a year they also said that Carol apparently
knows everyone in town and is a great source of information.
We met Carol at dinner, or rather saw her
chatting to her guests (feels like a fair contingent are friends and
family) and staff. Just after 9pm she and her husband started to say
their farewells and before I knew it I was hugged and given a kiss
goodnight. Very tactile and very friendly and very not British!
After a failed attempt at getting on line using
the hotels wireless modem we went up to our room, as everyone else
already had! Not yet tired enough for bed we both finished catching
up on our diaries. A small scorpion was crawling up the wall. Not
knowing how nasty it would be if we got stung we played safe and
Stef splatted it - he is so brave!
