February 5-18, 2018
Whyaquil?
A couple of weeks before the Galapagos, while I was still in Bolivia, I had caught up with my friend Neha on the phone as I was waiting for my room to be sorted out in Uyuni. I had mentioned that I’d be heading to Ecuador soon and she excitedly told me that our good friend, Rishi, was also going to be there in February! I couldn’t believe it really, but the string of coincidences / synchronicities was to continue.
Turned out that Rishi, who was completing his medical residency at NYU, was going to be in the city of Guayaquil for a month as a part of his medical training. Most of the time, he was working / observing at a hospital in the city, but he also was forced to take his normal vacation adjacent to his time there, so we were in luck. We chatted over a couple of options and decided that we both needed some beach time, and would take in some part of the famed Ruta del Sol on the Pacific coast of Ecuador. On top of that, we decided to go to one the most famous Carnival scenes in Ecuador in a little beach town called Montañita.
Instead of joining my parents for the flight from Galapagos all the way back to Quito, where they were continuing on to the Amazon region, I was able to arrange with the tour company to just leave the plane during our connection in Guayaquil, making sure that my bags got off the plane with me too. I was feeling a bit heavier than usual since I’d taken on some gifts that my parents had brought me from the US, but hadn’t traded back as much extra stuff as I’d hoped. These included my favorite hot sauce, crunchy peanut butter, Dr. Brommer’s soap, a hydration bladder, and sunscreen. As I mentioned, I’d considered sending back my GoPro and telephoto lens, but ended up keeping both after realizing my foolishness at such a thought.
After getting my bag, I stocked up on some USD and made my way to the Metrovia rapid bus that would take me into the city to the hostel that Rishi and I were staying at. I was a bit frustrated at first because I needed to get a fare card, but they weren’t sold anywhere at the airport. Thankfully, I was able to give some cash to a local who passed me through on his card. Clearly, tourists are not normally taking this route into the city.
Guayaquil is the most populous city in Ecuador with 3 million people, It’s also a steam-bath, which actually, I was quite happy to have. Despite the rain, it had been a few chilly weeks in Patagonia, Chile and Bolivia since I’d been in some tropical weather. Guayaquil is a port city, so it’s quite industrial, lots of bustle, and not a ton of character. They had just redone the seaside promenade, a malecón meant to imitate Havana a bit, but it was so rainy during the two days I was there that I didn’t get a chance to see it.
I arrived at the hostel and shortly after settling in Rishi arrived. This was another extremely bizarre and wonderful moment, seeing a great friend who I hadn’t seen in months, but also had never in my wildest imagination expected to see here, in Ecuador, totally by happenstance. We relaxed at the hostel for a bit, catching up – Rishi’s a super gregarious guy and I could easily spend hours talking to him. Then we went out for a “bougie” dinner, and continued for a cocktail at a bar he knew had huge margaritas. Rishi had already been in Guayaquil for a couple weeks working, but had been staying with a doctor’s family in the suburbs of the city, so he was really happy to actually be in town, with a bit more independence not having to explain where he was going, but also just being a guest takes its toll after awhile.
We agreed on our plan to meet up in Montañita on Friday, skipping the Miami-esque city of Salinas. Rishi would be able to take a day off, but in the meantime, I’d start ahead and spend a few days getting acclimated in the little beach town adjacently north of Montañita called Olon. The following day, I took it easy in the morning, picked up a few groceries / supplies. I was planning to volunteer later in the month and was told I’d need gardening gloves. I went to a hardware store (a ferreteria, one of my favorite Spanish words), but they only had dish gloves. These would come in very handy a few months later in New Zealand. Rishi was able to get out of work for lunch, so we tracked down a little restaurant that is renowned for serving the famous Guayaquil / coastal dish called encebollado. Cebolla is the word for onion, so this was basically a “onioned” soup. It was full of delicious seafood and a fabulous broth. We split some platanos con queso, and left full. From there we split, but it was only a “see ya later” thankfully.
