Ecuador, Day 7

The Church of El Carmen de la Asuncion in Cuenca.

As usual in Quito, car alarms woke me up at around six a.m., despite the fact that I downloaded to iTunes an hour-long “white noise” application and set it on repeat all night. It took me a while to get going, but at a little after seven I made it downstairs for my free breakfast – fresh fruit (a few pieces of cut cantaloupe), cantaloupe juice, coffee, and bread with cheese.

Today was cantaloupe day, apparently.

Since I had time to kill before heading to the airport for my flight to Cuenca, I decided to see if I could find a painting exhibition in what I thought was the culture center near the Plaza Grande. However, upon entering the building and finding most of its wings closed or cordoned off, I decided just to explore the building more, as the architecture was quite stunning.

From the second floor of the Metropolitan Cultural Center.

I hadn’t taken but a few steps into one of the building’s courtyards before an old man approached me speaking English. Nearly begging me to let him guide me through the building, he hooked my arm and began pulling me inside before I could tell him no thanks, or explain that I had to return to my hotel in ten minutes to check out and get a taxi to the airport.

He proceeded to take me on a fifteen-minute tour of the building, which was interesting, and a ten-minute tour of El Ronda, which is a famous neighborhood nearby that I hadn’t explored during my stay in Quito.

Church of El Sagrario.

From the rooftop of the Cultural Center.

As he was explaining things to me, he told me that he had lived in Cleveland and San Diego, where he’d worked as a teacher for a number of years. He returned to Quito in retirement, and he gave tours on his own “just for fun.” As we were walking back from El Rondo, I checked my wallet to see if I had any small change to give him – I was thinking $3, but I only had a $5 bill. So, feeling generous, and thinking he’d be pleased with the amount, I handed it to him, wished him and his family a Merry Christmas, and told him I had to leave. But he hooked my arm again and asked me for more. “For my grandchildren,” he said. “I want to buy them candy.” I was a little taken aback by this, and by the fact that he wouldn’t let go of my arm. He repeated, “A few more dollars. Why not give me ten?” I said no as politely as I could, and when he asked me why not I told him I didn’t have small change and that $5 was enough for his tour. He told me to change my money at any of the banks along the street, but I said no again, and then he tried to pull me into a jewelry shop and said they’d do it for me because I was a foreigner. He was relentless! I was getting angry at this point, but I didn’t want to be rude, so I just shut my trap and kept walking, ignoring his continued pleas for more money. For someone who’d lived in the States for almost twenty years, as he’d said, I was surprised he’d take this approach with me.

In the end, he stopped following me and I decided that, since I wouldn’t have much time for lunch before arriving in Cuenca, I’d get something to go at a local sandwich shop.

I ended up wandering into Cafeteria Carmita, at N3-437 Venezuela Street.

Cafeteria Carmita.

It's mostly just a hole in the wall, with a very stubborn, but otherwise nice, waitress who calls all the shots.

I decided to have a “mixed sandwich” (sanduche mixto, which was ham and cheese) and told the woman working there that I’d take it with me rather than eat there. Of course, she brought out a grilled ham and cheese on a plate, and when I explained to her again that I wanted to take it with me, another man in the restaurant who spoke a bit of English intervened and conveyed to her what I’d already made clear, I’m pretty sure, in Spanish.

“She says you should eat it here,” he told me, then took my hand, shook it, and said his name was Jaime.

“Mucho gusto, Jaime. But I want to take it with me. I told her that when I ordered.”

The woman said something in Spanish, and appeared to be put out.

“She says you have to eat it here.”

“I have to?”

“Yes. You can’t take it out of the door.”

What else could I do? Even though I wasn’t very hungry I sat down and ate what she’d brought out to me. It was only $1.50, and it wasn’t very good.

Meh, it was okay. I can't really complain since it was only $1.50. But seriously, where are the veggies?

