Ecuador – down into the Amazon!

After three days of relaxation, coffee and cake in Banos we once again packed our bags onto our bicycles and headed east, dropping down into the Amazon. It’s mainly downhill to start with as we cycle down the ‘Ruta de Cascadas’ with apparently seven huge waterfalls. In the heavy rain there are far more than seven! But it’s an impressive if touristy route, at each waterfall there’s the usual cafes, bungee jumping set up or canyoning advertised. The water cascading from the waterfalls is immense and very loud. We drop down about 500m and it’s suddenly very warm and humid. The waterproof jackets come off despite the rain, as either way in this humid heat you either get wet with sweat or wet with rain!

Eventually the rain does stop and the heat feels intense, something I haven’t really felt since somewhere in Colombia. It’s a good feeling, and as the cloud constantly comes and goes for the rest of the day it feels good to be in the ‘easy warmth’ once again. Down here you don’t have to worry about whether you’ve put your fleece jacket at the top of your bag to be easily accessible at short notice, or your down jacket close by for emergencies. We eventually arrive at Puyo, a large town on the edge of the Amazon, where the road forks north and south. We stop for a chocolate banana, our new favourite desert which is basically a frozen banana covered in chocolate, but it really works! We’re both feeling good so we decide to carry on south as it’s only 2pm. The road south is quiet with little traffic. Fifteen miles later we’re starting to tire and with a sudden heavy downpour having us running for cover, we decide it’s time to stop for the day. Following a link to a potential camping spot at what we think is a finca two miles away, we drop downhill for a few miles and a steep descent down a track leads us to what looks like a very posh spa retreat! There’s an undercover restaurant, beautiful garden, and an infinity pool which, looking down towards the Amazon, really does feel like it’s authentically infinite!

Feeling slightly underdressed but having committed to a downhill steep descent so late in the day, we park our bicycles and tentatively ask a member of staff if there’s a possibility of camping the night. There’s an exchange of words between staff and we’re invited to sit in the outdoor restaurant. We’re bought fresh juice and some ‘spanglish’ conversation goes on in which we think were told to wait. It’s a very relaxing space with views looking straight down into the Amazon so we don’t mind. The clouds shift as the evening colours change from greyish blue to reddish purple, birds sing loudly and insects join in with the chorus, not wanting to be left out. Eventually another member of staff comes over and says camping shouldn’t be a problem, but the manager is busy if we can wait, and would we like coffee in the meantime. Of course we do!

Eventually the manager comes over and shows us around, he says they don’t normally allow camping but as we’re here and it’s late he’ll find us a space. He shows us around and it really is heaven, I’d be tempted to ask for a room but I’ve already had a quick look on booking.com and it $175 per night for a double room with shared bathroom! He offers us a space under a canopy with two huge swinging chairs with soft cushions, we’re by a pond and there’s a fire pit, it’s perfect. We pitch the tent and enjoy the sounds of the animals in the jungle come alive as it gets dark. At some point something big and fast darts towards us and under the swinging chairs we’re sitting on. In the dusk setting my imagination runs wild and I think it’s a giant tarantula sitting underneath the chairs waiting patiently. Chris says it’s probably a monkey and not to be silly, although he’s shuffling about a bit and banging the chairs to disturb whatever it was enough so that he doesn’t have to do any heroic acts like squat down with a head torch to see if it’s gone!

The following morning we wake up to heavy rain, and this continues for most of the day. Jackets on and heads down we cycle south, passing small villages with dirt tracks, wooden houses on mini stilts and lots of raging rivers. Sometime in the afternoon it finally stops raining and the sun burns away some of the cloud. The birds start to sing, butterflies float in and out of the bushes, and it’s lovely to see the various glistening greens of the various plants and grasses. The road undulates, reminding us the Amazon certainly isn’t flat! We’re also still not far from volcanoes, and as I cycle along, to my west as the clouds lift a bit, I can see tiny bits of what I think may be Volcan Sangay. At 5286m high, it’s one of the most active volcanoes in Ecuador and has been smouldering away for weeks. From Macas apparently on a clear night you can see the plumes of smoke in the distance. It’s a long day and our aim is to reach Macas, a city on the edge of the Amazon. I’m flagging at 55 miles but I’m determined to cycle another 10miles to Macas, where I know there’ll be a soft bed, nice food and maybe even some wine. The alternative is to stop earlier in one of the small villages and camp under a sports hall! Keep cycling.

