Looking down at this view just barely catching my breath from the last peak of a 3 hour hike I say to Ryan, ¨And to think this breathtaking sight is here everyday just existing in all its wonder¨. Then I continue to think in my mind, ¨While people everywhere are busy working day in and day out, never taking a break to come visit places like this that have been created as pure beauties, streaming happiness and peace into those who make the time and effort to experience them¨.    

When we woke up this morning we had an idea what we were getting ourselves into but not completely. We were told by some friends previously we should definitely do the one day hike to Lake 69 near Huaraz. So when we arrived yesterday we started inquiring about the prospects of doing the hike ourselves without a tour guide. We were told by our hostel owner and confirmed by other guests that the trail to Lake 69 is clearly marked and the hike is doable on your own without guidance. It´s the unreliable, time consuming transportation there and back that makes paying for a tour worthwhile. After contemplating back and forth, since we now consider ourselves experienced travelers whom can maneuver well on Latin public transportation, we decided to play it smart and pay for the tour. We also know from experience with ¨rainy seasons¨ that around 2-3 pm the clouds roll in, the winds pick up and it can start dumping rain within minutes no matter how sunny and clear it is in the morning. We definitely didn´t want to be suck up in the freezing cold raining mountains waiting for a bus to come by after a 5 hour hike.

The trail continues around the lake, up and over a small hill then down into a stunning, jaw-dropping valley. As I stood atop looking down I thought to myself, ¨This is the Valley of the Horses¨for those of you who have read Jean M. Auel´s series Clan of the Cave Bear you understand.

We crossed a mossy slightly swampy meadow only to start another switchback climb 100% harder than the last. It took us 2 hours to hike form the first grass valley (the start of the hike) to the Valley of the Horses, although it was really filled with grazing cows. It took us another 50 minutes to climb the last rocky mountain peak. By this time my leg muscles were killing me from lack of oxygen more than my shortness of breath. I took baby steps, one foot in front of the other as Ryan patiently walked behind encouraging me every 10 minutes or so saying mind over matter. 

Thursday night, hours before we were about to leave Huanchaco for Huaraz located in Cordillera Blanca (White Mountains) in Central Peru, Ryan and I ran into Richard a friend from Iquitos. He came to Trujillo/Huanchaco for a shaman convention that had been taking place for the past 4 days. Tonight was the final closing ceremony. He said it was wildly interesting and he had met plenty of shamans and made friends. He also said only 2% of the attendees were tourist or travelers mostly because 1. The convention was not advertised publicly 2. The cost for tourist was $100 for 2 days and $150 for 4 days 3. It was exclusive almost by invite only. Richard invited us to the closing ceremony but unfortunately we had already bought our bus tickets and had to leave soon. Instead in the mean time we helped and watched how to prepare San Pedro from cactus to liquid form, getting it ready for them to drink and trip out later.

A majority of the shamans and healing rituals are practiced in Northern Peru though not exclusively. As far as we know (but don’t take our word for it) taking Ayahuasca and San Pedro are legal in Peru. These natural hallucinogenics are part of the traditional Peruvian mystical, spiritual, and medical culture along with the idolized shaman ceremonies.

--Debbrial Rodgers--

_ I wanted to be off down the river at sunrise again so I got up at 3:30 to bail out our canoe and load up before our captain woke up. Debb, Riley and the Amazonian captain came down just before first light and we were off. It was an absolutely beautiful 5 hour ride to Angotero. We all relaxed and were blown away by the colors of the rising sun and horizontal tubes of clouds left by last night´s storm.

After we arrived and loaded our stuff from the canoe to the waiting launcha I set off into town to find gas with the old man. Debb and Riley set up hammocks and ran to the store for snacks and water. I walked around for hours with the old captain looking for gas. Barrel after empty barrel I began to get worried that there wasn’t any gas to get the old man home. We ended up finding 2 of the 5 gallons I promised and had to run because the boat was leaving soon. I left him enough money for the next 3 gallons, asked if he would be alright on his own. He said, ¨Of course¨ and I said my many thanks and wished him well and ran back to the boat in the rain.

