Yeah. I could live here.

A brief rant of frustration any writer can relate to: losing your work...
I love blogger for many reasons. Being able to save offline, auto-saving, etc. But why go through that trouble dear blogger if you are going to freeze when I add too many photos, and then never let me access that post again?! Okay, rant over. Also I wanted to include that as a semi-excuse for blogs coming in much after our adventures and our lack of photos of recent, plus we have not had steady wifi connections and taking the entire time at an internet cafe only to write the blog seems touch when we can (sort of) write it from the comforts of our hostel, cabin, cabana, apartment, or wherever we are writing from.

Back to the adventures!!

Arrival in Argentina: After many hours of busses, we get to family for the holidays. It is wonderful. We are loving our time together and have extended it.
Ups and downs with finding a farm in this gorgeous area, but we have settled in and are making the best of it, as adventurers do. The graciousness of family has allowed us to relax in a house in a small town called Lago Puelo.
Previously, we were in Bariloche, the largest ski town in Argentina we hear. Ski season is over, but snowy mountain tops can still be seen across windy lakes. I ventured out on Christmas night after feasting for days (Winter Solstice through Christmas), smelling of garlic, red wine, and pasta, and decided to begin my burning off some of the thousands of consumed calories from the past, oh, hour or so. Bariloche is known for their chocolate shops which can be attributed to their Suisse founders. We took full advantage of this and devoured chocolate fondue, dulce de leche chocolates, chocolate covered orange peels, and all sorts of holiday goodies. I can also thank the founders for the architecture that I fell in love with. While snapping shots on this walk, my phone camera died. Sigh. More technology bites the dust on our journey. Let's hope a few devices hold up. (I'll work to post from the phone when I can. WiFi access is only a short walk from where we are staying now.)
In addition to the Suisse style cottages with steep sloping roofs, everyone seems to have amazing woodwork, even on the most modest of homes. Beautifully finished wood that isn't an eyesore because it keeps the integrity of it's natural shape is hidden amongst evergreens in quaint neighborhoods. Stonewalled structures, one in particular that had been abandoned and graffiti artists had taken over with carefully detailed drawings, are nearly missed due to the mountainside rising up behind it. Rock earth desperately tries to break through the green that takes over until you reach treeline and the rock appears to have succeeded. Brightness and stillness surround me, but it isn't quite quiet. The sounds of children old and young playing Christmas night futbol in the street can be heard and I can hear the imagined crowds cheering as three of them yell that a goal has been scored.  A solo star hangs near the moon as if it were a fly waiting to be swatted away by an irritated tail. All is right in the world. Yeah. I could live here.

