Alex's Asian Adventure

Warning: Economic ranting ahead!

Seeing as yesterday I topped out on Illiniza Norte, and tomorrow I'm headig to Cotopaxi, I'm taking a rest day.

I started with breakfast on a patio. Now, there is nothing more satisfying when you're on vacation than a good, lazy breakfast, ourdoors in good weather, and with a funny book to read. And that's what I did. This leads me to something:

Ecuador, as a nation, has seen Supersize Me.

The portions here are enormous. I order a spinach crepe, thinking it'd be a relatively benign choice. Out come not one, but two massive spinache-laden crepes, doused in cheese. Ecuadorians love their cheese a lot more than their coffee, and it shows. Wow. I could barely finish the meal.

Also on this patio, obviously provoked by my laughter at reading Bill Bryson, a local English-speaking youth struck a conversation. This young fellow is 18 years old and studying languages. At 18, he speaks Spanish, Italian, French and of course English. I felt a great shame.

We had a fine chat. This particular young man is not happy with Ecuador's economic development and the presidency of one Rafael Correa. Now, I can see why a Canadian investor in Aurelian Resources would be unhappy with Senor Correa, but a local youth? Interesting. This young man, with no economic training in his past, plainly saw the dangers of alienating some of your biggest trading partners by nationalizing the oil & gas industry and leaving foreign mining firms in a state of limbo. Now, a single unit does not a sample make, but nonetheless this is anecdotal evidence that perhaps the political scene here has not totally galvanized around Correa.

He was also very adamant that the reason he's studying languages now, and the reason he wants to go into an international business program next year, is to leave Ecuador and live elsewhere. He mentioned Europe on the basis of the pretty chicas, but in my mind the ultimate destination doesn't matter. What matters is that this disaffected youth wants to leave on the basis of economic opportunity, and is investing in his (locally paid for) education to further this goal.

It doesn't take a genius to see the issues for the Ecuadorian people and the Correa government. This is not a rich country by any stretch of the imagination. There is a big problem with poverty. And it won't get richer overnight, either. For the government, there is a trade-off between helping the existing poor (with short term aids like massive mineral & energy royalties or outright nationalization of assets) and furthering long-term growth - socialist programs like what Correa is appears to be instituting help the former but in my mind severly undermine the latter, as people say "screw this" and move on to other places.

In first year economics, students are told that there is a trade-off between labour and capital. Students proceed to accept this as rote because it "makes sense". Where it really begins to make sense is when one visits a developing country, say Ecuador, and compare it with a developed country, say Canada. It's obvious to the naked eye the Ecuador has lots of Labour, but not too much Capital, as compared to Canada. There are a lot of people here doing jobs that have very limited value add. For instance, almost every intersection has someone directing traffic, even though there is a perfectly functional light in place. Where in Canada a construction crew busting open concrete would use jackhammers, here you find a gang of tired-looking men with hammers and chisels. And guess what? All these jobs are public-sector jobs. Thank you Senor Correa.

Not all jobs are created equal. Developed countries have relatively few manual labour jobs as compared to developing countries. Why? Because we've replaced a gang of 10 hammer & chisel labourers with a single jackhammer, and freed 9 of those guys to seek other employment. One could say it's cruel, sure, and yet unemployment rates in the developed world are much lower (and employment rates are higher) than in the developing world generally. A developed economy simply can't afford to have 10 guys doing the work of 1 jackhammer. I would argue that a developing economy can't afford it either.

Now, if you're a young man graduating from high school, and you look at your prospects, you might think twice about staying in a country where your prospects could very well include being a traffic-director, or a security guard, or a pavement-chiseller. Understanding these incentives isn't rocket science.

Now, how can Senor Correa take this country from hammer & chisel to jackhammer in anything less than an eternity? It's tough. What the Asian economies did starting in the 60s is invest in education and food production. They also, to this day, jealously guard their economies against highly volatile speculative capital flows, and this is a point worth belabouring.

