The Last Post

After settling down for a couple of weeks a few things blog worthy appeared.  First on the list is our welcome committee.  Sheldon and Leanna brought the grandkids over for dinner the day we arrived home - Jayden (3), Madison (10) and Kinsley (18 months).  They arrived with all the noise, excitement and enthusiasm that only kids and puppies can generate.  The best feeling grandparents can have is to know they were missed!  Here they are!

 

Next on the list is another event for the ‘best and worst’ in the last post.  We should have had one more category – Most Enchanting Evening.  At midnight on the third day of crossing the Atlantic on the Costa Victoria we sailed over the equator so the captain and his staff of slaves hosted a late night Equator party on the swimming pool deck, complete with buffet, ice carving demonstrations, Brazilian music and dancing beneath a colossal map of sparking diamonds. The glossy sea continuously rolled and smoothed itself out underneath the bow, silent and deep and mysterious as we celebrated ‘life’ above.  It was a remarkable night, a memorable experience. 

Last on the list is a sad one.  We learned on April 14th that one of our friends from the Costa Victoria passed away in March.  Tom from Florida, one half of the Tom and Tom comedy team, retired New York motorcycle policeman, died of cancer.  Even though we only knew him for a short time, losing Tom is almost unthinkable because his spirit is so entwined with our Costa Victoria memories. Rest in peace, Tom. 

Rome - the end of the line

Well the Mariner of the Seas docked at Civitavecchia (the port city for Rome) on March 27^th and the officers had the audacity and authority to order us off the ship. We didn’t have to be told twice that we weren’t wanted, so we said goodbye to our cabin and walked bravely down the gangway. Inside the terminal Selma and Louis were hysterical. All upset because they spent the night in rather miserable circumstances in a warehouse, but we didn’t feel sorry for them because not every piece of luggage gets to visit the places they have.

Tumultuous describes the scene outside the ship, total confusion with absolutely no directions whatsoever for people doing independent travel. We escaped with Thelma and Louis following at our heels, down a narrow, busy road in the dock area where thousands of containers were stacked. Lucky us, we spotted a city bus not too far away. We asked if the bus was going to the train station in Civitavecchia and the driver nodded. Not only that but it was free! WooHoo! A few minutes later we were at the station (along with five thousand others) buying tickets to Rome Central Station (Roma Termini). The ride takes about ½ hour and then it takes another ½ hour to walk through the train station – large, very large. Our Expedia.ca prebooked hotel was a two star called the Termini, on the third floor of a building where every floor is a different budget hotel. A novel concept. We asked directions at Tourist Information and she told us exactly where to go. In no time at all we were standing outside the locked door on the third floor. A sign clearly stated that to check into the Termini Hotel we had to go to the Hotel Piram, two blocks down the street, where we would be given the keys. Oh well, Piram it would be. I asked Richard if he wanted to wait there with the luggage while I went and checked in but he thought we should stick together. It’s a good thing…plans can change you know.

‘Can you believe it, we’re in Rome!’ we said in our best cartwheel voices as we approached the Piram. We were abruptly told by Selda, the nice-looking Italian agent, that check-in time for the Termini was 2pm (it was then about 11am), could we please come back later. She also mentioned that for Termini guests, breakfast would be served in the dining room of the Piram and would cost ten Euros per person per day as it was not included in the rate. Uh oh! My soft and serene voice (ha ha) said, please look at my book! I have it written right here that breakfast is included in the rate, as per Expedia.ca. Selda said she would check on it for us. We returned at 2:00 and noticed, while we were waiting for Selda, there was lots of luggage in the lobby with cruise tags the same as ours. We had beaten the RCI transfer bus to the hotel by about two hours – the beauty of independent travel (and pure $#!& house luck). Anyway, hold on to your Vespa throttle because Selda had news. She said we would not have to go to the Termini after all, we would be staying at the Piram. We nearly fainted – an upgrade from a two to a four star hotel in central Rome? Astonishing! Worth hundreds of dollars! We were so excited at the gift we forgot to ask about breakfast. The room was lovely and we found out next morning that breakfast was included. So here are the stats: we prepaid CA$148.70 for two nights at the Termini through Expedia.ca. Breakfast cost 10 Euros per person per day – worth about CA$60 had it not been included. On the Piram Hotel website in March, a double room with breakfast cost 330 Euros per night, an astonishing amount when you consider that with exchange the room retailed for CA$450 per night plus tax. About $1,000 then, for the stay! Yee Haa what a gift, what a gift. Those Italians!! Those kind, generous, well mannered, much respected Italians! We have always loved them…. And we always will.

 

Rome was just great fun! We had been there before, in 1997 but we did not stay in a central hotel and that affected the entire visit. So here is a hint: if you ever go to Rome make sure you stay within walking distance of everything because it is time and money well spent. And while you’re at it, why not choose a lovely four star hotel instead of a more budget two star? We can recommend the Hotel Piram…. Ha ha ha ha…..

We spent three days walking and exploring the sights and sounds of Rome. There’s a lot to see so don’t go without a guide book, and make sure you enjoy pasta and wine on as many occasions as possible. We found the cost of food in restaurants was actually better this time than years ago when Italy was still on the lira. One of our favourite places was the McDonald’s Restaurant on the square near the hotel. We could sit at one of their outside tables, sip delightful and affordable cappuccino and linger for an hour or so in Italian immersion. Of course there was almost nothing Italian about it – the entire roadway around the fountain in the piazza is filled with open top tour busses laden with tourists, one after another, and all the customers sitting outside at the restaurant were tourists, and of course the place is after all, an American fast food restaurant…but the cappuccinos were sort of Italian. Ho hum.

We saw more digital cameras in Rome than we saw cars. We saw more scooters than digital cameras. We saw more tour busses than scooters. Rome was busy, definitely the busiest and most touristy city of the trip. The weather was lovely, not too hot for sight seeing but warm enough to enjoy a nice lunch outside. Here’s something interesting - if you do a search on Expedia.ca for a hotel in Rome you will find they list 1,519. Expedia Paris has a few more at 1,590 but New York only lists 572 and London 914. So that is why Richard and I continually remarked at how much Rome reminded us of Paris. Every little side street we looked down in Rome presented a vision of incredible architecture, beeping horns, rushing scooters, and always two or three or four neon hotel signs off in the distance. This street, that street and that one over there, every direction you look there are little one and two star hotels with ancient elevators and tiny lobbies. The only other city we have experienced this is Paris. But I guess all those thousands of tourists have to stay somewhere, don’t they?

On our walk the first afternoon we realised just how hungry we were, so we stopped at a little bakery and bought some specialties. One of our purchases was amazing, as per the photo. The buns sold for Euro 1.50 each – about CA$2.15 and were called ‘slagliatela con rieata’ if I read the baker’s writing correctly. As you can see it was pastry that is threaded round and around somehow. So complicated we could not believe it. In fact I was chatting with an employee about them because she spoke some English, and the baker heard our conversation and magically appeared. He said proudly that those creations were made by ‘he’. Don’t know how though. Said they were filled with cheese and sweet stuff that they didn’t know the English word for.

One afternoon we rode tram car number 5 from Roma Termini to the end of the line – a good way to sightsee without too much stress or expense. Well the one hour ride each way was interesting and for most of the way, very crowded. It was an eye opener because once outside Rome central, everything that can be written upon, is. Graffiti everywhere. And the suburbs we saw did not look so affluent. In the entire time we saw no single family dwellings – everyone lives in apartments.

Before long it was time to pack up Thelma and Louis for the last time and say Arrivederci Roma. March 29^th we caught a 4pm train to the Airport and waited for our 8pm Easy Jet flight to Gatwick. We locked Thelma and Louis to one of the long benches at Gatwick airport and hung out for the night. I mean we slept – who needs a hotel!

March 30, 2011 we caught the 10:50am Thomas Cook flight to Calgary. At lift off the TV monitors in the plane read ‘distance to Calgary 7061 kms with a scheduled arrival time of 1:25pm. We were very excited to get together with the family again, especially the grandkids. But we were sad too. That’s the reality of travel.

On arrival in Calgary we collected Thelma and Louis from the carousel and walked outside to catch the city bus to the train station. Then it was the C-train to downtown. Exactly the way we started five months ago. The no taxi rule was still in effect.

About those taxis – for all the whining and complaining our taxi expenses on the entire trip, not counting the vouchers we were given in Calgary by Air Transat, ran about CA$177.00. This does not count regular transportation like subway tickets, bus tickets, bus transfers, train transfers, etc., only taxis. I tried to keep an honest count but may have missed a couple.

Best Meal

- for Richard it was a spectacular cannelloni pasta dinner with pork tenderloin cooked by Vi and Dave at Santa Marianita Beach

- for Donna it was a prepared quiche we bought at a grocery store in Benidorm that we heated ourselves, served with a fresh salad and a glass of Spanish wine.  100% wonderful on the 14^th floor balcony at sunset

Most Memorable Cup of Coffee

- for Richard it was in Quito at a little restaurant. A pot of hot milk and a jar of instant coffee, make your own at the table. Doesn’t sound that good but it was remarkably delicious.