~B

Three Borders in Three Days: Life on a Bus

Depart Valladolid, Ecuador on Wednesday at 6pm. Much later in the day than we expected due to delays of busses because of construction. Arrive in Zumba, Ecuador, last major town before the Peruvian border around 9:30pm. A sleepy town at that time of night where no taxis are waiting at the small bus terminal. We hoof it to town and locate a hostal with the help of a taxi passing by that charges us full fare for half the amount of a ride (I discovered this the next morning). A short, and mostly restless night's sleep and we are up at 6:30am to catch a combi-taxi to the border crossing. Combis are generally trucks that require a certain number of passengers before departure. With the help of some patient commuters, we loaded a pick-up and headed to the remote La Balsa fronterra, border crossing. It was fairly self explanatory, which it needed to be because there was hardly anyone there. Unlike any border crossing I had ever seen. There was no customs, no guards, just a wooden pole across the small bridge that led across the river to Peru. We entered the Ecuador offices and the guard was just waking up. He walked out shirtless to collect our information and give us our stamps.
We took the lead of a couple other people we had seen and showed ourselves across the bridge. On the other side we could barely locate the office with a small sign (animal control was the most apparent office) but at least someone was awake and willing to help us fill out our forms. However we had to go to another building, obtain a stamp, and then head back. I was realizing how remote of a border crossing this really was and not common for foreigners to cross here. The main crossings are located along the coast or to the east into the Amazon. We boarded a colectivo, mini-van, with 9 adults, a baby and a young child, and headed to San Ignacio, our next largest town about 2 hours west. Immediately I thought I could see the economic differences as we drove along smooth paved roads, the first we had seen in day it seemed, but that lasted all of about 8 miles and we were back to bumpy, winding roads plagued with construction that had us stopping every 15 minutes or so.
Our driver was kind enough to take us to a bank and show us to the next colectivo, probably after seeing the distressed look on my face when we pulled into a dirt lot with no busses, only taxis and vans. I figured we must just be at another small stop, but then he started unloading our bags. Our next ride we managed to pack 17 adults, a baby, and a chicken onto the van. I started taking advantage of the vendors who come up to windows and onto busses selling their fruits, candy, snacks. It is likely the only way to ensure getting food on long drives and while bus hopping. I also discovered my true love of chickens and babies. Okay, this had probably been brewing for some time, but I seriously am fascinated with both creatures.
Our arrival in Jaen a few hours later brought another fun form of transportation, a moto-car...basically a rickshaw attached to the back of a motorcycle. The fumes and dust were less than pleasant, but zipping around with hundreds of these on the road was super fun. There were hardly any other cars on the road in this town. They remaianed fairly visible in small towns throughout much of northern Peru. We weren't exactly sure of what our next move was. Get to the bus station and see what busses were being offered at that time of day. It was nearly 3pm on Thursday and it was looking slim. We had missed our bus connecting to the next major town, but as our moto-car pulled up, there was an overnight bus departing for Lima, some 19 hours from Jaen. We took a risk and boarded with luckily just enough cash to pay for the ride.
In the hopes of making it to Argentina to meet up with family for the holidays we had considered the option of overnight busses, but just in case, I had spent hours shuffling through our guide book looking for stops along the way, hostals in which to stay, and alternative routes through three countries. The overnight experience to Lima wasn't awful, I imagined that if my dream of being a touring musician had ever panned out, it would have been a way of life to sleep, eat, and write on busses. Huge bonus that they brought us a tasty boxed dinner. I was imagining that I only had junk food and fruit for the next day.
I watched the landscape change from green rolling hills with fast rushing brown rivers, to brown rocky mountains breaking through, back to flat green farmland. The sunset's pink puffy clouds set the backdrop for mountains to drift into the darkness of night. I couldn't tell one apart from the other at times. I let my mind wander as my eyes passed over the changing formations until I drifted off to sleep. Babies crying (19 hours on a bus, I can't even imagine...) and old Latin American musical on the television woke me up early. We arrived in Lima due to get off at a stop called Ventanilla, a dusty stop on the far end of town (because I thought the man at the ticket counter wanted to know if I wanted a window seat...) I managed to catch our driver to ask him where to go to catch our next bus and he took us to the last stop where there was a proper bus station almost resembling a small airport terminal.
Perhaps we were in a daze from travel, or just really excited that the first ride was basically smooth, but we decided to keep on the distance busses (saved money on food and lodging at least) and booked a bus to Santiago where we paid in advance to get to Mendoza. It was quite a bit more expensive than we had bargained for...but considering that it is two border crossings, three countries, and who knows how many hours....we will total at some point, it seemed worth it. We could have maybe saved money shopping around to different bus companies, but they are located all over Lima and this was simple, quick and everyone we encountered was super friendly and helpful. An hour later, some fast food for good measure, and a stroll through the mall (complete with Christmas music, all the decor, consumerism, and comforts of home) and we were back on our butts for the next leg of our trip.
It has been non-stop traveling and everything turned cold overnight as we passed through throngs of very rocky mountains. I slept well until the tight turns and rocking bus woke me up around 2am. I'm not exactly sure if I got much sleep after that. Madagascar 3 was totally a highlight of my evening. It might be more hilarious in Spanish, although I haven't seen it in English. Totally had the 5 year-old inside of me giggling up a storm.

The Farm Kitchen

http://instagr.am/p/TZipODCkRV/

Learned to make comfrey tea (for fertilizing, not drinking), Punto sugarcane moonshine (for drinking, not fertilizing), Amazonian secret (cloves) bug repellent, simple Spanish (Canary style) tortilla, rain water filtration systems, naranjilla and sweet lemon/ sour orange agua jugos, and much more!!

There's something in the water...and other murmurings

Water has been the topic of many a conversations since we arrived in Ecuador. First, in Quito upon arrival it was stressed for foreigners not drink the water due to our bodies not being able to process naturally occurring elements that may be found in it. In fact, it was recommended to not even brush our teeth with it. We were told by every local that the water system has been completely refined in recent years and it was perfectly safe to not only brush our teeth but also to drink. "Europeans have been know to fall sick after drinking it, but Americans should be just fine...and its usually all in their heads..."
Teeth brushing has not caused me any issues, but I continued to buy gallons of water from the supermercado. Once on the farm I will start to use my super fancy water filtration system.

