With all the late night beach activity, late starts are the thing in in Atacames, and 15th December was no exception…. a leisurely breakfast on the little balcony at the hotel, doing some reading, writing my diary. Eventually my fellow travellers started appearing. At Atacames, for some reason that nobody seemed able to explain (and certainly not mind about) people’s names were discarded in favour of Nationality nicknames. I was “England”, Cesco was “Holland”. A guy by the name of Russ was “Denmark”. There were several people called “Germany” (the large ones who had shared the train roof). These nicknames were particularly popular with “Ireland” who used them whenever he possibly could.

Denmark, Holland, and the Germany’s, had decided to try to improve on the already successful late night beach party concept, by organising a beach barbecue that evening. Denmark had acquired a new local girlfriend some time in the previous 24 hours, and she was able to help a bit with logistics.

I had decided to head to Quito the next day, so took advantage of the Pacific Ocean one last time. I had read that not much further south the Humboldt Current coming up from the Antarctic keeps the sea cold. Later a Swiss guy started telling me about visiting the Himalayas, which got me wondering if I will have time to do that while in India. It sounds like something that I absolutely shouldn’t miss…

Then we gathered for the Barbecue, which was very informal. There was plenty to drink and everyone had plenty. Denmark’s new girlfriend had brought a couple of her friends. Meanwhile someone discovered that Denmark didn’t actually know the name of his girlfriend, a fact which he then wasn’t allowed to forget! The drinks improved everyone’s language ability, and I found myself speaking what sounded to me like fluent Spanish with a girl from the southern Ecuadorian city of Guayaquil. She evidently had decided that her idea of fun was to hang out on the beach with foreign travellers, and seemed to have no intention of leaving me alone once she found my Spanish was “fluent”. I did finally escape back to the hotel, and wondered who she switched her attention to after I left!

Next morning (16th December) I somehow made it up and out at a reasonable time and caught a noisy local bus to Esmeraldas and from there began the 6 hour bus ride to Quito along winding roads that were well provisioned with potholes.

In Ecuadorian buses, like Colombian buses, there is evidently no way to escape from listening repeatedly to one particular song, which I’ve heard so many times I’m growing to hate. I’m told it’s called “El la Engaño”, by “Natusha”, a Venezuelan singer who I would cheerfully strangle after a gazillion hours on a rattling bus with her latest hit blaring out. This sound clip of the song totally represents the audio backdrop of many, many hours rattling through Colombia and Ecuador, the last week and a half:

Part way through the journey to Quito, something rather significant happened. I crossed a certain line… I am now in the Southern Hemisphere where I will be for the next 5 months!

Closer to Quito I got talking to the man sitting next to me, who told me he was a surgeon from Quito. I spoke to him alternately in English and Spanish. He kindly invited me to come to his apartment to meet his family and have dinner, which I duly did. After eating I spent a little while teaching some English to his young son. Then I got a bus down to the centre of Quito and checked in to the “Gran Gringo” hotel, where all the backpackers stay. Or what I thought was the Gran Gringo hotel…

In the morning (17th December) I realised that the hotel I’d checked into wasn’t in fact the Gran Gringo. The sign was rather confusing. After breakfast I moved hotels, to the real Gran Gringo, and while doing so met once again Yossi and Yoram – the 2 Israelis from the Volcano trek.

I went for a wander, posted some mail at the main post office, then went up the Panecillo hill to see if there was a view of Cotopaxi or any other Ecuadorian volcanos which are supposedly visible on a clear day. But it was too cloudy to see any distant peaks.

After taking a couple of photos in the old city centre, I headed back to the Gran Gringo for lunch. I got talking to an interesting New Zealander cyclist called Bruce who had some stories to tell – he is the first person who I have met on this trip who is travelling by bike.

Later I went to the AeroPeru office to sort out my travel in Peru. Due to current guerilla activity by the Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path) it is not safe for foreigners to travel by road in many areas of Peru. I have therefore decided to fly from the north of Peru to Lima, and from there to Cuzco – it is supposed to be safer in the more touristy areas of Cuzco, Machu Picchu and Lake Titicaca where there is a greater military and police presence.

In the evening back at Gran Gringo, I got talking to a British traveller called Kate, who later invited me to join her and some others to go to an expat bar in the new area of the city. It was a gathering in honour of someone’s birthday, with prepaid drinks, and the wine flowed freely until the early hours when we all got a taxi back to the hotel. I felt a little the worse for wear – and probably should have drunk a bit less.

That said… I can’t complain about the level of social activity in Ecuador. The boring and lonely evenings in Mexico now seem a distant memory!