The South American Adventure

So here we are almost four months later, back in Buenos Aires having completed a full circle of South America. When we were last here, I was still finding my feet on this strange, new continent and yet now I feel bizarrely at home. Strange, because in a couple of day's time we'll be in our actual homes and there are very few similarities which can be drawn between the two.  

This thought sparked an idea! By comparing England and South America, I can both reflect on my time here and bring this final chapter to a close, highlighting what I've missed about home and what I will miss about South America when I'm finally back on British soil.

#1 English Restaurants vs. South American Street Food

In England we're lucky that we have access to all kinds of cuisines but what we're missing is the option of buying it from a food market. From arepas and tortillas, to tapiocas and buñuelos, the very best South American meals are found on the street. Nothing feels more authentic than sitting cross legged on a cobbled step gobbling down a meal you've seen cooked right in front of you. Though we may have the occasional market in England, it lacks the excitement found at South American food stalls because the meals are priced similarly to nearby restaurants. The beauty of South America's street food is that it's so cheap, you have the freedom to try all kinds of crazy looking dishes which invariably lead to some amazing discoveries. If you don't like a meal, you've lost a couple of pounds at most but the same cannot be said for our London equivalents. It's worth noting that whichever continent you're on, people will often try and warn you away from street food but unless you have a stomach which is lined with flower petals, you'll more than likely be absolutely fine.

#2 English Parties vs. South American Fiestas

I do love good old English nights out but they're a world away from the parties thrown throughout South America. Whereas we like to plan our festivities down to a tee, including which pair of heels will be most appropriate for which club, South Americans just chuck it all together in a spectacularly spontaneous way. Wherever there are people there's potential for a party, whether it be a beach, a city square or a random back street alleyway. Just add some music and the dancing begins! If you were to stop and ask a South American why they're celebrating they'd look at you like you're crazy; 'because we're alive of course!' If you asked the same of a Brit on a night out they'd look at you like you're crazy and down another jägerbomb. 

#3 English Landscapes vs. South American Scenery

South America is massive and so it only makes sense that it has every kind of scenery you could possibly imagine. However, imagining it simply isn't enough and most of it you truly have to see to believe. One country alone can be home to tropical beaches, snow capped mountains, baron deserts and the Amazon rainforest! It's really quite amazing how quickly the scenery can change and no matter how much ground we covered, we never grew bored of simply staring out into South American space. England has some beautiful areas but it lacks the huge variety which makes South America so exciting.

#4 English Solitude vs. South American Smiles 

We English keep ourselves to ourselves. Nobody wants to be that crazy person on the tube who strikes up conversation, even less so the poor soul who has to suffer sitting next to that crazy person. In South America it seems the opposite is true; you'd be mad not to speak to the person next to you. Language barrier? No problem. They'll tease a sentence out of you even if it takes them the entire thirty hour bus journey. As much as they interact with one another, we found locals to be twice as interested in us. They'd offer directions before we even realised we were lost and stop us in the most random places simply to ask where we're from. Initially we had our guards up: all these stories had convinced us that any attempt to speak with us would be some sort of distraction whilst their mate mugged our bags but we soon realised these people have a genuine interest in others around them. And why not? Virtually everyone we spoke to taught us something new and we were continually surprised by the people we'd then choose to return to for a second conversation. 

#5 English Prices vs. South American Pennies

Aside from Brazil and Chile, the countries we visited in South America were dirt cheap. This has obvious benefits but best of all was that it enabled us to try new things that we would never have been able to afford on the same budget in England. For example, we swam with wild dolphins, threw ourselves down a canyon and climbed a 6,000m mountain all for the equivalent of just a few pounds a time. I imagined that dealing with such small figures would devalue the money but quite the contrary! We were ecstatic each time we haggled hard and saved ourselves an almighty sixty pence because that additional sixty pence was not only a couple of coins, but three empanadas, a laundry service or an entire meal at the food market. I'm going to miss how far our money goes and our dedication to making every penny count. 

#6 English Graffiti vs. South American Street Art

Any spritz of colour in an English city is deemed to be vandalism whereas in South America, it is celebrated as art. As a result it's a beautiful and vibrant continent with every blank space a potential canvas for the latest innovative street art masterpiece. Almost every town and city we visited was filled with street murals and interesting, abstract statues, as though the entire area is one big art gallery. I understand there's a fine line between a masterpiece and a monstrosity but I can't help thinking England could do with a little lightening up. If we stopped chasing down every kid with a spray can we might give them time to develop their mindless graffiti into something a little more meaningful.

