Archive for March, 2010

I remember reading once that in order to maintain reader interest, a blog should be updated at least 3 times a week. Well, you may have noticed that I’m not quite there! Since moving the blog from Vox to jontyjago.com I’ve wanted to write much more, but the simple truth is that when travelling without a laptop, it’s hard to do.

Writing long entries using the iPod is a pain in the culo, using internet cafes is easier but I always feel rushed. Plus, no laptop equals no pictures which makes for less interesting posts, so all-in-all an unsatisfactory situation!

The good news is that next week I should be reunited with the laptop, so I can knuckle down and do some bloggy justice to the last 2 months of travelling. I’m looking forward to it, and I hope you stick with me long enough to read what I have to say!

Was watching the local news yesterday and was a little bit freaked out to see a brief item about a bus crash having killed 4 people here in Ecuador. Nothing particularly unusual about that, but what caught our attention was that the bus had come from the Peruvian border was travelling to Cuenca and belonged to the bus company CIFA. In other words the exact same bus we’d been on 5 days earlier.

I’ve already written about lively bus drivers and the ones in Peru and Ecuador are very much in the same mould as those in Colombia. In fact I didn´t particularly enjoy the ride from Mancora to Cuenca as the driver was notable in having 2 basic driving tactics. Either the accelerator was glued to the floor, or the brakes were being slammed on. He drove that bus HARD.

Now, I know that this post is going to produce a worried email from my mother, in fact most of what I do over here produces a worried email from my mother (my favourite so far is, make sure you don’t cuddle any monkeys when you’re in the jungle, not with your skin!). But, honestly what can you do about a lunatic bus driver (or your mother for that matter)?

I’ve seen a blog post written by a backpacker dealing with this issue as the bus he was on actually did crash and he has some advice in the light of this incident. I understand that the incident was highly traumatic and seriously unpleasant, however I do seriously question (and had a little chuckle trying to picture it!) the following advice

You could TELL the driver to SLOW DOWN (‘Despacio!’) if you feel they are driving too fast or if you feel uncomfortable with their driving in any way. If they do not slow down I would personally get off the bus at the next suitable stop (i.e. where I knew I would be safe and have somewhere to stay)

I can’t really see that one working, particularly if you shout it in English. And as for getting off at the next available opportunity, again worthy in its sentiments, just won’t work in the real world – how do you know where’s safe and has suitable places to stay? He does make a good point about choosing a decent (ie expensive) bus company and where possible I do make a point of that. I wasn’t actually surpised to discover halfway through the journey to Cuenca that CIFA is actually part of CIAL, but at that stage it was too late to do anything about it.

Realistically this is pretty rare stuff – I’ve travelled over 25,000 miles by bus in the last 16 months and have felt at risk maybe twice. Maybe it’s stupid fatalism but I really don’t see what you can do about it. Planes crash, cars crash, buses crash, trains crash, boats sink, but a traveller’s gotta travel, right?

There are times when it simply just doesn’t work out. We got to Ecuador last Thursday and found a nice relaxing hostel in the historic centre. Friday we just mooched around, Saturday we took a trip up to the Cajas National Park which was beautiful – it contains hundreds of lakes and lagoons, all over 3,200m.

After that however, it started to go a bit wrong, or at least not to plan. I woke up on Sunday feeling like death warmed up, so that was Sunday and Monday out of the way. Tuesday, feeling much better we checked out ready to head to Banos, between Cuenca and Quito. While waiting to pay, I checked my email to find a very alarmed note from a nervous mother pointing out the fact that Banos is situated just 3 miles from a highly active volcano and that the British Foreign Office has been advising against visiting it for the last 3 months.

Now, normally I’m very much a member of the think-positive-and-nothing-bad-will-happen school of travel, but the reports of explosions, molten lava and pyroclastic flows was all alittle bit too much, even for me.

So we sat on a bus for 11 hours and came to Quito. Where Laura has been ill for the last 2 days. So, hopefully, after more than a week, we can actually do something..

So, after a few puzzled frowns and huffing and puffing, Laura got stamped into Ecuador for the next 90 days which was a relief as the Peru-Ecuador border was not the nicest place I’ve ever been and I really didn’t fancy getting stuck there. In fact, in general terms, there’s something distinctly unsettling about border towns over here. They mostly seem to follow the same pattern of stalls selling every type of shoddy crap imaginable, dodgy looking men sitting around, dodgy looking men offering to change money and dogs. South America has a lof of dogs just wandering around looking mangy, but border towns really excel in this.

But we made it through unmolested and are now in Cuenca which seems to be a nice place, the centre being a Unesco World Heritage site and a living city centre at the same time, I like that.

One thing that is confusing the hell out of me (and I’m spending far too much time thinking about it) is that the official currency of Ecuador is the US Dollar. They don’t have their own currency, cash here is green and has pictures of dead presidents on it. How does that work eh? My mission is to figure that out for you and I’ll report back.

A wonderful bird is the pelican,
His bill can hold more than his belican,
He can take in his beak,
Food enough for a week,
But I’m damned if I see how the helican.

Dixon Lanier Merritt

After the big city bustle of Lima we jumped onto a nice big comfortable bus and scooted 18 hours up the Peruvian coast to Mancora, which despite being Peru’s premier beach resort is infact little more than a main road lined with restaurants and bus offices, a few sunburned dazed looking gringos and a beach with big waves that totally disappears at high tide.

It does however, have pelicans and some very nice beachfront hotels, one of which we’re staying in. So I’ve spent the last few days watching the pelicans gliding gracefully past the hotel just inches from the waves in squadrons of 5 or 6 in perfect synchronisation. Beautiful.

And then yesterday we discovered the hotel’s little gang of resident iguanas. The gang is little, the iguanas are not, the biggest one is easily 3 feet long. They sprawl themselves next to the pool and occasionally venture down to have a drink from a puddle. Similar to what we’re doing in a way.