Hidden Waterfalls of Sayausi

Our hiking group, usually led by the intrepid Jeff Van Pelt, headed out on the number 3 bus towards Sayausi yesterday. It's a little area north west (ish) of Cuenca. Once we got to our stop, we grabbed two mixtos and headed up the hill to our starting point. (I have no idea what the stop was, I wasn't paying attention...which is one of the reasons I don't host any hikes.)

"Can I come, too?"

For those that have the time and energy, there's actually a loop route that takes around 6 hours to complete, but you have to go prepared, and we had a nice lunch waiting for us at Le Petit Jardin.

Shahbaz, trying out a friend's sunglasses
at Le Petit Jardin

One of the quirks of the outskirts is that you occasionally have to cross private land to get to some of these trails. Usually, Ecuadorians are generous and just wave at you as you go past. This particular hike uses a private road to access the trail head and the gentleman there has learned that he can press gringos (maybe locals, too) for a few bucks each to pass over his land. We happily avoided this instance yesterday, but be prepared, should you find yourself in this type of situation. (We were once denied access all together on a hike, despite a sign indicating that it was a tourism project...go figure.)

Our guide Jeff, finding these places for us to hike

The actual trail, once off the road was narrow and shaded by eucalyptus trees and heavy bamboo stands. The conditions were mostly perfect, damp ground, but not muddy, making for good grip under the feet. The sun came and went with the large, drifting clouds overhead and a slight breeze kept things cool for the most part. 

John, intrepidly making his way down

It's a steep climb and the side trails down to the sets of "cascades" (waterfalls) aren't marked, so it took a bit of exploration and daring-do to find the access points. We heartless used Ron (my hubbie), for his tirelessness, to check out the tracks before heading down ourselves. This isn't your North American adventure. The paths aren't made for safety, nor are they cleared for easy access, you just follow a little trail, ducking and twisting as necessary (not to mention slipping and grabbing branches) to get to these little pockets of peace. They are definitely not for those with crappy knees, aversion to heights or a deep need to know exactly where you're going.

Ron, guiding people down the steep embankment

We were rewarded with dappled sunlight, narrow falls and moss covered rocks. Once we'd cleared the "danger" area and avoided paying a toll to access what we assume is public land, we walked back down the hill and stopped at one of our guide's favourite restaurants for lunch.

Fairy glen

It was a great day, with interesting and amusing friends and a new adventure under our belts. 

So Begins the Rainy Season

How people think about the weather here in Cuenca is not how I grew up thinking about weather. Canadians LOVE to discuss all things climate related and it's the go to conversation if you run out of small talk.

Here the weather just, well...IS. If it's rainy, the people consider it to be "frio" (cold) and if it's sunny, then it's "calor" (hot). There seems to be no in between. It took me to years to learn the word "tibio" (tepid), as no one uses that concept here.

You can read the weather sites and posts about what the weather is like at a particular time of year here, but it's half-baked science at best (I think the weather stations are poorly placed, therefore not actually all that accurate) and pure conjecture at worst. I believe most travel sites will tell you that rainy season starts somewhere in late February/March and ends somewhere in there, too, sometimes extending to April. As far as I can tell, none of the websites actually agree.

Upside? You do get some stunning sunsets

Locals generally don't worry about it, it's just part of their daily existence that they'll need an umbrella, scarf, gloves and knitted/polar fleece cap (I'll explain that momentarily). Most wear several layers of clothes, even if the temperature is an intense 27C. (This feels more like in the 30s due to the thinner air and closer proximity to the sun.)

Love the clear, blue sky days, but they're unusual

It's only mid-January and it seems like the rainy season is upon us. I liken it to autumn or spring in Vancouver (with less temperature swings). We're now only on day 2 of cloudy overcast skies and relentless drizzle that switches to full blown tropical rain on a whim. Because of the rain, the locals will consider it cold. (They don't understand minus Celsius temperatures for the most part, they barely understand single digit temperatures. Last year the "cold snap", temperatures dropped to 12C in the day. Don't roll your eyes, people living up in the Northern states and Canada.)

Completely socked in days are unusual, too

So, I expect to see a lot of winter wear, as mentioned above, and worry about the cold. Most will ask why we aren't wearing a heavier jacket. (Sometimes in the day we, horrifyingly, don't wear a jacket at all!) We'll definitely get warnings about catching a cold or the flu. No matter that you tell them these come from germs and viruses, there is an underlying belief system that to be cold is to have a cold. 

