Ecuador Part 2: Riobamba, Latacunga and Cotopaxi

Fuck yeah. The good news over the last few weeks is that the pound has steadily been pounding that Yankee imposter of a currency into the ground. After being beaten from pillar to post by the dollar since september, the pound has started to play a little rope-a-dope Mohammed Ali style. It was pounded by Foreman's dollar for 8 rounds (months) and in january (round 4) it looked like it was hanging on for grim life at 1.36:1. The lowest it has ever been in history. Even lowert han when we rebuilt after World War II. Thanks Gordon Brown. I won't make the mistake of accidentally and unknowingly voting for you in the next election. Well in round 8 the Ali pound sensed a weakness in the Foreman dollar. He was tiring. The Foreman dollar was being devalued in the eys of the public. It was waning. Those ringmasters from the far east started to lose their faith in Formen dollar's ability. They started to see the old Ali pound wasn not dead yet. They were looking around for a new champion and the Marciano Euro was there for their backing. Back comes the Ali pound. Pound for pound he was becoming the better fighter. Could not resist that one. Now it is 1.6:1. Come on Ali. A few more rounds like this and the Galapagos Islands in August (round 11) will no loner pose the obstacle they were becoming. I am hoping for the Ali pound in 12 rounds, but I will settle for a points victory. Of course I am likely to get egg on my face when Foreman dollar catches the Ali pound with a knockout blow and we all join the Euro. Well at least my $700 for Venezuela are coming at a good rate. Bring it on. Seconds out, round nine.

We arrived in Riobamba that night and checked into a different hotel to last time. They wanted $10 a person, but settled for $5 when we said that was too steep. My god an Equadorean with business sense. We aught to stuff him and put him in the museum of commerce as an example to all the other entrepreneurs in this country. All two of them. I found out now that Raisa's birthday party was an all nighter in Bogota and on the only day I was in Bogota for my second visit. What timing eh. We rang the train guy up from wednesday. He ignored our telephone calls. Dom thought it strange. I did not as I believed he had sold our tickets and was too scared to answer the telephone. Dom thought that impossible. He has more faith in these hackneyed incompetents than I do. We kept trying. Eventually he answered. A heated phonecall ensued. He claimed we had told him we would arrive before half six. We insisted we had not. We put together a cast iron case. He had told us before 6am on friday was fine, that he gave us his mobile number specifically for this purpose etc etc. He repeated the same line for 10 minutes. He was lying through his teeth anyway. The shifty little bastards would have sold our tickets a long time before half six as his office shuts then and he is going to try and convince us that two random people rocked up for tickets right at that hour. They talk such bollocks in this country. i would love to see a lying competition between here and Guatemala. It would be a good bout to watch. My money is on Guatemala. They both lie so well, but the Guatemalans fool me more and have an iq slightly above an ant. Where as I think Ecuador's is slightly below. Eventually he discovered that there was more than one sentence in the repertoire of his vocabulary. He conceded he was in the shitter and given we were very angry, four times his size and within spitting distance of his workplace in the morning, he conceded we may be able to ride with the driver or on extra chairs. I did not believe him, but come hell or highwater I would be on that train in the morning. The sad thing, as this was in 'The Book', was that you could no longer ride on the roof. Two Japanese tourists had been killed when a cable lifted them off the roof. Not sure how that happened, but it took the edge off the trip. Dom had stored some pictures on the computer to update his couchsurfing profile and went back to delete them. They were in the cyber bin along with a whole collection of amateur porn. The internet guy was standing over his shoulder and this caused Dom no ends of embarassment. It amused me when he told me. Our hotel had but one flaw. The bell for the front door seemed to be wired to our room. I was not sure whether we were supposed to be responsible for letting people in as there was never anyone on the desk. We failed with a superb dereliction of duty anyway.