- for Donna it was an Italian espresso we stopped to enjoy on our excited walk to the port from the train station in Savona. Thelma and Louis had to wait for us inside the coffee shop.

Most Memorable Breakfast

- for both of us it was a bag of the biggest, flakiest, crunchiest, freshest croissants to ever come out of an oven. The bag of croissants and two bottles of water cost CA$1 and we enjoyed the lot while sitting in the sunshine on the steps of an historic church in Quito

Most Memorable Beer

- same for both of us. The first beer of the trip after hours of travel. We stepped off the bus in Benidorm and joined dozens of Brits who were sitting at outdoor pubs, enjoying the sun, enjoying life

Favourite Bottle of Wine

- Richard and Donna agree this one is a tie – sunset on Santa Marianita Beach tied with the bottle of wine on the promenade of the Mariner of the Seas during a formal night fashion show

Most Unusual Person we Met

- no doubt about it, Linda from Santa Marianita Beach gets both our votes

Worst Meal

- without a doubt, the unbelievably bad pasta dinner at the Inte Hotel in Chiclayo gets both our votes

Favourite Hotel

- for Richard it was the Continental Hotel in Guayaquil – and he loved the breakfast that went with it

-for Donna it was the gorgeous Boutique Hotel Plaza Sucre in Quito – at CA$45 per night with taxes and breakfast it surely was the bargain of the trip.

-second choice for both was the Hostal el Patio in Lima, Peru

Favourite Seaside Promenade

- no doubt about it, Benidorm wins hands down

Favourite City

- we agree on this one too. Lima takes first place, but Rome is a close second

Favourite Tourist Sight

-For Richard it was all the decaying ancient ruins around Chiclayo, Peru

-For Donna it had to be Corcovado – the statue of Christ in Rio de Janeiro

-Another hit for both was the start of the Dakar Race in Buenos Aires

Favourite Cruise

- the jury is still undecided on that one. We are going to have to take many more cruises to answer that correctly

Mariner of the Seas–14 Nights from Sao Paulo to Rome

After a 4 ½ hour red eye flight from Lima to Sao Paulo on the 12th of March, by 9am we were stumbling around the airport looking for the free shuttle bus to the Panamby Hotel. Believe it or not, the shuttle arrived and whisked us to the airport hotel in about 20 minutes. Early check-in (9:30am) was a gift. After hours and hours of researching hotels in Sao Paulo, we found most of them to be far too expensive for our meagre budget, so we were amazed at what CA$61.00 bought for us at the Panamby. A lovely, comfy room with a luscious bed that held us captive, dead as the Lords of Sipan, until supper time. We woke, showered and headed for the dining room at 7pm Brazil time. It was a buffet, quite lovely, quite delicious but fairly pricey as it cost almost the same price as the room! Have I mentioned that Sao Paulo is ‘squeeze the breath from your wheezing lungs’ expensive? Not as bad as Paris or Tokyo but almost. In spite of the whining wallet hardship we held ourselves together like troopers because the alternative was – go home and hide in the closet where the living is cheap but very dark! Immediately after dinner we rolled like stuffed sausages back to our room and slid into the sack again. Slept like we were Sipan Lords until the next morning. Then we were refreshed and excited! Getting to the port at Santos from the Panamby Hotel at Sao Paulo airport was no small accomplishment. Internet reports said a taxi to Santos would cost at least US$100. Ha! We were excessively determined not to pay anywhere near that much. We had read there was a bus...

Cruise morning anticipation is something like hurling through space doing one-handed cartwheels. Flying high, spinning fast and landing soft – our kind of travel. We skipped breakfast and took the free shuttle to the airport to catch the 8am Translitoral Bus to Santos, the port city for Sao Paulo. We asked where we were supposed to wait for Translitoral and another bus driver pointed to the place. We were there, ladies and gentlemen! Shoulder to elbow in the confusion and chaos of the busiest airport in South America. Right on time, there it was. Translitoral, oh my little dahling, carry me ahwaay. Bus to Santos, a 1 ½ hour ride, cost less than US$1000 but - we had to then take a taxi to the pier. Total came to about CA$70.00 and we had to move our own luggage – an astonishing outlay for people as cheap as we are. We consoled ourselves that it was worth every penny because the Royal Caribbean transfers were much more expensive and blah, blah, blah and moan and groan. We are getting pretty tired of moaning about taxis – have you noticed?

Check-in at Santos port was unquestionably the largest mess of pandemonious chaos we experienced on the entire trip. And whose fault was it? Our own (mouthed in a little tiny o-shaped whisper). The cruise documents, you see, clearly stated that RCI passengers should arrive at Santos no earlier than 2pm – and we were there and revving into cartwheel mode at 10:30am. What were we thinking? There were five ships in port – so how about these numbers? Five times say, 2000 passengers disembarking is, give or take, 10,000 people – and 5 times say, 2000 new passengers taking their place is, give or take, 10,000. So if all the twains shall meet then 20,000 people with their own agenda were trying to launch their cartwheels right in our face. What a mess! Completely disregard and strike from the record anything I have written in the past about crowds and/or pushing mobs. This was the all-time thronging icing on the ship of fool’s cake. Surely to goodness we will never do that again. Truth is though, we were quite worried about missing the transfer and thought that early was better. Ha, ha, ha….a lame excuse for pitiably poor planning. In fact I’m lucky the man with the wallet didn’t fire me.

Now here’s the good news. We will ignore what happened for those crowded hours – you don’t want to hear about it anyway. About 2:30pm we were able to check-in, make our way on board and find cabin 6295. Like temporary labour pains of giving birth, everything disappeared when we met the new baby! She was gorgeous! And she was all ours for fourteen nights – from Sao Paulo to Rome. Port stops in Rio, Salvador and Tenerife were only side-benefits. Who could ask for more? Well we could have – for some reason we were not upgraded to one of the suites. Nasty and unforgivable of RCI, really...

This is what Royal Caribbean writes about the ship – ‘guests on Mariner of the Seas experience one of the most exciting cruise ships ever built. With a total length of 1,020 feet, a weight of 138,000 tons and a capacity to hold 3,114 passengers, Mariner of the Seas has something for everyone. Part of the Voyager class of cruise ships, which represents the highest public space-per-guest ratio in the cruise market, this spectacular ship was designed with enhanced staterooms, expanded dining options and state-of-the-art recreational facilities like a rock-climbing wall, ice-skating rink and basketball court.’

This is what Donna writes about the ship. The Mariner of the Seas boasts 1,202 crew members who originated in 62 countries - a lot of people when you think about it. Also interesting, there are 123 couples working side by side on the Mariner. The ship’s focal point is an architectural masterpiece - a three story interior promenade with coffee shop, wine bar, Irish Pub and plenty of shopping. At each end of the promenade, glass elevators carry guests the height of the ship, fourteen stories. Our cabin had a promenade view – a window that overlooked the action day and night, with a window seat and adjacent sofa. An inviting living room area where we enjoyed breakfast room-service on several occasions. Details of the cabin are long and fat, way too extensive for this narrative, so you will have to look at the photos and take our word for it – unless Royal Caribbean puts us on their payroll and makes us couple 124.

Remember where we boarded the ship? Sao Paulo, right? Brazil. So can you guess what nationality dominated everything on board? Of the 3,114 passengers about 75% spoke Portuguese. Let me tell you there were more Brazilians on the Mariner than we left behind in Brazil (almost). Hundreds of them and at least half were young – in their 20’s, 30’s and 40’s. And what fun people to watch. Brazilians love life. They have music and movement embedded in everything they do. A comedian at one of the night shows did a skit about three cultures and how differently they might approach the desert bar on the Mariner. First was a French man who picked up a plate walked back and forth along the buffet, turned up his nose, put the plate back and walked away. Next was an American. He picked up a plate and with rapid movements loaded the plate to the hilt, started to walk away and then quickly returned to pile on two more pieces. Next was a Brazilian man who picked up a plate as music started playing somewhere 100 miles away. He started dancing along the line, back and forth, the plate moving up and down as he made a couple of selections. The comedian nailed the cultural quirks bang on and brought down the house with laughter.

Most Brazilians were slim and trim, some very wealthy, many were extremely good looking and wow! you should have seen the clothes! They outdid the Italians and French on the Costa Victoria by a nautical mile. Man oh man we mature ladies have gotta get rid of our runners and get into something a little more dramatic, like five inch heels! And we gotta get busy and hem up our skirts too – there was more leg showing on the promenade on formal nights than at some famous beaches during a heat wave (maybe not Ipanema). On one of the three formal nights we skipped dinner in the dining room, ordered a bottle of wine at the wine bar and sat and sipped at a ringside table on the promenade. It was one of the most memorable and fun nights of the cruise. A fashion show with top class performers. Gorgeous Latino hunks with babes that would rival the runways in Paris or Milan. Wink, wink, fortunately for Donna, Richard failed to notice that some of the low cut evening dresses had cleavage bubbling over the top and hems that swished high above ridiculously long legs and pricey shoes. Yes they wore expensive jewellery too, and that’s another thing he failed to notice (ha ha).