We eventually arrive at Macas at 6pm, it’s going dark but it’s atmospheric with the pink sky. We find a hotel, shower, and head out to find food. We find a pizzeria and eat the largest veggie pizza on offer, along with a glass of wine. I’m not normally a pizza person but I’ve been craving pizza lately and this more than satisfies my need. The next morning we pack our bags and are just about to leave when we look at each others tired faces and ask ourselves whether we should be spending another day resting in Macas. We’re getting better at communicating our needs to each other, and also not putting ourselves under pressure to cycle for days and days with no rest. We decide to stay, and unpack our bags!

We wander slowly around Macas, it’s more a relaxed Amazonian town rather than a bustling city, but surprisingly there’s plenty of good coffee shops which we spend the day eating and drinking in. I feel really hungry and still feel in deficit from my recent stomach bug. We eat pizza again that night, and ice cream, something else I wouldn’t normally eat, but find myself enjoying! It feels good to take a day off to do very little, relaxing in a coffee shop with good coffee, sitting in the park in the afternoon sun enjoying an ice cream.

The following day the sun is shining as we pack our bags and this time we do actually leave! We keep heading south, again the road undulates, but it’s quiet. We drop down to 600m, an altitude we haven’t been at for some time, and I’d forgotten how hot and humid it could feel down here! But there’s fruit trees everywhere, banana trees, coconut palms, orange trees, sugar cane, papaya trees and we even spot some cacao trees with huge red cacao beans. It’s amazing to see so much growing freely. Wooden houses on stilts again, some colourfully painted and others just wood, we cross rivers, we look down into deep gorges, I listen to the birds and insects busy with their day, rivers running over boulders. It’s a really beautiful ride, the sky is blue and I look up at tall silver trees with red and orange flowers shining bright against the deep blue sky behind. It’s beauty fills my soul and I start to feel like I’m really enjoying the journey again. I’m grateful once again for this ride.

The following day is a complete contrast! In the morning we drop down to 500m, the lowest we’ll get on our Amazonian journey, and cross a river before starting a long steep climb back up the other side. Of course it starts raining so it’s a ‘heads down and carry on cycling’ type of day. But the roads are steep with many landslides due to the heavy rain, and our legs ache with so much weight on the bike. In the afternoon we climb another steep long hill and eventually arrive at a town wedged in a v-shaped valley with a river running through it, called Limon. We find a hotel to dry off in and the rain stops and the sun suddenly comes out. What a difference it makes!

The following day our first seven miles out of Limon starts up a steep relentless hill up to Plan de Milagro before descending down into a beautiful winding valley and then undulating alongside the river until we reach San Juan Bosco, another small town wedged between a narrow valley. I was dreading the ascent but I felt strangely energised in the morning and with an interesting podcast in my ears I managed to climb the winding hill without complaining too much! Chris, however, is very quiet, and my attempts to ask him if he’s ok don’t get me very far. At San Juan Bosco, after realising it’s too late in the day to carry on further, especially as there’s another big hill in front of us, we stop at a restaurant for a late lunch. There’s little conversation again, but he seems very low and full of anger. The last few days there’s been a few occasions where we’ve been ‘overcharged’ for things, this morning we paid $4.50 for two instant coffees and and omelette which would normally cost half the amount. The same has happened in some of the veg shops, and so when Chris pays for lunch he once again feels he’s been overcharged, there’s an exchange of words and then he pays and walks out. Of course I know none of this as I’ve been in the toilet, until I hear his loud shout ‘Robbers’ at the poor old lady that’s just made our lunch! I say an embarrassing ‘Gracias’ and slink out if the door, suggesting we head to the undercover stadium where we’re thinking of staying the night.