Vilcabamba, the valley of longevity, is a haven for people from all walks of life from numerous countries who are looking for answers. Many foreigners pass through for organic and natural remedies that are much less expensive than can be found elsewhere, and of course, the water is clean to drink and has healig properties.  Yesterday, I met Jim from North Carolina. He is accompanying his wife who was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer and her 90 year old father who has Alzheimer's. I have met quite a few people who came for similar reasons but then decided to stay, open their own "practice" (my mother and I were recently discussing people who open practices and make a living being an expert but do not have any official type of degree in the area for which they have become an expert... is this the new self-educated group of people who will lead us forward? Isn't this how information was previously disseminated amongst healers, shaman, spiritual leaders? Are they any more or less qualified than someone who has numerous framed degrees in a sterile office with expensive furniture?) and any of these people live happily here for sometime. Others do not.
Last night, a traveler friend, Natalie, and I ventured off to an all night outdoor music festival. We were briefly sidetracked in the center of town by a very loud, boisterous, impromptu celebration that was taking place to commemorate the win of a football (soccer, of course) championship. Lots of dancing and drinking in the main square of town (population of Vilcabamba and surrounding areas is only about 4000, and probably 300 people were out in the streets). We brought a flier with us telling the party's location and had a taxi driver take us up about a 15 minute drive from town. The driver told us that it would be too late to come back to pick us up but it was probably only a 45 minute walk back and it was very safe. Again, I'm thinking about my mother and how at this point she is gasping that I could even consider walking back in the middle of the night...
We went out of sheer curiosity. How do the people who have moved here from all parts of the world to drink this magical healing water party it up on a Saturday night? There seemed to be an interesting lineup of bands with names like "Vilkabanda," clearly some gringo creation, I thought judgingly, but I was correct. Mostly reggae beats and rhythms, the bands that we saw were transplants to the area, like many of the people that we met there.
I was somewhat surprised as we departed about the types of interactions that we discussed. There is clearly a utopian vibe. Travelers who came here for a week and stayed for a year, or seven. Children who have been raised here for most of their lives that now openly, at nine years old, invite their mother to come "smoke weed." Oh no, of course the little one doesn't smoke, says his much older wiser thirteen year old brother who may have caught my slightly surprised glance as we walked by. Also being passed around was San Pedro, the hallucinogenic cactus juice.
The intoxicated guests, one in particular from Australia, did little to hide their disdain about the United States. Lazy, loud, rude, pompous egotistical- that's how all Americans are, she says. She has been living away from Australia traveling for about 10 years, and was originally born in Johannesburg, so she really doesn't feel like she belongs anywhere. I struggled with wanting to wage an all out war then and there about how rude, loud and egotistical she was being by saying things to someone who is from there and we can't help where we were born, and learning and experiencing was precisely the point of our travels, but I smiled, asked questions and eventually found some common ground when we began talking about working the earth. Not everyone here is so Zen that they have let go of judging one another. As I glanced around I noticed that this gathering of 75 or so people did appear rather cliquey and perhaps this woman felt not only the political tensions that many feel about the US, but also she seemed to have some very specific personal issues. I can imagine in a place where people come for a visit, get stuck, and are in a small community, that some amount of drama could take place...and that became more apparent as we decided to head home. We were accompanied part way down the road by a friend, Juan, from Spain who left his house three months ago for just one week and hasn't returned since. Juan is likely close to 50 years old and was having his own little experiment with San Pedro, which w decided was not like peyote, but must be an experience something similar. I was happy to see Juan this afternoon back at the ecolodge where I first met him. He survived his adventurous evening, deciding that perhaps he had ingested a bit too much of the cactus juice. He said that he awoke feeling guilty, because not all of the people had really been kind to him at the gathering. Here he was opening his mind to the universe and some people were poking fun. He came back in one piece which was reassuring.
Vilcabamba is amazingly gorgeous, scenic, peaceful. But I remain a bit sceptical for any place that has this much hype. I truly believe it is a magical place full of pure water and beneficial energy, but if I needed to be sold on something, and lectured to while trying to get a morning smoothie and coffee, I would attend a new age expo and sit through demonstrations. I have experienced euphoria when climbing mountains, seeing mystical spiritual places, and having amazing connections with loved ones, but I do not need to be told by every person that I meet that I will find myself here, that there is something more magical here than any other place on earth. I suppose I feel like I need to experience all things for myself, not take someone else's word for it. That is why religion has had such an interesting place in my life. I need to experience it for myself, not base my decisions on anyone else's perceptions. There are meaningful connections to be made all over the world and I will find them everywhere I go, regardless of what is or is not in the water. I am in no way cynical about this situation, in fact, I feel quite enlightened.

