I'm a little behind with my travel report and better finish what I had started a couple of days ago in a place much quieter than Otavalo, where we are now.
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Friday, December 7th, 2012
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| Chimborazo at sunset |
It is seven o'clock in the morning. A sun-filled haze hides the higher mountains in the distance from view: it could be morning fog, or the smoke rising from the small indigenous farm houses around us. At this altitude a fire in the fireplace is almost a necessity.
We are at the Posada La Estación,
right across from Urbina, at 3,618m the highest railway station in
Ecuador and the tenth-highest in the world, at the foot of mighty
Chimborazo, its snow and ice covered peak a favourite destination for
mountain climbers. 6,300 m high, it is the highest mountain in
Ecuador.
In
the pasture behind the house the old lama “Inti” (which means
“sun” in Kichua language) and his younger, very vigorous Alpaca
companion with his beautiful thick white coat are grazing peacefully
alongside their females and offspring, a donkey brays nearby, and the
green hills across from the house are dotted with grazing cows, and
small, simple houses, their corrugated iron roofs glittering now in
the slowly emerging sun. Only the traffic noise from the old
Panamerican Highway right in front of the house and the dirt road on
the other side, part of the Inca Trail, disrupts this pastoral scene:
people on their way to work on one of the bigger farms or in one of
the small communitites.
We
have landed at this beautiful place quite by chance. We left Cuenca
two days ago to visit Ingapirca, Ecuador's best known Inca site, and
had two days left before we had to be back in the Quito area. For the
first night we had chosen Alausí,
starting point for the train ride down the famous 'Devil's Nose'. We
had briefly entertained the idea to take this train, but after our
bus ride to Guayaquil,we felt we had experienced the same thrill
without paying $35 and do another totally touristy thing. But Alausí
still intrigued us: its location on the precipice is pretty dramatic,
and we also thought we might hike a bit in the area to find out how
we'd do at over 3000 m. (As we have found out by now, the Lonely Planet erred by about 1000 m: Alausi is not at 3,323m, but 2,300). It is a small town where not much is going on
except railroad related business, with a very high percentage of
indigenous population, which makes it a colourful place to visit.
The
bus dropped us off at a gas station on the highway around 4:30 the
day before yesterday, and we shouldered our packs and walked the 1.5
km downhill into town. Again we passed children in school uniforms, a
farmer leading two bulls on a rope, a younger calf walking ahead,
dragging its tethering rope behind it, nodded to women sitting in
front of their small stores. At the bottom of the hill we reached
Alausí's
main road, the '5 de Junio'. As in many other towns the two lanes
were divided by a well-kept center strip with grass, trees, flowers
and benches, and the sidewalks were bustling with people in mostly
indigenous dress. The 'Hotel Europa', one of the lodgings listed in
the Lonely Planet, was the first hotel we passed, and when we walked
down the '5 de Junio' we found several more. A few hundred meters
further down, where the road curved to the right, we could see the
freshly renovated railway station.
None
of the few hotels looked any better than the Hotel Europa, so we
checked in, dropped off our luggage, and went for a walk along the
boulevard to familiarize ourselves with our surroundings. We walked
to the railway station where we found one old-fashioned blue railcar
– looking more like a bus than a train – and a short modern red
train, the latter obviously the one in use now.
A few steps further a sign caught my eye 'Books & Coffee' – what
was this un-Ecuadorian looking name all about? The doors were
invitingly open, and we stepped into a tiny space where the walls
were lined with tightly packed book shelves. How could I resist this
invitation, even without the added allure of a cup of coffee? A
young woman stood behind the small counter in the corner, and a
bearded man in his sixties sat at one of the three tables. He
addressed us in almost accent-free English, and it turned out that he
was not another customer but the owner of this little gem. There were
no other guests, and we soon were engaged in conversation. It turned
out that Carlos had opened the small restaurant and book exchange
only months before, but had another restaurant with that name in
Quito. Here, his customers were mainly tourists who take the train
ride down 'Nariz del Diablo', which happens twice in the morning and
sometimes in the afternoon as well, so at this time of day not many
people walk by anymore. Carlos obviously was happy to have company,
and for us it was a lucky coincidence to find someone who spoke
English so well and knew so much about the country and the people. I
skimmed the well-sorted book shelves: English and Spanish titles took
up the biggest part, but there were German, Dutch and a few French
books as well, plus a couple of shelves with hard-cover classics,
some of them obviously quite old. This latter section, Carlos said,
was not for exchange or sale; these were his own books, and customers
could enjoy them while they were there, but the others were meant for
a book exchange or could be bought at a small fee.
After
a pleasant half hour or so we said goodnight to our friendly host and
slowly wandered back to our hotel.
Since
breakfast was not included at the 'Hotel Europa' the next morning
found us wandering along '5 de Junio' in search of something to eat.
Nothing really caught our fancy on the way down the street, but
Carlos's door was open already, and he suggested a place – 'or you
could have a sandwich, coffee and 'jugo' (one of the delicious
freshly-made fruit juices served everywhere in Ecuador and Colombia)
here'. His employee would be there in five minutes.
Well,
this was, of course, the easiest alternative, and soon we were
engaged in conversation again. Carlos told us that he guided treks
along the Inca Trail, part of the original Incan High Road that
connected Cusco and Quito. The guided tour starts about twenty
kilometers southeast of Alausi and leads by several small Inca sites,
ending in Ingapirca. This, it seemed, was his true passion, since he
loved the mountains. With a little more time, or if we had planned a
bit differently, we could possibly have done this, too: it sounded
like a wonderful experience, though I was a bit doubtful that I could
have handled hiking at that altitude: the trail goes up to 4,100 m.
We
had one more night to spend before we were expected back at the farm
by Ale, and since we felt we had exhausted the possibilities Riobamba
had to offer we had pretty much, though a bit reluctantly, decided to
spend it in Baños, a
pretty town about two hours away, much frequented by tourists. Johann
asked Carlos if he could suggest a place between Alausí
and Quito. 'Hmmm ... my brother, who is also a guide, has a place up
in the mountains, a kind of B & B, right outside the entrance to
Chimborazo National Park', he said. 'I have to go there anyway to
pick something up; if you want, you can come along'. We didn't have
to think about that for very long: it sounded a lot more alluring
than spending the night in a tourist town.
An
hour later we were back at “Books & Coffee” with our packs,
ready for what promised to be an interesting day. We piled into
Carlos's jeep and were on our way north to Riobamba: there we would
pick up Rodrigo, Carlos's brother, who operates the 'Posada la
Estación'.
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Further reports will have to wait until we are in Colombia: while Pasto, our destination for tonight, is only about three hours away from here by bus, we have the border to cross, and it is never quite predictable how fast it goes. We want to make sure to arrive in Pasto in the daylight.
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