We have a good chat, connection with the local people is very important to Chris and we’ve both felt a lack of connection through parts of the Amazon. I wonder if they see us as a threat, with so much of the indigenous land being taken over without any consideration for the local people. But I also think we’ve been tired and less engaging with people, in Colombia everybody was so friendly and almost always the first to smile and start a conversation it was easy. In Ecuador they generally seem more reserved and so we have to make the first move to engage, which is fine if you’re feeling great but more of an effort if you’re not. He’s also feeling tired, and has his own doubts about us travelling through the length of Peru within a 3-month period (we only have a maximum of 3 months in any country without applying for a visa). I’m really glad he’s shared his feelings with me as I often feel it’s just me with doubts and reservations.

We pitch our tent in the quiet stadium, with the huge 3000m verdant ‘Pan de Azucar’ mountain, pyramidal like the Matterhorn, overlooking us. It’s a quiet town for a Friday night, and we’re sleeping soundly until 1am when we’re awoken by the very loud sounds of motorbikes in the stadium and loud music! This goes on for at least an hour and a half and then re-starts at 6am! When I drag myself out of the tent I realise 4 bikers have also decided it was a good place to camp overnight! They’re perfectly jolly and all smiles, it seems loud music and little sleep works wonders for the Ecuadoreans, but not for me. Chris is in a much better frame of mind but I’m exhausted and I’m also nursing an embarrassing saddle sore. The thought of cycling over another two high passes with 1500m of climbing really isn’t appealing to me, and I suggest we get a bus over the two passes to the next town. Surprisingly Chris agrees, so that’s what we do. It’s relatively easy to throw the bikes and bags in the bottom of the bus, and $4 and an hour later we’re setting off on our bikes again along a much flatter section. I feel a bit guilty and a bit of a cheat getting the bus, but then question what or who am I actually cheating? Again it crosses my mind the amount of pressure we sometimes put ourselves under, and why. Does it really matter if we don’t cycle the entire length of South America. This is supposed to be fun, and if I’m dreading waking up because I have to painfully cycle 20 miles uphill then it’s ok to once again change our plans and catch a bus. The bus drops us off at Gualaquiza and we head off on our bikes. It’s a short days cycling but it’s sunny and beautiful, once again passing various fruit trees along the way, and enjoying the warm weather.

The following morning we’re both feeling good, the road ahead is relatively flat, and my saddle sore has subsided somewhat! We set off in the sun. It’s day five without a break but we’re making good progress and should be in Loja within two days. I haven’t washed my clothes since leaving Macas, in the Caribe I would normally find a way to wash them most days, it was so hot there wasn’t a problem with them drying overnight. Here, however, it’s so humid nothing really dries at all. At one point I’m waiting outside a Tienda for Chris and I can smell a particularly pungent smell. I look around for the dirty perpetrator but there’s no one there. I tentatively get closer to my left arm pit and realise it’s me!! I’m disgusted with myself. I add ‘must buy new top’ to my to do list for arriving in Loja, along with drinking nice coffee and eating cake!

The road undulates making for an easy 45 mile ride, where we stop once again in a village and look for an undercover stadium. We find one, but it’s full of excited teenagers playing football, and after a few hours of patiently hoping their going to tire and disappear, we give up and cycle off in the dark to look for another safe place. I see a policeman and stop to ask him, hoping he’d offer us a space in the quiet dry police station. He doesn’t, but he suggests a basketball court down the road, which we find and pitch out tent quickly in the dark, before hopping in and falling asleep. It rains in the night and do the tent is drenched through, but I awake to the beautiful sounds of tropical birds singing and chatting away to each other.

We head off and start our two day cycle back up into the Andes to Loja, a green city where way back at the beginning of our Ecuadorean journey we sent some of Chris’ heavy medication to a teacher who also Airbnb’s a room in her house. I’m reminded that there is definitely much Ecuadorean kindness still, as this lady, who we’ve never met, I’ve only exchanged messages with her via Airbnb. Without any hesitation she kindly agreed to receive and look after Chris’ medication until we arrive to stay with her for a few days and pick them up.