For the next two days our boat stopped constantly picking up plantain, pigs, chickens, lumber, sugar cane, gas barrels and an child's swing set. Along with passengers and their goods of salted meats, animal pelts, parrots, turtles, monkeys and bags of rotting animals to sell in Iquitos. We stopped in Santa Clotilda-on the third day for a few hours. The three of us ran off the boat, happy for a break, in search of better food. Up until this point we had only had one decent meal a day. For breakfast and dinner we ate what I can only describe as soup that would have been served in a concentration camp. Breakfast was a very weak rice water soup with 2 pieces of bread and dinner we had a chicken base with a few noodles and boiled green plantain. Debb bought some salted mystery meat with tiny hooves and a few cans of tuna to brighten up the rice soup.

Back on the river, we repeated the same ritual at every stop. Everyone on the boat would climb out of their hammocks and head out onto the decks. We would all stand around and watch more plantain and animals being loaded onto the main deck. At each stop the entire village would stand on the river banks and stare at us and talk amongst themselves until we left. At one point Riley made an inventory of what we had on the 4th morning on the river:

            18 cows                      2 monkeys                   1 baby parrot                      48 passengers
            32 pigs                       3 turtles                      1 broken swing set            50 cases of empty beer bottles
            100+ chickens         20 pig pelts                 2000+ bunches of bananas and plantain
            16 gas barrels          1 leopard pelt             18 wooden post 30ft+        4 bags of rotten mystery meat

_Later that morning Riley got off in Masan to save time. In Masan you can cut across the peninsula in an hour and catch another boat to Iquitos that only takes another 45 minutes. Where the launcha takes 14 hours from Masan to Iquitos. Debb and I stayed aboard since we paid to get to Iquitos already and were not in a hurry or all that miserable. That changed a little for Debb after 90% of the other passengers got off with their goods leaving in the settling dust, a floor full of maggots and odd smelling puddles. I came in finding Debb frantically sweeping maggots out the door and down drain holes. She exclaims her disgust for about five minutes. Asking me, how can people live with maggots. I start laughing and can´t stop even when she tells me that there is nothing funny about this. That’s when I told her I knew about the maggots 2 days before and pointed out that she too was living with them. She called me names for not telling her and made me explain myself for not telling her. It was for her own good, there were too many people and rotting things to have done anything about it until they left. She would have been miserable knowing about them and unable to clean them up.

We ended the day with an amazing sunset as we made the turn off the Napo River and onto the massive Amazon River for the last leg to Iquitos. Complete with one more sighting of the famous pink river dolphins. After dark the wind picked up ad I could smell the rain coming. I began to drop and tie down the canvas flaps over the windows. The locals were all staring at me with curious eyes while I finished and began to move my bags to the center of the boat away from the windows. Just as I moved the last pack to the center the rain came in heavy sheets with no warning. I jumped in my hammock and watched with a smirk as everyone else scrambled to move their stuff away from the incoming rain and growing puddles on the floor. It turned out to be a hell of a storm and at one point in the night the boat had to stop because the rain.

We woke in the morning top our launch rocking in the wakes of hundreds of boats moving around the shores of Iquitos. An hour later we found a gap to squeeze our loaded boat into shore in-front of a hoard of buyers and transports. Debb and I squeezed through the crowd of men bargaining for prices and women selling ice cream to the shore and up the hill to the three wheeled motor taxi. We both almost wiped out twice in the foot of mud and garbage before we made it to the top. With one more look ad a photo of out ride to Iquitos, we hopped in our cab and headed into Iquitos.

--Ryan Rodgers--

The Lonely Planet has fairly good information regarding Cocá and the passenger boat the Nuevo Rocafuerte (the border town for Ecuador) being that it is the jumping off point for this trip. We stayed at Hotel Oasis which during low season (September to November) was $9 per person for a private room with A/C and a TV. But the more attractive aspect of this hotel is its location right on the river, Rio Napo, and almost adjacent to the boat docks. We went over to the boat docks and started searching for the Coop de Transporte Fluviales Orellana office to buy tickets for the Thursday passenger boat to Nuevo Rocafuerte. However, there was no building or sing in sight so we started asking around. It ended up that we were directed across the plaza to a group of middle-aged ladies sitting next to a block wall chatting and laughing. As we approached bewildered we saw one of the ladies holding a clipboard with ticket stubs. She was very cheerful and helpful. We bought two tickets for $15 each then asked her about the schedule for the boat. While the Lonely Planet has this information mostly correct here is a little extra and more updated schedule:
                               