After that I returned to my hotel, discovered that they hadn’t done the laundry I’d given them four days ago, and waited another half hour for them to do a rush job and then hand me over a pile of damp clothes. I checked out, relieved to be going somewhere else – Cuenca.

At the airport, which I made it to much easier than I’d made it to the bus station, my flight was, as usual, delayed by a little over an hour. I was worried that I’d lose a full day in Cuenca, but I arrived in plenty of time to walk through what felt like half the city. And I got there just in time for a three-hour power cut, which is always fun.

I started off walking several blocks to the Parque Calderon, which is the main plaza in Cuenca, though there are several plazas in the city.

Parque Calderon.

There are a number of excellent examples of Spanish colonial architecture, though the New Cathedral (Catedral de la Immaculada Concepcion) was built in 1885. It is gigantic, and the inside is as impressive as the outside, which isn’t always the case, I find, in old cathedrals.

New Cathedral.

Front doors of the New Cathedral.

Religious objects for sale outside of the New Cathedral.

Across the street is the Old Cathedral (El Sagrario), which was constructed in 1557 but is in use now only as a museum and recital hall. For one dollar you can wander through the building and view whatever exhibition is being held.

The Old Cathedral.

It was hot out, and I was thirsty, and when I came across a cute little French café beside the Old Cathedral I went inside.

Rather than order something that would quench my thirst, however, I succumbed to temptation and ordered a glass of chocolate-banana milk and a chocolate crepe.

It seems that I'm off the strictly-Ecuadorian-food diet.

Not that that's a bad thing...

Yes, I’m bad. I’m very bad when it comes to midday sweets. But I’m traveling now and all rules are out the window. And besides, my chocolate-banana milk and chocolate crepe were excellent, and only $3.50. Can’t beat that, right? The couple running the café were very nice, too, and apologetic about the lack of electricity. (How’d they make the crepe, I wonder?)

Cozy interior. No better place to hang out when there's no electricity.

Sucré Salé Café is at Luis Cordero 8-74, between Sucre and Bolivar streets. Tel: 284-5181.

From there I continued walking through the city.

There was a really nice flower market outside of this sanctuary.

I came across a number of churches and cathedrals and plazas, and eventually found myself at the Museum of Modern Art, which is across the street from the Church of San Sebastian. However, they had no exhibits running and the only thing I could see was the courtyard, which was a letdown.

Museum of Modern Art. But where was the art?

The Church of San Sebastian is in an interesting little neighborhood.

I continued on toward the Tomebamba River, which runs along a beautiful little river walk that’s sandwiched in between the river itself and grassy slopes and cliffs.

Water makes any city more tranquil.

It’s really lovely, though I stopped walking along it and climbed up a stone stairs when I almost stumbled upon a young man relieving himself just barely off the path – he wasn’t doing the kind of thing you could easily overlook, mind you, which is why I chose not to continue…

The river from the terrace of my hostal.

The city was completely dark by the time I went out for dinner. I was going to go to a restaurant just a block away from where I’m staying, however the owner of my hotel told me not to eat there – ay caramba, they serve Columbian food – and recommended a local restaurant that was on my list of places to go in Cuenca -- Raymipampa. Walking through the pitch black streets was eerie but interesting, and Raymipampa had a generator going that made its interior nearly the only thing lit up in the Parque Calderon.

This place is as cool as its name: Raymipampa.

The electricity came back on about five minutes after I arrived, at which point I was already tucking into the “plato tipical” that I’d ordered. It was very good, and had a number of items I’m still not familiar with: maize mixed with eggs, potato and cheese pancakes (llapingachos), thin cooked pork, chorizo, and a salad with avocado.

Another battle with a huge amount of very rich food. I won!

All of this, and it was a lot, for just $6. My Club Beer was another $1. The restaurant itself has a lot of atmosphere, and caters not just to tourists but also to a local crowd, many of whom seem to be regulars. I highly recommend this for anyone coming to Cuenca.