#7 English Long Journeys vs. South American Never-ending Journeys 

Having done some rough sums we've worked out that during our four months in South America we've spent over four hundred hours on buses. That's about two and a half weeks! The longest stint was our last where we did three overnight journeys in a row, from La Paz to Uyuni, Uyuni to Villazon and Villazon to Buenos Aires - a total of sixty two hours, without including the waiting time inbetween. If we were to drive for this long in England we'd end up half way to Africa! It's hilarious to me now that I used to complain about a one hour journey into London when we can now happily endure a twenty hour bus over various borders. That said, whilst some of the buses were absolutely horrendous, others were very pleasant with fully reclining chairs, in-seat entertainment and three course meals. National Express could learn a lot from Argentinian bus companies!

#8 English Highlands vs. South American Mountains

As much as I love the beautiful South American mountains, they come at a price: altitude! Unless you're content with admiring them from below you'll likely suffer the headaches and breathlessness caused by being so high. Initially we were literally waking up in the night gasping for air and feeling as though we'd run a marathon after climbing a flight of stairs. Though we gradually acclimatised, I never got fully used to living in the clouds and I'm looking forward to feeling full of life again down at ground zero. English countryside can be just as impressive despite not ever exceeding the one thousand metre mark.

#9 English Customer Service vs. South American Sloth Service

South Americans are never in a hurry and their customer service leaves a lot to be desired. It completely baffled us that we could spend twenty minutes queuing to pay for three items at a supermarket, or three hours to do a border crossing that some people have to do every day. Fortunately, as travellers we were rarely pushed for time either and so mostly found their laid back outlook rather refreshing but if I were to actually live here, I think I'd find it far more infuriating. For a nation that love to celebrate life, they spend a hell of a lot of it waiting around for something to happen.

#10 English Health & Safety Madness vs. South American See-What-Happens Mantra

This is always a tricky one. Whilst health and safety regulations are obviously put in place to reduce the likelihood of accidents occurring, when they're applied stringently they simultaneously reduce the likelihood of having any fun. If we'd been following British rules, there's no way we'd have been allowed to share a stream with alligators, walk along an active train track or race head first down a vertical sand slope; all of which were truly awesome. However, had we been eaten, run over or left with broken bones, I imagine they would have been considerably less enjoyable. I'm not sure either continent has the balance completely right here but it was exciting to err on the side of incaution for a little while, and thankfully I've lived to tell tale (touch wood, one day to go!) Where I do definitely side with England though is their approach to hygiene. Though forced to accept a long time ago that filthy squat toilets won't kill me, I nevertheless will be ecstatic to return to western bathroom facilities where the prominent colour is white and toilet roll can actually be thrown into the toilet. 

England and South America really are worlds apart and yet I find myself thinking fondly of both. How is it that I can be happy in two places which are in so many ways direct opposites of one another? Well one thing I've certainly learnt since being away is that nothing is ever black and white in terms of being good or bad, right or wrong, and I think these two places are a great example of that. One is not perfect and the other flawed; they're both just different and both just fine. In fact, more than fine, they're both f*cking fantastic!

I never thought I could love a continent as much as I love Asia but South America has exceeded all my expectations. We spent just shy of four months here but I think even after four years I'd still be left wanting more. I'm almost pleased that there are parts we missed out on because it just means we'll have to return! I've no doubt I'll be back before I know it and I absolutely cannot wait.

Ruta de las Cascadas, Baños

Oddly, Baños shares its name with the Spanish word for toilet but that's as far as the comparison goes. This small town up in the mountains is squeaky clean to appeal to the thousands of tourists who flock there every week. The town itself was a little too touristy for my liking, with 'I Heart Baños' merchandise displayed garishly in every shop window. However, the surrounding area boasts some of Ecuador's most beautiful waterfalls so it was still worth a stop.

Keen to get a closer look at the falls, we hired mountain bikes and cycled the eighteen kilometre Ruta de las Cascadas. We saw dozens along the way but made three main stops, at Cascada Agoyán, Rio Blanco and Rio Verde. 