                                  Cocá to Nuevo Rocafuerte                         Nuevo Rocafuerte to Cocá
                                  Sunday                 7:30 AM                             Sunday                5:00 AM
                                  Tuesday              7:30 AM                              Tuesday              5:00 AM
                                  Thursday             7:30 AM                             Thursday             5:00 AM
                                  Friday                   7:30 AM                             Friday                   5:00 AM

There are two boats that alternate making it so one boat goes up river and one boat goes down river the dame days. The boat ride is about 10 hours with a lunch break which is an extra cost of $2.50. Another note, when we loaded the boat they charged us an extra $5 for Ryan´s surfboard bag. They said it was a cargo transport fee. We were skeptical since it was a large boat not lacking in extra space and they were transporting bulk packages of soda, rice, and other items. Is this just a charge the ¨gringo¨ more scheme? No, actually we did see them charging other Ecuadorian passengers for their extra cargo as well. So keep this in mind. They should not charge you for your backpacks but if you have a lot of extra baggage there may be extra fees.

We made it! We arrived in Teña at 2 am Friday morning after a 9 hour bus to bus ride from Babahoyo. Unfortunately, because of the robbery we had to skip Guaranda and Salinas de Guaranda since we had planned to meet Erin in Teña on Thursday night. Erin has been working/volunteering at AmaZoonico, an animal rescue center which is an hour by bus and 20 minutes in a canoe from Teña, for the past 6 weeks since we last left her. 

After a couple house of sleep Erin showed us around Teña so we could stock up on bug repellent and mentol chino (a menthol vaseline like Tiger Balm which relieves the itch of mosquito bites). She said, ¨Of course there are mosquitoes in the jungle but the sand flees are what´s even worse.¨

Friday night we went with Erin and the other volunteers to their favorite cocktail place. After a while I got tried and went back to the hostel, but Ryan, Erin and the others all went to a discoteca (nightclub). Apparently, I was told the next day, Ryan was quite the dancer. Saturday morning we had to wake up at 4 am to catch the first bus back to AmaZoonico because work starts at 7 am. The animals can´t wait to get fed just because everyone was hung over, expect for me.

One of the main responsibilities in AmaZoonico is to feed the animals. This happens twice a day and it´s a process. First all the volunteers cut up the food: bananas, platanos, papaya, yucca, corn, guayaba, sugar cane, oats, etc. and put it in the appropriate bucket. The feeding is divided into 3 ¨tours¨. The ¨front tour¨ consist of the toucans, kinkajou, baby turtles, and peccary pigs. The ¨monkey tour¨ which obviously include monkeys (squirrel monkeys, wooly monkeys, spider monkeys, capuchin monkeys) along with macaws and parrots, capybaras and caiman. The third is the ¨grand tour¨. This consists of more peccary pigs, more macaws and parrots, more kinkajous, jaguarondi, more turtles and the ocelots, my favorite. Feedings take about an hour to hour and half.

Usually after the feedings the volunteers have various tasks such as repairing and extra cleaning of the animal enclosures, carrying rocks or digging holes for grounds maintenance and giving tours to tourist groups. The good thing about having international volunteers is the tours can be conducted in several languages. When we were at AmaZoonico they did Spanish, English, French and German tours.

The first day, Saturday, besides both of us helping with the feedings, Ryan did the dirty work of repairing and cleaning the kinkajou enclosure while I lucked out and helped Erin and her friends cook dinner. They were having an international week for dinner in which volunteers from the same country cooked their traditional food. Erin from New Zealand, Emily from England and Sara from Canada were the ¨Common Wealth¨ team. I helped them put on High Tea for dinner: scones, mini sandwiches with homemade bread, and bread pudding.

Sunday is disinfectant day so every thing gets clean, clean, clean; the volunteer houses, the kitchens, the animal fruit and veggie bodega, buckets, counters, floors, everything!! Ryan and I helped clean the bodega and one the kitchens. Monday is delivery day along with Thursday. AmaZoonico buys all their fruit and veggies from neighboring jungle locals, a way to give back to the community. All the fruits and veggies is transported by canoes and dumped on the shore at the base of AmaZoonico. The volunteers then have to carry branches of bananas/platanos and potato sacks of papaya, yucca, avocado, etc., etc. up the 180 stairs and 100 yards down further more to the bodega. Again Ryan and I helped out but lucked out because the load wasn´t that big this Monday. Later in the day I helped dig holes and carry rocks while Ryan cleaned, organized and hung bananas. For only being drop in volunteers/visitors we were told several time that we are hard workers and it was appreciated since working was not required of us.