In the morning we strapped on the war paint and righteous indignation and sallied forth to meet Mr Bayran Silva. I shall immortalise this fuckwit in print. He deserves it. The fame of infamy. We started off with a good argument. Along with coffee, its always a good way to start the day. We were to receive no discount. He sold another ticket to a Chinese tourist. This infuriated Dom. We roasted this bastard. He gave me a plastic chair to stick at the back of the train. One seat was left spare so Dom got that and I stacked my movable chair behind the rest. These Americans asked if that was where I was going to sit. I confirmed it. Why not pay full price and get your own movable chair. i could walk it wherever the scenery was. Perfect. Sortof. One of the girls said "ya´ll". Fuck yeah. Southerners. It had been awhile. They were a university group from a Presbyterian college. They were all from South Carolina and Georgia. That imrpoved the journey no end. We talked a lot about the States and I missed the South a lot. Somehow I am going to have to work there for at least a year. This train line was being repaired. it used to go from Quito to Guayaquil and the other branch to Cuenca. They were trying to resurrect this route. The train car was just one box carriage with a padlocked ladder to the roof,. The roof was flat and still contained the plastic chairs you used to be able to sit on. Dom wanted to break out of the window and climb up, but it was not possible. The back door kept swinging open though and we got glorious vistas of the track. At one point we went over an old wooden rickety bridge with workman ambling around. The ground crumbled from under the train. I presume the workman's efforts and the train's destruction keep a healthy balance of disrepair on that bridge. You can't have it too perfect. Without the dangers of the roof, you have to have something to scare the tourists a little and collapsing bridges is a sound choice. At the first stop, where we had to pay for toilets again (amazingly you don't at the second stop so if you can hold it in, go for it) and got some lovely rice puddingesque soup thing with one of those great flat pastry things they eat in Belize. A good combination. The train ride was very bumpy and riding on the roof would have been awesome. The scenery was very reminiscent of Montana. I tend to compare all train trips now to the Copper Canyon and its not as good, but its still a very scenic route. All the way, the coach driver of the Yankees kept pace with the bus. It was renowed for breaking down see and he was always at hand on every level crossing. We stopped at Alausi for the second and final time. Dom held the train up and was late back. The train tried to move. I told them there was one more passenger. They carried on anyway, because Ecuadorians are bastards. Then they stopped and Dom made it. Two more passengers were not so fortunate and we left them behind. That would have given people a seat, but some locals rammed on so we gave the seats to the old people. Then came the highlight and feature of the trip. We went downt eh famous switchback of the Nariz del Diablo (Devil's Nose). The valley was too steep to go up normally, so they figured it would be better to place some switchbacks. This involves a train driving into a blind alley and instead of turning around, reversing back down the next stage and then it is repeated so they go forward for the third and final part. Apparently the church was so opposed to this project that they told the natives it was the devils work and they should not sully their hands and souls by working on it. Its truly spectacular and they claim its the toughest bit of engineering in history. I think that might be overegged, but it did look difficult. The train wobbled and many of the tourists were quite intimidated by the rocking train. We came through unscathed however and at the bottom we even got to mount the train and get a perspective from the roof, albeit when its not moving. I finally got a seat and we got back to Alausi where we disembarked to get a bus. There was a couple from Utah. The woman had the most stunningly dark eyes. She can't be a Salt Lake City native. Unless the Mormons have been doing some sterling breeding up there.

Now for a little rant. We took a bus to Riobamba. They packed so many people onboard that there was no room to move. Even in the corridors. Then four women got on. they wondered if there was a sate. Now bare in mind that 200 people were standing in the corridors of the bus. They walked all the way to the back and then came back and said they wanted to get off as there were no seats. That was the final straw. How thick can you be. They plum new depths everyday. There are 200 people in the corridor. Do theyb think they are standing for fun? Do they think they are incapable of walking to the back of the bus? Do they think they have piles and can't sit down? Do they even think? If they used their brains would they snap like Dom's bike from lack of care and practice. Fuck these people are so stupid, so unbelievably stupid. I had had enough of Ecuador and I gave it a double barrelled discharge in the book. Here it goes. I HATE THIS COUNTRY. Its like Guatemala. The people are so sutpid. They have no business sense, with the honourable exception of that one guy. They keep piling onto a full bus and complain when there are no seats left. If you want a fucking seat, get on an empty bus you retard. They fail to answer basic questions. Whatever you ask, they respond with the only sentence that has been programmed into their brain for that day. They are like those damn toys where you pull the chord and random phrases come out. They probably have around seven phrases for the week and then they visit the local doctor on a sunday and he changes them for seven new ones. After all you have to keep it fresh. Not one of these cretins can do any maths worthy of the name. They would embarass a dog. At least some of them can count to five if they are trained. Perhaps Ecuadorians are the missing link between that slime that crawled out of the first sea and amphibians. I think they are on the whole far inferior to Neanderthal man. At least neanderthal man had some concept of spatial awareness and could use basic tools without dribbling. All the time these fucking bastards lie and their incompetence knows no bounds. They are the only people who could take over British Rail and make it worse. Everything fucking breaks. Bikes, quad bikes, buses, people's brains when they have to respond to a question with no ready made answer on their chord. All meals take ages. They move like snails. You probably need to ring ahead three hours before you want to eat and even then it would be about an hour late. They don't have fast food in this country, they just have slightly less slow food. Prices miraculously change. Its remarkable how fast a price can change from the advertisement on the door to the menu and again to the bill. Inflation happens in the space of ten minutes in time or the space of one devious calculation in these liar's minds. Thank god they can't add up, otherwise we'd actually have to pay higher prices. the incorrect change balances out the inflation usually. What you need from shops is always hidden and always hidden behind the substitute product that is four times as expensive. Incompetence reigns. i have mentioned this before, but is so pronounced it needs reiterating. There are always bastards begging and hassling you everywhere. Fuck them. I hate their country. Let the bastards starve. It would be a Herculean task for any politician to turn this country around, but they can start with education. I can only assume from my experience with Guatemalans that they don't receive any education. If they do, the teachers need to be put out to pasture. Better yet, I have the perfect soluition. Ecuador should be erased and the Galapagos Islands ceded to Colombia. That would benefit everyone. Fuck Ecuador.

