Some people might get the wrong impression from my posts, that we are not having a good time, and that maybe I should write more positive things. Well, these posts are not for the faint of heart. If you want the light side of our travels go to my facebook page at http://www.facebook.com/george.burroughs.14. In reality, it’s been, and continues to be, an outstanding experience. And the trials and tribulations are part of the experience that we will remember for a lifetime. That being said, I will try to write about some of the fun things that have been happening. But then again, it depends on your interpretation of fun.
I have found that much of our trip has been like the Griswold’s in National Lampoon Vacation movies. Yet, there’s a reason they have not done a “Ecuadorian” Vacation movie, they probably couldn’t get past immigration. We landed in Quito with our 17 bags and two children. The 17 bags made it, but the children almost didn’t. I was quickly ushered through immigration but apparently there was a problem with the boys’ visas; the numbers didn’t match their records. I am not sure if they thought we were mules in some sort of slave trade, but it was decided that Greer would stay and resolve the issue while I went and got our bags and notified our ride that we were being delayed. For a time, it more likely resembled the movie “The Terminal” where Tom Hanks plays “an immigrant who finds himself stranded in JFK airport, and must take up temporary residence there…” than Chevy Chase as the bumbling dad in the Vacation movies. Although, if you saw me trying to negotiate the 17 bags by myself, visions of Clark Griswold stumbling while putting up Christmas lights would quickly reappear. Taking pity on my wife, and assuming we weren’t involved in human trafficking, our children were released and we were on our way.
First stop – Ambato – our hometown for the ensuing 12 months. Or should I say more like a weigh station, as we use this to plot and plan our passageway through various Ecuadorian travels.
We quickly found ourselves back to Quito for luxurious lodging at the Hilton, the last of our opulent stays in Ecuador, as we will be roughing it – Griswold style – from here on out. You can’t come to Ecuador without going to La Mitad del Mundo (the middle of the world) at the equator. Here we got to balance an egg on a nail, (at least some of us did – Garrett got a certificate for his balancing act) straddle two hemispheres, (I always wanted to be two places at once) and witness how the toilet flushes clockwise in the northern hemisphere and counterclockwise in the southern (maybe that explains why the toilets can’t flush down toilet paper). We left Quito unscathed, unharmed and with fond memories.
The same cannot be said for our trip to Baños, as the images will scar us for life. Ok, perhaps not as dramatic as Grant’s appendectomy that literally will scar him for life, but the memories are still haunting. And our nightmare was not the result of some horrific tragedy resulting from the nearby erupting volcano, but it was very much closely related to that volcano. We went to see the exploding volcanic fireworks from a neighboring mountaintop, as promised by the tourist agent. Well, there was no volcano - erupting or not, but there was a roller coaster of a ride on the Chiva bus (an open air party bus with music blasting in our ears- whose idea was it to sit next to the oversized speakers?) that was the only good part of the trip. What happened next would make the Griswolds look like The Savvy Travelers. Upon our arrival there were dozens of other Chivas that made the trek up the mountain, and we quickly lost sight of our guide. Not speaking the language, and fearful that we would get left behind and stranded, we locked our fate on a fellow passenger – a baby with his cute little Elmo cap being carried over his dad’s shoulder. As long as we followed his lead, we knew we would not be left behind. “The baby is on the move, relocating to the observation deck.” At one point, the dad tried to give us the slip and handed the baby off to its mother. However, our highly trained Secret Service team of Grant and Garrett kept the subject under close surveillance. A frigid two hours, and a Washington Square type comedy routine later (all in Spanish- the joke was on the gringos), we tailed our suspects back to the Chiva - where it would only get worse. We raced down the mountain over the speed (up?) bumps, in the cold mountainous air, and unlike roller coasters, which I don’t like anyway – on this one I truly feared for my life. And while a runaway bus barreling off a mountain road is typical Griswold luck - I am happy to report - we safely arrived at our destination, scarred, but unscathed. As for our other Baños adventure fiasco, the go-cart ride around the city was literally an accident waiting to happen. Why we thought this would be fun, I am not sure, but even though it was Garrett’s idea – he pegged it best: he liked go-carts on the track because 1) he got to drive and 2) he didn’t fear for his safety - smart kid he isJ. So, with Greer and Grant driving behind us, we made a U-turn to avoid traffic on a busy street. We pulled to the side of the road to wait for them… and wait and wait…so we make another U-turn only to find the Gs (for Greer and Grant, not the Griswolds) pushing the stalled go cart to the side of the road – ducking and dodging those same Ecuadorian drivers who refuse to give pedestrians (or anyone else for that matter) the right of way. The adventure remained a comedy and not a tragedy as they navigated safely to the side. Upon our return to the go-cart rental – they only refunded half of our money. Was that because only one of the two cars worked, or that we were only out for half of our hour-long ride? I wasn’t quite sure how you say “this is f**king ridiculous” in Spanish.
For another adventure we changed our venue (and hopefully our karma) to Riobamba, a city known for its crafts and market, where we stayed at a beautiful hacienda about 10 miles outside of town. It seemed more like a lodge in the Swiss Alps, especially when a group of French tourists arrived looking like they just got off of the ski slopes. But the exquisite and picturesque nature of the place paled in comparison to what took place at the riding stables. Garrett, our 10-year-old, was wary of the sheer size, power and uncertainty of the edgy equine (he is his father’s son). He tentatively mounted the horse and I can’t say I blame him; his horse treated him like an uninvited guest. After several tense and uncertain moments, Garrett ponied up to the task and was able to overcome his fear of riding a horse. And in typical Garrett fashion - we weren’t even back to the stable - and he was saying “can I get a horse?” With Garrett it is all or nothing. And kudos to Greer, too, who rode a horse for the first time since she was thrown off one five years ago.
