Tag Archives: traveller

Latacunga

My first running destination in Latacunga was a statue of Mama Negra. That’s right, black Mama. Yep I know what you’re thinking, and I’m thinking it too. But I’m not sure if being PC is really a thing in Ecuador (or South America). I mean, I’m volunteering at a school at the moment and its quite acceptable, if not positively endearing, to refer to a pupil as ‘morenito’, which roughly translates to ‘little brown boy’. Don’t worry I won’t be adding (the translations, at least), to my regular vocabluary.

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So to Mama Negra: the story behind the statue… At Latacunga’s fiesta of the same name, which happens twice a year, a white or moreno (brown) man dresses up as a woman and blacks up his face, riding through the town on a horse, as the centre of all the festivities. I’ve had a bit of a look online and there isn’t a lot about the background of Mama Negra in English. Some texts say that she represents the Virgin of Mercy. Which I don’t really get. Another site says she represents the liberation of black people in Ecuador. Which makes slightly more sense but I’m not sure why this tradition happens in Latacunga, where very few Afro-Ecuadorians live, or have ever lived. It certainly isn’t something I am entirely (or remotely) comfortable with, and the fact that the only texts I have found on the matter are academic type papers on racism says a lot. But hey, they do say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, right? Hmmm.

Onwards from Mama Negra I ran to a nearby park, known locally at ‘la laguna’. Although maybe not quite up to the standards of some lagoons I’ve seen on my travels, it was still a pleasant little park. A large group of women were undertaking an aerobics class to hardstyle music. I got a snap from afar, including the lagoon and looking onwards to the mountains in the background.

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So Latacunga is a smallish town, the kind of place where running gringos might draw attention. A guy stopped me on my way and told me he was a personal trainer and runner and we had a little chat where he asked me about my distances and PBs and invited me to his fitness class. All in Spanish! I felt quite proud about saying the right things at the right time, and for once my perpetual nodding and smiling being sincere (since I understood pretty much everything). I also caught the attention of a few other locals, including two impersonators; one young boy who followed me for a lap of the park, and one middle aged man on the good old urban gym gave a great impression of me running and stopping to take photos. But hey, they do say that imitation is the highest form of flattery, right?

Baños

I’m writing this whilst trying to block out the squelches, screams and crunches of another horrifically violent, badly dubbed film being played to a bus load of families. Today, it’s a bus from Baños and I’m heading back to Quito.

As I had mentioned, I decided to opt out of running in Baños due to my gammy foot. I did however do a post-worthy hike up from Baños into the mountains above, to ‘the swing off the edge of the world’, locally known as ‘El Casa del Arbol’; ‘The Tree House’.

Baños is pleasantly cool compared to out last few stops, Guyaquil and Canoa. So a 3/4 hour hike into the mountains seemed pretty manageable. After fuelling up at breakfast I bought some treats for the journey and me and my mum and set off together.

The first stretch of the walk took us to Bellavista, the old South American favourite, a religious symbol overlooking a great view of the town. Baños has a large cross from which we enjoyed impressive views of the little town in the mountains, just below the clouds.

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We met a Canadian family around here and walked with them for the rest of the way. The route took us up many muddy paths, through farm land and forest. There were lots of strange and interesting plants to take in, including these polka-dot trees.

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After around 3 and a half hours walking we had made it up to El Casa del Arbol and paid our one dollar entrance fee. The area consisted of a field housing the treehouse and swings, a small zip wire and a restaurant. It in the middle of the clouds and we were unable to see the mountains and vast volcano which we knew surrounded us. We sat down for a choclo con queso for lunch and watched the other tourists going for the money shot on one of the two swings which fly out over the side of the mountain.

After our leisurely lunch, the clouds were beginning to lift and the surrounding mountains were peeking through. Mum had strict instructions as photographer and I took my turn at swinging ‘off the edge of the world’. I was happy we had hung around for a little while as the views from our vantage point at 2660m altitude were beautiful. We opted for a taxi ride back down to town, but only after I bought one of these giant seed pods for 50 cents. It’s called guaba and after breaking it open you eat the slightly furry white flesh which surrounds the big black seeds inside.