Today Erin and her friends / our new friends Emily, Sami, Teresa and Sara all had the day off. We got to sleep in, casually have breakfast then went to a near by town later on. Most all transportation in the jungle, on the river is by motorized ¨taxi¨ canoes. We flagged down a passing ¨taxi¨ to take us across the river about 100 yards to an island. Leading the way Erin scurried us quickly through the semi-dense jungle to the other side of the island to make sure we caught the next canoe. There is no official schedule for the ¨taxi¨ canoe pick ups but they do tend to be at certain riverbanks at nearly the same time everyday. If you miss a canoe it may be another hour before one passes by again. We got back from our short day trip just before dinner then joined Erin, Emily, Sami, Teresa and Sara for their ¨wine night¨ tonight. We all chatted for hours and said our goodbyes since Ryan and I are leaving early tomorrow morning for Coca, the start of our journey crossing the border from Ecuador to Peru by boats on the Rio Napo and into the depths of the Amazon. 

~~Debbrial Rodgers~~

I never believed we were impervious to the demise of the “Riff Raff” down here, south of our home borders. Coming so close to the end of our great adventure I was beginning to think we were going to make it relatively unscaved. Relative, because of a few bothersome borders and a handful of bribes paid to cops back when we had the van.

                I had heard that bus theft was a problem before making it to South America and knew not to store valuables in overheads compartments or fall asleep without your backpack in your lap. But true to our method of keeping our bags close to our feet and sometimes clipped to our shoes, didn’t seem to cut it on this bus trip. It may have been an over lapse from our quiet month in Curia, having our guard’s down or always having had our “feet up” that the destruction of the final months of our trip were threatened. 

After our lazy day in Guayaquil we headed toward Salinas, in the hills of Central Ecuador, to sample some chocolate, cheese and sausage we had read about. In the second hour of our four hour trip to Salinas, is when Debb had ask me for the camera. Feet kicked up over Debb’s lap and deep into my novel about Che Guevara, I was reluctant to move from my comfy position. Good thing I did cause that’s when I found my bag not in its usual spot. In a panic I thought I left it on the curb during our hasty bus transfer. Then I quickly realized that wasn’t possible because I had been reading my book that came from my bag. With a fast look for guilty eyes among the other passengers and finding none I began to search under the seats of the rows behind me. As my panic grew with each passing row it finally climaxed behind the row of an old lady who looked as scared as I was panicked. By now everyone is savvy to what has happened and some of the other passengers around begin to help piece together what happened to my laptop, camera, passport and sunglasses. At which point “grandma” tells me that she saw the whole thing!!!! She tells me that it was the three “Vendedores” – the guys who jump on the bus and sell food and drinks as the bus passes through town. “SAW THE WHOLE THING!!!!!”, I yelled at her in Spanish “And you don’t say anything? You just sit there like you are watching a movie on TV.” I don’t know where that came from and if she is reading this I am sorry. LOL

Our bus just happened to pull into a stop for more passengers in Babahoyo and we jumped off to flag a cop down. Lucky for us the thieves had jumped off the bus about 15 minutes earlier in Jujan. With some help from a few passengers a half ass description was put together. With that and a pieced together of everyone’s recollection of the events I did my best on getting Babahoyo’s finest on the case. OF COURSE, we waited around for the Policia  pick up truck for 20 minutes and in that time I am pretty sure I had seen them drive by us twice. Waiting is something I have become used to doing down here and have oddly enough come to terms with it and kinda enjoy it. Today was not one of those days; instead I walked a fine line of losing control.