There are lots of young people selling bead jewelry and other small crafts outside the restaurant.

Raymipampa is located at Benigno Malo 8-59 between Bolivar and Sucre streets. Tel: 283-4159 or 283-4619. Email: raymi859@hotmail.com.

Ecuador, Day 6

Today was a day of transit and rest. And because today was a Sunday, it seemed like just about everyone from Otavalo to Quito also had rest in mind. Small businesses everywhere seemed to be closed, although the Indian market was starting up again at 7 a.m. in Otavalo. I suppose it’s natural in many parts of the world for Sunday mornings to be slow, and for entire towns to shutter up until Monday.

Since I was unable to find any place to have breakfast in Otavalo, I decided to eat at the restaurant in the Ali Shungu Hotel, where I’m staying. If the meal wasn’t exactly Ecuadorian, at least all the ingredients were. I ordered a fruit salad with cream (think whipped cream), a homemade blueberry muffin (tasted sugar-free), and Ecuadorian coffee (rivals Vietnamese coffee for taste).

My fruit bowl was excellent, and that's the only bottomless cup of coffee I've found yet in Ecuador.

This fairly simple spread cost $8.35, which is a lot. Then again, I was in the mood for fresh fruit, and the flavorful pieces of mango, papaya, apple, banana, and pineapple really hit the spot. The muffin wasn’t worth $2.25, but hey, it was a good try.

I had a long conversation with one of the two American owners of Ali Shungu before I left. She regaled me with some amazing stories about her life in Ecuador over the last twenty-plus years. There were so many jaw-dropping tales that I it would be hard to do justice to them in this blog. If you find yourself in Ecuador, I highly recommend visiting Otavalo – you really have to go on a Saturday to get the full experience of the Indian market, however – and if you do come here, you’d make an excellent choice staying at Ali Shungu or their newer property, Ali Shungu Mountaintop Lodge.

In any case, I left Otavalo and returned to Quito, from where I’ll fly tomorrow afternoon to Cuenca. Most of the streets near my hotel were closed down, and while at first I thought there must be some festival going on, someone at my hotel explained that there’s no festival -- Old Town is like this every Sunday. The lack of traffic was fine with me, because the first thing I had to do was try to track down my glasses, which I’d stupidly left at any number of half a dozen restaurants or cafes before I traveled to Otavalo. I made a list of where I’d been – thank goodness for my blog, which was all the reminder I needed! – and started off for what I was sure would be a fruitless search. Unbelievably, the second place I checked produced my glasses. It took me all of five minutes to get them back. I said “Gracias” about a hundred times to the woman at the restaurant who found them, wishing I could say more in Spanish. But she clearly understood my relief and happiness, and now I’ve got my glasses back! After that I wandered around the city, able to see clearly into the far distance again, and took a couple shots of random subjects.

Cute girl posing beside horse. She looks like an ant next to that animal.

A quick shot of the Basílica del Voto Nacional from a street corner near my hotel.

But I was getting hungry, and I decided to try the food at my hotel -- Hotel Catedral -- as it’s always packed from about 11 a.m. until 4 p.m. At 2 p.m. there wasn’t a seat available in the restaurant, so I arranged to eat at a table in the lobby of the hotel. There were two lunch specials that day, and I chose the one that I more or less understood when I heard the waitress tell me what it was.

I ended up getting stewed beef that was mostly bone and fat, a nice soup of potatoes, maize, and carrots, a small serving of strawberries and cream, and a hard-to-drink glass of warm papaya juice (from a bottle, I think).

Looks better that it tasted. Or maybe it doesn't. Anyway, it was disappointing.

For $3.25 it wasn’t bad, but I could have done better elsewhere. I have no idea why so many people come here for lunch all the time.

After that disappointment I decided to hit an ice cream shop that was founded in 1858 – Heladeria San Agustín, which is located at 1053 Guayaquil Street, between Mejia and Chile.

