"Cappucinos and the Meaning of Life...."

New Year in Quito

Tim and Kris arrived that night and we had a great time catching up and drinking beer. Kris had also e mailed me previously to ask what special treats I would like and turned up bearing gifts of chocolate and tea bags!

New Year`s Eve was spent in traditional fashion, dinner, a few beers and into bed at 10.30 p.m.!



In fairness, they had been up very early and crossed a few time zones in the previous few days and wanted to catch up on the sleep they`d missed. Sadly it was not to be. Down in the valley, several miles away, a renegade DJ was determined to see in the New Year his own way, playing non stop music from 10.00 p.m. to 10.00 a.m. The wind carried the sound up the mountain and it seemed as if he was right next door. Even with my motorcycle ear plugs I hardly slept a wink. Happy New Year Quito!

The next few days were spent wandering around Quito old town, searching for cappucinos and the meaning of life.



Found the cappucino!

It was on such a quest that I decided to get myself a much needed haircut, so while Kris was shopping I found a local “hairdresser”. I had an uneasy feeling as soon as I sat down, it all smacked of “Sweeney Todd”, I bet if I`d have looked closer I would have seen traces of blood around the place. It was undoubtedly the worst haircut I`ve had since going to the barbers in Blackburn when I was about 10 years old. I`d always assumed with age goes wisdom and experience. My barber was at least 70 years old and maybe a little blind and unsteady, but by that time it was too late, I was committed, as big chunks of hair fell to the floor, much to the amusement of Kris as she dropped by to take photos. Still, I thought, it doesn`t matter, it`ll have plenty of time to grow again. I paid the $3.50 for the “haircut” and left quickly.

“You`re bleeding!” Kris pointed out as she rummaged through her bag for a paper handkerchief. Never trust a blind man with a cut throat razor, I reflected as I stemmed the blood flow from my cut ear.

“Did Van Gogh ever come to Quito?”

Whilst wandering the streets of Quito we also noticed an interesting Ecuadorian tradition, outside many shops and house were life size dummies (very much like the Guy Fawkes tradition in England) which are ritually burned at midnight along with a last will pinned to the dummy, symbolically getting rid of everything you didn`t like about the year gone by. I thought it was a pretty good idea – one way of exorcising the past.

We did find the cappucino and we were still working on the meaning of life when all too soon it was time for Tim and Kris to head home to New Zealand. They were up at 5.00 a.m. for an early flight, and after waving them off, I packed up the bike and set off for the town of Riobamba, a four hour ride across the mountains. With my GPS no longer playing ball, it was down to the old fashioned way to find my way out of Quito. At every junction I would ask locals and taxi drivers and eventually found the main Pan Americana.

The temperature had certainly taken a steep dive since crossing into Ecuador and now I was glad of the ice breaker, merino wool layers I had bought back home. At this rate I would be digging out my heated jacket I hadn`t worn since Alaska! Riobamba was a pleasant place and I arrived I bright sunshine and spent another 30 mins riding around looking for the “right” hotel. Luckily because I`d set off early enough, the weather stayed warm and comfortable while I unpacked and sorted the bike out before the ominous black cloud that had followed me over the mountains finally unleashed its contents. Time to break out the umbrella again. It seems I`ve entered another rainy season.

The next stop was the city of Cuenca. This proved to be a more demanding day than I`d expected. More mountainous roads and high altitude riding through dense clouds and were the beautiful paved roads I`d become used to suddenly ran out. Nevertheless, I still arrived in plenty of time to find a reasonable hotel in the centre. Again, the temperature climbed as I arrived in the city only to cloud over and rain heavily later in the afternoon.

Cuenca was a nice city and I decided a two day break from the bike would be good for my back. My stay also coincided with yet another festival. Latin Americans really love to party! Another huge parade with many floats carrying pointed political messages, most of which were aimed at the “Gringos`” greedy exploitation of Ecuador`s oil and natural resources (again see “Confessions of an Economic Hitman” for the real explanation).

I reckoned I had another two days ride over the mountains to the border of Peru so the next day I made for the city of Loja which would put me within striking distance of Peru if I rode hard all day. I was conscious of not overdoing it but at the same time was eager to cross into Peru. For some reason Peru was a key milestone for me. I`m not sure why, maybe because I`d heard so much about it – the beautiful scenery, the Andes, Macchu Picchu, Lake Titicaca, the beaches, whatever it was, I was excited about crossing the border. As with all my riding in Ecuador, the ride from Loja to the border proved to be much longer and harder than it looked on the map. The beautiful paved roads suddenly ran out and I was back on dirt and mud. These were obviously the last roads to be constructed, and so the journey to the border took nearly 6 hrs.

The mountain sections were really cold and I was glad I`d remembered to put my thermals on before setting off. Nevertheless, as soon as I started to drop down into the valleys the temperature soared back to the highs of Mexico and I was soon stripping off the layers. Maybe this would be a precursor to the climate I would face in Peru I thought, as flat, straight roads took me ever closer to the border.