Prior to coming to Vilcabamba we spent an unexpected week in Cuenca. We intentionally went there for the first night, but found that the city seemed to offer so much more with it's colonial architecture, thriving cultural experiences, museums, music, and food, that we stayed a second night. And then one more. By the following day, Ameen wasn't feeling well and had a slight temperature. So he rested and I explored the city. This went on for another full day before we decided that a hospital visit was necessary. His fever was nearly 103 F and he was clearly weak and in pain. The manager at the hostal we were staying, Veronica, who was from Ecuador but spoke wonderful English, accompanied us to the nearby military hospital. She was such a saviour for the experience. We were there for nearly 5 hours of Ameen getting first a shot of some sort to reduce the fever, then hooked up to an IV for rehydration and antibiotic doses, followed by a blood sample to determine what exactly was wrong with him. It was an intestinal infection they concluded. I'm still not exactly sure what that is, or how he contracted it but it seems to be bacterial. After two full days on the antibiotics, he is still a bit weak, but is hopefully recovering.
On the last night in Cuenca, Veronica invited us to attend the final film at the Cuenca Film Festival, entitled Yakuaya, about the spirit of water (fits nicely with the theme of this post). It was a documentary style film produced and directed by Ecuadorians. Five years in the making, it featured Ecuadorians from all parts of the country and the effects that water has on them. A particularly beautiful scene followed a farmer leading his sheep to a river, and then back to the farm where he chooses one to take to market. They make the long trek to the market which followed the same winding roads we have become accustomed to, and likely took hours for them to reach. We see the farmer stand with the sheep and no offers are made. He makes the long trek back to the farm and slaughters the sheep. The water washes away the sheep's blood into the same river it was drinking from earlier that day.

We spent the week of American Thanksgiving in Ba~nos (still can't get my keyboard to make those correctly). It is a beautiful town known for it's hot springs (melts away pains), cane sugar taffy (that I just cracked open today and cannot stop snacking on) , and cascadas (waterfalls). On Thanksgiving day, we met up with a great group of travelers to repel down those waterfalls! Our guide was full of energy and laughs and educational experiences for us. The pictures tell that story. The adrenaline rushes of clambering up hillsides just to repel, zipline, or slide down these waterfalls was totally an awesome experience and I wouldn't hesitate to do it again or recommend it to anyone! That weekend we met up with the Scottons again and toured the waterfalls from the comfort of an open-air chiva bus. It was wonderful to have that time with family. I feel so fortunate that we are all able to be here at the same time. I can't wait to share and learn about the adventures that occur before we see them next.

First thing (6am) tomorrow morning, we head to our first farm about 50 kilometers from the Peruvian border. Until then sending love and light to those in need from this vortex of powerful energy.

Sights, Sounds, Smells

Desperate to evacuate the city life, we fled for the mountains. After a restful (mostly) period in Latacunga, Ameen and I set out for our first major hike, the Quilotoa loop. This three plus day excursion is not recommended for the faint of heart, Mickey D's guzzlin, new to altitudes freshy. For some silly reason we thought that after less than one week at Quito's 9K feet, we were ready to take it on. Back to that bit about it not being an adventure until everything goes wrong (or not as expected). Yeah, for really though. It's traveling in a foreign country with a language barrier. So of course, adventurers we are. Nothing is going to go as expected!
We had visions of grandeur about hiking through the mountains and camping overnight next to farms...until I spoke with Phil, the Aussie at the front desk of Hostal Tiana in Latacunga. He provided us with a seemingly reliable map that was accompanied by paragraphs describing trails from one town to the next, three full hiking days of trails total, to finally reach the climax of 14K feet at Quilotoa Laguna, a lake inside a crater. We were psyched. Then he broke the news that it would be bitter cold and we would not want to carry much more than xxkg (equivalent of somewhere less than 20 pounds or so) because the hike was grueling and he does bits of it once a week to stay fresh. So we ditched our gear at the storage room of the hostal and headed off.

Sights: A winding mountain road takes us up, up, up into small town after small town. A group of school children board the packed bus and cram into the aisle way. A super cute, youngish 6 year old girl makes herself comfy on a padded cushion (not really a seat) in front of our seats near the driver and starts to nod off. This bus essentially doubles as a school bus, presumably if the parents can afford to give their kids bus fare. Probably about 20 cents for their ride from the school to their houses where they are dropped off right in front. Chinatown busses and their random stops have nothing on busses in Ecuador so far. Seriously middle of nowhere, no explanation pickups and dropoffs for all non-Gringos. Middle school children acting the way they do worldwide, cram together to flirt, hit, pull hair, and tease. Ameen had a face-full of elbows, butts, and some popsicle dripped on his arm. There was definitely more room for them to move on back and out of our personal space, but that matters little culturally both based on norms and general age of middle schoolers.