Cascada Agoyán is quite remarkable because it's actually two waterfalls which collide together to cause double the calamity of crashes below. The local people have done all they can to capitalise on the tourism of the area, building cable cars, zip lines, bungees and all sorts else from the cliff edges facing the falls. One could argue that its destroyed the natural beauty of these wonders but at the same time, it enhanced our experience by allowing us to view them from all kinds of angles and closer in. For just $1.50 we jumped on a rickety old gondola which took us right up over and then into the falls. 

A little further along we came to Rio Blanco which again, was littered with different activities to do. This time Hana and I opted for a tandem zip line across the canyon, god knows how many metres above the river. As we were strapped into a superman position with fraying ropes and rusty clips, I have to admit I was bricking it a little. It's the kind of thing that wouldn't scare me at all at home, but in somewhere like Ecuador, you just never know. Tres, dos, uno, and we were off! Luckily the line was pretty long which gave us enough time to get over the initial shock and actually enjoy the incredible sensation of gliding through the air. It was an amazing view and an even better experience, all for just $7 when we'd have paid ten times that amount in Australia or New Zealand.

Our day ended in Rio Verde where we stopped for a late lunch before finding our final waterfall. Following the recommendation of a girl at our hostel, we sought out the 'Empanada Lady' and tried one of her chocolate and cheese combos. It's the first sweet empanada I've had and I think the outer casing was more doughy than pastry but whatever it was, it tasted delicious.

Cascada El Diablo was a forty-five minute walk from the town, deep down into the canyon. Along the way we passed a couple of stalls selling Jugo Cana, a South American juice made from pure sugar cane which made the perfect pick me up for our aching legs. When we finally arrived we woke right up, to the most powerful waterfall I think I've ever seen (Iguazu aside.) By crawling between the boulders up the mountain side, we could reach the very top of the fall and even stand behind the stream of water. We traipsed home completely soaked but it was so much fun! 

The Long Loop by Foot, Quilotoa to Sigchos

Having spent so much time on buses recently, it was refreshing to learn that for our next few destinations, we could simply walk. Simple, however, was not the word. This thirty-eight kilometre, three day hike, though incredibly enjoyable, was really hard. 

Our epic journey began in Quilotoa, at a beautiful canyon lake 3,500 metres above sea level. The calm water perfectly reflected the bright blue sky, sparkling in the rays on this clear, sunny morning. Captured in a photograph, this would have seemed like a pleasant day but in reality, an intense wind tore through our clothing, turning any inner warmth into ice. At our most exposed out on the crater's rim, it was so strong that we felt we might be carried away. For the first time ever I was rather glad to have the extra five kilos strapped to my back.

Within half an hour, we'd taken a wrong turn and found ourselves sliding through desert sand. Within another half hour, we realised our written instructions, though extremely detailed were entirely wrong. Very occasionally we'd come across a landmark which vaguely matched a description in our directions (i.e. 'a worn out bridge' meaning a few logs thrown across a river) but that only made it more confusing when we then trudged along for miles recognising nothing. Sometimes we'd spot human tracks which gave us hope (noticeably always hiking boots as opposed to our worse for wear trainers) but these fairly quickly faded to dust. Of course, if we ever passed an actual human we'd stop and ask for help but we saw more pigs than people all day. 

With no real conviction that we were going in the right direction, we wandered aimlessly through the Ecuadorian countryside. However, it was so beautiful every way we turned that it was difficult to care where we ended up. For four and a half hours we continued trekking, passing through the mountains, down the canyons and up the cliff faces on the other side. 

By blind chance, we eventually found civilisation (if that's what you can call a handful of houses and a cheese factory) and stopped for the night in Chugchilan. Whilst the majority of this tiny village consisted of mud huts and concrete shacks, the hostel was actually very nice with some of the cleanest facilities we've seen in the whole of South America. As there were no restaurants or shops nearby, they fed us too which was an added bonus. In fact, it would have been near perfect were it not for the fact that the power cut out midway through the evening and we were forced to eat and find our way back to bed in pitch black darkness. By candlelight, our cute little log cabin transformed into the creepy set of a horror film and we couldn’t wait until morning. 