This charming place is a must-visit for anyone traveling to Quito's Old Town.

They make all their ice creams here, and they also sell an assortment of cookies and other treats, as well as breakfast and lunch. Seeing that Christmas is just around the corner, they were all festived-up in greens and reds, and it was packed.

The employees here, who are apparently all part of the esteemed Alvarez Andino family, were very friendly.

I ordered a blackberry ice cream, which cost a mere 70 cents and was out of this world.

Lopsided but amazing.

From there I came back to my hotel to read, write some emails, and research Cuenca. I seemed to have fallen asleep for about half an hour, and it wasn’t long before I was hungry again – sorry, I know it looks like I eat twenty times a day, but in fact I’m just doing a poor job of describing the passage of time…

Anyway, when it was time for dinner I found myself in the same predicament as earlier – nothing was open! I ended up heading to the Plaza Grande to try some secos de chivo, which I’ve been dying to have since getting to Ecuador, but the restaurant I wanted to try was closed. The only other interesting option I could think of was Los Sanduches Hogarama, also on the Plaza Grande.

This place is in the perfect location: the Plaza Grande.

It was so crowded here that this was the best shot I could get of the sandwiches -- even my own.

This place was filled with customers eating there and taking their food outside. I ended up ordering a lomo de cerdo ahumado y queso, or smoked pork loin and cheese ($4.70), and a blackberry soda (a South American Pepsi product, apparently). It doesn’t look very appetizing in my photo – it’s hard to take photographs of food in very crowded eateries, especially knowing that everyone’s watching me and wondering what the hell I’m photographing a sandwich for – but it was very good. The quality of the pork loin and cheese was excellent, and there was an excellent yellow cream sauce that tasted slightly like oregano.

My sandwich was much, much better than it looks in this photo. Oh, and I won a free drink according to my bottle cap! Whoo! Too bad I forgot and threw it away...

Los Sanduches Hogarama is located at Oe4-36 Chile Street in the Plaza Arzobispal.

Ecuador, Day 3

What is it with car alarms in South America? Not for the first time over the last two weeks, I was awakened in the middle of the night by a car alarm. But this wasn’t your normal car alarm – this was a mechanical screeching (as I’ve typed these first lines to this entry, two separate car alarms have gone off) that started at 3:45 a.m. and lasted for at least ten minutes. I couldn’t get back to sleep after that, so I progressed through the day with minimal rest. Oh well. You win some and you lose some.

I left my hotel at around 7:45 this morning to catch the Mercado Central’s 8 a.m. opening. I got there just as it was opening, which probably explains why many of the displays were lacking in merchandise. The majority of people at the market were there for breakfast, and from what I could tell, nearly half of the market, which covers two floors, was devoted to food stalls. (Another car alarm went off just now.)

It took me a while to find this place.

I felt a little uncomfortable taking photos here, largely because people there were staring at me – was it because I’m a foreigner or because I’ve got a camera slung around my neck? – so I didn’t overdo the shots.

Lots of juice options for your morning dose of vitamins.

Colorful veggies.

Potatoes, potatoes, potatoes.

Not exactly an overwhelming selection of fish.

Mmm, pig parts.

In the end, I decided to have breakfast here. I found a small stall specializing in four types of food – encebollado mixto (mixed onions), corvina frita (fried sea bass), ceviche de concha or camaron (conch or shrimp ceviche), and pescado frito (fried whole fish) – and went with the corvina frita (though maybe I should have gone with conch ceviche).

That's Gloria, apparently, in the lavender smock.

The order came up immediately and was brought to me at a small table in the dining area. I was given a huge piece of fried sea bass, rice, and fried potatoes, as well as a bowl of fried plantain chips and popcorn, and a bowl of something that tasted like onion soup. I didn’t eat the soup because it was too oniony and I worried about the water that had been used to make it, but the fried sea bass was fantastic.

This is not my typical breakfast, but it was good.

