I gazed out of the bus window at the soft rolling hills and jagged mountain peaks. Just an hour from Quito and I was already leaving the frenetic city behind, inhaling the crisp, fresh air from outside. I have nothing against cities - they're where the people are, the ideas, the museums and endless inspiration - yet I'm inherently a nature lover, and get my energy from the great outdoors.
Views from the bus window
I'd been in Ecuador for a month already, doing my ESL teacher training, and I was now taking off alone to explore some of the Andes. The mountains had been beckoning me ever since I'd landed, and that morning was the morning. I rose early as the pale lavender dawn light filtered through the windows of my dorm room. I'd packed my bag the night before, hugged my course mates goodbye and was prepared for my onward travel. I shivered a little as I closed the front door and stepped onto the cold street, the city already alive with commuters, street sellers and beeping buses. I checked the time, I was fine. I planned a detour to my favourite indoor food market cafe for breakfast before catching my bus. I greeted Ana, the smiling jefa, and sat at a shared table that looked out to the bustling market. Ordering my usual of coffee, tomate de arbol juice and a bolón de verde I scanned the scene. Spending time in food markets is one of my favourite things to do when traveling. It's the perfect way to meet the people, learn the language and taste the culture.
My usual breakfast at the market
The artist in me loves to study the cascading piles of exotic fruits and vegetables, marveling at the array of potatoes on offer - what colours and shapes! In the land of their origin it's no surprise that the extensive variety of heritage potatoes here is astounding. The heart and soul of a market is so intertwined with the heart and soul of the country. It's etched into the face of the sellers here, the soft smiles and chatter of the customer as they roll a mango in their palm, deciding which to buy.
I snap out of my reverie when my food arrives. Thanking Ana, I dig into my bolón de verde with gusto, savouring it. This green plantain dumpling is warm and crunchy, stuffed with melted cheese and chicharron. I eat mine with dashings of hot sauce and washed down with sweet black coffee. Fully satiated, I'm ready for my day.
I spend the whole two hour bus journey with my face pressed against the window, awestruck. Coming from England, a comparatively flat country, seeing this wild, untamed nature and high, endless mountain ranges amazes me. The road is full of twists and turns, the bus driver clearly unphased as he expertly traverses the tiny mountain roads.
Stepping off the bus on the main drag of Mindo, I sling my backpack onto my shoulder and look around the small town. You could see the whole span of the high street from top to bottom, this place seem manageably tiny after my time in the capital. I set off in search of somewhere to stay, finding myself following signs for a tree house hostel along a dirt track, walking east out of the town.
Arriving at the hostel I'm instantly won over. The wonky charm of the wooden tree houses and the option to stay in a hammock for $3 convinced me. I lay down for an afternoon nap watching emerald blue hummingbirds and Barbet toucans flit from tree to tree. The gardens were teeming with bird life, and this open-sided treehouse was the perfect hide to spot them from!
Spotted from the tree house
The next morning I woke feeling fresh and rested, having spent the evening playing cards with fellow hostel guests and falling asleep before 8pm! It had rained during the night and the whole landscape was shrouded by low hanging cloud. Rainy season was optimal timing for sighting migratory birds but meant that you had to be ready for grizzly weather. I started to pack my day pack for my hike. Raincoat, check. Binoculars, check. First aid kit, check. I planned to get some supplies for a picnic and pick up some mosquito repellent as i was getting mildly harassed by the buzzing creatures.
I was headed for the Mindo-Nambillo protected cloud forest for a five hour round hike. This would be my first proper hike of my year in Latin America, and I was yet to see if I was physically prepared. I had my map in hand and had planned the route with help from a friendly guy on reception at my hostel. I stopped at a fruit stand on the way, loading up greedily with guavas, guayabas and granadillas. I already had an ample supply of bananas, crisps and a paper bag of llapingachos (fried potato cakes) leftover from last nights' dinner.
There's something quite special about waking up early. The air feels cooler, the sounds clearer. Anyone you pass on the street seems somehow calmer and more peaceful, exchanging quiet smiles. This morning was no different as I made my way to the national park. As I crossed a bridge going out of town I gazed down at the rushing river, spotting a huge blue butterfly in the process and I pulled out my camera. This place was teeming with wildlife!
I was already quite sweaty by the time I reached the Tarabita Cable Car, which would take me into the cloud forest. My sweatiness wasn't helped by the fact that my bag weighed a ton, I had four litres of water in there! I paid my ticket and gazed down at the treetops as we careered above miles and miles of cloud forest in the creaking yellow cable car. After a short ride of just 530 metres, we'd arrived. The morning clouds had cleared making way for sunshine which beat down on me, as the sun only can at the equator, despite my long shirt and hat. Pulling my backpack onto my shoulders I thanked the guy who was controlling the cable cars and set off into the damp and verdant forest.