We woke the next day with aching legs and blistered feet but buzzing for the next part of our journey. Ahead of us was another five hour hike but this time the path seemed rather more obvious, the wind had completely dropped and for the first half at least, it was entirely downhill. I was just beginning to gloat about how lovely a walk this was when we passed an elderly Ecuadorian lady struggling along, carrying two large cardboard boxes in a shawl across her shoulders. We didn’t need to speak the same language to understand that she could really use some help and by the time we realised how heavy the boxes were they were already in our hands. Whilst the additional weight made our next hour pretty challenging, it appeared to make her entire day. Once we eventually arrived at her house, she thanked us with home grown oranges but the real reward was her beaming smile. 

The minute we dropped the boxes and the ache in my arms began to fade, my attention turned to the burning sensation in my feet. It was all of a sudden excruciating to take a single step and I resorted to biting the insides of my lip to try and distract myself from the dominant pain. An hour or so later though, when my lips were red raw and my heels still stinging, I was forced to lose my trainers completely.  It felt like a great idea at first as I bounded through the grassy terrain with the freedom of bare feet but it soon turned marshy and I was faced with the unpleasant dilemma of choosing between wading through mud or sludgy cow pat.  At one particularly spectacular moment, this choice was taken out of my hands as I fell backwards from a rock, ending up shin deep in shit. 

Fortunately, we weren’t then too far from Isinlivi, the next village where we planned to stay the night. The hostel here was even nicer than in Chugchilan with amazing meals and the most beautiful view out across the valleys. Exhausted, we head to bed early after bursting our blisters and reflecting on what an interesting afternoon we had had.  

The third and final day was by far the most difficult. Even the thought of putting my trainers back on made me want to cry (but equally, so did the idea of being covered in shit again.) To make matters worse, we took a wrong turn almost immediately after setting off and so sent ourselves on a detour of a good few extra kilometres. Once we had veered away from the instructions it was tricky to get back on track, particularly as they had barely made sense to start with. On numerous occasions, we were adamant that we must be following the wrong route (namely when we were crawling under barbed wire, fighting through prickly bushes and clambering up sheer rock faces) but in each instance we failed to see another way. The only time we really stopped was when Han fell over and got a thorn stuck in her bum, but that was less to assess the navigational situation, more to inspect the wound and recover from my giggling fit.  

Three hours on, we passed a one-eyed man with a machete who insisted he walk with us for some of the way. When our Spanish small talk ran out and he eventually left, he told us that we only had about an hour to go which felt like the best news we’d had all year. From that moment on, we could stop focusing on our feet and instead take in the beauty of our surroundings once again. The Ecuadorian hills are absolutely stunning; like an intricate patchwork quilt stitched with every shade of green imaginable, and with a sky in the background so blue that it could put Instagram out of business.  They truly were some of the best views of our entire trip. 

Finally in a rather dreamy state, we set eyes on our end desintation, Sigchos. The whole trek was extremely difficult but what I found even more difficult was believing just how much we had achieved throughout it. To walk thirty-eight kilometres is pretty impressive anyway, but with our dodgy instructions and distinct lack of hiking equipment, it felt like nothing short of a miracle and we were overwhelmed to have made it. 

Quito Capital and Climbing Cotopaxi

Quito was not a city which had been recommended to us but anywhere that serves hot chocolate with cheese as their speciality is an absolute winner in my eyes. In fact, even after taking their weird but wonderful cuisine out of the equation, we still found the capital of Ecuador to be well worth a visit.

Aside from the area surrounding the hostels (which is worryingly similar to Malia) Quito is actually very pretty, full of spectacular old buildings and well kept parks. We spent our first morning there exploring the old town and making the very most of how cheap everything is. By chance, we stumbled across a music festival with street vendors selling giant plates of food for just $2 each. How could we possibly not like this place? 

Later that day we caught the cable car up Pichincha Volcano to view the whole of Quito from above. It was surprising to see the contrast between the cluttered city centre and the expansive green space in the hills which surround it. From every angle it looked fantastic, and we'd have liked to have stayed there to watch sunset but an inconveniently timed football match demanded our attention. 

Not wanting to miss out on the World Cup action, we found a bar with a big screen playing the England game. There are few Brits out here compared to the rest of South America but enough to still create an awesome atmosphere. That said, I find it hard enough to follow football anyway and with the commentary in Spanish it was practically impossible. All I know is that by the end of the game, my Italian half was feeling rather more prominent.