These people who seem to love life so much brought plenty of kids along with them, maybe Spring break? We don’t know. English speakers were definitely a minority and it did us a world of good to see first hand that our way is not the only way and it is not necessarily the best way.

We couldn’t help but compare the two cruises – our 20 night Atlantic crossing in December on the three star Costa Victoria and our fourteen night Atlantic crossing in March on the much newer and much larger 4.5 star Mariner of the Seas. We concluded that the quality of the food in the dining room on both ships was equal, as was the dining room service. We sat at a larger table on the Victoria and all of our table mates were real characters – people who made us laugh so hard every night that we never wanted to miss a meal for fear we wouldn’t be able to catch up. Our table mates on the Mariner were all nice and very interesting but much more reserved.

Even though the ship held about 800 more people, lines at the Windjammer Buffet on the Mariner were much shorter and less confused than on the Victoria, mainly because the area was larger and there were many more work stations. But the seating for the buffet was all inside on the Mariner, albeit spread through several massive areas that were surrounded by wall to wall windows. Inside buffet seating on the Victoria was very crowded and the Italians always seemed to be grabbing everything just ahead, but the outside seating area on the back deck, sheltered from the wind, was fabulous and at breakfast every morning, the feeling and sense of place was magical as the sun and the ocean were ‘right there’.

No question about it, the Mariner wins hands down when it comes to entertainment. RCI runs top-class Vegas style shows with big name entertainers who are always good. Each production show with RCI’s own orchestra, dancers and singers (there are at least two of these types of shows on every seven night cruise) cost at least $1 million to set up. Best of the best entertainment though was the Mariner’s Show on Ice – simply spectacular with professional skaters, some of them from Alberta, and enough exotic props and costumes to whirl your mind. The show on ice was the best ice show we have ever seen – anywhere, ever!

Now let’s talk about fitness. No question, the Mariner has state of the art equipment while the Victoria has state of the arc. Low ceilings above the treadmills made the Victoria dangerous for tall people on the run, and their equipment was old. Both ships had lovely walking decks for outdoor exercise, and both ships had spectacular swimming pool decks that were super busy when the weather was right. Costa closed all their pools at a certain time every night though, but on the Mariner several pools and hot tubs remained open 24 hours.

The cabin on the Mariner was larger and had a window, but we paid for it because a promenade view cost more. In fact the cash outlay for both cruises was about the same, but of course in one way the Victoria was better value because it was six nights longer and had a more interesting itinerary with ten ports in five countries. But it was not near as classy. Another thing, in the middle of winter it is much nicer to sail from a cold place to a warm place as we did on the Victoria. Returning to Europe in March on the Mariner meant that everyone was indoors for the last few days because Mediterranean wind and clouds  made the pool deck, other than the hot tubs, off-limits. Even though the Mariner was more expensive it was still money well spent because the ship is an architectural miracle. Just wonderful to walk around and actually see how clever the architects were to design and create such an elegant, classy, massive city that actually has to float - and has a delightful interior promenade, dozens of lounges scattered on various decks, a large library, an internet room (internet cost $35.00 per hour on the Mariner), a skating rink, rock climbing wall, an inline skating track, basketball court, miniature golf course and so on. It also boasted several floors of curved staircases with glitzy lighting that offered photos opportunities galore. There was always at least one live band playing somewhere, and a DJ playing music on the promenade, and a quiet lounge with a guitar player and so on. And those Brazilians? Well they were rocking the boat with feet dancing to the music…

About shopping. The Mariner had a large duty free cosmetic store onboard – I mean big. We must have been busy somewhere else on the ship or just weren’t paying attention because we did not see this, but when the ship finally reached International Waters which is the maritime rule for duty free and casino opening (usually 50 miles from shore) the cosmetic store unlocked its doors. Within just a few hours (we heard two to be exact) the Brazilians had bought the shelves clean. Literally almost nothing left and a testament to how high prices really are in Brazil.

The twenty night sailing on the Victoria in December gave us calm seas all the way across the Atlantic. We could not believe it. The fourteen night sailing back across the Atlantic in March was the same, barely a white cap. Richard’s sea bands never saw the light of day except on the busses in Ecuador and Peru. Would we do another trans Atlantic cruise if we had the opportunity? You bet we would, they are one of the best travel values on earth.

Next report will be from Rome, get your Vespa ready!

Chiclayo and the Lord of Sipan

This is an artists conception of the Lambayeque area near Chiclayo called Sipan, showing the royal Moche temple where burial site of the Lord of Sipan was found in 1987.  It dates from about 1000 to 1300AD and predates the arrival of the Incas in that area by about 200 years.  Today the pyramids look like eroded mounds because they were literally made with sand stones (adobe).  Every El Nino year the ruins disintegrate more and more from the heavy rains.  We were thrilled to see them in such a state and realize that some day they will disappear completely - the hand of nature is eternally stronger than the frailty of human hands.

 

 

Our trip around the area was booked through Moche Tours and was informative and fun under the direction of tour guide, Juan – originally from Lima.  He now lives in Chiclayo and proudly guides people around his favourite ruins and helps them understand the history and culture of the Moche.

 

 

The tomb of the Lord of Sipan.  Some archaeologists hold it to be one of the most important archaeological discoveries in this region of the world in the last 30 years, as the main tomb was found intact and untouched by thieves.  The clothing of the warrior and ruler suggest he was approximately 1.67 m tall.  He probably died within three months of governing. His jewellery and ornaments indicate he was of the highest rank, and include pectoral, necklaces, nose rings, ear rings, helmets, falconry and bracelets.  Most were made of gold, silver, copper, gold and semi-precious stones.  In his tomb were found more than 400 jewels.

The Lord of Sipan was wearing a precious necklace with beads of gold and silver in the shape of peanuts represent the earth. The peanuts symbolized that men came from the land, and that when they die, they return back to the earth; the Moches harvested peanuts for food. The necklace has 10 kernels to the right, which are gold, signifying masculinity and the sun god, while the kernels on the left side are silver, to represent femininity and the moon god.

Below the tomb of the Lord of Sipan, two other tombs were found: that of a priest and of the Old Lord of Sipan. DNA analysis of the remains established that the priest was contemporary with the Lord of Sipan.  Artefacts in his tomb are believed to be related to religion: the cup or bowl for the sacrifices, a metal crown adorned with an owl with its wings extended, and other items for worship of the moon.

The burial site was reconstructed inside the Royal Tombs Museum of Sipan.  It's main attraction is the Lord of Sipan and his entourage, who accompanied him to the afterword. The warriors who were buried with him had amputated feet, as if to prevent their leaving the tomb. Two accompanying women were dressed in ceremonial clothes.  Dogs, llamas, and more than 80 works of ceramic pottery were also buried in the tomb.

For more information about the Lord of Sipan, take a look at this:

Link to information about the Lord of Sipan

Lima Lima Love You Lima

By email we requested three nights at the Hostal el Patio in Miraflores, recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide. We were told by Alvaro that he could accommodate us but that March bookings were heavy so we would have to change to a different room every day. We accepted. The hotel is prettier than a Grimm’s fairy tale with one of the wolves lurking in Granny’s garden. A sanctuary of flowers, interesting plants, song birds, gently gurgling fountains, soft weather, welcoming shade and friendly staff. Therapeutic and restful - the perfect sub-title. We unpacked in a new room each day and soon discovered the patio on the second floor. You bet we made good use of it, a place in the garden to put up our feet, sip a glass of wine and meet interesting people from around the world. As a matter of fact the first person we met was Felicity, a gorgeous, tall and slender girl who we discovered without too much surprise, was Canadian. In fact she told us she is a hostess on the Rocky Mountaineer and had only recently moved to Vancouver from Calgary. She said a little nervously that Hostal el Patio was the first stop of her two month trip around South America – by herself! Think about that Richard and Donna as you clutch your possessions with a titan grip and suspiciously eye the blameless and continually-picked-on taxi drivers. Backpackers, people with real luggage (try telling that to Thelma and Louis), people with Lonely Planet Guides, British, German, French, North American, some wearing expensive hiking boots and some wearing sensible sandals – a presentation of adventurous humanity arriving and departing the Hostal in continuous rotation. Fine looking folks too, the kind of people you might meet in the high Andes wearing Tilley hats and zip-offs or taking notes at a lecture about Inca mythology or archaeology, contentedly sipping coffee in the breakfast room every morning. All of them independently lured to Peru for one reason and one reason only. What, oh what could that reason be, you ask? Machu Picchu. Surely one of the most incredible sights on earth. Now are you ready for this? Cover our heads in shame with a colourfully woven Peruvian blanket; we did not go to Machu Picchu. We are the only tourists in the history of modern science to arrive Peru with plenty of time who chose not to visit Machu Picchu. Instead we rode to Chiclayo on a night bus, 12 hours north in the direction of Guayaquil. But more about Chiclayo and the Lord of Sipan in the next story. After Chiclayo we returned to Hostal el Patio for two nights before flying to Brazil. Alvaro told us we would have to change rooms again. So! Five nights - five different rooms. I think, as unofficial members of the Hostal el Patio Club, that after the fourth move we became qualified experts on the important topic of never opening the section of your luggage that contains the dirty clothes. Unless you are doing so under the protection of the armed guards at the laundry next door. Whew! We got those smelly little puppies out of the bag just in time. ‘Hello….’ Two loads of laundry, one blanco and one colored, cost fifteen Soles, about CA$5.00.

