Quito
Ecuador
Our first day in Quito started out overcast, cold and rainy - not so different to how we left Colombia. Thankfully the gloomy conditions didn't hold us back from exploring the city.
Parque Carolina had absolutely everything: cycling track, outdoor gym, massive skateboard park, boats floating around a lagoon, athletics track, fields and courts for at least half a dozen different sports, carnival rides, food stalls, artwork, a graffiti-covered plane and the best dog park I've ever seen (Australia could learn something from this one). It was a busy place, full of locals getting in their morning workout before starting their day.
Parque Itchimbia, on the other hand, was relatively empty. I would have said it was peaceful if it weren't for the noise of hundreds of students emanating from the nearby schools. The Palacio de Cristal, taking pride of place near the entrance, was annoyingly covered in scaffolding. I followed the run/cycle path to a mirador out the back of the park, which presented me with a scene of colourful concrete houses built into the side of the mountain. I couldn't be certain, but it gave the impression of being the slums of the city. Back around the front I found a spot that gave me a limited view over the historic centre of Quito, with its huge basilica standing tall above the rest of the buildings.
That basilica was my next destination. It wasn't hard to find with its towers dominating the skyline. I bought a ticket to venture inside, hoping it would allow me to ascend the towers. It didn't. That was a separate ticket, which I frustratingly had to pay an additional amount for. Sixteen floors later (via the stairs, not the elevator), I arrived at the top. There wasn't a whole lot of blue sky around, but it wasn't raining so I was thankful for that. By the time I had done the rounds of all 3 towers, climbing up and down almost vertical staircases in some parts, I had seen the city from every conceivable angle. It was worth the double entry ticket.
Wandering through the streets of the historic centre left me awestruck. Pastel-coloured colonial buildings, adorned with fancy embellishments and wrought-iron balconies, lined the undulating roads. Palaces and churches bordered grand plazas, street vendors sold all sorts of touristy trinkets and crowds packed the pedestrian-only streets. If you had told me I was in a European city I would have believed you (except for the prices - everything here was surprisingly cheap, even compared to Colombia).
The plan was to eat lunch at Mercado Central. The place was eerily quiet for one of the most visited markets in the city, and none of the 20 or so food outlets offered any veg options. We left relatively quickly, instead finding a nearby vegetarian restaurant offering inexpensive sandwiches.
Our accommodation was located in La Mariscol, a district we chose due to its popularity with backpackers and supposedly being packed with cafes and bars. It wasn’t quite what we expected. Surrounding the centrally-located Plaza Foch were several clubs that pumped out dance music, which seemed to attract mostly young locals. Outside of this area, there wasn't much going on. After a long walk we found an Irish bar playing older hits at a reasonable volume, so we perched ourselves there for the rest of the afternoon.
We couldn't help but visit the geographically inaccurate Mitad del Mundo, a.k.a. the centre of the world, a.k.a. the equator. A very cheap Uber ride took us 30 km north of Quito, where we bought our tickets and entered the overly touristy site. We were sent through uninspiring reconstructions of ancestral housing before emerging in the middle of a ‘village’ that only contained souvenir stores and restaurants. Finally we reached the official equator monument, built before modern technology could determine it was located about 200 metres or so away from the true equator. This didn't stop us taking a million photos of the bright yellow line they had painted along the path, along with dozens of other tourists who undoubtedly knew the truth too. The view from the top of the monument showed us mountains in every direction, including one covered with snow (our second snow sighting in South America).
Once we left, we went off in search of the real equator. Unfortunately, we found we had to pay to enter a museum that had their own equator line, although by all reports this one was not accurate either. We saved our money, but consoled ourselves by realising that we must have crossed over the true equator on the walk to the museum, thereby allowing us to claim that we were, at some stage, located in two hemispheres at the same time.
Another Uber drive took us to Parque Metropolitano, an expansive outdoor area that was pleasantly quiet on a weekday. It was a steep climb up to the highest point, from where undulating paths guided us to a series of lookout points over the outskirts of Quito. The terrain constantly changed, from cobbled paths to barely visible grassy tracks, concrete walkways to wide, dirt trails. We found there was a strong resemblance to Australia, with its eucalyptus trees and other distinctive flora that had been introduced to the area in the 18th century. Later on, Danny spotted a pack of 5 llamas, which we followed for several minutes (this was definitely not reminiscent of home). Unsure if they were dangerous or not, we kept our distance, but they seemed more scared of us than we did of them. It was a beautifully sunny day and I would have loved to have gone running along the trails here if time allowed. In the end it was one of my favourite places in Quito.
Rucu Pichincha is a volcanic peak that stands almost 4,700 metres high. It is possible to hike up to the summit, which of course I was desperate to do, but circumstances weren’t always on our side. On our first attempt, the weather was so bad when we arrived at the bottom of the mountain that we didn’t even bother catching the cable car up to the start point. The second time round the conditions had improved significantly, so we caught the cable car up. The views were mostly clear, showing us numerous snowy mountains and volcanoes lined up on the horizon. Unfortunately, we realised we wouldn’t have time to reach the summit and return before nightfall, so we didn’t even bother starting the hike. We crossed our fingers it would be third time lucky.
Thankfully, there were bright blue skies for our final attempt. From the top of the cable car it was roughly 5 km to the peak. The first 4 km were fairly easy, offering steep sections intermixed with flat trail. Snow-covered mountains were just visible in the distance, while Rucu Pichincha stood out as a vertical rock straight ahead of us.
The final kilometre took an eternity. Scree and rock fall filled the slopes, and traversing directly across them felt like a life-threatening mission. Once we had navigated this, we were faced with an ascent up a long, sandy slope. Approximately halfway up the agonising climb, 2 Frenchmen came sliding down towards us. They gave us the sage advice of crossing horizontally over the slope to where a slightly more solid section of rock and grass were located (which turned out to be the actual trail, not the impossible terrain that we were trying to overcome). At the top of the sand, the craggy rock section began, where jagged protrusions led straight up to the peak. Every careful footstep required a reciprocal hand placement, with shallow nooks and crannies providing the only support. It was not only difficult but also quite dangerous. Danny gave up not far from the summit, but I was determined to finish.
A celebratory sign marked the summit. By clamouring over the jumble of rocks around the top, I could see views in all directions. The city of Quito was laid out in the distance, while the snowy peaks we spotted earlier were now hidden behind a wall of clouds. Unafraid black and white carunculated caracaras flew close by, landing only a metre or two from me. It was a breathtaking sight.
As challenging as the rocky section was, I much preferred it over the loose soil. In no time at all I had descended the seemingly vertical cliff face and joined Danny back at the top of the dreaded sandy slope. We wisely followed the edge, using grassy patches to help us down the precipitous decline. Crossing back over the rock fall and scree wasn't so terrifying this time, and before we knew it we were back on the relative safety of the main path. From here we half walked, half ran along the dirt slopes back to the cable car and down to civilisation.