The skies are most often like this, and cheers to it!

Let's hope that the rainy season is short and not too brisk. It's always a shame to have to pull out the little space heater or wear socks around the house. (I can hear your eyes rolling!)

Cajas on My Mind

Last Saturday, our hiking group decided to do a nice 8km hike through the Cajas which ended up as 13km, with a few of the group sleeping over night in a lovely grove that would be well sheltered from the weather, if lacking in amenities. I wasn't going to go. The Cajas are notorious for cranky weather, uneven and poorly marked trails and I'm still recovering from my injuries.

That morning, the skies looked quite clear, I could see the mountains and just couldn't stand the thought of staying in the house one more day, so I geared up and off Ron and I went to the meeting point. We had to wait for the bus for over an hour...this is Ecuador, after all and my tendon started cramping up, but I persevered.

Lady of the Waterfall

The delay didn't do us much favours with the weather. After about 40 minutes on the bus, we debarked (de-bussed?) and were met with hail. Thankfully, most of us had dressed appropriately and it was but a minor irritant. Side note: layers are important under these circumstances, I only had a running shirt on and they my rain jacket and could feel the little pellets binging off my shoulders. It hailed so much that the ground was white and though none of us suggested not continuing, I did wonder what I'd gotten myself into. I added another layer between me and the projectiles and found myself far more comfortable.

Thanks LT, for the photo..the white stuff is hail.

The good news was that the sky eventually relented and we dried out and made it to the camping spot with only one member taking a tumble. (It wasn't me.) The scenery was stunning; filled with lakes, waterfalls and empty vistas that make you feel like there's no one else on the planet. (Except the 14 people we were hiking with, of course.)

The shelter of the wooded copse

Paper trees - one of the few that grow well at
high altitude

Some witty person said we're like the children of Isreal
spreading out across our land

Those of us that weren't staying over had another 3kms or so, to get back to the main road and try and catch a bus. The passage took down two more of us, myself included. (This is bad news, the last thing I need to do is fall on my broken bum, which bears the question why was I there in the first place? Hind sight is 20/20 as they say.) 

A gentleman fisher

Lone tree

One of the many river valleys through the Cajas

We were incredibly lucky to catch a bus only minutes after arriving at the highway and as we headed back home the sun started breaking through the cloud cover, just in time to welcome us back to Cuenca.

Credit John Keeble - Master of the Action shot

Actual footage of me going down on my butt

I'm suffering for the fall, or possibly, just because that's how this healing process goes, but it was worth it. There is no better balm for the soul than being out in nature, but for the time, my big hike days are on hold. I can't wait for the time when I can fearlessly strap on my boots and get back out into the wild.

The Hills are Calling

Chimbarazo - one of Ecuador's many volcanoes.

It's been three and a half months since I was assailed by my horrible affliction. Through trial and error, I finally started (real) recovery at the very beginning of the new year. It has been a long road and I'm still struggling with morning stiffness, discomfort through the night and various little surprises that make me know that I'm still not repaired entirely. Be that as it may, I'm up and around more, trying to get back to normal. It may be the hardest part of the recovery. I can't do all the things I want, nor even most of the things, but I can do some things (like make the bed, do the house cleaning, walk (very carefully) around the city) and that makes it dangerous.

The hills surrounding Cuenca

I scared myself recently. The laptop started to tip over and I reacted instinctively to try and grab it. I felt a sharp pull in my damaged tendon and then the throbbing set in. It's been a couple of days and I know I've "tweaked" something, but not so badly that I'm back at square one. It's probably a good thing that it's rainy season, as I can hear the hills calling and I'm desperate to get back out on hikes, long walks to unknown places and getting my body moving again. In the mean time, I'm learning new things, like how to knit (at which I suck), making pasta (I did better at that), but not writing, no...why ever would I fill my time with something like that?

El Cajas - something not to be missed

It might be a bit of time yet, before I tie on my hiking boots, but I'm pretty sure I can see it happening. The mountains surrounding Cuenca are buried in cloud today, so they aren't as tempting as when the sun is shining; highlighting the amazing greens and golds that make the Cajas so spectacular. 

And so I heeded the call. It was a simple hike, more a gambol through the countryside, than trekking, but it was good to be out in the fresh air, away from the city. We arrived in Llacao after a 30 cent and 45 minute bus ride and wandered around the hills surrounding the town.

