When Teresita Rosita's coffee high wore off she didn't know who she was, where she was or how much time had passed. She spent the next little while piecing her experiences together into a coherent sequence of events and this is what she came up with...
It was almost 6 weeks ago, maybe more, maybe less (Teresita Rosita has lost her ability to judge or keep track of time) when we left our adventurer in the coffee region of Colombia. And yes, she did drink a lot of coffee, but there comes a time when one must stop with the drinking and continue with the traveling. So that's what she did. She set off by herself again and kept on with the southern trajectory. Her first stop was Popayan. Popayan was a very white place. Not white like people white (she was in Colombia, and like Mexico most of the locals were not of the lightest skin tone) but lots of white buildings - white churches, white hotels, white houses, white government buildings, if Teresita Rosita had been wearing white she would have been perfectly disguised...
In Popayan, Teresita Rosita did the thing tourists do. She wandered around the white streets, took photos of the white buildings, got cured by a wacky Mexican man who spat on her hand, burnt some ash on her, gave her some religious cards and then asked for $10000 for payment. It was a blast.
From Popayan Teresita Rosita then took a 6 hour pothole ride to the ancient Mayan/Incan/Aztec site of San Agustin. Know how there are those infomercials for the fat jiggling machines, endorsed by d-grade actors around the world? Well you don't need one if you ever decide to take the bus to San Agustin. Where there should be road there was mud, gravel, the occasional log, and the even more occasional small lake. With her knees around her chin, a large Colombian lady wedging her into her sit, Teresita Rosita jumped and bumped herself to the crossroads that lead to San Agustin, hopped on the back of a motorbike and boom, was in town and horse riding herself around some ruins.
Ruins probably isn't the right term for San Agustin. Its better described as lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of statues. Teresita Rosita saw statues carved into mountains, painted statues, freestanding statues, monkey statues, scary statues, silly statues, big statues, small statues - yeah lots of statues.
And then she jumped and bumped her way back to Popayan, and then down down down to the 'dangerous-est' border in South America - Colombia and Ecuador. Here she got her passport checked by some 'scary' Colombian officials, strolled across the border and then got her passport stamped by some more 'scary' Ecuadorian officials. Hmmmm it was pretty scary...
Wooooo! New country!
Colombia had treated her well, she had been to the beach, fed the mosquitoes, trekked the jungle, danced the night away in the cities, drank too much coffee everywhere and gorged herself on enough banana chips to keep a small nation alive for the next decade. What would Ecuador have in store for her?
Well....
Lots actually.
She hung out in Cuenca and drank more coffee and ate bread and cheese and chocolate with Steph and her parents. She went to one of the largest craft markets in south America and had the sensation of drowning in the flood of rainbow ponchos, shawls, blankets, scarfs, Beanies, gloves, socks, table clothes, wall hangings, Jewellery, shoes, you name it, it was there and rainbow coloured She ate roast pig from the market - whole roast pig complete with head. It was tasty. She didn't eat guinea pig, not yet anyway. She went to thermal springs, climbed mountains and rode bicycles.It was almost 6 weeks ago, maybe more, maybe less (Teresita Rosita has lost her ability to judge or keep track of time) when we left our adventurer in the coffee region of Colombia. And yes, she did drink a lot of coffee, but there comes a time when one must stop with the drinking and continue with the traveling. So that's what she did. She set off by herself again and kept on with the southern trajectory. Her first stop was Popayan. Popayan was a very white place. Not white like people white (she was in Colombia, and like Mexico most of the locals were not of the lightest skin tone) but lots of white buildings - white churches, white hotels, white houses, white government buildings, if Teresita Rosita had been wearing white she would have been perfectly disguised...
In Popayan, Teresita Rosita did the thing tourists do. She wandered around the white streets, took photos of the white buildings, got cured by a wacky Mexican man who spat on her hand, burnt some ash on her, gave her some religious cards and then asked for $10000 for payment. It was a blast.
From Popayan Teresita Rosita then took a 6 hour pothole ride to the ancient Mayan/Incan/Aztec site of San Agustin. Know how there are those infomercials for the fat jiggling machines, endorsed by d-grade actors around the world? Well you don't need one if you ever decide to take the bus to San Agustin. Where there should be road there was mud, gravel, the occasional log, and the even more occasional small lake. With her knees around her chin, a large Colombian lady wedging her into her sit, Teresita Rosita jumped and bumped herself to the crossroads that lead to San Agustin, hopped on the back of a motorbike and boom, was in town and horse riding herself around some ruins.
Ruins probably isn't the right term for San Agustin. Its better described as lots and lots and lots and lots and lots and lots of statues. Teresita Rosita saw statues carved into mountains, painted statues, freestanding statues, monkey statues, scary statues, silly statues, big statues, small statues - yeah lots of statues.
And then she jumped and bumped her way back to Popayan, and then down down down to the 'dangerous-est' border in South America - Colombia and Ecuador. Here she got her passport checked by some 'scary' Colombian officials, strolled across the border and then got her passport stamped by some more 'scary' Ecuadorian officials. Hmmmm it was pretty scary...
Wooooo! New country!
Colombia had treated her well, she had been to the beach, fed the mosquitoes, trekked the jungle, danced the night away in the cities, drank too much coffee everywhere and gorged herself on enough banana chips to keep a small nation alive for the next decade. What would Ecuador have in store for her?
She did so many things, so many things that need to be described in more detail, so we will leave Teresita Rosita where she is right now, on a terrace in Quito in the sun, where she is 'working' hard as a volunteer at a hostel, having a 'break' and taking it easy while she explores the beautiful city and avoids getting mugged on a daily basis... it's tres relaxing....
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