I headed back on the Metrovia to the bus terminal to go to Olon. This proved to be a bit confusing, as the city bus stopped at the terminal for city buses, but the intercity terminal was a bit of a walk. As I crossed a few bus waiting lanes, looking utterly confused I’m sure, a middle-aged Ecuadorian man came over to ask if I needed help.
My immediate reaction in this kind of a situation is to assume he’s trying to sell me something, or was a tout who wanted to get paid for walking me to my bus. I wanted neither, so I politely said “no thank you”, but then he came around to my front, and it turned out he was just a regular guy who wanted to help. This would be a theme of my time in Ecuador – the people here were really overly helpful and friendly. Our guide in Quito had said that Ecuadorians are quite peaceful, and even the historically the indigenous populations hadn’t fared well warring against the Incas from the south. Seems that this culture has continued. Anyway, he pointed me in the right direction for the main intercity terminal and I was on my way.
I crossed an above-ground walkway over a massive highway and arrived to a HUGE bus terminal. I’m not sure why I was expecting it to be kinda sleepy and small, but I was wrong. Here, once I got in, there were more friendly Ecuadorians to assist me in getting my ticket. I had read that there was only one booth that would sell a ticket to Olon, as most stopped in Salinas, where I would need to transfer. Since it was already late afternoon, I didn’t want to deal with that. Someone pointed me in the right direction, I got my ticket and waited a bit, boarded on time and arrived in Olon a few hours later.
Olon
My first taste of the coast was soaking wet. It was absolutely pouring when I arrived on the side of the road just outside this tiny town, but I still took enough time to walk the couple streets to my hostel that I was pretty drenched by the time I arrived. I’d chosen this one, El Hostel Gran Azul, as a new friend from our Guayaquil hostel, an Italian Swiss guy named Flavio, was a day ahead of me and vouched for it. Online they looked to be booked solid, but Flavio had talked to them and said I could join in his room (there were free beds) no problem. I threw my bag down and was told that the manager wasn’t around just now and to relax.
I sat down with Flavio and got myself some grilled skewered meat and rice from the street cook next door. Out of hunger and wetness, I didn’t bother trying to find veggie food. We were joined by Joey and her husband Wayne, who had just arrived from Arizona on their quest to find a retirement home outside the US. I had heard it was a common place for Americans to retire, but I hadn’t met any just yet who had made the move. These two were super interesting people, having had many careers and struggles, and now decided for health reasons to spend their golden years together in Ecuador.
I asked why they chose Ecuador specifically – why not Panama, Costa Rica, or other popular locations, and Joey told me something so fascinating. That besides the cost of living and the climate, Ecuador was one of only three countries in the world (Bolivia and New Zealand being the other two) where their constitution had directly written in rights for nature. This led us down the path of a really wonderful conversation, crossing the politics of the US and Ecuador, as well as my recent experience in the Galapagos. I explained how I’d been traveling for awhile, and we got to talking about whisky. Then, as if by some miracle, Wayne said that he had just a few pours left of a bourbon I really liked called Angel’s Envy (the “angel’s share” is a distillery term related to the part of a batch that evaporates out of the sealed cask over time as it ages), and he offered to split the end with me. I was so overjoyed and grateful in this moment I could have cried. It had been months since I’d had a quality whisky back in the US, and after an afternoon of travel, arriving soaked to a hostel not certain whether I’d be able to stay , a couple fingers of whisky was just what the doctor ordered.
The next morning, Flavio and I decided to walk into Montañita to see about his accommodation for the next few days, and check out the town. It was a sweaty 20 minute walk to the town, but with some really beautiful ocean views that made it worth it. Montañita itself is a bit of a backpacker haven, but at this time of year in particular, being Carnival, it was super crowded and a bit too much of a “scene” for me. I laughed at how old I was starting to feel. The party life just didn’t have as much of a draw anymore. We meandered around a bit and then settled on a highly-recommended Italian restaurant for lunch. Even Flavio agreed that it was really tasty – their homemade pasta and breads were delicious.