We wind uphill once again for 21 miles, from 800m high back up to 1800m, and it’s amazing how quickly we can can go from Amazon rainforest to lowland Andes, the dense forest vegetation gradually gives way to rolling green hills with more farms, deep valleys and lots of waterfalls. The climate also changes and we arrive in the small village of El Tambo and soon I have my long pants and fleece back on, something I haven’t had to do for a while! Along the way we finally hit the 2000 mile marker, we take a selfie to celebrate, it’s not a particularly scenic place to hit 2000miles and it’s raining but all the same it feels an achievement to us. In theory, we’re a quarter of the way to Ushuaia in southern Argentina, although how we actually calculated 8000 miles now I’m actually struggling to remember! Chris finds another undercover sports hall to stay in, we ask the gardener if it’s ok to stay overnight in our tent and he says yes no problem. This one is hopefully quieter as the village is so small so all fingers are crossed! It’s all going well, there’s no one in sight as we cook dinner and eventually we decide it’s safe to pitch the tent. We pitch it in a corner of the hall away from the main light. It’s 8.45pm as we get in and are just nodding off when there are male spanish voices and the lights go on! All of a sudden there’s a loud football match going on around us! I can’t blame them at all, it’s a tiny village and this is their facility after all. I must be exhausted as I somehow manage to drift in and out of sleep between the shouts and the sound of the football hitting the back of the goal! At 10.30pm the games over and we’re finally left in peace.

The next day we pack up and set off, once again uphill for our final climb up and over a 2800m pass before dropping back down into Loja. I’m really looking forward to a few days break in Loja. It’s funny how little things out here become real pleasures. A nice cup of coffee rather than a hot water and a jar of instant coffee being handed to you, a soft bed and a chance to clean some clothes suddenly become real pleasures to look forward to. Even better when you pay to use a public toilet abs you get a handful of soft tissue paper, I try to keep some for my next few visits – like I say, small pleasures!

The climb sets off in the valley and doesn’t feel too bad, but before long the sun has burnt away the cloud and it’s hot, making the climb even harder. I’m in front as we peddle slowly up the relentless hill, but at some point Chris overtakes me. He’s slightly ahead as I battle to keep up, my legs starting to scream at me. He’s constantly turning around to check I’m there, and when he sees a gap he slows down until I’ve caught up, but then he turns around again, sees I’m right behind him and speeds up again, leaving me desperately peddling faster to keep up. This goes on for some time until, in complete frustration and exhaustion, out of nowhere I feel an overwhelming anger rose up inside of me and I can’t help it, between breaths I scream expletives at him. Immediately I hope he hadn’t heard me, after all he’s got his earphones in and I actually feel quite content now I’ve let it all out, but unfortunately he has, as he turns around and says ‘why don’t you go in front then?’ ! Like a red rag to a bull, I shout some more. We have a 5 second evil eye glaring competition before he turns away in disgust and pedals 20 meters behind me, waiting for me to move. I know I should apologise, but the stubborn child in me (I blame my mother!) is still angry, so I set off up the hill, a new angry energy driving me forward. It puts a dampener on reaching the top, as we both put our layers on and descend into Loja in silence.

We cycle through and find the market, it’s vibrant with locals getting lunch (meat dishes of course!), but we find a small kiosk serving green juices and cheese toasties. The mood softens as I realise we’ve made it and have a few days off, and Chris gets some food in his belly, which always makes him happy!

We rest the next few days and plan the next part of our journey. We’ve realised we’re starting to run short on time as we try to follow the seasons South. Peru is a huge and mountainous country and if we want to get through it in time whilst also seeing the highlights and avoiding the Panamericana highway, we’re going to have to take buses part way through. Had someone suggested we could take buses as part of our journey prior to leaving, the purist in me would have laughed and said no. However the reality out here is very different to my perception of cycling through South America. The Andes are beautiful but incredibly tough, some days I feel so exhausted whilst cycling I barely look up to see what’s around me, never mind stopping to engage with the locals and observe their culture, something which is really important to me. Breaking the journey up makes it more manageable and hence more enjoyable, being able to choose some of the highlights in Peru, using public transport when we need to, and spending more time just stopping and enjoying where we are. It feels good, it’s the right decision to make. I want this to be a memorable journey for all the right reasons. So Peru here we come!