There is a big difference between foreign direct investment (say, building a mine) and foreign investment in a foreign stock market. The former requires long-term committment, typically creates employment locally, and sends some money to the local government in the form of taxation. The latter is almost wholelly speculative. The former is generally what developing countries strive for. The latter can be, in the case of a developing economy, highly destabilizing and even dangerous. Many countries continue to practice capital controls to guard against speculative (hot money) flows despite being very open to trade; China is a great example - they don't even permit free flow of money between Hong Kong & the mainland!

And if you don't believe me when I say that capital controls can be beneficial, look into what Malaysia did in 1998. Compare their experence to that of, say, Indonesia. When Indonesia was permitting bailouts of Western hot money, Malaysia told the hedge funds to screw off and as a result had half the recession of Indonesia, Thailand, or South Korea. Funny that, eh?

I'll point out that Canada didn't finally abolish major capital controls until 2005, when the 30% foreign ownership cap on registered plans was dismissed as an anachronism. Canada is developed, with mature capital markets, and it took us this long. Makes it hard to argue that capital accounts should be fully liberalized in economies that lack the same level of financial infrastructure and sophistication.

Now, back to Ecuador. What Correa is doing is punishing foreign direct investment. He told the oil industry that the assets they purchased and found oil on are no longer theirs. However, the upgraders and refineries won't build themselves, and since Ecuador is still in the hammer & chisel stage they won't get built by Ecuador either. What infrastructure is in place now is a sunk cost to the Exxons of the world, and they will produce until it's no longer economic for the global oil firms to pump oil or the existing resources run out. Beyond that, nothing will get built. The same is true in mining. And gas. And textiles. And tourism. Why would you invest in Ecuador if you stand a good risk of having your assets expropriated?

Of course, if there is no safety for foreign direct investment, there is definitely no issue with hot money either. Foreigners are too scared to buy anything on the local bolsa - if there is one at all - and locals are hammering and chiselling and have no money to finance speculative enterprises through public equity. If you're an entrepreneur with grand plans and big cojones, you have a problem because the locals have no money, and the foreigners who do won't give you any. If your plan was to replace 10000 hammer & chisellers with 10000 jackhammer-wielding superworkers (same amont of labour, but way more capital!) you're SOL - no matter how lucrative the venure.

It's left to Correa to fund major capital projects. Meanwhile, the entrepreneureal types likely want to leave the country for better opportunities elsewhere.

Unfortunately, the examples of economic liberalization in Latin America seem to be associated with dictatorships. Pinochet is the ultimate reason why Chile grew as fast as it did, for as long as it did - but he wasn't a nice guy by any means. There has to be a middle way. For now, Latin America is in love with socialism, as it was in the 70s, but how long will it last?

This, in a nutshell, is my grievance with socialism in a developing economy.

Enough economic ranting for now.

I spent the rest of the day loitering through town, including an aborted plan to visit the equator - weather and an extended lunch sank those plans. Tomorrow I'm heading to Cotopaxi. I am departing Quito at 11 AM. The attempt on the mountain will begin around midnight tomorrow - a true alpine start. I am vaguely nervous, because I know this will be very difficult. I should be in Riobamba by midday Saturday. For now, I must continue resting.

Wahoo! My first Ecuadorian volcano - in the bag. The story should be documented, since this was an eventful climb, though thankfully not an epic. Warning: the details could be boring!

Last night I cornered Patricio with a "so what's going on with the plans for Illiniza Norte, Cotopaxi etc" and we figured it out after some discussion of costs, which seem to face inflationary pressures. He quickly made arrangements for a guide the next day (that'd be today) to Illiniza Norte, then a rest day, then two days for Cotopaxi, another rest day in Riobamba, two days for Chimborazo, and then more rest.

So this morning at 7 AM I was picked up on the way to Illiniza Norte. We were to meet the guide near the mountain itself - he's a local, whatever.