We switched buses at Riobamba for Latacunga. I am very tired at this point. that may excuse my hostility, but in the light of awakened sobriety I stand by all I have written above. I have found three or four Ecuadoreans that buck this trend. We should give them visas to somewhere else so they can escape this country. Otherwise their intelligence will skew the national average in favour of frogs and up from newts. On the bus a local woman was admiring herself in the mirror. Yes love, you are still ugly. Have no fear for the buis has not accidentally beautified you. We arrived in town. What a shithole. Banos is the only Ecuadorean town that has not looked like a shithole and its a tourists playground. Right this country is retarded. The stupid woman who runs this cafe has just checked on a plug ten minutes ago and told a customer no for something. She has just checked it again now for another customer. Nothing has changed in 10 minutes. Nothing has changed since the days of the colonial Spanish. Their memories must be wired for short term usage. We had been quoted $180 by Itay's Cotopaxi guide. this agency in town offered us it for $135 (money well spent), but we had to go sunday. Damn we wanted to see the Quilotoa Loop. they had another tour for $25 the next day (not worth it). We took the two as a combined package, although we only went to Lago Quilotoa instead of around the whole loop. The town is superbly lit at night. Credit where credit it due. It was a superbly lit shithole. Imagine what that hard working lighting guy could do with a beautiful city or even one of moderate attraction. We went to a dodgy pool hall where they had 10 ball pool. Never seen this before. They had nuimbers 6 to 15. Weird. We weren't sure how to play so we played it like 9 ball. I won 5-3 but only legitimately won one game on merit. My luck continued. I tried the one and only beer before Cotopaxi. It was like water and crappy. I believe it went by the name of Pilsener.

In the morning we joined the Swiss couple for the Quilotoa tour. On the way round the loop we saw the wreckage of a bus. It was from the line Cotopaxi. This company has a disastrous safety record. We swore to avoid them, though if we had gone independently maybe we would have been like the Germans here. The bus had swerved and hit a bank. Two Germans onboard had been thrown through the window and hit by a bus coming the other way. It was their last tour. The tour guide (one of those 3 or 4 people) told us it was the same company that had plunged over the cliff and killed those seven English girls a few years back. I remembered reading that story. You think its a tragedy, but it does not hit home until you set foot where something happens and if you witness another crash to reinforce it, it really sinks in. I am surprised this company gets to keep on operating. I hope I never have the misfortune of using them. We stopped at a market for breakfast. The scenery is quite fine in this part of the country. The Swiss wanted an hour. Dammit I hate shopping. So we went to try Guinea Pig. It was not bad. A little salty on the skin. The guide offered me a sheep's eyeball for accompaniment. I took that and ate it. That shcoked him as I was the first westerner to eat one. I will eat anything. The cook's joked the guinea pig was rat and I stated I would love to eat art if they had some. The people here were shocked that I had eaten bear. This fucking shift key is not working and all my sentences start with small letters. Sheep's eyeball is quite pleasant. the black bit at the back is impossible to chew, the other parts have a rubbery texture and the inside of the eyeball is a bit guey. It sticks to your teeth. Still it was better than it looked. We ended up travelling only obne third of the way round the Quilotoa Loop. Our guide laughs at everything. Its quite maniacal and infectious. His wife is really whiney though. We saw Quilotoa Volcano and the supreme lake it contains within its jagged peaks. Its very picturesque. Dom preferred it to Lago Atitlan. I still see Atitlan as my yardstick for lakes. The guide told us it was 11km in circumference and would take 6 hours to traverse. I called his bluff and reckoned three tops. We set off running round the crater at 4000m altitude. Whoever talks of altitude sickness. It was easy enough, but we forgot to get water for the journey. We got a third of the way round in 35 minutes. we believed we were only a quarter and turned back for lack of water. When we realised how far we had gone, we realised it was an error, but too late to do anything about it. Shame. First thing I had failed and my vertigo reared its ugly head again. did not bode well for Cotopaxi the next day. we almost crashed on the way back and there was a sheep on the roof of a bus. As you do. We were told we could get llama for dinner, but I was disappointed when this turned out not to be true. I was anticipating a fully exotic day of feasting. We got equipped for Cotopaxi and they did not have shoes big enough for me. I had anticipated this problem and they produced a sorry pair which did not look that resistant to the cold. I was not filled with confidence. As we turfed in my hip was troubling me and Dom felt sick. Excellent preparation for Cotopaxi.