Sounds: This busses brakes didn't sound too screechy, to which I was relieved. But I may have let out some awfully big sighs every time that we survived a close turn around the one lane mountain turns that the bus clung to while another car managed to pass around us all the while I'm imagining how I will possibly survive the crash...my personal version of worst-case scenario bus riding survival guide...holding on to seat I realized I was cushions, luggage racks, crawling through windows etc.

Smells: Arrival in Isinlivi, a small, dusty, farm town of probably not more than 150, but with two lovely hostals, side by side. Greeted at the town center by a lone woman cooking meats on a propane make-shift grill. I realized I was getting hungry and dug into the packed snacks to munch on candied nuts. Dust covered my face, but the air smelled so sweet and clean after being in smoggy cities, even large towns where taxis fill the streets and cars tend to not undergo rigorous emissions testing.

We chose the less expensive, newer hostal with a friendly host whom we tried desperately to understand. Politeness and smiles took us far here. Ameen napped, realizing that bus rides and altitude were not his best of friends, and I forced my way slowly up a small hill on the edge of town to scope out the scenery. Judging by my profusive sweatiness and panting, the hike the following day was going to be a serious chore. But I found a place of prayer (not exactly a church) at the top and took some time to play with photos and take it all in. Marching back down the hill, like it was nothing, I ran into a fellow traveler/ adventurer that was familiar looking from our hostal in Latacunga. Rachael was taking a weekend off from working on research for a fellowship in Quito (as well as 4 other sites across the world). She was the only other non-local besides Ameen and I in the town. It was mid-week and high traffic flow was focused on weekends. She asked if she could hike with us the following day.  I was secretly super excited to have a hiking buddy especially because I was feeling unsure of my ability to hike, the map that was provided (for good reason), and it's one of my favorite ways to get to know people and pass the time. I had previously learned bits and pieces about her eavesdropping at the hostal, and knew that if nothing else, she would have some good stories. And that she did.

Smells: Dinner was in the hosts house at a plastic table (think patio furniture) in a small room off the kitchen. It smelled wonderful and we were famished. Some interesting new typical foods some of which thrilled us, others not so much. Saints of familiar and foreign origin papered the walls in the forms of paintings, posters, and statues. Getting used to smells on farms is easy. Smells from other not so appealing areas, like foreign bathroom practices, not so much. And poor ventilation. Yes, I love the luxury of clean and proper restrooms. I have had many male roommates, and I am publicly forgiving and apologizing to you all for any bitching that occurred about the state of our restrooms. And apologies also for including this piece. It just hasn't gotten any easier as the trip settles in.

Sounds: Hike, Day 1 was hellacious. Spoiler: it was the only day we hiked. It kicked our asses. Every one of us was totally struggling at one point. After 6 hours of yelling across canyons to locals (thank mother earth that Rachael was conversational in Spanish) to clarify the sketchy directions we were attempting to follow and getting lots of "para abajo!!!" so we kept going down down down, and then back up, and around and over a rickety, creaky, suspension bridge because our unintentional "detour" forced us to miss the supposed log bridge, and interrupting cows that told us to go the wrong direction, and one sign along the entire trail (no markers mind you, and we were told there used to be more signs but locals take them down), we finally arrived in Chugchilan. Or so we thought and then 45 minutes of slow incline later we arrived in Chugchilan. Magical wonderland #2.

Sights: Looking out from Rachael's posh ecolodge, Black Sheep Inn (complete with pigs, chickens, yoga studio, hot tub...all ecofriendly, and kinda makeshift, mind you....we opted for cheap again), I knew I was in heaven. Or the thrill of getting my hiking boots off and the euphoric feeling that often accompanies a hike where you gain significant elevation had completely gone to my head. We wandered off to our hostal, ate what felt like the best simple meal of my life, made friends with a lovely couple, Carlos y Nathalie, who treated us to wine after dinner while we all played cards and drug Rachael over from her retreatland.

Pretty exhausted and sore the next morning, we watched dogs and children wander the street while we waited for a bus. I concluded that most of them had homes, the children for sure, the dogs at least had a stoop or yard to sleep in. The bus journey was winding, again. We stopped for construction vehicles to finish their work which only set us back an hour... while indulging in video games on our phones that don't have any service. Yes, totally super indulgent, we realize this and I am ashamed even as I write it. Our bus stopped long enough at our stop for me to realize the driver was not getting off to unload our luggage and for me to triple check the sign as we drove away from it before I stumbled to the front and managed to get a lo siento type of apology from the driver that he had forgotten about us. This was the beginning of the yuck feeling we had about the last leg of our trip. The first part, euphoric, even the brutal hike left us feeling fit and happy for new friends, but the second half was just off from the start.

