The Quilotoa Loop: Hiking between Andean Villages

The Quilotoa Loop

‘Quilotoa Loop’ is the name given to a multi-day trip from village to village in the Ecuadorian Andes. It rewards those who take the sketchy bus rides and complete the hikes with breathtaking views of a volcanic crater lake and a glimpse of everyday life in Ecuador’s highland villages. Thinking that this would be good cardiovascular training and acclimatization for a couple of high altitude climbs I had planned, I left Quito on February 18^th for Latacunga, which was where I’d begin the loop.

City of Latacunga & the start of the loop

The first leg of the journey involved a three-hour bus ride to Isinliví. The driver, who was preoccupied with his novia and phone as he negotiated the numerous switchbacks cut into the mountainsides, coupled with the numerous crucifixes lining the road, put us on edge the whole way. But we made it to the sleepy village of Isinliví in one piece. The cobble-stone streets were empty. There were no pubs or restaurants, nor were there grocery stores. There was one woman in town with internet connection who was willing to share it, but supposedly it wasn’t strong enough to open your e-mail. Underscoring the quaint nature of Isinliví was a map of the town found at Hostal Llullu Llama, in which every home was labeled with titles such as the ‘Italians’, after the Italian expats who made wooden furniture, and ‘Helena’s Mum’, who I could only guess was the mother of some lady named Helena…

The sleepy town of Isinlivií

Map of Isinliví

Hostal Llullu Llama

The next day we hiked to Chugchilan. The trail wasn’t physically challenging, but it was a challenge to navigate; the trail was not only used to connect the towns of Isinliví and Chugchilan, but also had numerous branches used by the locals to get to their homes and farms. We climbed over mountains, followed rivers, crossed pastures and encountered a couple of tiny towns along the way. Chugchilan was a little bit more lively than Isinliví and so I decided to see what was around. Walking down the street I noticed a large pig struggling in an alleyway and what I thought looked like blood spilling down the cement walkway. As I neared this same alleyway on my way back to Hostal Cloud Forest I noticed the scent of burning hair. I had no doubt about it, the pig was being slaughtered. I explained to the family that I’ve never seen an animal being butchered and I asked if I could come in to watch, with which they had no problem.

Hiking through pastures on the way to Chugchilan

Small Andean village on the way to Chugchilan

Andean Escuela

Chugchilan

The hike to Quilotoa proved tougher than we had anticipated. After hiking for a few hours and gaining several hundred metres of elevation we arrived to the rim of Volcán Quilotoa. The elevation gain put us right in the clouds and, unfortunately, we didn’t have the best view of the crater lake. We decided to head into town to spend the night at Hosteria Alpaca Quilotoa and save the hike around the rim of the volcano for the next morning when there would be better visibility. But we made a wrong turn; we didn’t read the full instructions and instead of staying within the crater, we descended the outside. There were a few clues that should’ve put us back on the right track: first, the trail we were taking was full of switchbacks and our map showed a straight trail to Quilotoa; second, we passed a sign for Quilotoa indicating that it was 3.5 km in the opposite direction; and, finally, we passed a sign for Guayama San Pedro, a town we had passed a couple of hours earlier. Due to the poor visibility brought on by the clouds, it took us an hour to realize we had come down the same route we had ascended! Fortunately, by the time we climbed back up to the volcano the clouds had somewhat cleared and we had a great view of the lake.

Laguna Quilotoa

Poor visibility at Volcán Quilotoa

Crater lake of Volcán Quilotoa

The final stretch of the Quilotoa Loop involved a bus ride back to Latacunga. We got a ride to Zumbahua from which we could catch a bus. We arrived right as they were loading up sheep on the roof of the bus. As we started driving along the winding roads we could hear the steps of the sheep as they tried to maintain their balance, but they couldn't always do so...