You would think once we were picked up that we would head out to Jujan where our suspects we reported getting on and off the bus. NO NO NO!!!! They dragged us down to the office to make a report instead. At which point, after explaining where I believed I was robbed, the lady behind the desk asks me “So what side of the bridge did these guys get off the bus?”  The fuck if I know!!!! Do I look like I am from around here and know what bridge you are talking about? This is when the precinct battle begins. “It started in Jujan so it’s Jujan’s case.” “Yeah, but the guy got off in Babahoyo and he probably lives here. So it is our case.” Mean while I am screaming in my head. “Look guys! We wouldn’t have to make a report if we just went back and got the guy. I am sure the town isn’t that big. And as dumb as I believe the guy is, he has more than likely bragged to someone about it. What do you say we go out there and ask around?” After a few phone calls and some mumbled words amongst themselves they decided to rush Debb and I out to Jujan. After a quick switch to a Jujan police pick up I found myself in a small substation crammed with about 20 guys. I scan the room only seeing 20 older men, scared and all “appearing” innocent. Surely the guy is not going to hang around the streets after the score he had just made on all my stuff. But the Policia ask me anyways. “So these are all the Vendedores in the area. Which ones did it?” That’s when I realize I never saw them. I never looked up from my book to inspect every person or creature getting on or off the bus, like I ALWAYS do.

Everyone starts yelling and things become chaotic. I am having a hard time thinking if I can add to the description given by the other passengers. I ask for what was written down from the police and almost laughed out loud. The passengers described the guys as “Three Vendedores…. One selling water and soda, one selling chips and another selling bread and cookies. Frustrated, I begin to laugh because in a room of 20 guys, at least 3 to 4 of them each are selling the same goods. I share a few details from the shadows of my memory. All I can remember is his ass covered in light blue jeans in my face and 2 different colored home made chips set on his hip blocking my view of everything. From the back one guy steps forward and states that he knows the group and where they like to work and hang out.

Back in the truck again with our new info and more help. Through Jujan, where angry wives ask what their husbands in back of the truck have gotten into. Mean while stopping to ask others on the street for sightings of the trio. We are directed again farther down toward their favorite bar. A strange place I felt fitting for thieves. Smelling like a pig farm with plump pantless women stepping out of doors to check us out. Second strike, they had been there but were seen headed into Babahoyo. 45 more minutes of what felt like chasing a ghost and all of us were done with the running around. Leaving us at the door of our hotel with a phone number and a promise they will look for the thieves in the morning, we check in and headed up to our room.  Slumped down on the bed together, it was silent for the first time since 9 in the morning. With little to say as the feelings of being violated crept in as the shock wore off. I laid back and Debb headed for the window and pulled back the curtains. Watching Debb staring down at the bus stop across the street, with a death stare toward all the Vendedores jumping on an off the buses hoping our man would turn up before dark. I fell asleep.

I slept like a rock, surprisingly, and opened my eyes finding Debb still staring down at the street. She reminded me that it wasn’t all just a bad dream. Like always, Debb and I are thinking about the same ideas in our heads. This mornings idea was to go back out to Jujan and get our stuff back myself. I was delaying by rolling the idea around my head trying to figure the best way to approach this. Really I was more worried what I would do to the guy when I found him with our stuff. Debb starts off with hints and jokes about finding our stuff in Jujan with no help from the police. This leads to her yelling at me for what I know I should be doing anyways, “Get off your ass and use your nija skills and get my computer back!!!!” Not ever thinking I had nija skills before, now I grab some cash, a book about surfing in Central America and my empty backpack. Give Debb a kiss and tell her I am going to be a while and to lock the door behind me.

I found the bus to Jujan and 30 minutes later and a bit nervous I jump off at the edge of town. A couple hundred yards from the police station I stand on the side of the road and just watch a for a few minutes and wonder how dumb I must be. I thought, “Fuck it. It’s worth a try and nobody will be expecting me”. So I headed to the police station to check in on this mornings search. My buddies in Blue were more then surprised to see me. I could tell they had done nothing about the morning search by their answers and lack of eye contact. I told ‘em thanks anyways and that I was going to have a look around myself. I think they wanted to laugh at me but saw the look in my eyes and awkwardly nodded a slight approval. I wasn’t asking so much as I was warning them, and walking out I think they got that as well.

