Cuando te Encontro? Ahora!

Our first week in Quito was perhaps as un-touristy, and for many people perhaps un-pleasant as any on our trip.

We spent the majority of it at the dentist or heading to/from her office.  I'd been planning on having a crown done for a molar I'd had a root canal on back in NZ, and Sarah needed a second look at her mouth after breaking a tooth while sailing up the Amazon.

Our dentist, Idiana, was super nice  and professional and did a great job of making sure we were happy and comfortable.  After a look at our chompers, and a very thorough cleaning of both of our teeth, she made me a new night guard (to prevent damage when I grind my teeth at night) and had a fancy zirconium crown made for my tooth.

Sarah, meanwhile got a full mouth x-ray done.  As it turned out, in addition to her one broken wisdom tooth, two others were badly decayed and Idiana suggested that the best bet was just to remove the lot.

We expanded our dental tourism beyond Idiana's office with visits to the radiology lab for Sarah's x-rays and to a pharmacy to buy her pain medication, THEN a visit to a walk-in clinic to have her intramuscular injection of said medication.  The whole process was impressively organized and smooth. Collect a number at reception. When called pay ($3!), head upstairs and wait for your number to appear on the TV screen, telling you which consulting room to head to. A quick stab in the bum with a new single use syringe and we were in a taxi back to the Secret Place.

While Sarah had very limited pain and swelling compared to many who undergo wisdom tooth removals, it wasn't as though she didn't suffer: she had to refrain from fatty foods and all dairy products (including cheese!) for a week!

We did do a few fun things as well, of course.  We visited a couple of breweries in the bar-packed La Mariscal neighborhood, joining Quiteños at the pub on their final Friday before Christmas.  The beer had neither the highs nor the lows of Cuenca. A German-themed bierhalle (I liked it because it was pretty much all traditional German styles, but not a Helles or Pilsner amongst them.  Altbier, Kölsch, Hefeweizen and a hoppy Bock). And an American style (both in terms of the decor and beer styles) brewpub. Neither produced any badly faulted brews, but most had niggling issues and none was really great.  To tell the truth, the only reason to drink these beers instead of Ecuador's entirely serviceable mass-produced continental pilsner was for a bit of a change.

And in between appointments we actually skipped town, heading to the beautiful (if thoroughly gringo infested) village of Mindo.

It began its rise from sleepy backwater to tourism hotspot as a destination for birdwatchers, it's position in the cloud forest of the western slope of the Andes making it a home to heaps of rare and beautiful species.  But since then it's added zip lines, tree canopy walks and even tubing down the river to the tourist menu. Not to mention plenty of vegetarian fare at the restaurants that line the plaza and main street. We did a veggie burger taste test over our two nights.  Both had quinoa patties. One was “gourmet” with cacao honey and avocado, while the other was a more traditional burger with mustard lettuce, tomato and cheese. I reckon that the trad-burger was my winner.

Eating burgers wasn't, of course, the main reason for our visit.  We'd been stymied in three previous attempts to see Andean Cocks of the Rock.  Sarah absolutely loved their Guyanian cousins and was determined to complete the set by seeing the second species in person.

We even wrote a song about it:

“Cock of the Rock, can't wait to meet ya.

Cock of the Rock, how will I greet ya?

Cock of the Rock, you're such a handsome creature,

Oh you Cock of the Rock!”

“Gallo de Peña, cuando te encontro?

Gallo de Peña, como te saludo?

Gallo de Peña, mas guapo en el mundo,

Oooh Gallo de Peña!”

We almost thought we were going to miss out again! The day we arrived we visited some our companies and asked about the possibility of arranging a tour to see 'em and were quoted a price of USD110!  I though that Sarah needed some cheering up in anticipation of her surgery, and it was one of the few things on her “really want to see/do” list for South America, so I was willing to suck it up and pay whatever was necessary but (in an unusual reversal of roles), she balked at the cost.

In the end we managed to arrange something on our own, just stopping at the main crossroads and chatting with a taxi driver, asking if he knew of a place to see the birds.

