How to disappear completely

This week has been a busy week.

On Monday we went up to Secret Garden, Cotopaxi - the home-cum-hostel of Tarquin and Catherine, who set up Secret Garden, Quito five or so years ago and have now moved out to the mountains. We got there late morning, lazed around all day, marvelled at the price, the view and, later, the food - then we got beaten at Scrabble by an American bird enthusiast called Justin. He got Martinis as his first word. We never caught up. This was a blow; Andy and I have spent over ten grand learning how to be good at Scrabble.

The next day we toddled off early to climb up to a glacier on Volcan Cotopaxi. It´s possible for beginners to make it to the summit - something like 19,000 feet, I think - but the cost was out of our range (100 quid). Just as well. Hannes, a volunteer in Quito who went on the trip with us, stayed at the refuge for an attempt. His guide fell through the thick snow and they had to turn back. No refunds. Ouch.

The walk up was exhausting, but fantastic. The altitude defeated two of our fellow day-trippers, Katrin and Phil, who gave up at the refuge at 4800m. To be honest, I couldn´t really identify the glacier as a glacier due to the vast amount of snow that was falling. This did not, however, detract from the sheer joy of gazing across a vast, craggy, deadly expanse of pure white. On the way down I ran and got a severe headache. Nonetheless, I definitely won. There´s no doubt.



Wednesday was the best day. We trekked upriver, waded through pools, jumped from jagged stone to jagged stone, got caught in a hailstorm, managed to make our way back; then I got sick, threw up, felt better. It was great. I will never again be so convinced I am Indiana Jones. As for the illness, I don´t know what happened. One minute I was fine, the next a twinge, then a gradual gut-crushing for two hours. Then release. Weakness. Recovery. A proper 24-hour affliction.

But the river! Oh, the river! Twirling, soaring plants of every shade of green intermingling with each other and cutting out the darkening sky; clear trickly water bursting into surprised rapids behind huddles of soaked, lumpen stones; cookies and tea on a sudden clearing; mudslides and moss and indescribable smells and secret shuffles from behind the thick foliage. And then the hail. Hard and painful. And Andy had no jacket.

I suppose it was quite dangerous. One slip and a twisted ankle would have left us all in trouble. But I had my superb waterproof coat on and was quietly euphoric behind my serious instructions to less scrabble-happy comrades.

Thursday: I was supine, recovering from my strange ailment; Andy went bike-riding, cut his leg up a little, tired himself out. He had a jolly good time.

Friday we quite fancied horse-riding, but didn´t go for it. Legs still too weak. We´ll horse-ride later. We played Scrabble. Got Fecund. On a triple word score. We both felt much happier with our reading degrees after this.

On Saturday we came back to Secret Garden, Quito, from where I write this. And today we went to the centre of the world - and the museum that lies upon it. There´s a horrifically touristy complex of shops and restaurants and all kinds of rubishy things around a monument where the French got the equator wrong by 200m or so. The much more well-hidden museum on the actual ecuator was far better. THE WATER WENT STRAIGHT DOWN INSTEAD OF SPINNING CLOCKWISE OR ANTI-CLOCKWISE! YOU COULDN´T WALK STRAIGHT DUE TO CENTRIFUGAL FORCES! THE GUIDE BALANCED AN EGG ON THE HEAD OF A NAIL! Needless to say, it was pretty great.

But this is the last you´ll hear from me for a while, dear Ecuadorian internets. We´re off to the Intag cloudforest to track bears for four weeks. I probably won´t have a chance to get online until April.

I have to go; I´m missing dinner. There are many more photos on Facebook. Including this one.

















That´s Quito, that is.