It had a nice crisp coating with tender white meat beneath, and there were virtually no bones, which is always a plus. (Another car alarm just went off.) I was surprised by the popcorn, which I didn’t really want, but tried a piece anyway. It was popcorn, what can I say? I couldn’t eat it on top of everything else, especially so early in the morning, and besides, the fish, rice, and fried potatoes totally filled me up. The cost of my meal was $2, which seems pretty reasonable to me.

El Mercado Central is located between Manabi and Esmeraldas on Avenida Pichincha. It’s opens every day 8 a.m. – 4 p.m., except Sundays when it closes at 3 p.m.

At around 9:30 I decided to hit another museum, El Museo del Banco Central, which is purported to be Quito’s best. I took a taxi from the Old Town (El Centro), where I’m staying, to the New Town, which is Quito’s urban center. My driver dropped me off at El Banco Central, which compelled me to ask if the Museo del Banco Central is located within El Banco Central. He said, “Yes, it’s on the second floor,” so I paid him and got out. However, once I passed through security and got inside, it became clear to me that this was in fact just a bank. I approached one of the security guards there and asked where I could find the Museo del Banco Central, and he pointed vaguely in one direction and told me it’s about fifteen minutes away. He wrote, “La Casa de la Cultura” on a piece of paper and told me that that was where I wanted to go. I thanked him and started walking. But the road quickly forked, so I stopped again and asked a woman on the street. She pointed back in the direction of the bank I’d just left, so my next question to her was, “Where is La Casa de la Cultura?” She pointed me in the direction I’d been walking, so I continued another five minutes until the road forked again.

Live music -- really good live music -- on my walk to the museum.

This time I asked a group of students who were hanging outside their building, and I got mixed information. Finally, one of them shouted over the others that it was only five minutes more in the direction I was walking, so I figured I might as well go on. I finally found La Casa de la Cultura and asked a woman inside where the entrance to the museum was.

Finally, I found my way.

It took me another ten minutes to find the entrance, by which time I was exhausted and seriously thirsty. I decided to go inside and see what the museum had to offer. The nice thing about this museum is that it’s organized very well – chronologically sometimes, by region and ethnic group at other times – and it had excellent explanations in Spanish and English. But it’s also quite small, and the colonial paintings and figures on display were less impressive that what I’d seen at the Agustín Monastery. There were contemporary paintings, too, some of which were quite interesting – the portraits of Ecuadorian Indians were most interesting to me. The ceramics, too, were first-class and I could have spent a lot more time looking at them had I not been so thirsty.

I nearly died trying to find this place.

The museum can be found at Patria Avenue (between 5 de Diciembre and 12 de Octubre Streets). Tel: 222-3258 or 222-3259. Web: www.museobibliotecabce.com. Admission is $2 for adults. Open Tuesday through Friday, 9 a.m. - 5 p.m., and on weekends and public holidays from 10 a.m. – 4 p.m. Closed on Holy Friday, Christmas, and New Year’s Day.

From there I decided to leave New Town and see what Mariscal Sucre had to offer. I noticed in my guidebook that there was a Vietnamese restaurant called Uncle Ho’s, and I thought this might be worth checking out. I took another taxi there, and as soon as we hit Mariscal Sucre I shuddered. For those of you who know Khao San in Bangkok or Pham Ngu Lao in Saigon, it’s basically Quito’s equivalent of those backpacker areas. I’m sure Mariscal Sucre offers more than just backpacker hangouts, but that was the impression I got. I have no idea why travelers would choose to base themselves here rather than in the Old Town, which offers so much, unless it’s just to party and generally not worry about leaving their comfort zones. But whatever. To each his or her own.

But my rant doesn’t end here. I was wondering about the name of the restaurant – most Vietnamese living overseas wouldn’t dare name their restaurant after Ho Chi Minh (or paint Ho Chi Minh’s face on one wall of the restaurant) – so I thought there was probably an interesting story behind this.