I headed into town and found the perfect spot to sit and watch. A bench back off the road against a wall out of the sun. With a large speed bump in the road in front of me I had more time to look into cars, and people would only notice me long after I had been watching them. I pulled out my book and looking over the top began to conspire stories and sizing up everyone that passed. EVERYONE!!!! 30 minutes later a couple of old guys wandered out from the alley to my left and filled the bench that I was sitting on. They were kind of blowing my cover with their teasing kids and cat calling. Oh well, it’s not like I could pull out my silenced pistol and shot ‘em like James Bond. Plus they were pretty funny and soon struck conversation with me. El Viejo, “the old man”, next to me broke the ice with, “You’re the gringo who was robbed on the bus the other day, Right?” “Yep and I am here to get my stuff back, mainly my passport.” Another Viejo wandered over and the three of them started swapping stories about the times they had been robbed. Soon they forgot I was there and left me to focus on my man hunt.

Over the next hour there were a few guys that stood out and one I even followed for about 5 minutes. I had only been back on the bench for a few minutes when I couldn’t take my eyes off this short stocky guy in his mid 30’s wearing a black t-shirt. Till now I don’t know what it was about this guy. I don’t even think he was on the bus, but this was “the guy”. Hairs standing on the back of my neck, I shoved my book in my empty backpack and jogged across the street behind a passing semi-truck. I quickly closed the distance between us while he was looking down at his feet. I stop in his path and wait for the last few feet to close in before he runs into me. As he looks up I tell him flat out “Hi there! I believe you have my stuff and I want them back.” Appearing shocked and then panicked struck, his eyes dart around for an escape. I step forward real close and tell him I will give him 20 bucks for whatever he has. He begins to back peddle and pull a black bag in close to his body. That is when I realize Shit the little fucker has my passport on him!!! A thought flashed through my mind about taking him down and saving the 20 bucks. But he counter offered $40 and although I had it I told him to wait here and I would bring him $60. Agreed, I turned and headed for the police station. I was hoping they could grab him and put the “squeeze” on him for my computer and camera.

I flew through the door at the police station, once again, catching all three of the Policia off guard. They must have been tired from the “morning search” for the thieves. Because after telling who and where to find “the guy”, they all had to pull their feet off the small desk, strap on their gun belts and collectively search for the car keys. They pushed me out the door and I headed for the truck. Only to be told to stay put and wait here. Wait…..again……. 20 minutes later they brought “the guy” back sniffling and red faced. That’s when I see my blue box that carries my emergency cards, passport and yellow fever stamp, in the hands of one of the officers. Now every hair on my body is erect at this point and all I want to know is if my passport is there. We all go into the station and they take “the guy”, crying into the back room. I go through my box and find it all there! Meanwhile I can hear them slapping the Bandito around and repeatedly ask him where the electronics are.

Cutting the story short I rode in the back seat next to the crying Bandito to the office where I had started the report in Babahoya. Much more waiting and them still hanging onto my passport was giving me an anxiety attack. They then tell me that I can’t have my passport back until tomorrow after all the paperwork is done. In short they loose my passport, by 11am and have to track it down in one of their 4 office buildings spread from one end of town to the other. Once it was found the guy behind the desk tells me that I can’t have it for 2 more days because they need it for evidence. The thought crossed my mind again…..just take him out real fast and run. Instead I threatened a call to the US Embassy and things turned around. I signed a form, which they questioned my signature because I signed so quickly, and handed over my passport. I was out the door before that paper pusher could look up and feed me some other line of bullshit.

30 minutes later, bear hugging my backpack on the bus. We left Babahoya with one finger out the window waving good bye FOREVER!

~~Ryan Rodgers~~

An hour out of Babahoya into the Andes to Guaranda and Salinas. The hectic, horrible few days at least ended with an amazing view as the bus climbed through the first cloud shelf and emerged displaying a white ocean of clouds softly flowing upon the mountian rid

Buses from Olón, the next town south from Curía before Montañita, leave daily to Guayaquil the second largest city in Ecuador. It’s a 3-3 ½ hour ride and the frequent departure times are painted on the wall at the Olón bus station. We took the 9.45 am bus planning to arrive around 1 pm. We had heard from several people around town that there isn’t much to do in Guayaquil besides walk along the new Malecón 2000 (promenade), visit a few parks such as Parque del Centenario and Parque Bolívar, and hike to the lighthouse on the hilltop of Cerro Santa Ana. Confirming this rumor in our Lonely Planet we figured an afternoon and one night in Guayaquil would be enough. More like a stop over before going back northeast into the Andes the next day.