Vaqueros

Political Advertising a la Ecuador

Although it was overcast, I still managed to get sun burnt. I guess my poor pasty skin just couldn't handle the UVs, no matter how filtered. It was a good. day and I will be grateful to lay my head to rest tonight.

The crazy crew that put up with my hobbling.

 

A Trip to Ecuador - Part 2 Climate

Climate! What to pack? What's it going to be like? Aigh! 
 
Okay, so let's not panic. While Ecuador is close to the equator (hence it's name) not everywhere is hot. For a trip that traverses the three climactic zones, layering is going to be key. 

The Coast is more casual and you will see more shorts, flips flops, sandals and tank tops. Why? Because it's hot, sticky and everything is damp, especially during the rainy season. (February to early April - but that's only a rough guide line.) It runs in the low to high 30's (Celsius) and occasionally can hit the 40's.

The Andes are cooler, you might need a light jacket at night, or if you're wandering around the Volcanoes or highlands, you could need gloves, knit hat and scarf. (It kind of depends where you come from and the time of year.) In Cuenca and Quito, we get by fine with just a light jacket or sweater, even during the cooler season in July. I've never had to use gloves, scarf or toque (that's a knit beanie for US readers). However, I've been up in the Cajas and have needed all three - oh, and I'm Canadian, so I have a certain innate tolerance for cold.

Here's my strategy: I have a light weight rain shell, that can protect me from unexpected downpours (which are remarkably frequent over a good part of the country), a sweater/exercise jacket and then my shirt of choice. This usually does me for any and all temperatures here. On the coast, I stuck to the same process, but usually only needed one extra layer if it was raining. An umbrella is also an excellent idea.

Trusty athletic jacket and rain shell.

In the Andean cities it is fairly unusual to see shorts on anyone (except children and teenage girls). You do see tank tops and skirts, but men almost always wear pants. Shoes are a big deal here, but most locals expect foreigners to go for comfort and not style. Nice restaurants can have very well dressed people (suits and ties) but there will also be people dressed more casually and you probably won't be denied service because of dress.

Andean Wilderness Trekking Gear

If you're heading to the Amazon you're going to want decent travel/trekking clothes; light weight, water repellent, with long sleeves and pant legs. (That keeps the bugs out.) You'll also want a good hat, bug spray and really good sunscreen. A bathing suit is recommended so you can frolic with the piranhas (not kidding), and other river fauna. Oh, and be prepared for mud...lots of it...the suck your boots off your feet kind of quagmire that only happens in places that are constantly wet.

I want to make a point of discussing sunscreen...it is a must. (Many people say the same for hats, but I only haul mine out on the very hottest of days, but I have tons of hair, so that affects my selection process.) The rays of the sun here are strong...really strong. 16 degrees here feels like 23 and 23 feels like you're heading towards 30. It's not something to mess with. I can stay out for most of the day in ambient sunlight in Vancouver and not burn, but here it only takes 15 minutes for me to turn as red as a lobster. Even the locals use sunscreen or cover themselves up and use umbrellas to protect themselves. This applies to anywhere in the country and anyplace even near the equator.

 

Footwear will depend on what you like to do on your holidays Hiking shoes (good tread, good support and breathable) are recommended so you can be comfortable and trek around easily. They can take you from city streets, to the national parks and the rocky shores of the Galapagos. They also tend to be water proof, which is a bonus for wandering in the mud of the Amazon. You might want to bring rubber flip flops if you plan on staying in hostels and for going to places like visiting towns with natural hots springs like Banos de Imbarra, Banos de Cuenca etc, plus they're great for the beaches on the coast. Whatever shoes you choose to bring make sure they have rubber soles with good grip; this will prevent you from sliding over the wet tiles that often pave the sidewalks in the cities - this is a million dollar tip and will save you from sitting on your fanny in the middle of the street because of a little rain shower. (It;s embarrassing and I speak from experience.)

If you have any questions about Ecuador, please let me know. Further installments to come.

In Search of the Monks' Backs

Do you ever wake up in the morning and just want to do something? No, neither do I...usually. I'm not known as a morning person. I usually think it's amazing that I get up, drink a cup of coffee and go work out. (Better to do it when I'm half asleep, right?)

But yesterday was different. The sky was a bright, pure blue that just called to me and the hill across the valley of Cuenca was mocking me. We'd made a couple of attempts to get to it before. Once was a sad sort of "maybe-we-can-figure-out-the-road" sort of attempt and the other was fairly serious, but we'd come unequipped - meaning no food. So yesterday was the day, dammit! (It felt wrong omitting that word.) Even though we'd gone to the gym first thing in the morning, we thought "why not?"