Things you should know about Lima Lima Love:

The Good
The vista of the beaches, the surfers, the sun bathers and the Pacific Ocean from the pathway at the top of Larco Mar in Miraflores, is simply stunning. We had read about this dramatic perspective in various travel guides but you have to see it to believe it. Who knew that the Peruvians would boast about Machu Picchu to the entire world but keep quiet about the spectacular scenery inside their city limits? I want to buy a condo in Miraflores with a view of Larco Mar and the Pacific Ocean, and spend time there every year when we’re not cruising, travelling in other countries or spending quality time with our family and friends.

Museo Herrera Larco, opened in 1926, is one of the five top rated archaeological museums in the world. We spent an afternoon wandering the halls and ante-rooms and the lovely manicured gardens, marvelling at just how clever so many ancient Peruvian civilizations were to produce such brilliant works of gold, pottery and weavings. One of the storerooms showcases more than 40,000 catalogued items found in various sites around Peru. The museum tied in nicely with our visit to Chiclayo and the tomb of the Lord of Sipan – more about that in our next report.

We happened to find a hairdresser in Miraflores who used the largest scissors in the world to cut our hair - think upgraded hedge clippers - but she did a good job as the insatiable jaws opened and closed so quickly one millimetre from our ears and cranium. The wind caused by the rapid movement of the blades was strong enough to blow the hair away from the protective plastic body cover and pile it neatly in the corner next to the dust pan. The cost of a five star haircut by the largest scissors in the world – twenty Soles, about CA$7.00, and the hairdresser did a remarkably good job! She smiled beautifully at her tip.

In the same shop was another woman. The pedi and mani girl. Don’t be fooled just because her associate gave a five star performance with oversized equipment – this gal was far more interested in the afternoon soap opera than the cuticles on anyone’s hands and feet. But she did get the job done and with a passable three star result. Cost thirty Soles for both, about CA10.00 for fingers and toes.

Miraflores restaurants serve delightful cuisine from pretty much every angle of the world. Prices are reasonable and the food is of high quality. We did not get sick. Miraflores has several casinos (as do most cities in South America). Money exchange is an even-handed affair in Peru unlike some countries we have visited where the Canadian dollar is worth two radishes and a broken shoe lace – one Peruvian Sole costs only about 35 cents Canadian. So, for you gamblers in the crowd, playing the slot machines in Peru means your money goes three times further before you lose everything and end up in debtor’s prison. But that isn’t the wondrous part. Are you ready? If you happen to be in some particular casinos in Miraflores between 1:30 and 3:00 in the afternoon, you are given free lunch right at your slot machine. It’s true!! Once and for all we can personally put an end to the ‘there’s no free lunch’ theory. One day we were served a yummy plate of stuffed pork tenderloin with rice and a delightful little side salad. Astonishing really. We could chomp and romp through our waning field of cash with satisfaction written all over our faces – picture the Von Trapp family running happily down the side of the mountain to a blissful little picnic with Mary Poppins. Who knew? But are you ready for this? There’s an even more startling aspect to Peru gaming – I hope it doesn’t give you a heart attack. If you happen to be in the Fiesta Casino playing the slots at about 8:30pm every night, they serve you dinner! I know, I know – catch your breath. For goodness sakes why isn’t the entire world gambling in the Fiesta Casino in Lima every night at 8:30pm, that’s what we want to know. One thing is sure. If we were in Lima tonight you would be able to meet us there at 8:30. Come hungry! So the long and the short of it is, as soon as we made these important discoveries we abstained from fine dining in the pizza restaurants and started running down the mountain for our picnic with Mary Poppins. Way more fun! Our CA$5.00 a day gambling budget started paying off too, and by the time we headed to the airport in a cab (with Thelma and Louis safe and secure in the trunk) we were borderline semi-quasi wealthy – and that’s saying a lot in a 100% fact-free statement.
Lima’s old town is filled with everything you want to see on a visit to a big city and most of it is concentrated around Plaza de Armas. Old stuff, new stuff, beautifully maintained architecture, bleak and impossibly worn down buildings, wonderful open air plazas, block after block of affordable shopping and just out of sight behind this pillar or that post, unseen observers waiting for you to make a mistake with your wallet or your camera, your shopping bag or backpack. Central Lima is well dressed with suits and shiny shoes, politicians, clergy, expensive cars and everything else you can think of. Lima’s importance within the nation is so overwhelming that some scholars suggest there are two Perus: Lima and the rest of the country. Lima’s metropolitan area has a population of 9 million, about one-third of the nation’s total.
Lima was founded by Spanish soldier Francisco Pizarro, but the fountain in the central square that was built in 1651 in his honour is brand new compared to the day they buried the Lord of Sipan. An earthquake in 1746 destroyed all the colonial structures on the plaza, but fortunately for today’s wondering eyes, they were rebuilt. Lima’s cathedral (begun after the earthquake) faces the plaza and contains a coffin said to hold Pizarro’s remains. Adjoining the cathedral is the Archbishop’s Palace which features elegant carved-wood balconies typical of Lima’s colonial architecture. City hall is across the plaza, and the Government Palace, home to the country’s president, occupies the block between the cathedral and city hall. At first we did not know why there were so many armed guards, soldiers, riot police and riot control vehicles in the area. Even Dirty Harry was there wielding his 44 Magnum asking everyone, ‘do ya feel lucky, punk?’, then we realized the Presidential Palace must be the reason. So we behaved ourselves and never once got arrested, shot at, deported or attacked by pooping pigeons.

The Bad
Lima has multiple layers of taxi drivers – like the caste system in India. Airport taxis are unmarked, limousine type vehicles that whisk passengers into the city for a prepaid price set by the airport authority. Cool. But there is a problem. A warning on the Hostal el Patio website advises people taking taxis from the airport to place everything in the trunk of the car. Apparently a stooge watches to see what cars have valuables stowed in the back seat then calls ahead to associates waiting at various traffic lights on the way into the city. The associate approaches the stopped car from behind, knows what to look for in the back seat, reaches through the open window or yanks open the door, grabs and runs. Fortunately we arrived in Lima by bus so we only had to contend with lower level thievery. Taxi rates are posted to various areas of Lima on a sign outside the Cruz del Sur bus station. The sign read, Miraflores 12 Soles. ‘How much to Miraflores?’ we asked a hard working, honest and only marginally perspiring taxi driver (in his opinion). Twenty Soles, came the reply.

There is No Ugly

Next report will be about Chiclayo – an amazing find.

The beautiful coastal desert of Peru

The scenery from the Cruz del Sur window as we rode from Ecuador to Lima was extremely interesting.   After leaving the lush and tropical-like banana belt of Ecuador we were soon travelling through hundreds of miles of irrigated sugar cane fields in Peru.  Sugar cane is one of Peru’s largest export crops.  Then the landscape changed dramatically.  Our big surprise was seeing the vastness of Peru's Sechura Desert.  It runs along most of the coast and inland to the Andes Mountains.  Stunning sights of pure, gorgeous sandy desert on one side and the colourful, always moving Pacific Ocean on the other.

Lima Lima Lima

Lima is exactly the place we have been searching for on every trip we have ever taken, we just didn’t know it.  Lima is a huge and sprawling city of almost 9 million, but Miraflores is a classy, high-end district of less than 100,000.   As soon as we set foot in Miraflores we recognized it as a winner; it has everything we love.  Miraflores is as classy as any city in Europe with shopping, restaurants, museums, casinos, hotels and tens of thousands of tourists, but it also has lovely weather, a stunning view of the Pacific Ocean, beaches, water sports, parks with outstanding landscapes and, unlike other parts of Lima, it is relatively safe day and night.  We found a charming little place to stay, Hostal el Patio, highly recommended by the Lonely Planet Guide.  Lima Lima Lima, we love you!

Adios Ecuador

Well, if  you put all your hopes and dreams in a jar and wake up one morning to find the jar is missing, then you know how we feel about Ecuador.  Impossible to believe that five weeks passed so quickly.  We paid the deposit for our Santa Marianita studio in May of 2010, so we had been thinking about the beach for a long time.  Ecuador was filled with interesting sights, noisy busses, wonderful dinners, incredible beaches, glorious sunsets and the fun of meeting interesting people from around the world.  But something was missing from our time at the beach and it was this. Walking! Exploring the sights at the pace of one foot in front of the other. In Quito we were too sick and some areas were too dangerous do do much walking. In Salinas our hotel was too far from the beach so walking was confined to the malecon. At Santa Marianita the beach was lovely for a morning walk but not all the time because of the tides.   Most days when the tide was out, it was mid afternoon – far too hot for walking.   I know.  I know what you’re thinking! How dare we complain about the heat?