First things first, breakfast. The driver took me to a roadside restaurant that charged More-Than-Quito prices, but what the $7 got you was more food than any human should rightly be able to eat, especially when there are children starving in this very country. Specifically, $7 got you fresh baked bread, a vat of jam, a huge chunk of cheese, and what must have been 5 eggs cooked in a casserole. I twas more than I could eat, but no complaints; a big objective ahead, and I need fuel! Incidentally, it was made clear to me that I am to pay for the driver's breakfast too - and this is a departure from what I saw with my jeep driver in Tibet, Dawa, who not only dined and hotelled separately, but would shyly refuse to let us pay for his dinner, or even sit at our table!

We met the guide around 9 AM. I was expecting some grizzled mountaineer. I got... a 20 year old, wet behind the ears. I figure, OK, this is a routine climb and he ought to know the route since it is climbed so often. On this count, he did not disappoint.

A word about Illiniza Norte (5126m if memory serves). This is the northern volcano, sitting majestically behind its sister Illiniza Sur - google them, you'll see. Illiniza Sur is a technical ice climb, very committing, and requires an overnight at the Illiniza refugio - I was not prepared to do this with an unknown partner (guide or otherwise), especially given I have what amounts to zero ice climbing skills myself. Norte, on the other hand, is a pleasant scramble climbed from the refugio, and can be done as a day trip - which is what I did. You start off at a parking lot a few km away, at an altitude of around 3800m. The summit is 1300m higher!

Now, people will say that Illiniza Norte is easy, even trivial. These people need to get a brain adjustment. Not all scrambles are trivial, and I would argue that any reasonably remote mountain, at altitude, should be treated with respect. Illiniza Norte is not technical, meaning you don't need to bring a whole lead rack and belay every pitch. However, it is still physically demanding and committing. "Easy" should be reserved for climbing to the top of Mt. Chicopee in Kitchener and not to a 5000m peak in Ecuador.

Back to the climb. Carlos (aka Carlito) & I had a two-phase climb. First, reach the refugio at the col between the two Illinizas. Second, climb Norte, descending by a different route than what we took up (more on this later). We got started at around 10:15 AM. The going, at least for me, was fairly tough. The refugio is at approx. 4600m, meaning there's an 800m gain in elevation over some distance, and of course this is happening at altitude to a person still acclimitizing. Unfortunately, there's no way to acclimatize without subjecting yourself to this sort of experience, and I was frankly embarassed by my pitiful lung capacity and (shall we say) modest ability to walk uphill for more than a few minutes.

We made it to the refugio at 12:30 or so, meaning we took a little over two hours to cover distance my guidebook suggests is a 3hr walk. I was pleased. Carlito made sandwiches. We hit the road a few minutes past 1 PM.

Now, the Illinza Norte is effectively a ridge haul. You climb up a ways, attain the ridge, and stay on the ridge. In your way are three pinnacles that need to be climbed over or around - over being the non-suicidal way to do things. After the third pinnacle, you cross the scarily-named Paso de Muerte ("Pass of Death") and finally climb up to the true summit. You're basically doing 4th class scrambling for most of this, with the odd bit of walking on flat terrain. Most of it is steep, but the exposure is quite minimal. The rock is completely solid, almost nothing is loose anywhere, and there are tons of holds. I've got nothing against scrambling and I'd characterize the climbing on Illinza Norte as seriously fun.

To descend, you start heading lower directly from Paso de Muerte and thus do not have to repeat the ridge haul. This is a significant improvement over the logistics of the Mt. Victoria climb I did this summer. There, the ridge was very long, extremely narrow in places, horribly exposed all along, and a fall would be fatal. Did I mention that we did that particular climb unbelayed, unroped, didn't-take-the-harness-out-of-my-pack? Scared yet? I was.

Problem #1 on the climb was the weather. Quito was shrouded in fog overnight, which cleared by the time we got near Illiniza - and the views of the mountains are gorgeous - pictures coming, I promise. Unfortunately, the cobalt skies did not last, and by the time we got to the refugio, the mountain was clouding over. We went anyway.