The next day, I took it reaaaalllly easy and only left in the afternoon to check out the beach after the rain stopped. I spent most of the day hanging out on the front porch with Joey, Wayne, the manager Stefani (Fani), and her friend, Aleksandra, who was visiting (good friends from Macedonia). Fani is a singer and actress who had been living / performing / teaching for a few years in Cuenca, the old colonial capital of Ecuador in the south. Then, a little while back she had been enticed up to Olon to help the mother of a friend from home run this hostel. The owner was away for now, so it was just her and the owner’s ~20 year old daughter who were managing things. We had some lovely conversations broaching every possible topic, and ended up going out that night to Montañita to see an Argentinian guest play music at a bar. That was really fun, as they played a lot of covers that everyone could sing along with, and our waiter turned out to be an old friend of Fani’s from a few years ago who had recognized her when we sat down.
I spent the next couple days alternating between the beach and the hostel, but beyond that I have to point out that there were two exceptional bakeries that were next door to one another on the main road in town. Each morning I’d go to pick up a small whole wheat baguette from one side, and then indulge in maybe the best pain au chocolat I’ve ever had. I’d try to get there as early as 8am or so in order to get the freshest breads and they always sold out quickly. I only realized now that I probably ate these too quickly to even take a photo. Le sigh, you’ll just have to visit for yourself.
The other fun thing on the beach all the way from Montañita to Olon was seeing all these tiny holes in the sand. At first I thought it was just little divots from wood or shells that had washed up, but then as I looked further down the beach I could see little crabs quickly ducking into these holes as I got within a few meters. They could obviously feel my steps coming towards them and they’d disappear like a whack-a-mole game! So cool!
Montañita
After some torrential rain early on Friday (it seems it was the rainy season in Ecuador), I mercifully took a taxi from Olon to the hostel we’d be staying at just outside of the Montañita town. I could have taken the bus for a quarter, but since the hostel was down a dirt road a few hundred meters from the main road, I gave myself the gift of convenience for $2.50. We decided to stay at Kamala Surf & Backpacker Hostel, a veritable party hostel, though out of the main town to preserve a bit of sanity for me.
It was Carnival weekend, so this was bound to be a big party, and this was one of only a few rooms left in town within our price range for the weekend. By the time I arrived, Rishi was already a couple beers deep at the bar, chatting away with some travelers. I settled into my many-person dorm, which was quite sandy and a bit gross, but hey, this is what I’ve come to expect at beach hostels, and then met up at the bar for some happy hour beers.
It turns out that this day was my 6-month milestone since quitting my job, so there were some extra cheers going around, and it was also fun for me to see Rishi meeting all these backpackers as someone who was just on a “weekend getaway”. Trading stories both ways, he being totally out of the mold of what I’d be talking about, dropping hospital terms, talking about the Ecuadorian medical system. It was fascinating and a lot of fun. I remember someone asking me if I was feeling burnt out at this point, and me almost laughing at the suggestion. I”d met some folks along the way who’d complained of the same, but I just couldn’t understand how you couldn’t be enjoying each day when you get to decide what you do. I felt as freshly excited as I had six months prior, and it was a feeling that continues to this day, a year later.
Somehow, after a couple beers, I ended up in a heated discussion (I refuse to call it an argument, because it was very civil) with a Dutch guy Jeroen about free speech, and the state of such on American college campuses. I believe this was shortly after there was some protest / violence at UC Berkeley to deny a conservative speaker from speaking. We probably went on for an hour, and the Dutch are very proud of their tolerance / love for free speech, but we ultimately agreed to disagree on our stances and gave a hug at the end. It was really refreshing to have a strongly-opinionated philosophical debate, not something that happens all that often on the road, and then to be able to be really cordial and not aggressive about it. It also gave me some hope as I look at the incessant negativity of the news at home.
