Inside the Basilica del Voto Nacional.
Hi everyone, not really much to say for my first day but I wanted to let the worriers know that after an all nighter last night and about 15 hours of sleeping on planes and airports I made it here safely. I should have some stories soon and the free internet here in the hostel has camera card slots so I should be able to upload some pics soon. Stay tuned...
I spent the day roaming through old town Quito. It reminds me of Havana Cuba but cleaner. As expected the architecture is all Spanish colonial. Bright coloured concrete buildings extend through the entire valley and up the sides of the forested mountains some of which are volcanoes.
The people here are tiny.
Quito from the hill top
I didn’t really notice until I went to sit down at lunch. The chairs were about 18 in high. I looked around and they seemed to fit everyone else but my knees were almost at my chest. The indigenous people are especially short. I saw many more people under 4 ½ feet than I did taller than me. Once I noticed it seemed like everywhere I looked everything is Maxy sized.
Tonight I am heading to Mariscal in new town to check out the night life. Lonely planet describes it as • the line between bar and dance club is blurry indeed. Bars in Mariscal, for better or worse are generally raucous and notorious for gringo hunting, when locals of both sexes flirt it up with the tourists. Dancing on bar tops is generally de rigueur… Should be interesting.
I met up with Lydia, a British TravBuddy taking Spanish and volunteering in Ecuador until March.
We had a great time in Gringoland but contrary to the reports we saw very few tourists. The music of choice seemed to be salsa although they played more techno but the locals didn´t really get jiggy with it. Just a lot of people doing the shuffle. We had a great time and I had a hard time keeping up with Lydia´s boozing abilities.
I couldn´t believe how much different new town was from new town. Examples: when I left my hostel this morning in old town I saw a man milking his four goats on the corner of a busy intersection and his three year old daughter was drinking the warm milk right there, somehow this did not seem out of place. In new town I met Lydia at Papaya net where they served imported beers to locals wearing modern North American attire with familiar tunes like Nelly Furtado playing in the background.