Most Ecuadorians we met were friendly, warm and polite, happy to be of assistance in any circumstance.  Many were friends of friends.  However, we noticed sometimes at the handicraft markets, at the fruit and vegetable markets, in some stores, some taxi drivers, at some tourist sights, often in line-ups, Ecuadorians were not happy to see tourists at all.  In fact we sensed an underlying disdain for our presence on more than one occasion.   We spoke with Denis, Linda’s right hand man who is Ecuadorian, about this.  He said the almost rude apathy found at the markets is typical – they treat all customers like that, including Ecuadorians.  We may have encountered something like this in other tourist destinations but in Ecuador we felt there is an underlying sentiment that the people have ‘had enough’.  Tourists?  Government?  Low wages?  Poor living and working conditions?  High food costs? Enough of what exactly, we're not sure.  

And one more thing that is a concern.  Linda, the lady who owns the guest house, has a guard who lives with his family in a small house behind the property.  The guard has a young daughter about nine years old who often comes to visit Linda and her guests. Linda mentioned with sizeable regret that this little girl does not go to school, very concerning because without an education her future is almost cut and dried.  Maid or prostitute – those are usually the only choices for uneducated girls in rural Ecuador.  Very, very disturbing as the babies having babies cycle repeats itself.   And what do we do about that?

Cruz del Sur

Okay, it’s time to change the subject.  Ha ha just kidding – it’s buses again.  But we are going to elevate bus standards as you know them – think first class on an airplane.  But wait, let’s back up a little.  Donna was reading on Fodor’s website that as of January 17, 2011 Cruz del Sur was offering a new service between Guayaquil and Lima.  Cruz del Sur is a Peruvian Bus Company, one of the highest rated in South America.  Traditionally there are lots of problems with Latin American bus companies, especially with robberies, petty theft, poor security, drunk bus drivers, speeding, poor maintenance and poor road conditions.    

As further testament, feel free to read the following links (part one and part two) if you are interested – called ‘Being Drugged and Left Penniless in Peru’ written by a part time columnist for the NY Times.  The unfortunate situation happened recently to the author.

http://artofbackpacking.com/travel-drugged-robbed-penny-less-peru/

http://artofbackpacking.com/drugged-robbed-penny-less-peru-2/

Anyway, after chasing the sketchy information about the best bus service between Ecuador and Peru around on the internet we were eventually able to book seats online with Cruz del Sur.  March 1st departure Guayaquil to Lima.   The tickets cost about CA$75 per person for the 28 hour trip (less than $3 per hour) and included  complimentary dinner, breakfast and lunch.  Now here’s the double scoop.  The buses are double decker, first class is the lower deck where the seats are larger, only 12 seats configured  2 and 1.  They recline almost completely and have full on leg rests like an airplane.  The upper deck sways more and is less desirable, plus the seats are configured differently and offer a little less room.  Two drivers stay with the bus the entire journey and rotate the driving every four hours.   A flight attendant is also on board, serves the meals and looks after passenger’s needs.  Our attendant spoke some English (although none of the announcements reflected that).  The drivers are able to watch what is going on in both cabins via cameras, and the door to the lower cabin is locked during the night to prevent unlawful entry.  The buses are monitored by GPS at all times.  Two bathrooms, one on each level are cleaned regularly and supplies are updated when necessary.  Cruz del Sur does not hire drivers who drink and their driving speed is limited (except when passing) to 90 kph.  To keep drivers honest, if their speed passes 90 a warning message shows on an LED sign inside both cabins so passengers know.   Pillows and blankets are supplied, music and movies rotate continually at pleasing volume and there is on board Wi-Fi in G3 areas.  When the bus stopped at the border in Peru after leaving Ecuador, passengers had to disembark and enter customs and immigration.  As people filed back to the bus both drivers and the attendant urged everyone to hurry and get back on board.  They were warning everyone that the area was ‘very dangerous’!  We did what we were told and hustled back to our seats.

No matter how fancy a bus can be, 28 1/2 hours is a long trip.

Ciao, Ecuador….

Next stop - Lima

A few more from the beach

 

 

 

 

Friends and Good Times

 

 

 

 

Ecuador–between Colombia and Peru

International Living Magazine

http://internationalliving.com/

helpx website

http://helpx.net/

Falling from a space ship…

So you’re way, way up there in your dream.  You are the pilot of the spaceship, climbing, soaring and careening into dives that make your heart pound.  Roller coaster butterflies thrill inside your stomach.  You are totally in control.  You look down and see interesting little specks below but out ahead is where the real rush waits.  You pull on more power, master and commander of the universe.  Suddenly and without time to prepare, the spaceship flips over and you begin falling.  Falling.  Falling.  When you wake up you are miraculously unhurt and have somehow managed to land in the exact place that you have been trying to find in your dreams for years – but you could never quite ‘get there’ because the alarm always went off two seconds too early. 

You pick yourself up and look around.  Where am I, you wonder?  I can’t be on Gilligan’s Island because it’s not tropical.  The hills are brown and barren - sparse vegetation trying to grow in rills of sandy terrain.  You notice that the line of mountains behind you are not majestic cliffs of granite, they are towering sand dunes intermittently gashed with deep canyons caused by run-off.  This must be the rainy season you figure, because the day is cloudy, hot and very humid.  Then you hear it.  Then you see it.  The sea.  So noisy, continually rumbling and turning inside out, so frantic to rush in a hundred directions at the same time.  Pelicans seem content with the roaring and commotion as they glide a few inches above the waves, but your prairie ears are not.  And then you look down.  Sand everywhere.  In your clothes, in your toes, in your hair,  You begin to brush yourself off but the sand grates against your skin like sandpaper and sticks like glue.  Sand and sea everywhere you look.

Your eyes zero in and begin to focus as you look around – the scene is actually much nicer than you first thought.  In spite of the noise and confusion the ocean is just gorgeous.  It’s warm and playful and continually fills the air with mist and rhythm.  As you watch, the colors on the surface of the sea are affected by the energy of every single thing in the area – the sun, the clouds, the wind, the time of day, the tide.  In one millisecond the ocean can spin a thousand shades between green and silver.  The beach is wide and inviting too, even though it is made of sand it is hard packed and easy to walk on, especially at low tide.  You notice a few cabanas spread along the beach – they look so rustic and inviting with the emerald sea floating in the background.   Another thing you notice – there’s no one around.  Who knew there was a single place left on earth with such beautiful sea and sky, and no one there to enjoy it?   Whoops, you hardly have time to finish that thought when you spot a lone figure and a dog walking along the beach in the distance.  At least the place is not entirely deserted.  Then you notice a few homes scattered in the hills and are surprised because some appear to be new and modern.  You walk along the shore and there, in the distance are two dozen fishing boats pulled to high ground in front of a picturesque fishing village.  Ha! There’s way more life here than you first thought.  Then it hits you – the entire scene is surreal, mystifyingly surreal, like you’re a single color in a vast oil painting.  Sun, sea, sand, sky, warm breeze, not crowded.  Too good to be true.  It reminds you of a gorgeous beach resort you visited a few years ago when you searched so hard for a postcard to send home, a card that perfectly described every detail: the place, the moment, the excitement and your feelings.  You realize with a chuckle that you won’t have that problem here, the perfect postcard is all around.  You don’t have to buy it and you don’t need a stamp. 

But where are you?   Then you see the sign, Kite Beach.  Apparently the place is famous for kite surfing.  You continue reading - Santa Marianita Beach, Ecuador.  Now you know the name.  You have identified the place that’s been missing at the end of your dream.  

And we’re here too.  You fell out of your space ship, we came on the bus.  We did not know a place like this existed anywhere in the world.  Even after years of travel, we have never imagined this setting.  For the first two weeks after our arrival we felt like we were on another planet, the place is that unusual. One of the most remarkable things about Santa Marianita Beach aside from scenery and weather is Linda, an American woman who speaks almost no Spanish yet has somehow managed to reinvent herself in Ecuador.  She owns a little guest house on the beach in Santa Marianita.  She moved from Florida six years ago after suffering the loss of three family members in unrelated incidents.  After four years in Manta she eventually built the two story beach house.  The lower floor has two large studio apartments that are available for rent year-round and the top floor has a few bedrooms that she sometimes rents but they are usually occupied by ‘Helpx’ workers (more about that later).  The studio apartments are fairly new, spacious, nicely furnished, well equipped and affordable.  Linda is very laid-back, a one-woman organizer who suggests rather than commands, and she is at the core of a fairly large expat community.  She pretty much knows everyone in the area who was not born in Ecuador.  Her new life has made room for three loveable dogs (Vi and Dave may question the word loveable!) that she rescued from disastrous situations as well as eight cats.  We never know who has the biggest smile, the animals or Linda.  If you leave things alone long enough they will take care of themselves – Linda’s philosophy.  She told us that sometimes when she’s driving in Manta people often give her a friendly wave, then she realized they were not waving, they were trying to tell her she was driving down a one way street the wrong way - she giggles about that and then adds, in Florida they shoot you for making a mistake like that.  That’s why I love Ecuador so much, people only wave.  