Fast forward through some climbing, and lets pretend we're in the vicinity of the 3rd pinnacle - shortly before the Paso de Muerte. Percipitation begins, specifically ice pellets. We may be near the equator, but we're also at 5000m, so anything goes. Carlito says if it starts raining then the summit is not possible - but to bail, we realistically have to get to the Paso de Muerte anyway, so we press on. It's clear that if the weather continues to be wet, we have to bail - the rock will get slippery, the summit pinnacle is steep and has snow between the rock. I ready myself mentally.

Incidentally, the Paso de Muerte isn't all that scary - it's actually ho-hum except for some snow littering the most direct path across, which means you have to be doublely careful. By the time we get there, the percipitation stops, and the summit is a pleasant 30 minutes of climbing away. Carlito seems unworried. We head on up, totally immersed in cloud, and top out at 3:08 PM. Very happy moment. There's zero visibility, but that's ok; the process counts for more than the views anyway. We start down after maybe 15 minutes at the summit.

The descent down from Paso de Muerte, once you get past some early sketchy terrain, is a big scree field - really more like volcanic ash than scree, but that's splitting hairs. It's fast - much faster than retracing the ridge - but climbing up this stuff is for masochists only. As soon as we start down, the weather instantly deteriorates. It is now out & out raining, not the ice pellets BS that is distracting more than it is harmful. At one point, I slip, brace myself against my trekking pole, and in the process bend it out of shape. This pole has been in services since 2005, has been to Alaska, China (where I used to to fend off a monkey on Emei Shan), Ladakh, the Rockies, and a few other places. I'm sad, but it's bent out of shape and has gone to meet its maker. We have our one and only casualty of the trip, not bad if you ask me.

We continue to head lower. We're now effectively off the mountain and on the trail back to the parking lot. Carlito says something incomprehensible in Spanglish. After some thought I understand he's referring to...

Problem #2: Bulls. The male bovine things that tend to charge & gore the unsuspecting climber.

There is a cluster of bulls blocking our trail - 5 of them. They're not 10m away from the trail; they're right on the bloody thing, idle - in fact, they exhibit so little movement, they may as well be cardboard cutouts. I get visions of being mauled by a bull who's strangely attracted to the big red panel on my backpack and my orange helmet. So much for a successful climb! How do you explain this? "I topped out on Illiniza Norte, but got trampled by bulls on the way down." I also suggest hopefully and naively that perhaps they're stray cows, but that's impossible. The horns are in plain sight; the udders are not.

Carlito is finding this all immensely amusing, and seems to have some plan. I don't know what that could be. I'm a city slicker and not used to moving a herd of bulls out of my way in rural Ecuador. I quickly learn that, apparently, whistling and throwing rocks in their direction scares them. Lesson learned: next time a herd of bulls shows up at the corner of Bremner Blvd. & Navy Wharf Crt. I'll know what to do. Carlito dislodges the bulls. I am impressed, and think we're home free.

Ahh... but no! I think this may be a bull convention. We walk on, and find a lone bull - apparently they're more dangerous when they're alone. Even Carlito looks worried, but manages to scare the bull with some whistling and potentially brandishing of a stick. We move on, nervous, as the bull eyes us. Unfortunately, we then encounter another 20 or so bulls! Where are these bloody bovines coming from, and why are they not engaging in some sort of raunchy activity with their female bretheren? Why must they be in my way? I remain nervous. We can see our vehicle (and the bull roaming around it). We can also see a dozen bulls staring at us with a twinkle of hunger in their eyes. Our only protection is Carlito's ability to whistle, and my ability to brandish my broken trekking pole. When it was in good repair, it scared a wild monkey. I don't know what it'd do for a bull.

In the midst of all this nervousness we get to our vehicle (now bull-free) at around 5:30 PM. To summarize, we climbed 1300m vertical in 5 hours, including a 45 minute break in the refugio. We descended the same distance in a little over two hours. And with inclement weather, to boot!