Today was the day of judgment. Well the early hours of monday would be, but it began today. Everything was shut on the sunday as normal and it was difficult to get supplies. We dropped off our bags in the guides house and I had kept my passport and cards on me for security. Then on the mountain it was raining. My bag is not waterproof. Shit I left them in the refugio which was probably less secure than the house. We got to the refugio and instead of practicing ice climbing, we went to sleep. Both of us were in bad shape for this. We grabbed some food prepared by our guide. He looked in his 40s. It turned out later he climbed Cotopaxi for the first time when he was 15, was actually 69 years old, had climbed it thousands of times and absolutely destroyed us with his fitness. There were not many people in the Refugio and it was tough enough carrying the bags from the car parking lot to the building. There was a school trip on the mountain and the teacher stopped us to ask many questions about climbing Cotopaxi. We were learning now from our guide where the toughest parts etc would be. That night was a nightmare. They say it is difficult to sleep at 4800m. They are not wrong. People who know me, know I can sleep anywhere, but this was tough. it took an hour and a half to sleep. i tried every trick I knew. Different positions, the usual shoe in of imagining myself falling into a black hole. In the end I had to invent a new one. think so rapidly on various colours and patterns that i exhausted my brain into passing out. I got four and a half hours sleep. At midnight we were up and readying to go.

I had slept in my thermals, so only needed to add the outer layers. This took no time at all. We would carry our crampons and ice axes to the start of the glacier around 4900m. I needed the toilet before we left. It was a new moon so there was no moonlight. The light cast ghostly shadows around the outhouses. I joked with the guide that we were operating in the ghostly lights of the night. It was like some film. Like when you get the camera perspective in Aliens from behind the flashlights. It almost felt like a computer game. Only it was much more physically demanding. We strapped up. The night was calm. Apparently there was to be no wind. That was incorrect, but apparently this was mild. I would hate to be in the strong stuff. We got up to the ice and strapped on the crampons. What grip they give you. They mash up your toes, but you feel safe on the ice. The ice axe is also a gift, because you can put a lot of your weight onto your upper body and spread the burden. I asked how you walk in crampons and the guide said whichever way was more comfortable. Not too helpful. I settled on a slightly left sided lilt. It felt most comfortable even if I was twice as powerful on my right hand side. Lets do this. We set off with four other groups from the refuge and we were fourth. The Israeli guys never made it, the group in front of us turned back due to a lack of acclimitisation and another group feel apart around 5400m. Then there were just two of us and the others were way out front. This mountain was tougher than we imagined. Dom had asked if I had my little ball to play at the top like Chirippo. That was going to be the last of our thoughts. From about 5100m I needed the toilet and from 5300m I needed a shit. this was impossible on Cotopaxi, where it is below freezing, covered in biting wind and the three of us are strapped together by a rope line. I kept asking for updates in height. We never seemed to be progressing fast enough to keep pace with my fatigue. This was taking its toll. I needed a few breaks. We kept breaking behind very picturesque glacial figurines at every 100m of altitude climbing. The altitude was not taking its toll yet, but the fatigue was. There were several dangerous parts of the climb where we were walking on narrow ledges, getting slaughtered by the wind. It was knifing through us. The gloves were not good enough. I could not feel my fingers. My water had turned to ice. I needed to refresh. The next minute we are going on a 60 degree slope relying on our crampons to dig in for us. Dom slipped once and twisted my ankle from the rope tightening. I trod on my other boot sometimes with the crampons and that always upended me. Up, up and up we went. Still crawling in metres and still fading badly. My head started to hurt. Was it altitude sickness. Had my head just frozen. time to put the hood over the