Loading up some extra passengers on the roof

Sharp turn

Hiking from Andean village to Andean village along the Quilotoa Loop proved to be a great experience. I had a chance to interact with the locals, got a glimpse of everyday life in the Ecuadorian highlands, and saw some beautiful views along the way. I can only hope that the exercise and acclimatization also helps me in my attempts at the summits of the Ilinizas and Cotopaxi next week.

The Otavalo Market

Otavalo, home to Ecuador's infamous market

Just a few hours from the Colombian border, nestled between several volcanoes in the Ecuadorian Andes, Otavalo is home to South America's largest outdoor market. I decided to arrive to Otavalo a couple of days shy of the infamous Saturday market to give myself time to brush up on my bargaining skills - I needed to be at the top of my game in order to fulfill my goal of spending as little money as possible to replace my beachwear with some warm clothing suited for the high altitude of the Andes.

Saturday February 15^th was game day. I woke early in the morning to catch the animal market which was held at the outskirts of town. Indigenous Ecuadorians proudly wore their traditional clothing as they flocked to the market to sell and buy everything from guinea pigs to horses. Puppies ran for as little as $2 US and cows for $500 US.

Animal market

Satisfied customer

As tempted as I was to purchase some livestock, Plaza de los Ponchos was where I'd put my bargaining skills to the test. Here countless artisans flooded the main square and spilled into the side-streets to sell colourful textiles, ponchos, sweaters and scarves. After several hours of searching and bargaining I walked away with a scarf and two sweaters hand-made from alpaca wool. While admittedly more than I intended to buy, it only set me back $38 US!

Artisan market in Plaza de los Ponchos

Food market

With fresh vegetables from the food market, wool sweaters from the artisan market and funny memories from the animal market, I returned to Hostería Rose Cottage to finish off the day with a stir-fry, a bottle of wine and a view for the books.

On the way to Rose Cottage

The view

Salento: A Coffee Aficionado's Wonderland

My hellish, forty hour journey from the deserts of La Guajira (A) to the rolling hills of the Zona Cafetera (B)

It was a nightmare. Forty hours to travel the 1400 kms from Cabo de la Vela to the Zona Cafetera. I woke before dawn on February 3^rd to take down my tent; suffered a bone-rattling ride through the desert of La Guajira in sweltering heat; was unexpectedly dropped off at the side of a freeway near Santa Marta; endured the unrelenting air-conditioning of an overnight bus; navigated the metro of Medellín; and managed to suppress my restlessness - brought on by a combination of long travel and a diet consisting of caffeine and snacks - for another couple of bus rides before finally arriving to Salento in the dead of night and, of course, the midst of a downpour. But being the coffee aficionado that I am, my trip to Colombia would have been incomplete without a visit to the Zona Cafetera, Colombia's coffee region.

As I woke the next morning in the warmth of my sleeping bag and peered out the fly of my tent I instantly knew that the hellish journey was not done in vain. Below was a river that cut through the valley of the rolling green hills of the Zona Cafetera. The cool air smelt of blossoming flowers and freshly cut grass. I put on wool socks, pants, a fleece and a toque before braving the cold and walking over to claim my complimentary breakfast, which sold me on La Serrana.

La Serrana was a ranch-style hostel about a twenty minute walk from town. The hacienda was lined with windows providing breath-taking views of the surrounding gardens and hills. The inside was decorated with antique type-writers, saddles, microphones and cow hides. It was the perfect place to escape the rain or cold and waste away the hours reading or in conversation while enjoying a glass of wine.

Salento was a charming town in the Zona Cafetera. As I walked up the steep hills of town lined with colourfully painted buildings, the aroma of fresh ground coffee and vino caliente drew me out from the chilly weather and into the shelter of the cafés. The cafés had loads of character and generally used vintage cash registers and espresso machines that took up to eight minutes to brew a cappuccino. Despite the dated equipment, the coffee was among the best I've ever had.

The cafés weren't the only things in Salento that were seemingly stuck in the past. The locals wore traditional sombreros and wool ponchos to ward off the cold, and horseback was the preferred mode of transportation. And when in the 'wild west', why not do how the cowboys do?