The bus terminal in Guayaquil is large, organized and modern operating both regional buses and the local city buses. Inside the terminal there are rows of ticket booths for the regional buses organized by region and color coordinated matching the exterior color of the ticket booths to large wall directories. We bought our tickets for the next morning to Guaranda before catching a city bus downtown about 7 km away. We stayed at Hotel Sander, a block away from Parque del Centenario, $14 for a room with air conditioning. A decent hotel and a good price.

We walked to Parque Bolívar stopping for freshly carved turkey sandwiches for lunch on the way (a common meal in Guayaquil). Parque Bolívar though small is a unique site and worth visiting to see the massive free wandering iguanas that rule this square block. The iguanas roam from the small pond to soft green grass mounds to climbing in the trees and walking the paths right under your feet. There was one tree that had so many iguanas it was like they were the leaves of the tree, 30-40 at least.

After this we walked down to the Malecón 2000 and were thoroughly impressed. This re-development city project has just the right balance of new age modern construction and architecture along with footpaths and ponds in tropical gardens. We walked up and down the promenade pass the Yatch Club and commercial center which had a McDonalds and the scent of French fires in the air. Pass the reminiscent of a three day open-air art competition where the contestants were gathering listening to the final results. Casually strolling along we admired the families, kissing couples, small children playing in the playground and at the end of the Malecón we hiked up Cerro Santa Ana and Las Peñas hillside neighborhood stairs. Las Peñas is a super cute reconstructed, colorfully painted and cobblestone alleyways neighborhood. The stairs leading through it are all number from the bottom to the top, 444 in total. From the lighthouse at the top it’s a great view of Guayaquil, Rio Guayas and the hundreds of spotted islands out toward the ocean.

We took lots of pictures of the iguanas in Parque Bolívar, along the Malecón 2000, of Las Peñas and the lighthouse from afar and the 444 numbered stairs. But unfortunately we were robbed on the bus from Guayaquil to Guaranda and our camera was one of the things we lost.  Ryan will explain the whole story in the next blog. Here are a few pictures Idownloaded from the internet of Guayaquil.

~~Debbrial Rodgers~~

At the end of our second week living in Curía Ryan and I were going for a walk on the beach with Allie running and playing right alongside us. Not far from our house we met another couple just starting a run on the beach with their dogs. Robbie approached us, introduced himself and Holly, his girlfriend, and their two dogs Yaden and Bella. They told us they are from Los Angeles, California and had just moved to Ecuador two days ago. They had been to Montañita several times in the past, loved it and decided to move here. They said they are renting a house in Curía just 200 yards away from ours; we should all hangout. We told them quickly about our adventures of traveling through Central and South America for the last two years and we are also renting a house in Curia; we would love to hang out with them. So now we have more new friends and our small town Curía isn’t as quiet anymore.

We hit it off with Robbie and Holly right away and enjoy hanging out with them. We had a BBQ a few days after we met them which we invite them to along with Mike and Linda our next door neighbors. During dinner Robbie further explained their plan is to immediately invest in land in this area and buy a house. Then in the next so odd years they are going to parcel off most of the land and build their dream house. What a great plan!! This is exactly what Ryan and I have thought about doing in places like Nicaragua or Panama; until we decided we want to buy a sailboat and sail around the world instead or first. There are still so many beautiful, undeveloped and inexpensive areas in Central and South America where it is still possible to obtain the “American dream”. It’s just now the “America” has changed.  

Ryan and Robbie have gone surfing together (Holly and I go along sometimes), we’ve gone to Montañita for dinner and drinks, met a lot of their local expat friends, watched Sunday American Football and went horseback riding on their new property. It’s such as small world. We are thousands of miles away from home, in Ecuador, in a still basically off-the-grid remote beach area, in a small town/village and we meet another couple, our age, from almost our home town and I found out we are also friends with the same people.

It’s been great living the slow pace life in Curía with a hint of partying in Montañita and making new friends. But we are coming up on the end of our one month which means we are back on the road. We are heading back into the chilly, highlands of Ecuador, across the Andes Mountains and down into the mighty Amazon.

~~Debbrial Rodgers~~