So, like all good Hollywood movies, this one had a happy ending. And the best part about it… the sequel is coming.
I have found that much of our trip has been like the Griswold’s in National Lampoon Vacation movies. Yet, there’s a reason they have not done a “Ecuadorian” Vacation movie, they probably couldn’t get past immigration. We landed in Quito with our 17 bags and two children. The 17 bags made it, but the children almost didn’t. I was quickly ushered through immigration but apparently there was a problem with the boys’ visas; the numbers didn’t match their records. I am not sure if they thought we were mules in some sort of slave trade, but it was decided that Greer would stay and resolve the issue while I went and got our bags and notified our ride that we were being delayed. For a time, it more likely resembled the movie “The Terminal” where Tom Hanks plays “an immigrant who finds himself stranded in JFK airport, and must take up temporary residence there…” than Chevy Chase as the bumbling dad in the Vacation movies. Although, if you saw me trying to negotiate the 17 bags by myself, visions of Clark Griswold stumbling while putting up Christmas lights would quickly reappear. Taking pity on my wife, and assuming we weren’t involved in human trafficking, our children were released and we were on our way.
First stop – Ambato – our hometown for the ensuing 12 months. Or should I say more like a weigh station, as we use this to plot and plan our passageway through various Ecuadorian travels.
We quickly found ourselves back to Quito for luxurious lodging at the Hilton, the last of our opulent stays in Ecuador, as we will be roughing it – Griswold style – from here on out. You can’t come to Ecuador without going to La Mitad del Mundo (the middle of the world) at the equator. Here we got to balance an egg on a nail, (at least some of us did – Garrett got a certificate for his balancing act) straddle two hemispheres, (I always wanted to be two places at once) and witness how the toilet flushes clockwise in the northern hemisphere and counterclockwise in the southern (maybe that explains why the toilets can’t flush down toilet paper). We left Quito unscathed, unharmed and with fond memories.
The same cannot be said for our trip to Baños, as the images will scar us for life. Ok, perhaps not as dramatic as Grant’s appendectomy that literally will scar him for life, but the memories are still haunting. And our nightmare was not the result of some horrific tragedy resulting from the nearby erupting volcano, but it was very much closely related to that volcano. We went to see the exploding volcanic fireworks from a neighboring mountaintop, as promised by the tourist agent. Well, there was no volcano - erupting or not, but there was a roller coaster of a ride on the Chiva bus (an open air party bus with music blasting in our ears- whose idea was it to sit next to the oversized speakers?) that was the only good part of the trip. What happened next would make the Griswolds look like The Savvy Travelers. Upon our arrival there were dozens of other Chivas that made the trek up the mountain, and we quickly lost sight of our guide. Not speaking the language, and fearful that we would get left behind and stranded, we locked our fate on a fellow passenger – a baby with his cute little Elmo cap being carried over his dad’s shoulder. As long as we followed his lead, we knew we would not be left behind. “The baby is on the move, relocating to the observation deck.” At one point, the dad tried to give us the slip and handed the baby off to its mother. However, our highly trained Secret Service team of Grant and Garrett kept the subject under close surveillance. A frigid two hours, and a Washington Square type comedy routine later (all in Spanish- the joke was on the gringos), we tailed our suspects back to the Chiva - where it would only get worse. We raced down the mountain over the speed (up?) bumps, in the cold mountainous air, and unlike roller coasters, which I don’t like anyway – on this one I truly feared for my life. And while a runaway bus barreling off a mountain road is typical Griswold luck - I am happy to report - we safely arrived at our destination, scarred, but unscathed. As for our other Baños adventure fiasco, the go-cart ride around the city was literally an accident waiting to happen. Why we thought this would be fun, I am not sure, but even though it was Garrett’s idea – he pegged it best: he liked go-carts on the track because 1) he got to drive and 2) he didn’t fear for his safety - smart kid he isJ. So, with Greer and Grant driving behind us, we made a U-turn to avoid traffic on a busy street. We pulled to the side of the road to wait for them… and wait and wait…so we make another U-turn only to find the Gs (for Greer and Grant, not the Griswolds) pushing the stalled go cart to the side of the road – ducking and dodging those same Ecuadorian drivers who refuse to give pedestrians (or anyone else for that matter) the right of way. The adventure remained a comedy and not a tragedy as they navigated safely to the side. Upon our return to the go-cart rental – they only refunded half of our money. Was that because only one of the two cars worked, or that we were only out for half of our hour-long ride? I wasn’t quite sure how you say “this is f**king ridiculous” in Spanish.
For another adventure we changed our venue (and hopefully our karma) to Riobamba, a city known for its crafts and market, where we stayed at a beautiful hacienda about 10 miles outside of town. It seemed more like a lodge in the Swiss Alps, especially when a group of French tourists arrived looking like they just got off of the ski slopes. But the exquisite and picturesque nature of the place paled in comparison to what took place at the riding stables. Garrett, our 10-year-old, was wary of the sheer size, power and uncertainty of the edgy equine (he is his father’s son). He tentatively mounted the horse and I can’t say I blame him; his horse treated him like an uninvited guest. After several tense and uncertain moments, Garrett ponied up to the task and was able to overcome his fear of riding a horse. And in typical Garrett fashion - we weren’t even back to the stable - and he was saying “can I get a horse?” With Garrett it is all or nothing. And kudos to Greer, too, who rode a horse for the first time since she was thrown off one five years ago.
So, like all good Hollywood movies, this one had a happy ending. And the best part about it… the sequel is coming.