Also worth noting is that Jeroen (he called himself Jim) was motorcycling the Americas. This was something that I’d really wanted (and still want) to do via car, but when I was researching driving through Alaska to get to Canada, I found that it was a one-lane highway that often gets closed during the summer for maintenance. Totally understandable, but I didn’t want to spend 8+ hours sitting behind a construction crew on an already tediously long journey. Either way, he’d been up through Patagonia and the “southern cone” and was making his way towards Central America. I kept following his journey on Facebook, which was incredible, and he ended up finishing this past summer in Canada. Just incredible!
I decided to “go out” that night since Rishi was in town, whose energy is quite contagious, and I figured it was time for something a little different. The three of us got drunk at the hostel and then took a taxi into town. We found our way to some other bars serving tropical drinks and enjoyed a couple as it was absolutely pouring rain. It was to the point though that nobody seemed to care anymore. Everyone was wearing flip flops and the temperature was still at least 80 F, so it was actually pretty comfortable. I think I may have even worn a bathing suit that night.
We ventured around to a couple “clubs” with a small group of people and once we found one that didn’t charge a cover, it turned out to be pretty empty. By now, I was sobering up and didn’t want to spend a lot more money on drinks, so I called it quits and found a taxi back to the hostel. As we were pulled off the main road towards the hostel, I realized that I had only brought out a $20 bill and my credit card with me. I cringed as I reached forward to pay, expecting the classic “no tengo cambio”, or dramatic huffing and puffing from the driver. But that night, I was in luck as this guy was super prepared. He pulled out a roll of quarters and proceeded to give me back about $15 worth of quarters and a couple of one-dollar coins. I deserved it, and it would actually be pretty helpful for paying for buses down the line, but I was jingling pretty loudly as I entered my dorm room to pass out.
The following morning I enjoyed some of the breakfast that Kamala was known for. The owner is Australian, so the smashed avocado toast with feta was on point! One fun little part of this hostel was that there were two donkeys on the premise who kept the grass trimmed. I’m not really sure why else they were there, but they were pretty cute nonetheless, except when they got into the big garbage bins. I suggested to Rishi that we enjoy a bit of a special cookie I’d brought from the US, and that pretty much summed up the rest of the day. That Cali stuff is strong! We meandered down the beach as it was digesting and by the time we got to Montanita proper, we were pretty heavy into it. There were TONS of families out, which was fun to see that we travelers weren’t completely taking over this little town, and they were running around spraying each other with colored foam from canisters that looked like the kind you use for caulking. The rest of the time wandering around is a bit of a blur, but I do remember walking back to the hostel around 4pm and being completely exhausted and napping for four hours until “family dinner” time, where you sign up in the morning for one of a couple dishes and then everyone enjoys dinner together around the common area. It’s something I’ve seen at a handful of places, but that I really enjoy, especially in a place like this one, which is not in the main town area. Keeps things cheap and simple for the hostel too.
Rishi left the following day, Sunday, in the afternoon and we had a heartfelt goodbye, both recognizing how bizarre and incredible it was that we had this opportunity. Rishi was heading back to Guayaquil to meet his family to also go to the Galapagos, and then tour around Quito before heading back to NYC at the end of the month. I spent most of the time there reading and enjoying the beach, and the sunset in particular, which goes right down to the horizon on the Pacific.
That night at dinner I met a German girl named Sophia, who was just coming out of a tough situation at the end of a yoga teacher / reiki training down the road. We hung out that night, went for a sunset walk along the beach trying to avoid getting hit with the shaving cream, and indulged in a fantastic chocolate cake at a cafe she knew at the end of the beach that also played live music. It was one of those connections that goes very deep very quickly, and we really enjoyed each other’s company and conversation. Turns out she was just 20 years old, which totally surprised me and blew me away. She was definitely an old soul, like myself. Another reminder of how irrelevant age is.