Altitude, at our highest point, left us cranky. An unexpected entrance fee and a crumbling town with higher hostal prices than promised made us want to get right in to bed. The sunset was gorgeous and then the temps dropped. The hostal we settled on only turned on toilet flushing capabilities once after dinner...I much just prefer a pit toilet, ya know. Easier and you know what to expect. Cold set in and we piled on blankets and hoped the morning brought a better day. The famed Quilotoa Laguna was gorgeous and we stood in awe for 30 minutes or so but declined the 4-5 hour hike. We were seriously ready to move on.
The first friendly local in 15 hours helped us to arrange a pick-up to take us to the nearest town of Zumbahua to catch a bus back to Latacunga. I had some great insight with two guests at our hostal over breakfast about the state of the town, the politics of Ecuador in general, and the effects of tourism. Both were from The Netherlands, but the one woman's family was originally from Ecuador, so it was nice to have her insight. More on that once my brain recovers from this ramble.

From Latacunga we were off to Banos (having trouble converting the tablet to Spanish language transitions so absence of an ~n there). It is too wonderful of a place to not have it's own entry, and I swore I would get some actual sleep at some point tonight. Something that is quite difficult both at night and in teh morning and especially on weekends. Hoping that at some point we find a quieter place to sleep.

Briana

Exhausting

We hiked through much of what is behind Ameen. The trails from Isinlivi to Chugchilan.

Quenching the thirst

First of many fresh coconuts

Pomme de terre

Yes, wrong language for where I am, I know.

Pululahua Village/ Largest inhabited crater

Preparing to hike back out of it. More details about the trip to come.
-B

TeleferiQo

Sky tram to the top just as the daily fog rolled in.

Hostal Life

never trust the rutter on any boat or even the young man steering it

This is the eye opener for me as to what we will expect for the next several weeks and months as we use our legs, feet and sense of direction more than anything. I knew coming into this trip that we will be experiencing things no normal person would imagine doing. The trials of elevation, hunger, identifying where is where and how to get there. Mind you this is only day 3 and we haven't touched even a fraction of what we'll experience. Today we met up with Noelani, Mary and Gabriel at the Parque la Carolina, one of many parks in Quito, where we immediately paddle-boated with senor gabriel, grabbed some delicious grub and watched kids take on half pipes and skate bowls which fill a large section of the park(similar to what you would see in venice beach). I enjoyed a sugary fruit cup at one of the numerous food stands as my first course of the day which involved different tropical fruit pieces adorned with a nice thick dark red syrup with strawberries that just looked deathly, finally dolloped with a healthy dose of stiff whip cream that tasted like passion fruit juice had been folded in. But ofcourse, right!? At first, i wasn't sure if it was worth the $1 dolar but looking at the work that went into it all, at that point i didn't mind how small a portion or everlasting i wished it to be. I simply just wanted more. I have had this strange idea albeit my stubborn way to live off fruits, vegetables and grains on this trip. Not right away and certainly not excluding an occasional protein. I'm really just excited about the different fruits here, most of which i noticed later today as we ventured into a mega-max(a nod to Targets, Walmarts in the states). These large stores are not something that Ecuadorians, no, even most South Americans have really been accustomed to or had the convenience of such as us in North America. Not that i am in favor of them back home, but i respect that they exist here.

Anywho, the fruits and vegetables all look delicious. Like coffee and most chocolate, alot of the good stuff is imported strangely enough from a neighboring country. All an inkling of what to expect as we get closer to farms and the amazon. The highlight of today could have only been our quick drive up the mountains to TeleferiQo: a gondola set up that brings you high above the city of Quito through the puffy clouds and luscious green-scapes that cover the elevation and distract you from even thinking about height. Baby cattle wander the surroundings, locals passing by via horse back and you just scowering the dirt paths like there is nothing that can stop you(except maybe a few ominous dark clouds hovering and teasing). We got some good shots going up as the clouds were heading further into the city which gave us the notion to bet on taking the trek up to TeleferiQo today rather than another day. Sadly, we knew our voyage back down would be not as scenic. Nevertheless, an amazing experience i'll never let go and to be with family it was all the more worthwhile. A cool touristy section in between the gondola ticket office was a mini carnival equipped with tons of rides and a large arcade center. Pretty snazzy set up in the high peaks of the capital city of Ecuador, i must say. A great marketing scheme and wise move for families travelling with their kids.