Since the beginning of February we have been catching our breath inside the dream.  Most days we do nothing but read, write, think, walk and socialize.  No phone, wifi yes, TV yes – but we never turn it on.  The air in Santa Marianita is wonderful.  No pollution.  It is soft and moist and fresh on your skin and is always being pushed around by a pleasant breeze.  Occasionally we sit in the sand, as close as we can get to Papua New Guinea, and have a toast to the sunset.  We bring our own wine and wine glasses of course, because those are extras.  Everything else in the theatre is supplied by Mother Nature.  The flaming best sunsets on earth happen in Panavision right in front of our wondering eyes.  Sunsets so vast you can see the backbone and the ribs of the sky as they support the weight of the most dazzling colors on earth.  Our all time favourite sunset happened in Kuta Beach, Bali, in 2003.  Good on us, now we have a tie.   

Other things we have learned since we stepped off the bus –  Linda arranges for people from an organization called ‘Helpx’ to work at the beach house.  Helpx.net lists situations around the world where young people can assist with chores for four hours a day in exchange for free accommodation.  The first Helpx we met was Brecht, a nice young man from Leuven, Belgium, who reminded me very much of how Caenen might look when he is the same age.  Brecht is working his way around Ecuador until he starts university in September.  Two days later, Dave from the UK and Bennie from Australia arrived, a couple who plan to work their way through South America until June 2011.  Another Helpx is Denis, Linda’s right hand man.  Denis is Ecuadorian and assists with language translation, computer problems, driving and everything else.  Sadly for Linda, Denis is leaving in early March for a year of university studies in Germany. 

On a more sombre note, just before we arrived at Linda’s a Helpx couple from Hungary fell in love with the sea and took ‘a bath’ several times each day.  They were warned to be careful because the waves were unusually high due to a previous storm.  On January the 29th they entered the sea at about 5pm and he was caught in a riptide and carried away.  Sadly for everyone concerned, he drowned.  His body washed ashore three days later and his fiancé started the process of taking his remains back to Hungary.  Very traumatic for Linda and all her guests and a brutal reminder that life is as fragile as a wave.

What about the food in Ecuador?  Sometimes we eat at the apartment, sometimes we share the cooking, sometimes we eat in Manta or at a beach restaurant.  Groceries can be purchased from several large stores in Manta and while some food is very inexpensive (fruit and vegetables) other products are not.  Most of the time the food in this part of Ecuador is excellent and affordable, especially if you like seafood and fish.  But not beef or pork – almost always tough.  The beer.  Well it’s cheap and there’s plenty of it.

And what about the kites?  Unfortunately for us the winds of kite season change in January so when we arrived on February 1st the party was over.  We would love to have see them soaring over the ocean but it will have to be another time.  During kite season there are three schools right near Linda’s Landing.  People come from all over the world, but mainly Europe and South America, to participate.  When it’s not kite season and it’s not a weekend, Santa Marianita is deserted.      

Manta is twenty minutes by car from Santa Marianita.  She is not a very pretty city and sometimes she smells quite fishy.  She is the tuna capital of Ecuador.  Manta is home to a fairly large expat community - many have lived there for years but more and more seem to be arriving every day.  Do you know why?  In September 2010, International Living Magazine declared Ecuador to be the best expat retirement country in the world.  Many retirees are renting but most own real estate and reside permanently in Ecuador for exactly the same reasons that expats move to Lake Chapala or retirement communities anywhere.  Climate, low cost of living and a strong social network.  One thing we have noticed is that even though real estate is a hot topic, almost nobody talks about health care – quite the opposite to our time in Mexico.  Thanks to Linda, we have met some mighty interesting people.  Most of them live in Manta, most are permanent, some are snowbirds, many are in the process of doing retirement research.  Folks from Florida, Texas, California, Washington, New York and the southern States, but the vast majority of old and new arrivals are Canadian.  Americans cannot believe they are being outnumbered more and more everyday by Canadians in Ecuador.  Our friends Vi and Dave, the best socializers in western Canada, live in the studio next door.  If it weren’t for them we wouldn’t be here at all.  They returned home last year raving about Ecuador so this year many of their friends have paid Linda a visit.  Before we arrived in Santa Marianita we were quite worried about feeling trapped in such a tiny place, but that has not been a problem.  On the other hand, when it is time to head to Peru at the end of the month we will be primed and ready for a boatload of new adventure.  And do you remember Paul and Lindsey, the young backpackers we met on the Costa Victoria who later stayed with us in Buenos Aires?  Well, they happened to be in Cuenca and took the bus to Manta.  We met up again at Linda’s.  They stayed several nights and entertained us with stories about their travels including a robbery in Peru.  A delightful young couple we lovingly refer to as our parents because they keep checking up on us.  Take a look at their blog if you want more information.

Well, there’s much more to tell about Santa Marianita but this postcard is long enough.  We have turned your spaceship upside down and dropped you at the end of a dream,  Hope you enjoyed the visit.    

 

Check this out if you love kite surfing

Link to information about Santa Marianita Beach, Ecuador

Guayaquil, Salinas and Bananas

Guayaquil

Take a close look at photos of the interesting green characters hanging out in the park across the street from the Continental Hotel. They are the retired long distance bus drivers. It’s pretty common knowledge that after a career of driving the ear-splitting route between Quito and Guayaquil they heroically retire from the supremacy of sound to a life of peaceful tranquility in the park. We were told by a reliable source that they often reminisce about the good old days of music and fun on the road.

At more than three million, metro Guayaquil is huge, bigger than your city-scape imagination can handle without a headache – but unlike Quito the headache is not caused by high altitude because it sits at only 13.2 feet about sea level. We arrived at a secondary bus station, not the main fancy one, in rush hour traffic and fell off the bus in a daze, trying to scrape together a few spare ear drums. A taxi driver started hanging around like a persistent fly – we thought maybe he wanted to sell us his car. You should have seen it, a worn out Russian Lada from the early ‘80s. Even though we swatted him away a few times, after an in-depth discussion we finally realized he just wanted to drive us to the Continental Hotel downtown. In actual fact, the cost of the trip and the value of his car were the same amount – luckily we stopped him before he signed it over to us. We agreed on $7.00 for the trip and he got to keep the car. Later we found out the going rate was $5.00 so the driver single-handedly managed to thrust our love of taxi drivers into the bowels of snake pit again. It’s not that $2 is much money; it’s merely the fact that taxi drivers’ worldwide enjoy ripping people off – it’s their job. Oh well, we consoled ourselves, the guy took us right to the hotel and we didn’t have to keep the car. Twenty four hours of parking would cost more than the car was worth. Ha! Four hours of parking would cost more…

The best part of the entire day was the Continental Hotel. Richard wanted to stay there because of the high ratings on TripAdvisor website, and they weren’t wrong. Expensive but well located with a bathroom as big as some small countries, delicious buffet breakfast, friendly front desk staff and a fast internet connection in the room. We were so happy about feeling good again we immediately went out and bought a bottle of wine for a later celebration. Just to be able to hear and walk and kick up our heels again meant a lot. Later we strolled along Guayaquil’s malecon – designed and built in 2000. The 1.5 mile boardwalk has single-handedly transformed Guayaquil’s seedy, unsavoury riverfront from a dirty and dangerous port area into an upscale promenade with beautiful sights, shopping, classy restaurants, botanical gardens, museums, theatres and so on. We were pleased to be there and stretch our legs and our cramped minds at the same time. But the front desk staff at the hotel warned us to be off the streets in the area of the hotel by 10pm. – still dangerous after-hours apparently. We did what we were told but really, other than a few drug pushers, prostitutes, purse snatchers, muggers, corrupt police and armed bandits, what was there to be afraid of?

Next day we were out and about, walking, shopping, snacking and discovering. Didn’t take too long, even though the city is huge the tourist sights are compact in the malecon and downtown areas near the hotel. There are dozens of banks so getting enough cash to survive while keeping your feet on the ground was not a problem. We found a grocery store and bought enough food to eat dinner in the hotel room. So good, so good to not eat in a restaurant. We were extremely proud of ourselves because the Continental Hotel boasts the best gastronomy in Guayaquil. We’ll tell you why if you want to hear about it. Imagine paying more for a meal in Ecuador than in Calgary. That’s why.
All in all, Guayaquil is a pretty uneventful city.