We sunscreened up (yes, that's actually "a thing"), packed a lunch, loaded up our water bottles and headed off. Here's where the mountain/hill is from our place:

Las Espaldas de Monjos

Now don't get all freaked out, it seems farther than it actually is. At least that's what we told ourselves, anyway. We walked down our little hill, through El Centro, up Avenida Solano past Tres Puentes, up a brutally steep side street to reach the stairs before the stairs of Mirador Turi. We scuttled down a dirt road, crossed Las Americas, climbed the embankment and finally got to the Turi staircase. 439 stairs later we arrived at the church directly opposite (across the bowl of the city) our condo. Now, all we had to do was find the road to Las Espaldas de Monjos.

Closer up view from our place

Actual first steps to Turi

The bell tower of Turi

Don't get us wrong, we'd done as much homework as we could, but maps here don't really go outside the city proper (meaning El Centro) and it's pretty hard to figure it out on online maps if you aren't exactly sure what you're looking for. (It's not like the hill top is marked on Google Maps.)

We asked directions and the two men at the bus stop seemed surprised by our destination, but yes, we were going the right way. They pointed to a road arching up towards the hill top and we merrily went on our way. Sure we had to pass heaps of barking dogs, the further you go into the countryside the more dogs you'll see - no small feat considering how many dogs are in the city.

Seriously gorgeous day.

Baby cow! 

Final-ish stretch

We don't worry so much about the street dogs, but the owned dogs can be aggressive and unpredictable. We passed cows and sheep, more chickens than you can shake a stick at and suddenly the hill came in to view. The only problem was that the road was turning away from it. We carried on, assuming that it would, eventually, loop back. This happened several times and we debated on whether we should give up or not but we finally found ourselves at the ridge of Las Espaldas de Monjos. Of course, you can't see that part from where we live.

We followed the dirt road up and around one of the hills and could finally see a direct road link to our destination. We made it to the cross that marks the top of the hill in two hours and fifteen minutes. Not bad, considering we had to stop and ask for directions a couple of times and took one wrong turn. We honestly should have known that there are no "direct" roads to darn near anywhere here, but in many ways we're still naïve.

Been there, done that!

The views were well worth the walk and we enjoyed our picnic lunch amongst the butterflies that inhabit the summit. I'll let the photos speak for themselves.

Ecuadorian pose!

Las Cajas in the distance

Surrounding landscape

In a fit of pure optimism (buoyed by our success, no doubt) we tried to find a shorter path down, but only got to some steep cliffs that were impassable without mountaineering equipment, so we were forced to hike back up to the summit and return the way we'd come. Fortunately, it was mostly down hill going back, so it only took us a couple of hours.

Artsy pic with the cross's shadow

From the back side of Turi

If walking 18.5 kms isn't your thing, you can always catch the #19 bus and it will drop you off on the road that runs the ridge to the hill, but for us - what would be the fun in that?

Wow! We Have an Answer to the "Why Ecuador?" Question

If finally came to us...just today...a good answer for the dreaded "Why Ecuador?" question. Usually we say things like "why not?" or "seemed like a good idea at the time". But today was the day when we found a logical, pleasing and fairly unarguable reason to love Ecuador. It's super easy to stay healthy. Right? Who can argue with that?

Not lookin' too bad, right?

The weather is, at the very least, acceptable for outdoor activity all year round. There are lots of walking paths, parks with exercise equipment, free bikes on Sunday mornings, cheap and plentiful gyms. (We currently pay a dollar each per visit to the local gym.) Add to this the amazing places to hike in Las Cajas and the other neat places around Cuenca makes this an ideal place to retire and keep ourselves fairly fit.

Parque Paraiso (exercise equipment & great paths)

Tomebamba River - multi-use path along side

Yes, it's safe. (That's the other question we get a lot. Why would anyone move somewhere that they didn't feel was safe?) We walk almost everywhere, including toting our groceries home. The cost of living is manageable. Sure you have to learn Spanish and adjust to a simpler diet, but the other health benefits outweigh all that. By the way, living at higher altitudes requires that you eat a bit more carbs and sugars to help oxygenate the blood...that's just a little bonus. It doesn't hit my hips like it did at sea level. (YAY!)

Las Cajas - Endless pathways

So there you have it...we're here for a healthier life!