We ended up doing some yoga together on the beach the following day so she could get some practice teaching, which I was very happy to oblige, and then she decided to join me on my trip up north for my final stop on the coast in a little surf town called Canoa.
Canoa
On Tuesday the 13th, I decided it was time to move on from Kamala and Montañita and head north to Canoa. I’d heard this was a lovely town, which although it didn’t have any SCUBA, I thought would be a good stopping point for a few days before either heading further north, or making my move towards the cloud forest area nearer to Quito.
This turned out to be a bit of a journey.
Our first leg was to catch a taxi into Montañita. Once in town, we got to the waiting area (aka a corner) for the bus to Manta, the next big city up the coast, and a transit hub for us to continue north. We stocked up on some snacks and a massive fresh coconut for lunch and set off towards Manta, which included a change of buses at some point in the middle. In these situations nobody really explains why you’re changing buses. Instead, everyone just seems to accept this and gets off of the bus, and then there are some other guys waiting at the bottom of the stairs to usher you to your next bus. It seems chaotic, but in the end, you never really feel like you’ll get stranded somewhere.
As this second bus was about to pull away, Sophia asked if I’d seen her plastic bag with book and passport inside. I sadly had not, and she began frantically looking around the seats for it, and then trying to get back to the last bus before it went away somewhere else. She went through all her bags without any luck. Honestly, I was pretty sure that the bag hadn’t existed in the first place, but Sophia was sure of it. As with most things, this was now out of our control, and so I tried to give her some of this perspective, and that there was nothing more she could do at this moment without a computer or phone.
We arrived to and switched at Manta with a short wait towards Bahia de Caraquez, another couple hours, after which we’d get on a local bus to take us across the bay to Canoa. We arrived at Bahia and waited for this local bus to show up. I’ll never forget this bus station though, really just a parking lot, because it was completely invaded by flies like a plague. There were a handful of vendors selling sweet nuts and other snacks, and the flies and ants were just EVERYWHERE. I was pretty grossed out, and the ceiling lights were attracting even more of them, but again, there was nothing to do besides wait.
After what felt like ages, we finally got picked up by the local bus and taken the last 30 minutes to Canoa. We dropped our bags at the Coco Loco hostel, recently owned by an American guy, and went across the street to a fish stall to get a tasty coconut fish curry for dinner.
This hostel was really wonderful. The dorms were brand new, everything was really clean (even for the beach), and there were hammocks aplenty. They even offered a free beer for every bag of trash you picked up off of the beach, which I thought I’d definitely take advantage of. Also, there was a mostly-functional kitchen, and a nearby grocery “store” for picking up the essential fruits and veggies. There was also an adorable pup named Batman I think. The owner, who I chatted with a bunch, had a thing for comics, so the wifi password was “GreenLantern”.
Canoa is a tiny town, mostly known as a haven for surfers with its moderate-sized waves. It’s very laid back, with only a few hostels and restaurants – nothing like the chaos of Montañita, more like the feel or Olon. After the first day relaxing on the beach and in the hammocks, I had the sense I’d be staying here awhile, and ended up here for a full week.
While here, Sophia and I took advantage of the balcony area on the second floor for daily yoga and meditation, and even met some other German girls – Thea and Alice – who joined us for some of them. They were also super lovely and we all had a nice time making dinner and breakfast together, walking on the beach and relaxing in the hammocks. I met them one afternoon while I was on the balcony editing photos and listening to music. They were on the other side of the balcony and politely asked if I minded them smoking. I said it was no problem, and then they offered me part of their joint – I knew we’d get along just fine. In fact, a few days later, they insisted on gifting me some of their flowers since they were leaving the Ecuador soon. It was one of the nicest birthday gifts I’d received!
After a couple days, Sophia came over to me on the hammock smiling broadly. She told me that she had contacted the yoga school and they told her that her passport and books / notes were still there. Apparently, in the rush to get out of that situation, she’d forgotten them. It was such great news and just another one of those strange signs of things working out as they ought to. Sadly, this meant that she’d need to go all the way back down to Montañita to retrieve them, but of course, well worth the backtracking.