Lessons learned today:

• Climbing in the rain is probably not the greatest idea in history. In retrospect, bailing would have been just fine, although it feels good to have a summit in the bag.
• Bulls can appear out of nowhere, and when they do, it sucks. I am not equipped to handle bulls.
• Climbing to 5126m after acclimatizing to 4300m the day prior may lead to a mild AMS-related headache, and extreme fatigue.
• No amount of "this is an easy mountain" can take away the physical difficulty of it all.
• Most importantly, an "easy mountain" may also be a deeply enjoyable climb.

Tomorrow, I will loiter around Quito and figure out something to do - perhaps another attempt to go to the Mitad del Mundo, this time with better information in hand. Friday, I'm heading to Cotopaxi to punish my body a little bit more, with another large mountain. I hope the weather holds. I also hope my body holds.

The plan for today was to climb Rucu Pichincha for acclimatization. Plan fizzled.

Everything started off well enough. I got to the teleferiqo shortly after 9, hoping to take it up and eat breakfast at the top. No such luck. The teleferiqo was not scheduled to open until 10, and there was a massive horde of tourists champing at the bit to get on. I head back into town to get some breakfast rather than wait aimlessly for some long amount of time.

I return to the teleferiqo shortly after 11, having breakfasted to my heart's content, to find it open. I get a ticket, strike a conversation with some Canadians (that Lululemon logo sure is distinctive...) and head up. As I embark, we are told that the teleferiqo is closing early today for maintenance. Instead of closing at 10 PM as it should, it will close at 1:30 PM. Also, I am told it opened late (apparently at about 11 AM, not the 10 AM scheduled start) and now it's shutting down not even two later. Grr!

I wandered up the trail as long as practical with the Calgarian couple I met in line, and headed down disappointed that I couldn't get to the summit. We got to 4300m (landmark being a giant hydro tower), and all the while had a friendly conversation, so definitely not all a waste. However, the plan was to gain altitude for acclimatization purposes and not to converse while rushing back to catch the last tram down.

Incidentally, missing the tram would have meant a very long hike down, along a poorly-marked route, in an area that guidebooks tell me is not the safest. I wasn't interested in going down by myself especially given that I wouldn't even know where the trail down starts. All in all, a non-starter. Too bad, really.

Need Plan B. Plan B becomes heading to Mitad del Mundo, the tourist spot on the equator, which unfortunately is out of town. I consult with Patricio, who says that if one waits for a regular bus on Avenida Americas, one can get there with minimum fuss. He even drives me to the place where I am meant to pick up said bus.

It is now 3:15 PM. Mitad del Mundo closes at 6:00 and is a 40 minute ride away. I wait. And wait. And many - possibly hundreds - busses come & go, but no bus clearly marked Mitad del Mundo. They say all kinds of other things, but not that. And they all reek of diesel fuel and belch out black smoke. Charming, rally. I check with the gas station guy who seems to indicate that I'm at the right place. Still, no bus. I give up. Plan B failed.

Last chance: the Museo Banco Central, aka the only museum in Quito worth going to. I don't ordinarily like going to museums, but I was getting desperate for something to do! This one, at least, is worth the visit. The entire lower floor (and this is a 3-story affair in a nice new building, immaculate really) is devoted to the history of this land from the Pleistocene era onward. There is a large collection of Inca artifacts, as well as cultural relics from people who lived in this area before the Inca conquest (apparently there were quite a few different groups). The whole thing would actually fascinating to study if I was here for that purpose. I was not. This was a diversion.

I'm going a bit stir crazy in Quito now. I think I've exhausted the things I like about Quito, and it's time to move on. Unless Patricio grossly disappoints me with this arrangement-making, I'm heading to Illiniza Norte tomorrow. Then, back to Quito and hopefully on to Cotopaxi.

The plan for today was:

• Visit Old Quito
• Check out the massive statue overlooking Old Quito
• Go up the TeleferiQo

Mission accomplished.

I sauntered out of the house, got breakfast, and eventually made my way down to the old part of the city, which happens to be the hub of government, museums, culture, and other such excitement. One thing that jumps at you on a fine Monday morning is that the city is busy. It was comatose yesterday; it was on drugs today. Cars everywhere, people moving all over the place, traffic nuts. Wow.