One of our best discoveries about Quito was that Cotopaxi, the world's largest active volcano, is sat on its doorstep and so on our second morning we woke up early to tackle this trek. The bus was supposed to drop us at the National Park but as we were the only tourists aboard, the driver decided to dump as at the side of the road instead. Therefore, our hike started a little earlier than expected with a good hour's walk to the park entrance. Fortunately, it was a beautifully sunny day so we were able to view it as an additional pleasant stroll and a good warm up before the hard work began.

Once at the entrance, however, we learnt that the start of the trek was still another forty minutes away...by car. No matter which way we looked at it, we were not walking that so found a 4x4 which came fully equipped with an English speaking guide who'd take us to the top. We were lucky in that our guide, Carlos, was an absolute legend. He explained in detail the history of the volcano and continued to chat to us the whole way up which was great as we're yet to meet many Ecuadorians. Over the course of the journey, we learnt all sorts, from the country's current political situation, to his son's favourite subject at school. In fact, the only topic he didn't cover was the trek and how bloody hard it would be!

Whilst engrossed in conversation, we'd barely noticed the thick mist beginning to creep up around us. By the time we reached the start of the path, we could see nothing but a blank sheet of white out of either window. It seemed our beautiful sunny day had been overcome with cloud at the worst possible point. 

Before long though we realised the cloud was the least of our worries. At 15,000 feet high, it was bitterly cold and the wind was so intense that we were being thrown from side to side with no control over our own direction. Horizontal hail then tore into our faces as we fought to keep our hoods up and shield our eyes. Wrapped up in five layers of clothing, it was impossible to believe that we'd been hot an hour earlier wearing just one. We wanted to cover our entire faces too but the altitude was making it difficult to breathe and we needed to leave our airways clear. It really wasn't terribly enjoyable but after coming all that way, the only option was up. 

I felt the snow before I saw it, as the wind dropped for a fleeting moment and I face-planted into it. The only way to even attempt to move forwards had been to lean with my full weight into the gale, but once it withdrew its support I instantly fell. My numb fingers winced at the icy white surface but it was at least a good indicator that we were almost there.

I'd been concentrating so hard on not being thrown off the edge that the return of the blue sky took me quite by surprise. It was still a little hazy but at our highest point of almost 16,000 feet, we could just make out the vivid red volcano standing out amongst the otherwise perfectly green landscape. As always, the sense of achievement was amazing and we flew back down the hill with the help of the wind now behind us and the snow allowing us to ski rather than step most of the way. 

On the drive back to the start, the sky totally cleared and so for the first time since arriving we saw the snowcapped summit of Cotopaxi. It looked stunning in the sunshine and it was as though this image was our reward for our hard work. Back in Quito though, the rewards continued: hot chocolates with marshmallows and nutella waffles! It was Treat Sunday, after all. 

The Long Road to Ecuador

I love rollercoasters, but imagine being on one for eighteen hours straight. The roads leading out of Medellin were so windy and bumpy that it felt just like a fairground ride, only we weren't strapped in. There's really only so much head banging and stomach lurching your body can take, especially when it's the middle of the night and you're supposed to be sleeping. 

We'd already spent as many nights on a bus as in a bed this week so decided to break up our journey slightly by stopping off in Pasto, a town in the very South of Colombia. From there, we caught a bus to Ipiales on the border but before hopping over and beginning our next adventure in Ecuador, we had one more place we needed to tick off.

Las Lajas Cathedral is a basilica church built deep between the valleys in the beautiful Colombian hills. Surrounded by natural waterfalls and white figure angels, it appears almost ethereal and not too dissimilar from something you'd find in Rivendell (though I had just watched Lord of the Rings for the zillionth time.) We were pleased to find this beauty replicated inside, with intricate stained glass windows and crystal chandeliers. The high ceilings are painted white with gold finishings, giving the grand church a unique and natural light.

It was a stunning stop off and the perfect end to an amazing ten days in Colombia. The onward journey to Quito was nothing short of epic but at least in the daylight we had the gorgeous scenery to distract us and from what we've seen of Ecuador so far, it was definitely worth the effort.