He chatted a bit with his compatriots and soon we had a plan to be picked up and driven out to the Lek (display spot for male birds) at 05:30 (later revised to 05:00!) the next morning.

The ridiculously early wake-up turned out to be all worthwhile.  We stopped to pick up a birding guide (which we hadn't realized was part of what we'd negotiated!) and met one other birder before walking 600m through very dark pasture, then jungle, arriving at the lek before sunrise.

And there they were, in all their glory.  Much louder and more raucous than their Guyanian cousins.  They're also shyer, so the closest we saw them was maybe 30m away.  But it was still plenty close to see their brilliant orange bodies and mohawk crests and to see the dark “trousers” that distinguish them from their orange, fluffy bummed eastern relatives.

Having the birding guide along was definitely worthwhile, as he taught us some cool Cock of the Rock facts:

There are about 3,300 living Andean Cocks of the Rock, but only about 300 of these are the Ecuadorian subspecies.

Cocks of the Rock can live to about seventy years old in the wild, but only lay eggs once every five years or so!

Groups of males guard the nests and chicks, even of unrelated birds.  It's apparently not uncommon to see fifteen or so brilliant orange male CotRs chasing off a falcon that gets too close to a nest!

The guide had brought along a telescope and binoculars so we could get a better view of our quarry, and was fascinated to see our photos of the Guianian Cocks of the Rock near Kaieteur Falls.

I think the other birder thought we were kinda weirdos as she was just at the start of a full day tour, while Sarah and I were just heading straight home after our early morning lek visit.  When a birder thinks you're weird you're definitely doing something… not sure whether it's something right or something wrong, but definitely something.

Back in town, our primary objective completed, we could spend the rest of the day listening to the rain on the roof of our charming wooden guesthouse while we sat on the balcony in hammocks reading and watching the brilliant orange and green hummingbirds and scores of egrets that came to visit.

With all of our dental work and out of town trips behind us, we spent the 22nd of December prepping for the arrival of my family from Canada. It was largely due to the family holiday that we had decided on South America as a destination for these four months of our travels.  So it was exciting that the time had arrived.

The first few days in Quito were wonderful.  We got settled in our Airbnb, did some food shopping for the whole crew. I even baked a gingerbread house in lieu of decorating the place!  We were joined by nine members of my immediate family, ranging from my eighteen month old niece to my soon to be seventy dad.

The family spent one day strolling through town and taking the gondola up to 4100m high Pichinca volcano.  The clouds obscured the views out over the snow-capped giants to the south and east, but it was still really fun, partly because of the views of the city itself, sprawling down 1000m below, partly just because of the fun of doing it with family and partly because it's exactly the sort of thing that Sarah and I never do when travelling on our own.

Similarly, when we went out to the huge, beautifully managed and very busy Parque Carolina on the final Sunday before Christmas, we loved wandering around with everyone, trying (and watching them try) exotic (and not so exotic) snacks from the vendors (cevichocho: steamed corn and heaps of toppings prepared like Ceviche, really tasty looking hot dogs and cotton candy).  We even took the pedal boats out on the lagoon (while letting my four year old nephew Desmond steer, it became abundantly clear why children aren't allowed to have drivers licenses).

Back at our temporary home, we reveled in its comforts.  Doing heaps of laundry in an actual machine. Watching pre-Christmas football with my BiL Greg.  Cooking the sorts of meals you can reply only do at home with family (roasted chickens and potatoes, quinoa and lentil stew…).  Decorating (and later dismantling) the gingerbread house. And on Christmas Eve, handing out the little gifts we'd prepared for everyone (happy to have that weight an volume out of my pack, I can tell you!)  We almost immediately “borrowed” my mom's gift, a bottle of Pisco from Peru to make a big jug of Pisco Sours for everyone. It was a long way from home, but it was still a very happy family Christmas.

But the highlight of the trip was very much still yet to come. On Christmas morning, we all jammed ourselves into a minivan to head out to the airport for our flight to the Galapagos Islands, Ecuador's premier tourist destination and a place that, almost thirty years earlier, was the setting for some of the best travel memories of my life.