Overall, Quito is a nice stop for anyone travelling or place to get your bearings straight if you're flying in as we did. It's something i discovered on my trip through Ireland with my Nana back in spring of 2007. Our first four days in the country was spent in Dublin. Most everyone knows or has an idea that it's a large city, but when you're actually there for majority of your trip or for awhile anyway, it gets to be overwhelming. More so than the hiking or excursionismo called here, that is the main part of this entry. I am and i will further enjoy the cities because of what they represent, but i can't possibly voice it or type here how badly excited i am to be heading south and further towards the jungle areas.

I have personally made contact with our first farm, in southern Ecuador, 50 miles near the Peruvian border past the city of Vilcabamba(perhaps the largest city nearby). The journey from here is a haul, but it's exactly where we want to be heading. The person who owns the farm is american or atleast seems to be with a name like, "Nurse Mike". One of many farms i contacted before we left Ohio. We will probably end up there at the end of the month as we follow the country south hitting some other well-known towns and cities including Lutucanga, Banos, Puyo, Cuenca, etc. I would like Bri and i to volunteer two weeks time there as it appears we are allowed to be there for as short as a week if we want to. It would give us enough time to really set ourselves into the farming realm of things, where the focus of this trip has honestly been. The schematics of getting to Vilcabamba seem easy and comforting enough and from there the farm is only about an hour walk. More details will follow as i officially implement this plan into our calendars, so stay tuned...

Until then, this week's itinerary looks to be quite a brave and rewarding of an experience. Tomorrow, we leave early towards Mitad del Mundo or otherwise known as the middle of the world where it was discovered and proven that the equatorial line existed, just north of Quito. I know i am looking forward to the museums there that display scientific demonstrations of water and energy and whatever else may be lurking around the city. We will stay overnight there and proceed back to our comforting hostal Secret Garden, Tuesday, to have one of our last meals in the capital city with Noelani and Mary. Later in the week is where we will venture away towards Lutucanga, a city that is an open door to the infamous Quilotoa Loop, a lake that sits in a crater surrounded by small villages, an a host to one of the most talked about and intense hikes in Ecuador(Markus and our other well known close avid hikers: if this doesn't turn you on, i don't know what would). For us to experience the whole test, it would take us atleast three days to span the whole crater. The views from what i've read and seen are tempting and captivating. I look forward to the draw of this trip that will mark our first real endurance and stamina levels. Rest assured, we are well-equipped for the journey ahead. Until then, keep your eyes open and your plantains ripefully peeled.

Bon Voyage-Ameen

currently listening to: Zola Jeus-Vessels-Conatus
                                     Chelsea Wolfe-Unknown Rooms: a collection of acoustic songs
                                     Gabrielle Aplin-e.p.
                                     Give-boots of faith-flowerhead

Jugos!!!

Best start to my morning. So many beautiful fruits to select from. The front bevvie was blackberry and guanabana.

Basílica

My favorite shot of the church

Arrivals-Quito, Ecuador

Patience, steady, observe, swirlswirlswirl

A little bit of what has gone on in my mind since arrival. Our flight was delayed coming out of JFK and we spent a night in Atlanta. I think it was a blessing actually because it allowed us time to relax and even for a serendipitous meeting with Mim Easton, a friend from back in New England.
When we finally arrived, a day later than expected, I was relieved that the customs and baggage situation were better than I expected. I was thoroughly prepared for lost bags (since we hadn't seem them in two days), a full search of all of my luggage and being bombarded as soon as I stepped in to the airport with culture shock. Luckily, none of these things happened.
I have heard from more than a few people that adventure begins when everything goes wrong. If I keep my expectations low, or better yet, not set many, I hope to keep the adventure flowing without getting too upset. I mean, what are these people wishing on me?? ;) Honestly, as long as both of us are in good health, we don't have a right or wrong idea of how things are supposed to go. Our agenda is loose and changes daily. We decide what to do based on how we are feeling when we wake up....however, this is only day two (remember that my friends and family who are already anxious for a blog posting. We are only just settled in).
We spent our first two nights in a far too expensive hotel, Rio Amazonas. It was convenient because we didn't get there until midnight and they were safe, secure, and accommodating. The showers were hot, the beds fairly comfortable, and it allowed us time to adjust to the area. We were right by Mariscal, which is a very lively, very touristy neighborhood. Since neither of us were in the mood for clubbing, the night life didn't really suit us, but the wide variety of over-priced food was nice.
We met up with Noelani, Mary, and Gabriel yesterday. They are staying with a family and taking Spanish classes for a month in Quito. They have activities with teachers from the school in the afternoons. Yesterday, Mary and Gabriel were opting out of the afternoon activity to ensure they were fresh for their expedition this morning to Cotopaxi, a volcano an hour or so outside of the city. Noelani invited Ameen and I to go on the afternoon tour to Old Town. It was great, especially because Noelani's teacher, Patty, acted as our tour guide. The Spanish is coming to me slowly, and we are both looking forward to being in a more structured class. Also coming slowly to me is my sense of direction. I expect I will get my bearings as soon as we are ready to leave. While in Old Town, we discovered The Secret Garden hostal. It is owned and operated by Australian-French-Ecuadorians. The vibe is laid back, backpackerish, with comfortable rooms, colorful murals on the walls, and friendly staff. The rooftop terrace/ veranda is easily my favorite, and seems to be popular among hostals in South America.
A few photos below. The first is a photo of the first restaurant we found that serves almuerzas, the smarter, more economical way to eat for around $3 or less/ person. The main meal is lunch and it consists typically of a stew or soup, a main course, and a small dessert. The second photo was our main course that day: roasted chicken with rice and pickled beets, tomatoes, and onions. Third photo is more food: jugos (some tropical juice) is also served with every meal. Fourth photo is a view of Quito from a very high point in the city. The name of which is totally eluding me right now, but I will follow-up with it. More photos will be posted from my phone soon.