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On descending into town, the festivities for New Years Eve were well under way. Many of the shops and homes outide had their effigies ready for burning at midnight. This tradition is called año viejo; old year, where celebrities and characters from the previous year are burned at midnight. Other traditions include men dressing up as women and stopping traffic for money, wearing yellow underwear for good luck, and lots of masks. The town was buzzing that night and complete with fox mask and yellow knickers, I partied like an Ecuadorian until the early hours.

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The sun blazes pinky orange, setting over the Pacific Ocean around 6:30 every evening in Canoa. So at 6pm yesterday I decided to head out for what will probably be my final coastal run in Ecuador. Barefoot, I headed South down the beach, away from the town (watching out for spiky shells).

Canoa’s long, long beach is home to a variety of creatures (seabirds, vultures, weird wriggly worms, snails…). But my favourite has to be the hundreds of bright red crabs who wile away their days digging little holes in the sand and then standing guard halfway out of said hole. In the five days I spent in Canoa, playing a game of chicken with these little guys; seeing how long they would stare you out before they plopped down into their den, never got old. It certainly made the first km or so of my run fly by. Then I found a sorry little crab flailing and stuck in his little hole which had caved in with the incoming tide. Ungratefully, he pinched me when I tried to save him but I think maybe his eyes had been pecked off so he was having a pretty rough day and I couldn’t really blame him for being bad company.

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After 20 minutes or so running the sun was almost down and the light was dying so I turned back to the hotel. Unfortunately my camera isn’t the best so didn’t really capture the colours and beauty of the sunset to its full effect.

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I really enjoyed my stay in Canoa, I’ve left now and am writing this on the bus to Guayaquil. It was a great place to keep active (swimming, surfing, volleyball, football, walking and of course running), without paying for expensive day trips or activities. Compared to cities and towns (think Mindo’s driveways/Quito’s altitude), beach running really is a no brainier; beautiful, super easy navigation and best friends with hench legs! What’s not to love?

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Christmas: if not family, then what is it all about? Celebrating the birth of Christ maybe. But for me, mostly family. And despite largely being a solo traveller, at one with the open road and nothing else, I was lucky enough to have a (partial) family Christmas. That part of my family would be my mum, who has travelled to Ecuador to spend a few weeks of the festive season with me. Not only am I lucky enough to have a mum happy to travel with me, she is also up for running with me. Our Christmas Day was far from traditional and began with an early morning run on the beach together.

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Awoken bright and early by la madre, clearly the tables have turned since the days I was up before the crack of dawn on Christmas Day, desperate to get stuck in to my stocking. After a not so early night on the tiles (sand), it took a few nudges and some persuasion before I was up and ready to go. Aside from the rum-head, I was slightly battered and bruised from a surf lesson the day before. I had also trodden on a ridiculously spiky shell and still had (have) some pieces of the little bastard in my left heel. Undeterred(ish), we hit the beach.

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It was early morning and thus cool enough to enjoy a run out of the searing equatorial sunshine. The sky was cloudy but bright and it was shaping up to be a glorious day; a world away from the chilly Christmas the rest of my family were enjoying back in the UK. The beach was already gently buzzing with people enjoying walks, runs and even some swims to kick off their Christmas Day. Barefoot running on the beach, the sea lapping at my toes, is probably one of my favourite ways to start any day. I wonder how I could incorporate it into the usual festive traditions back home. After a brisk and refreshing run we returned to the hotel to exchange our gifts. No stocking for Rosa this year!

Later in the day we headed into Canoa for our Christmas dinner (ceviche, beer and ice cream). The beach was alive and singing with hoardes of families enjoying their Christmas in the sun. It was lovely to see an alternative to the traditions back home and to have my mum there. Nevertheless I couldn’t help but look forward to Christmas next year, with all of my family. And lots of cheese and wine.

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