I got a horse. I've always been a little weirded out by these animals, but after a few words of advice they were easy to handle. I crossed deep rivers, climbed incredibly steep and muddy pitches and galloped at full speed through fields. This definitely fostered in me a new found respect for their power and endurance.

Valle de Cocora

Burundanga

Coffee Berries

Drying coffee beans

Tejo

Other than relaxing, Salento had a few other interesting things to offer. I spent a day hiking through the Valle de Cocora where I saw the world's tallest palm trees, the wax palms, as well as the source of the 'world's scariest drug', burundanga; took a tour of a family-run coffee plantation and learned about how the berries are picked, fermented, dried and finally roasted; and tried my hand at a traditional Colombian game involving beer and gunpowder, 'tejo'.

Colombia, its been a blast. Next stop, Ecuador!

Cabo de la Vela: Where the Desert meets the Sea

La Guajira has a reputation akin to that of the Wild West of the United States. It was earned by the Wayuu who were unique among the indigenous groups of Colombia for having used horses and firearms to ward off the Spaniards in the 1700s. The northernmost point of South America, La Guajira Peninsula has for one reason or another remained off the well-beaten gringo trail. All I knew was that it was remote, the land arid and the views breathtaking. And with that, I was determined to see it for myself.

La Guajira is outlined in pink. The journey from Santa Marta (A), through Riohacha (B) and Uribia (C), to the fishing town of Cabo de la Vela (D).

On January 31^st I set out for Cabo de la Vela on the western coast of La Guajira Peninsula. Its 'Wild West'-like nature began to present itself during the bus ride from Santa Marta to Riohacha, the capital of La Guajira. As we approached Riohacha, cactus-studded plains replaced the jungle-covered mountains of the Sierra Nevada; tanks and soldiers were stationed along the road more and more frequently; and smuggled Venezuelan gas was sold for cheap all along the roadside. From Riohacha I had to take a colectivo to Uribia as no public buses ran further north. There I was immediately swarmed by what must have been half a dozen locals who were grabbing me by the arms and backpack, each hoping that he would have the opportunity to overcharge me for a ride to Cabo - i.e. to reap the benefits of the gringo tax. After fighting off the locals, relieved to find my wallet and camera still in my pockets, I chose a truck and waited as it was loaded up with supplies and people. And that is when the real adventure began.

Wayuu woman with her child

We drove down a bumpy and dusty road, past remnants of de-railed trains, before we pulled off into the desert. We stopped periodically to pick-up both cargo that flew off the truck and people who stood under the scorching sun waiting for a lift. Once we ran out of space within the bed of the pick-up truck, no problem, there was always space on the roof for more! As people were dropped off at their small huts in the middle of the desert, I found myself wondering how the hell these people entertained themselves.

The answer came four hours later, when I had my first glimpse of Cabo de la Vela. It was a fishing village just metres from the turquoise sea where the Wayuu welcomed tourists into their homes. If hungry I would ask one of the families what they had for dinner, which was invariably fresh seafood. While one can stay with a local family in one of their hammocks, I opted to pay a modest 5000 pesos ($2.50 US) per night to camp on the beach. Here I had a front row seat to watch the major pass-time of the village, kite-surfing.

Strong off-shore winds almost everyday of the year, coupled with the protection of the bay, make Cabo a kite-surfing mecca. The local kids were unbelievable at kiting and tried to convince me to try. Worried about getting blown out to sea, they attempted to reassure me by telling me that they could tie me to a rope with which they could pull me back to shore if anything went wrong. As tempted as I was, I decided to hold-off.

Since I didn't kite-surf, the only thing left for me to do was to explore the desert. And so, I put on my headphones, blasted some Eddie Vedder and walked 'into the wild'.

Pílon de Azúcar

View from Cerro Kamachi

Salt flat

Ojo de Agua

View from El Faro