One fond memory from Canoa was my morning routine. I’d get up around 7, do some meditation and then Sophia would lead us in yoga with the girls. Then I’d head out to the grocery store for fruit and the bakery for fresh breads and treats. I’d pick up a coconut juice on the way back and then prepare a morning feast of eggs, bread, peanut butter, banana and strawberry, sometimes a mango, coconut juice, and bread. Then I’d read in the hammock while I digested and try to avoid lunch with some snacks.
I remember reading a really fascinating longform article about the ethics of traveling on Huffington Post that I’d highly suggest. It’s a really fun travel story through some really remote parts of the world that travelers aren’t meant to go to, but it also raised some good points about why we travel, how we do it, and whether we should. I spent an entire morning talking this through with an English guy and should probably reread it now, a year later.
In the afternoons I’d stroll the beach and go for a swim in the Pacific. I feel that it’s my duty to swim in the ocean every time I’m near it, even to just get my toes in if it’s too cold outside. The water in Canoa was super warm and delightful, and I could spend nearly an hour in there before wanting to come out. I even ventured all the way down to the end of the beach where there were some cliffs and no humans to do some swimming in my birthday suit, which was just wonderful.
I had been trying to arrange a week of volunteering at Sueño de Vida, a permaculture farm / sustainable living center, which I’d heard about through my friend Caitlin, who knew one of the owners from the D.C. yoga community. I had been in touch with one of the owners, Kristen, for a couple weeks, and it turned out she’d gotten a cold and wanted to push my arrival back a few days. This meant I’d be celebrating my birthday in Canoa, which I didn’t mind one bit.
Ringing In Twenty-Nine
I had been seeing a lot of people run fundraisers on Facebook for their birthday, and since in-person gifts would be tough this year, I thought it was a cool idea to do myself.
I immediately knew what organization I’d be fundraising for too – the National Park Foundation – which was then (and still is) under budgetary constraints due to severe cuts by our President and Congress. Sarah and I had taken a trip with her friend Maddie in April 2017, which had totally opened my eyes to the beauty of our country. Maddie is a river guide in the Grand Canyon and an Arizona native, so her intense love of and infectious energy for the parks was amazing to be around and inspired me to start my journey out in the western US at the many parks there. Those two months in Alaska, Washington, Oregon, California, Nevada, Utah, and Colorado were absolutely life-changing. I learned to love hiking. I had seen and felt some of the most beautiful forests in the world. I had meditated in the lowest and driest point in the Western Hemisphere. I had enjoyed sunsets and sunrises. I had learned to love camping. I’m glad I was able to inspire people to donate to this cause, and it more than exceeded the $290 goal I had set (which I matched) for my 29th birthday.
Today, in 2019, the parks are still under attack by our administration, and still need our help. They receive nearly one million visitors EACH DAY, and protect some of the most beautiful and sacred land on our planet. In addition, it’s one of only a few places I’ve been that does not charge more for foreigners than for locals, so even if you’re not from the US, please consider donating to support an organization that supports you.
Besides the fundraiser, my birthday was exactly what I’d wanted it to be, besides being with my people from home. I made another hearty and tasty breakfast and then spent an hour cleaning up two bags of trash from the beach for two beers from the hostel. I spoke to friends and family, read my book in the hammock, and made a tasty pasta dinner. The best part was getting surprised by my new friends with a massive piece of chocolate cake from one of the few other hostels down the road. I was taken aback, and so so grateful to have made these new friends. It really was a special birthday I’ll never forget. Thank you Sophia, Alice, and Thea!!
Alas though, my time in Canoa, and the Ruta del Sol, was coming to an end. On the 19th I packed up my bags and headed out to the corner grocery store where the bus north would take me on the beginning of my route towards another dreamy place, Sueño de Vida, in the cloud forest of Ecuador.
Photos
Click here to see the gallery