Old Quito has a very Old World feel. Tight cobblestone streets, alleys really, all of which seem to be going uphill all the time. I wonder what the half-life of a clutch is in this town; I'm guessing 90 days. Every street is also a one-way street, which makes for tremendous confusion unless you know exactly where you're going. To add to that, it seems like many of the roads contort into each other pretzel-like, so if you want to go west you first have to go east, spin under a bridge, veer south, and then eventually be on your way. How people drive in this place boggles the mind.

Back to the story of Old Quito, however. By around 10 AM I wandered into Plaza Grande to see what's what. Plaza Grande is immediately next to the Ecuadorian parliament building. The place is busy; people are milling about, including a lineup of 4-year olds picketing the government about something at the behest of their teachers. I don't know what the cause is, but it's tragic kids are being used to further a political mission they know nothing of. These are four year olds! They should be in some sort of school, and not in the middle of a big public square marching in single file (each child clutching the shirt or dress of the child in front of them). I don't understand the thinking behind this.

Shortly after I arrive, a group of police-looking individuals (carrying swords and guns) start asking people to move out of certain parts of this square. They clear out a fairly large space. I wonder what's going on. People are still milling about. Eventually someone, apparently someone important, makes a big announcement from the parliament building in Spanish, of which I get something about some minister or Presidente or something or another. I think to myself... a press conference, outdoors in the sunshine (the weather's gorgeous btw; 20C and sunny). Smartly dressed soldiers (in a sort of blue, white & gold theme) file out with their swords and pikes and Ecuador flags and stand ramrod-straight on the balcony. I figure, a bit of formality, fine. I wait. Nothing happens.

In comes the marching band, this time dressed in brown but still well-decorated They play their thing in front of the partliament building, and this would be the first time I've seen a portable xylophone on a military marching band. The balcony is filled with more soldiers, this time marching in place. I see horses around the corner - decorated in purple & white. People start to sing something that clearly has meaning to the people of Ecuador (I can only assume it's some patriotic song like "Lets Nationalize the Gringo Mine"). I'm starting to doubt my press-conference thesis. More flamboyantly dressed soldiers appear, now on ground level, in two rows. More musical instruments, too! A special set of drums, equipped with a loud-voiced announcer drummer. The upper balcony is filled with some sort of VIPs wearing ill-cut suits and a band of children who must feel they're beyond merely lucky. The horses (smartly decorated in blue & white potpouri) and their flamboyant blue-and-gold dressed cavaliers take centre stage.

This ceremony of music, drumming, loud announcing and goes on for maybe an hour! I don't know what's going on, but I'm surrounded by proud Ecuadorians who all seem interested. One of the leans over and says "blah blah blah Presidente blah blah" to me in Spanish. I pretend to understand with a nod, a smile and a "si, gracias". Other tourists in the crowd are just as confused as I am.

After the dust settles, the cavaliers and hordes of soldiers depart, I find out that this was a weekly Changing of the Guard. I must say, it's even more pompous than the equivalent that happens in front of Buckingham Palace from time to time, but maybe it feels that way because it takes place over a small area and you can see the expressions on everyone's face. Either way, I'm fascinated.

Now, one thing that occurs to me is that these soldiers' dress uniforms (blue jackets, white trousers, gold trim, swords, Beefeater hats) seem very... colonial. I thought Ecuador was proud that it kicked out the Spanish way back when - after all, their most celebrated figure is General Sucre, who facilitate this little victory. So what's going on? Maybe they're holding on to tradition. But then again, the Chinese did not keep the dress standards of their Japanese WW2 occupiers when that ordeal was over. No! They said "we like drab costumes"and to this day wear Mao suits to express solidarity with their fearless syphillitic leader. But I digress...