Leaving Columbus

Waiting in downtown Columbus for our bus to NYC!!!
Couldn't leave without the Zissou adventurer hat...

Preparations

So many small details to figure out, work through, and solidify. I just figured out a final list of where and when we need to take our malaria meds. It is looking like we won't need to take nearly as much as my physician originally told me which is a relief because we aimed a little lower on the dosage that we ordered through the pharmacy due to the outrageous prices. I think we ended up getting 150 tablets for the two of us for $700. Still on the list of things to take care of: obtaining travel insurance, finishing spraying down our gear and clothing with permethrin, packing up our bags.
We got great news last night that The Scottons (Noelani, Mary, and Gabriel) have arrived safely in Quito. This made it all seem so much more real to me. We don't have any of our farms concretely secured. Many people have replied to us to get in touch closer to the date of travel. I'm planning to review the Ecuador list again today to see if we can get some responses from farms now that we are going to be there soon. We only had one or two responses from the original outreach we did and they were automated telling us that volunteers were no longer being accepted. Plenty of hostels to stay in inexpensively, parks to pitch a tent, and sites to see in the area while we get settled onto a new continent.
More to come as the excitement builds!

Beginnings

Every great adventure has a sure beginning, a back story that sets the tone for the upcoming events. Ours will of course have to be two-fold, and somewhere along the way it will meet up, come together, blossom and grow in to what it is today, or will become in the future.

Why South America?

• I'm not exactly certain where this all began for me. Sometime between living in Colorado and visits to Japan, circa 2007, a good friend sent me a travel book for South America. I was loosely planning to continue my travels (since I hadn't had a permanent home for a few months). That book stayed tucked away and moved from box to box while I made a home in New Hampshire. My thoughts didn't stray too far from my goals of travel although the destination changed often. 

Why farming?

• I think that for both Ameen and I our passion for farms and farming is very much based around our love of food. This is completely tied to how we met as well, while working for Black Trumpet Bistro in Portsmouth, NH. Ameen has spent the past 6 months working at Meadows Mirth Farm in Stratham, NH and has grown his love of farming as well as gaining innumerable experiences. 

tourist(s)

We're(Briana&I) are about to embark on an adventure of a lifetime with hopes that it is a graceful opening door to more destinations in our future. As we decide over the next several weeks where we decide to go first to explore, what farms we plan on tackling the beginning few months we are there, seeing and hanging out with family, one thing is for sure: We are headed to South America!

From what we already know, we will be developing a relationship status with Four beautiful countries on the western side of the Continent. Argentina, Chile, Peru, Ecuador. As i am(A.) thrilled to see all of them, there is just something that about Ecuador that pulls me away from everything and turns me on. Not just the Farms, but the surroundings, the history, the flora, fauna and wildlife. And most certainly the eats! But alas, I cannot discredit the other three amigos. They will hold their own with all the excitement and richness they bestow and behold. This introduction being short and quaint is just an inkling of more ideas, dreams, passions and goals, destinations to arrive in the many days to come. I look forward to sharing this not only with my significant lover but with anyone who appreciates the glorifying beauty in travel and culture. It's us grabbing life by the balls and saying WE ARE HERE! Until next time, happy sailing and eat well. ~A.