balaclava even though it restricted my mobility. Up more sheets of ice and round random paths. We have to scramble this bit. Need the ice axe. I love my ice axe. I want to keep it forever. Thank god this is in the dark or how would my vertigo suffer it. We reached 5650m. Getting there. What's that on the left? A dead man. Nope one of the Americans has collapsed and his head is taking its toll. The altitude must have had him. he is a casualty. Its the son. We leave his corpse on the side of the path. Its just us now. Last group standing. we scramble up a slippery slope and into a sort of dug out cave. it feels like a bunker in World War I before going over the top. Thats what it feels like. I need the toilet. I can't go. We hole up here. Whats this? The American is back from the dead. Well as good as. He falls over the rampart and its the five of us destroyed in the bunker. My head is killing me, my legs are destroyed and I am punch drunk from exertion. What next? The guide tells us the next part is the most difficult. Less than 200m to go. I look up at this near vertical ramp. Fuck this. I may die from this exertion. I decide to give up. It was not the easiest decision to make as I was so close. Dammit I would fail and so close, but I was really risking my body now. I would fail the first task from 'The Book' that I had attempted. The guide said i could wait and go back with the Americans. It sounded like a plan. Wait a second. Its only 200m. I am not dead yet. Fuck it lets do this. I will turn back if I faint or vomit and not before. Lets go. We started up the sheer wall. it was agony incarnate, but my iron willpower had decided this was the toughest bit and it would be conquered. 40m we had a problem. Dom was collapsing now from exhaustion and was crawling on his knees. We needed to make the top. We pushed for it and made it. 6800m. Dammit we were almost there and the hardest part was done. Nope, the guide lied. Now was the hardest part. What was it? A fucking ice wall. You have got to be kidding. A fucking ice wall. 30m high at an altitude of 5800m. How were we to get up? With our ixe axe and crampons. Oh go fuck yourself. My vertigo can't handle this. It was Cartagena castle all over again, but without the oxygen. Ok lets do it. Up we go. Fear and adrenaline fired me up that wall. I just swing the axe in (I love this axe. I want to marry it) and scramble with my feet. We get to the top after 10 minutes of exertion. We both collapse on the floor.l This sums up Cotopaxi and how much it was killing us. The guide said get up, there was half an hour to go. Oh goody. We were dead. We were dead men walking like the Yankee. Can he make it up here? We limped along, with a cruel downhill bit (It meant we had some uphill on the way back), we hung off the side of the volcano and then stumbling and fucked up we made the summit. The sun was up now. The views were superb. Dom was crying from joy at achieving it. My head hurt. I wanted to be sick and start off down again. Dom took some photos. I collapsed in the crater. Fuck this shit. We had made it. Thank god. Now we just had to get down. We passed the Dead Yankee Walking as we headed down. Those two made it as well. 5 of us from everyone who had started. That little uphill bit was ridiculously hard. Then the ice wall down. This was going to shit me up. We went down while the guide supported us. I dislodged an ice block with my axe that hit Dom square in the forehead and wounded him on the way down. Thenhe pulled the rope too tight and I was yanked clean off the wall, hanging on suspended in the air only by my ice axe. I love that thing. Thank god I rammed it in deep. The descent was a melancholy stumbling like that of a zombie film. I needed oxygen. My head was about to explode. Shit that took a lot out of me. We transversed the dangerous parts, only falling a few times until we eventually got down and removed the crampons. Then we could not stand up as we no longer had the spikes to help us. It was like a chuckle brothers moment descending the volcano. I got left behind, but did not care. I could barely walk. We got to the bottom and had the best shit I ever had. Then the guide helped me pack the luggage. My stuff was still there. My faculties were not. That fucking killed us. 'The Book' is going to kill me. Yet what an achievement. 5897m of fucking pain. We got in the car and I could barely walk straight, we picked up our bags and slept all the way to Quito on the bus.