Salinas

Salinas is only two hours by bus from the massive Guayaquil long distance bus terminal. It’s an enjoyable 150 kilometre ride that passes through miles and miles of banana plantations and ends at Ecuador’s most developed sea-side resort. Yes Salinas has an average yearly temperature of 80 degrees and the best time to visit is exactly when we were there. Every weekend the beaches are crowded, crowded and busy. It was fun to walk the promenade and see the sights, but Salinas has no power whatsoever to entice us back – not like Benidorm or Puerto Vallarta. We shared a beer at a sidewalk café across from the beach. We were hotter than fleas, sweaty and tired and a cold beer sounded perfect. The teenage waiter in his low lying blue jeans and dirty tee shirt arrived with the beer bottle already opened – a real no, no (they are supposed to open it in front of you so you know it has not been tampered with). Half an hour later we were ready to move on again but Donna wanted to visit the WC first. Well, that was a record breaker for sure. The most evil washroom of the trip. Filthy, I mean give you the willies filthy, broken toilet, no paper, no soap, no hand towels. I stopped by the kitchen to tell them the toilet didn’t flush and ha! that was the least of his worries. I saw the kitchen. The Kitchen! A dark and dingy work area, out of sight from the street, manned by a teenager who knew nothing whatsoever about sanitation. But he did know how to flush the toilet and that was not the first time he had been asked to do so. He left his food preparation and picked up a filthy pail which he then filled with tap water. Together we visited the toilet and I watched him pour the water until the toilet reached the flush level. Easy as pie. Then he went back to the kitchen to continue preparing, no I didn’t see him wash his hands. But even if he tried to be hygienic there was no soap or towels. I was so full of the creeps I couldn’t wait to get back outside in the sun again. Thank goodness we didn’t eat in that restaurant; we might have been back in bed again for a week. But you know what? Next day we walked by and there were lots of people eating lunch there. Yeeaahhhhhhhhhh.

In Salinas we stayed at the Hotel Caridi located about two miles from the beach. More like a hostal than a hotel, actually. Our room was barren, no bedside table(s) no closet, no writing table, one plastic green chair, bare walls and it was only $5 less per night that the beautiful Boutique Hotel Plaza Sucre in Quito. The owner of the Caridi is from Montreal and when we checked out she asked us to say a few nice things about her place on TripAdvisor. Well that put us on the spot, didn’t it?

Bananas

Did you ever wonder why you can go to the grocery store in Canada or the United States and buy a bunch of Ecuador bananas for less money than an equivalent weight of apples from British Columbia? We have.

What follows is one of many reports about Ecuador’s second largest industry. Sad but true.

Bananas - By Richy Richo

For many reasons, some complimentary, some not, Ecuador is referred to allegorically as a Banana Republic. The truth remains that Ecuador is the number one exporter of bananas worldwide and is said to produce some of the best tasting bananas.

Bananas were first cultivated on the fertile coastal region of Ecuador in the 1700's but the plantations were small. Bananas only became a major export item for Ecuador after World War II after the involvement of multinationals such as Dole.

The importance of bananas, to Ecuador and to the world, cannot be underestimated. Bananas are the fourth most important staple crop in world food production. Bananas are a primary source of income to the Ecuadorian economy second only to the revenue produced by oil.

Unfortunately, banana workers, especially in the larger plantations, "suffer from long hours, low pay, forced overtime, massive exposure to dangerous pesticides, and lack of job security. In many countries such as Colombia, Costa Rica, and Panama, workers have struggled to form unions and raise wages to as much as $11 a day. But in Ecuador temporary subcontracted labourers are not allowed to form unions and are earning an average of less than $6 a day." (Cited from Human Rights Watch publications, April 2002)

In addition, human rights groups have recently denounced many of the larger banana plantations in Ecuador for employing children sometimes even as young as 10 years old. For the land owner, this practice cuts down operating expenses, for the families of the children, sadly, it helps put food on the table.

The less attractive reality of banana production--the low wages of the workers and the presence of child labour--however, remains a reality that needs to be addressed. From talking to the small plantation owners, this problem is partly attributed to the price that they (being the producers) receive from the exporters. This sale price rarely covers production costs. For example, producers are paid $3.00 per box, whereas, at their point of destination, the same box of bananas is sold for as much as $40.00. In other words, the profit margin for the middleman is substantial while, for the producer, it is almost negligible. This discrepancy affects the labourers whose wages are unable to increase due to the narrow profit margin of their employers.

This unfairness in wage earning leads to the rich (i.e. the middlemen in Ecuador and the large multinationals) getting richer. Alternatively, it is those who work the labour-intensive positions who are forced to continue working for stagnating wages. Unfortunately, this state of affairs is not limited to banana production and is not endemic to Ecuador. Mass agriculture, in general, exploits its labourers. Under these conditions, bananas have come to represent a less than complimentary image of Ecuador as being a Banana Republic. By addressing wage and labour concerns, Ecuador's agricultural wealth can be more fairly distributed amongst its inhabitants. The resulting social equity would serve as a tribute to "pacha mama" (mother nature) who has allowed for the bountiful geographical position of Ecuador

Quito Quito rhymes with mos quito

We arrived Quito at 3:15pm January 21st but maybe you don’t know what that means. First we had to listen to irascible complaints from Thelma and Louis because they had been tossed into the baggage hold of the plane and then hundreds of fat relatives were stacked on top. They had not been seen the inside an airplane since the 26th of November but after this trip they looked really bad. Second, we had to take Taxi number two on the same day. Trauma in the Wallet! News Flash, Trauma in the Wallet! We didn’t know whether to shoot the wallet like a horse with a broken leg, or just give it a transfusion of cash positive ‘C+’. Third, the taxi driver was stressed and unhappy about driving us into old town where traffic is thick as thieves and the roads are thoroughly anorexic - but he reluctantly agreed and transported us for $8 when everyone else wanted $12. And then of course there was Donna, whining and nit-picking about breaking the No Taxi Rule two times in the same day and ‘how can we ever live that down and still consider ourselves frugal travellers?’

We had pre-booked a gorgeous but inexpensive boutique hotel for three nights on Expedia thinking that after Quito we would head north to Otovallo or south to Banos. The Hotel Plaza Sucre was absolutely beautiful, a converted hacienda with a large central lobby open to the second floor, a wide and inviting interior veranda with beautiful detailed railings, classy furniture, colourful walls and amazing artwork. (The best art we have seen in Ecuador to date.) Our room was well equipped with safe, satellite television, comfy bed, window that opened to the front street, hot shower and even included breakfast – a gorgeous little posada perfectly situated in the heart of old town, within easy walking distance of everywhere. In fact Donna states emphatically that the Boutique Hotel Plaza Sucre is one of the top hotel bargains of their entire travel career. But little did we know when we checked in that we would not be leaving after three nights, we would be hanging around for almost a week. We both suffered serious bouts of food poisoning after dinner in La Rhonda the first evening and we were down and out. Incapacitated. One day we bounced back a little and started stuffing Quito’s sights into the gaping hole in our travel addiction. Here’s what we saw - Hectic with a capital H! Think of thousands of people running into a hockey game all at once to get the best seats. Think of narrow, crowded sidewalks, incredible architecture, lush and busy open plazas, little tiny short indigenous people scurrying everywhere, towering church steeples, taxis beeping and blasting continuously, bus after bus swishing so close to the sidewalk and your body that you think your nose, or your arm, or your purse is gonna be ripped off, up hills, down hills and off in the distance more hills tightly stacked from top to bottom with houses and cars and people. Whew! A lot of Hectic. Quito was declared a UNESCO "World Heritage Site" in 1978, thanks to its historic center, which is the largest and best preserved in Latin America. A treasure trove of baroque art and architecture, including buildings, churches, monasteries and narrow streets that reflect Ecuador's unique blend of indigenous and Spanish cultures. The city’s central square in old town lies at 2,800 meters (9,200 feet) so Quito is the second highest capital city in the world, beat out by La Paz, Bolivia. But it is the largest highest capital city in the world closest to the equator because the city limits have spread to about one kilometre from zero latitude. Sights of old town rammed our headaches (caused by the high altitude) and blasted our tunnel vision with perpendicular perspectives, beautifully painted buildings, dark skinned indigenous people in colourful clothing, businessmen, poor people, well dressed young people, school kids in uniforms, nuns, tourists – they were all there. Every one of them would have loved to climb inside our camera, but did we let them? We did not. Photos were the last thing we cared about until we got better. Next day Richard was back in bed again with more problems.

