A break between trips is a good time to write about an old trip. This story is about a 3-week vacation in Ecuador and Peru in 2004.
The main reason for the trip was for my husband Sergey to climb an active volcano Cotopaxi. In Colorado where we live there are 53 fourteeners, mountains with an elevation of at least 14,000 feet (4270 meters). Sergey climbed almost all of them, then wanted to do something more challenging before he became too old and he chose for that the 19-er Cotopaxi (5,897 m or 19,347 ft) in Ecuador. I was taken along to keep him company.
We were supposed to be in Ecuador in the morning but our overnight flight from Miami to Quito, the capital of Ecuador, got cancelled due to a mechanical problem with the aircraft. Already tired after the flight Denver – Miami, we joined the crowd of passengers that surrounded an airline agent. He made an announcement in lightening-speed Spanish and did not repeat it in English. That probably was not needed as the crowd looked all Spanish speaking. Our ears caught the word “mañana” said several times. We understood that we were not leaving until the next day.
We followed the other passengers to a waiting bus that took us to a hotel. It was the era when the airlines provided meals and accommodation if a flight cancellation was their fault.
It was also the era when smartphones did not exist. My husband was worried about our room reservation in Quito. We were going to be late a lot. He went to find a computer to send an email to the hotel while I got two meal vouchers and struggled to exchange them for meals. The small café did not expect a whole plane of passengers who wanted to eat at the same time.
I can be quite persistent, especially when hungry. When my husband returned, I had two plates loaded with food. Exhausted, he explained that he had to pay a hefty minimum fee for one hour of Internet time, the connection was slow and he was not sure that his email went through. We brought our plates upstairs to the room to eat in peace and quiet.
By the time we finished our meal, it was well past midnight. At 6 a.m. we were expected to be at the hotel lobby and to go back to the airport. We rested a little but could not sleep.
In the morning, we boarded another plane to Quito that also had a mechanical problem. The passengers waited on the tarmac while the aircraft was repaired. Finally, we flew out of Miami and arrived in Quito in the afternoon.
All other passengers were gone quickly. Just two of us, foreigners remained. A car with an open top stopped and the driver said “Taxi?”
“Do you know where Casa Helbling is?”
“Sí, sí,” the driver nodded his head up and down and pointed to the back seats.
“No,” my husband stopped me from getting in. He read guidebooks that warned about a high crime rate in Quito. “How do we know where he is going to take us? We cannot trust him. Let’s go back inside and think how to get to the hotel.”
A prospect of another delay did not sound appealing. Buying more time to make up my mind, I asked the driver how much the ride would cost.
“No money, free”, he said.
The car was old and battered. Perhaps, it was not a taxi at all. A free ride made no sense. Yet, it felt safe. The driver did not understand our heated conversation in Russian and looked confused. I loaded my backpack into the car and got in. The driver helpfully arranged small frayed cushions around me trying to make me comfortable. Sergey hesitated what to do.
“If you are not going then I’ll go by myself,” threatened I. That worked and he got into the car too. We asked why it was free. The driver said that the hotel owner would pay him for bringing customers. We had a reservation and therefore were not new extra revenue but we were unable to explain that to the driver.
After the long and rather nervous ride, we arrived at the hotel. Sergey checked if it was the right place and yes, it was. Relaxed at last, he pressed the driver to take some cash despite his protests. We rang the doorbell and a night receptionist let us in.
Casa Helbling was a small hotel. Perhaps, it should even be classified as a hostel because only our room had a bathroom.
The receptionist filled two glasses with tap water and offered them to us.
“You must be thirsty after your flight,” he said.
Sergey declined. The guidebooks also warned against drinking tap water in Ecuador. I did not have heart to do the same and I drank it. We asked about the email sent on the previous day from Miami. No, the receptionist did not see it but nothing to worry about, the room was ours.
Our room was decorated in the traditional style. Everything looked clean and tidy. The guidebooks talked a lot about bedbugs and other insects. We did not notice any traces of them. Happy that we finally made it to Quito, we decided to leave all worries until the following day.
Please, more photos!
Noted! I will include more photos in my next posts.