I also made my way to a huge - massive - catherdral slightly north of the main part of Old Quito. The catherdral itself was nice enough (gothic, but instead of gargoyles they have some of the local fauna represented). What struck me is the scene I saw on the 3rd floor balcony. Out I step, to find a one member in a group of people wearing a climbing harness and pulling a rope up (from over the balcony) with another harness & belay device attached. He hands this over to some young-punk-looking guy, who sheepishly puts it on, gets tied in for a rappel, and clambers over. The look in his face as he let go of the railing and started rapping down was probably what I looked like when I made my first rappel: concern for one's life. Now, some observations:

• Normally one does not share harnesses.
• Normally you rappel on two ropes, or a doubled-up rope. These guys were using one, and it was tied in a big knot at the top.
• Normally you have some sort of backup - something as simple as a fireman's belay (someone keeping the rope tensioned from below and can pull it really tight if you fall) could be the difference between a fatal fall and a minor jolt of fear.

These guys weren't doing any of that. Mildly concerning. I stike a bit of a conversation with the guy in charge (who's orchestrating this from the balcony I was on). He mentions that he's planning to climb Illiniza Sur this weekend with some buddies. Uhhhh.... Thanks but no thanks.

After a brief trip to see the Virgin of Quito on a big hill overlooking the town (El Panecillo) I head for the TeleferiQo, Quito's major attraction as it takes you up above town, to Cruz Loma on the flank of Rucu Pichincha, at 4050m (Quito proper is at around 2800m). Well worth the trip. The gondola is a new & shiny Poma product, of the sort you'd find at a major ski resort. The view from the top is stunning - mountains on all sides, and you can see basically all of Quito all at once. I stayed up for a while (and had a conversation with another traveller, this one of Mississauga origins) to soak in sme of the 4050m air. This is all part of my acclimatization plan. It was very tempting to slowly head higher towards the summit of Rucu Pichincha, as I felt fine, but reason prevailed and I came to terms with the idea that going up 1000m by teleferique is probably good enough for now.

Tomorrow... not sure what the plan is. I'm definitely looking to go higher and continue acclimatization. I may go back to Rucu Pichincha (this time to the summit), or if I can arrange it then go to another local peak, perhaps Guagua Pichicha, which is only a few km away but requires private transportation.

I've been roaming the streets more and getting more of a feel for this place. I can't help but compare what I'm seeing now with what I saw when I was in China & India last year.

• Ecuadorian people generally keep to themselves, at least when it comes to shopping at markets. I went to an artisanal market area - passing through - and I was not accosted unless I expressed interest, which was refreshing. Everyone's friendly enough, but in a passive non-pushy way.
• I sometimes can't tell the gringos and the locals apart. The majority of the locals have very dark complexions, but definitely not all. Occasionally I encounterd a person who I would have defintely taken for a traveller (after all, I'm wandering around in La Mariscal aka. Gringolandia) but then they'd start talking flawless Spanish. Nope, you're not from Wichita! Bizarro.
• One thing that reared it's ugly head is begging by children. I understand that some local families are poor, but it really bothers me that these same people feel the need to send their very small kids to beg for money from tourists. There are two issues here: one is that the kids & their families must be genuinely in need, and a bit of charity is in order. The other is that the children learn from an early age to be beggars, and I feel pretty strongly that this is a bad habit to encourage. I think the parents are fully to blame.
• I went to a park. All the kids play soccer - er, futbol. If I were in a park in North America, I'd find kids playing catatonica, or possibly preparing for the next hot dog eating contest. It's very refreshing. I'd also point out that people here don't seem to have systemic, widespread health problems, despite the generous "this is not a French restaurant" portion sizes.

The language barrier is nowhere near what I had in China. I think after half a day's communications and with the help of a trustly phrasebook my Spanish already exceeds my Mandarin by a factor of 100x. I can even understand a small fraction what's being spoken in my general direction, as opposed to what was going in China - which was a lot of quizzical looks, smiles, and pointing at the phrasebook. It helps that the language I normally speak draws at least in part on Spanish, and therefore some of the vocabulary is not totally foreign on me. Then again, without some instruction, I'd never know that "tengo" means "I have". I would have thought it's a dance for 10 participants!