One day we climbed out of bed and took a day trip to la Mitad del Mundo. We rode two very crowded local busses (total return cost for two 80 cents) and spent time examining the monument and the park dedicated to the Equator and the centre of the world. In fact, Ecuador means Equator in Spanish. We have a photo of Richard standing with one foot in the northern hemisphere and one foot in the south. If he’d had one more foot it might have been in the seat of my pants because I dragged him to so many places when he wasn’t feeling well but fortunately for my butt, both his sandals were grounded. After visiting both hemispheres at the same time Richard was completely worn out and went back to bed again. It took another two days, even with me feeding him yogurt and bananas, vitamin pills and Gatorade for the electrolytes, to be well enough to venture forth. He hung on to being sick as long as possible but on day five he was finally tired of the bed. We visited the handicraft market in the Mariscal Sucre district. We took the bus there and walked back. It was at the market that we spotted the little boy mentioned in the last blog. We found lots of things to buy at the market, fabulous deals on woven scarves and tablecloths and shawls, also tee shirts and creative silver jewellery, but alas Thelma was already packed tight with worn out clothes and Louis felt the same. So even though our hotel was nice, the next day Richard wanted out of Quito, not because it was a bad place but because it made him sick. So we took a taxi to the bus station, about 10 miles from old town and caught the first bus available for Guayaquil. We had spent so much time in Quito that it was too late to head north and too rushed for Banos. Guayaquil it would be.

The bus trip took about eight hours and was really quite uneventful except for going deaf. That’s right; all Ecuador busses are equipped with impressive speaker systems installed by hearing aid manufacturers. The speakers continually explode music and Spanish sound tracks into your head in machine gun fashion and there is only one way to turn them off or down - suicide. We are talking noise louder than anything you have ever heard before. When you need an ear drum transplant you know something was too loud. Once you’ve gone deaf after riding the bus for only eight hours, why would you worry about an upset stomach? Of course, Richard wasn’t sick any longer, he was deaf. We snacked on goodies we brought with us but we should also mention now that the very bus company with the loudest music in the world was also generous with lunch – a bag of chips about the size of a package of geranium seeds, and a bottle of pop about three inches high. Whew! We were so full but unfortunately in our eardrums, not our tummies. Many long distance busses in Ecuador have a conductor who takes the tickets and unlocks the washroom when you need it. Yes, the room is locked at all times in case you go in there and try to hide from the music. So you tap on the front window and indicate you need to use the facilities and the conductor will go back and unlock the bathroom door. But he waits outside because if you take too long he knows you are trying to install ear plugs and they are illegal on the bus. He then takes remedial action. Also, like in Mexico, the driver and conductor are separated from the passengers by a sound-proof wall with a locked door and in their compartment the sound is turned off. But the ride was good and at least we didn’t lose our eyesight….

Jayden Jayden Everywhere a Jayden

1. Rip my heart out and run over it with a lawn mower…

December 24, 2010. At 10:00am Christmas Eve morning in Buenos Aires we rolled through Park Las Heras on our way back to the apartment after an early morning power walk. It was a gorgeous sunny day and our hearts were filled to the brim with an elixir of happiness and love, the kind that bursts from your chest at Christmas. We were talking about our Vernon and Calgary kids as we hurried along, knowing that they would be almost ready for the Christmas rush with lots of company and turkey and presents stacked as high as dreams can fly. We talked about our toddler grandkids, Jayden and Kinsley, and knew that their Christmas excitement would be priceless, filled with Santa Claus and wrapping paper and presents as big as they are – such is the privilege of the land from whence we come. We were really missing our grandkids. We were moving fairly fast when we rounded the corner. And there they were. That family of four.

The first person I saw was a grimy little boy about Jayden’s age. He was sitting on the sidewalk leaning against the outside wall of the bank. It looked like he had been crying – or did I only imagine that? He had a juice box in one hand and an almost empty bag of chips in the other. Junk food for breakfast on Christmas Eve morning. He looked at us with eyes that said something I had never seen before – and it sent jolts of electricity into every valve and vessel in my heart. Nearby lay his mother and two sisters. Sprawled on the sidewalk in front of the bank. They were all asleep – sound asleep with arms entwined for company, or protection. Mother, daughter about twelve and daughter about eight. All those people - sound asleep. My God! My eyes surveyed the scene again in disbelief. Who was watching the little boy? Worry churned inside my stomach. Who on earth was watching over this little boy on Christmas Eve morning while he ate junk food? At that age for sure our grandson, Jayden, could not be trusted to sit still, or stay where he should or do what he should. And what if he wandered off or was lured away by someone, this grimy little boy who did not seem to have a home? Who of these sleeping people would even know? The churning in my stomach made me feel sick. My eyes started leaking. A hand covered my mouth and then quickly brushed the tears away. We walked past. Imagined or real, I could feel the ire of the little boy’s circumstances boring into every aspect of my plush life and ripping it to pieces. How dare we all have so much when he has so little on Christmas Eve morning in sunny Buenos Aires? How dare we?

By the time that train of thought thundered down the tracks inside my brain I couldn’t even talk and when Richard looked down to see why I hadn’t answered his question he realized in shock that the person he was with had transformed from an upright woman of adventure into an emotionally distressed grandmother who had just been kicked in the face by the boots of reality.

I mean, out of control. Crying like a baby.

“We’ve got to do something to help these people!” I wailed. “It’s Christmas Eve!” …said like, it’s Christmas EEEvvvvee! “What can we do to help them? What can we do?” Richard wanted to know. “I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe we can give them some money, but that little boy deserves more for Christmas than he has right now. He didn’t ask for these terrible circumstances!” So we devised a plan to give them a fair amount of money – I know, I know, there are better ways to handle these issues, we’ve been told that a million times and we’ve told others that a million times. But at that emotional exclamation point in our lives there was nothing else we could think of to do. That family needed a gift for Christmas, end of story.

We calculated our cash situation and dug into the wallet. Richard walked toward them. I stood partially hidden in a doorway and watched because, embarrassing as it was, I could not stop crying and I didn’t want the little boy to see me. Richard woke the mother and handed her the wad of cash. She must have been bewildered beyond words. Tears still rolled down my face and my one and only Kleenex was reduced to the size of a soaking wet marble. The caretaker came out of the building and stood in the doorway beside me. He quickly looked around to see what was going on: foreign woman bawling noisily in his doorway, tall, grey-haired man trying to wake the mother sleeping on the sidewalk, the grim and grimy little three year old suspiciously watching the stranger trying to wake his mother. Satisfied that everything was okay, the caretaker said in broken English. “It’s all right.’ I looked at him with astonishment on my face and he said again, ‘don’t worry, it’s all right.’ I thought he was an escapee from a mental ward. In fact I probably had the same look in my eyes that I had just seen in the little boy’s eyes only moments before! ‘What is all right?’ I wanted to scream at him. What on earth could be all right when a mother and her children are sleeping in the street on Christmas Eve morning and her little boy is sitting by himself eating junk food? What one thing about that is all right? I was so upset I wanted to smack him. But of course, he was just trying to be kind and calm me down. Maybe it was his way of saying that this is the way they live, so everything for them is all right. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Richard managed to hand over the wad of cash. I’m sure the mother never understood what the whole thing was about. We never saw them again even though we walked past that corner almost everyday for the next month. What happened to them we do not know, we just hope they shared a special little something for Christmas.

2. Rip my heart out again…

January 25, 2011. Quito, Ecuador. Stranded in Quito for days because of food poisoning but on this day we finally had enough energy to take on an impossibly crowded city bus. And the handicraft market. It was a good-looking, sunny day and we were happy to be mobile. While we were at the market a tiny indigenous lady in traditional clothing with a tiny, tiny black haired baby strapped to her back, asked us to buy some gum. These gum sellers are everywhere. We said, ‘no gracias’. The imploring look on her face and in her eyes read as an entire volume about motherhood, vulnerability and indigenous poverty but we are hardened to that - we said no again. After she left I said to Richard that I changed my mind. I wanted the gum after all. Guilty conscience? I don’t know. I ran after her and bought the gum. Of course she ripped me off and never thought twice about it, that’s what they do. Even though they are vulnerable, they are sales people and it’s their job. Everyone knows that. On the way back to find Richard I spotted Jayden.

His mother worked in a stall at the market, the last booth at the end of a long row. The little boy, same age as Jayden, was sitting by himself at the side of the stall, completely out of sight from his mother or any caregiver. He sat cross legged on the sidewalk and leaned against the canvas wall of the stall. He was comfortable in that place and had probably spent time there everyday for most of his life. Dozens of people walking by had to move out and around him. He was happily eating by himself and had placed his breakfast playfully on the sidewalk. On the filthy sidewalk. A half eaten croissant. While I watched he picked it up, pulled a bite and then tossed it back down on the cement.

I arrived back where Richard was waiting with tears in my eyes again. But I didn’t want another breakdown so merely mentioned that the little boy over there was using the sidewalk as his breakfast table. I quickly wiped away the signs so Richard wouldn’t notice. We looked back at the space on the sidewalk. It was empty. The little boy had disappeared and taken the croissant with him.

As people who love to travel and have been doing so for years, we have witnessed disturbing events in many countries, wealthy and poor. We lived in Mexico for 2 ½ years for goodness sake! Even though countless of our experiences have been sad or painful or upsetting, I have usually been able to handle them in an adult way. But on this trip it seems that children who remind me of my grandson, Jayden, little boys who are vulnerable and underprivileged, set off an emotional alarm in my head that I have trouble turning off. We cannot fix all the broken bits in the world; we know that. I know that. But…