This was weird to see in a Vietnamese restaurant. Then again, I wouldn't call it a Vietnamese restaurant. My kitchen at home is far more of a Vietnamese restaurant than this place.

As soon as I got there I saw that there were no Vietnamese people anywhere – just Ecuadorian cooks and waitresses and a handful of Western backpackers.

Popular backpacker area.

When I sat down and saw the menu, I decided immediately to try pho bo. Since Ecuador has many of the ingredients that one can find in Vietnam, I thought there was a decent chance of getting authentic pho. However, when it arrived I immediately wanted to push it back. Where were the sprouts? Where was the lemon leaf? Where was the mint and basil? What was that brown gunk crusted around the side of the bowl, and what were those other vegetables doing floating around in the muck that tried to pass itself off as broth? And my god, how could this cost $7??

For all you pho-lovers out there, does this look appetizing?

My first bite told me that my initial reaction was well founded. The broth was merely lukewarm and tasted like beef broth flavored with steak seasoning. The beef pieces were thick and impossible to chew, and the noodles weren’t like any pho noodles I’d ever seen before – plus they hardly put any noodles at all in the bowl. The combination of vegetables – red and orange peppers and raw red onion – didn’t work well here. In short, it was horrible. And again, the $7 pricetag made it a rip-off.

You've got to be kidding me.

They did a fine enough job with the Vietnamese coffee – it was about as good as you’d get in the U.S., which, as I’ve said elsewhere on my blog, isn’t particularly authentic.

I'll give them credit for the coffee...just barely.

The owner is apparently an Aussie, and his workers are all Ecuadorian. As I left, unable to get the owner’s attention, I imagined that this was a good business idea for him – he filled a niche in a well-trafficked backpacker area – but seriously, this places needs to learn what pho is. This was like a hodgepodge of whatever they happened to have lying around their kitchen. No offense to the cook – I’m sure he’s excellent and that he did what he was told to do.

Uncle Ho’s is located at 166-E8-29 José Calama Street (near the corner of Diego de Almagro Street). Tel: (02) 603-4954. I don’t recommend their Vietnamese menu, but their Ecuadorian menu items might be fine. Still, I’d avoid Mariscal Sucre since the Old Town’s nearby and is a much better option overall.

This evening I did my usual thing – wander around town, starting at the Plaza Grande to see what’s happening (I was told there’d be a jazz concert, but it didn’t happen), and look for somewhere to eat dinner.

Where's the jazz concert?

If only I needed more books...

I hadn’t realized it, but the skies were about to open up and unleash a downpour, complete with thunder and lightning. Luckily I’d found my way to a restaurant called Don Pancho, which specializes in chicken dishes of all types.

I sat there for five minutes watching the chicken turn round...and round...and round.

I beat the rain getting here, but not returning to my hotel.

Not wanting anything very heavy, I ended up choosing caldo de gallina ($2.50), which is a soup containing a large hunk of cooked chicken, cooked potatoes, green onions, dill, and carrots. I’ve had variations of this before, but not this dish specifically. It was better than I expected, and I was already expecting it to hit the spot in a big way.

They were out of beer, so I had a vaso de cola with my soup.

The chicken was perfectly cooked, the soup wasn’t too salty, and the only trouble I had eating it was spooning the meat off the bone without splashing the soup all over myself (I’m proud to say it only happened once).

Some nice li'l bits in that spoonful plus a hunk of chicken underneath.

The location of Don Pancho is a bit off the Old Town’s main roads, but it’s worth climbing the extra block or two from La Merced Church at Chile and Cuenca streets. You can find Don Pancho on the corner of Chile and Imbabura. It’s a good place to get take-out, too.

Tomorrow I head to Otavalo for two nights, and then I’m back in Quito for another night before hitting Cuenca, Guayaquil, and the Galapagos. I’m not sure that I’ll have daily access to the Internet during this time, but I should – at least until I get to the Galapagos.