What else is in the docket? I met Patricio's brother and (whoah!) daughter. She's 16. He's 32. Hmmm! I suppose there's nothing wrong with an early start, but I really wasn't expecting this one.

Tomorrow I will attempt to climb Rucu Pinchincha, with a head start from the teleferiqo. I'm being told that from the top of the teleferiqo, at 4000m or so, it's only a 3-4hr slow walk to 4600m. Great acclimatization. Just what the doctor ordered. I figure a couple of days like this and I'll be ready for a bigger, higher & harder destination.

Oh yes, and I can now say that I've tried Mate de Coca, aka coca leaf tea. If you divert the leaves used for cocaine production (including intermediate stages that involve a gasoline bath) and instead brew the same leaves in some hot water, you get a pretty nice cup of tea.

Time to resurrect this blog.

I'm currently in Quito, my first day in Ecuador. I'm here to do see some sights, soak some culture, and hopefully bag a few gorgeous summits on Ecuador's giant volcanoes. Also, I do realize that Quito is not in Asia and is not consistent with "Alex's Asian Adventure" - but so what? Them's the breaks.

Travel here: largely uneventful if you ignore the minor issue of the fact the first flight (to Houston) was delayed for 2 hours on the tarmac (something to do with mechanial issues relating to a fuel gauge...hmm), and had to make a fuel stop in Memphis. Instead of arriving Houston at 11am local time, we got there at 3pm. Connection was at 4pm, no problem. It just makes for a long day of travel and a lot of sardine-can action in an Embraer ERJ. I wonder if we would have been delayed if we were in a Bombardier plane....

Arrival in Quito was smooth, though somewhat delayed by the approximately 523 people landing across three flights, and all trying to clear customs at the same time. I was met at the arrivals gate by Patricio, who's a total class act.

Some background on the guy I'm visiting here in Ecuador:

• I met him in Everest Base Camp last year, when he was attempting to climb that minor and inconsequential pile of rocks.
• He's in his early thirties, and wiry like a marathon runner.
• He's attempting to be the first Ecuadorian to climb the Seven Summits - and the last mountain on his agenda is Mt. Vinson in Antarctica (to be climbed later this year, in fact he's leaving in two weeks).
• He is currently the only Ecuadorian to climb Everest solo and without oxygen (accomplished last year).
• He lives in a huge - massive - apartment near the big tourist hub fondly referred to as Gringolandia. The place is at least three times, if not five times, bigger than my place in Toronto - and costs probably a quarter as much, if that. There are two other foreigners staying there now, on a more permanent basis, but there's a spare room and I'm well-accomodated.

Quito itself has no shortage of charm. There are mountains on all sides. It has a certain old-world appeal and feels a lot different from any North American city I've been in. Of the cities I've spent time in, Quito most reminds me of Leh: an old town (not as old as Leh) with mountains on all sides and a vibrant tourism scene.

It is now my first morning in Ecuador and I ventured out to Gringolandia solo (Patricio is busy doing something in preparation for his Mt. Vinson expedition) to find some food. Observations:

• This area caters to the gringo tourist in a big way. The first restaurant I saw was... KFC. That said, there are lots of local places with some character; I went into one for a massive plate of eggs, beans, tortilla, and cheese. I think I may burst.
• Everyone is extremely friendly.
• There is security everywhere. Each restaurant has a nightstick-weilding thug standing by the door to keep out the riff-raff. Same thug typically has a smile on his face when gringos are nearby. In fact, speaking of security, I see a lot more private security, door barricades, huge numbers of locks on each door, etc. than I ever would in Toronto, which suggests that crime is a bit of a problem here, especially at night. What's even more culture-shocking is that there are private security guards around carrying sawed-off shotguns as they guard a construction site. Not used to this at all.

My plan going forward is to spend the rest of the day exploring Quito, perhaps go to the old town tonight and see what that's like. Tomorrow I may attempt an acclimatization hike up Pasochoa or some other mountain nearby, depending on how I feel (so far, A-OK). And maybe later in the week I'll be ready for something more intense, like Cotopaxi.

More later. Maybe.