On Top of the World

I think it's fair to see my brain's still a little scrambled with Galapagos overload. It was so much to take in that I think the brain's still working on it.

So, back in Quito. I spent Sat night on the previous mega-post, then Sunday morning sleeping and sorting out my gear. In the end it was after midday when I got a taxi from my New Town hotel (included in my Galapagos trip) to my Old Town hostel. Apparently, it's the top rated hostel in South America. I do like it. Put it this way, Pulp hidden gem Something Changed has just come on as I write this. And the view from the terrace is quite something.



I've managed to sort myself out a trip to Cotopaxi, which everyone says is amazing, and make some plans to go to the Equator line, cloud forest and climb a volcano. I've also had to put photos onto CD already-I took a few in the Galapagos you see. In amongst which I've seen some of the city. Quito old town is stuffed full of churches, it's fair to say they got religion here to an almost Roman extent. For most of the day on Sunday the centre of the Old Town is closed to traffic-note to city authorities the world over, this is a great idea.

There are some different things in churches here: the San Francisco church has clothed statues and Jesus has dreads, possibly made from wool. I wonder if Michelangelo ever considered such an approach? On one side altar, the flowers were vased in big plastic coke bottles with the tops cut off. At the Mercad I saw Jesus framed in Neon for the first time. It's a very different cultural approach to some very familiar themes.



At the Campania, they've managed to use 50kg of gold leaf on the decoration-David my guide described it as the most beautiful church in Ecuador. It was a bit Versailles for my tastes. They're big on depictions, especially gory fire and brimstone stuff alongside many life sized sculptures. David said it was help explain, as the priests were talking in Latin. After the tour, David left me to walk around by myself; as I left, I was delighted that my Spanish stretched to translating 'Turn off your mobile; you don't need it to talk to God.'

The Basilica del Voto Nacional sits atop a hill and can be seen across the city. It's Gothic, so won the architecture prizes for me. In amongst all the churches I stumbled across what the Lonely Planet described as 'a museum' in the cultural centre. My Spanish left me with a bewildered picture of religious and political power struggles, universities and the foundation of Quito's first library! Think I was missing a little context. Andean dress is by no means universal, but every time I see it I'm thinking Fast Show Patagonians, which is weird.

I've not seen as much as I'd like, but the openings times of things have been a little scatty and some places have been closed for restoration, so I've done a lot of walking including a return trip to the New Town-all good acclimatisation.

So what next? Before my Cotopaxi trip up to 4,800m, a third day of churches seemed sensible preparation. My first two stops were a repeat of yesterday's attempted opener, when I was foiled by a combination of opening times and mass (should that have a capital M?).

First up was the Monastery of Santa Catelina, which is full of Nuns. The Planet says they get an hour a day to talk to each other or watch TV-I couldn't get a statistical breakdown of how much talking they got into their hour, but knew I'd struggle even if I talked solidly for the whole hour.

They've an interesting collection. The dates on the pictures (all religious) kept surprising me as many were so recent. This was partly as the style looks 14/1500s, but more because I don't expect to see such narrative religious subject matter in painting from the last 150 years. I was reminded of what I read on Chile-the Pope is still very big here.

The nuns didn't shy away from the gruesome-one picture of the flagellation had Jesus with no skin on his back and cherubs collecting blood. There was also a odd bit I called Nun Fun, where they had a radio, gramophone, typewriter and sewing machine all in a classic 1930s style.

I wrote a lot of this while waiting to get into the second half of the museum, someone (the nuns I guess) was having a bit of pray. After half an hour I gave up, headed back up the stairs and found some of the rooms I'd already seen were locked and others were now open. Enigmatic is probably the word. Afterwards I had a quick look in Santo Domingo, but it seemed yesterday's mass was still going on.

The Franciscan Museum, part of the monastery of St. Francis of Asisi, had the pick of the art I've so far seen. The works in pencil, some with wash, were the strongest I felt-partly as the medium forced the result to be less bling and mawkish. However, the highlight was the choir; accessed from the cloisters it formed a mezzanine type level. The walls had wood carvings of 30 saints and the holy family, while the fantastic geometric ceiling was accented (rather than covered) with gold. I've not been allowed to take photos anywhere indoors.

I finally got into the cathedral, as I realised the main doors stayed shut and access was via the museum. It was lovely-both dimly lit and very peaceful. I think the quiet was due to a more restrained programme of Mass-the Church of El Sagrario round the corner chalks up 31 masses a week. The wooden ceiling, frescoed altar and relegation of the main goldfests to side chapels made it a great place to sit, contemplate and nearly doze off.

I spent last night chatting to a girl with no name from Leeds, who told me you couldn't ride on top of the Devil's Nose train after a Japanese tourist was decapitated in January (I'm still wincing as I type that). That rules out one of my away fixtures as the roof's meant to be the only place to get a view. In an attempt to plan Pasochoa (where they have a cloud forest) I took the bus way up town to discover the Fundacion Natura wasn't where it meant to be. By the time I got back to the bus stop the rain was like England in June. I hopped off the bus at the other end and thought I could make it back home. 10 mins later, I hid from the monsoon in an internet café: I was pretty soaked by then, so it may not have made much difference. I spent a while on the Beeb's website and read a fair bit about the Open; I felt a slight pang on hearing about Clarkey's improved form and realising I'll miss Wednesday night's preview programme (and the whole tournament). Last time the Open was at Carnoustie, I spent the first three days of it in Florida with Swiss: each morning we got to laugh at all the yanks moaning about how difficult it was. We were back home in time to see Paul Lawrie play a flawless playoff.

Go on Big Darren.

Cotopaxi
Well I'm battered now. I'm lying on my bunk and I'm a bit confused about the trip I'm going on with the hostel tomorrow. I read about it on Monday, figured it sounded good and put my name down. They do it when enough names are down; I got back, very ready for a shower at 8.15 to find out we're on for tomorrow. That's a 7.30 departure to add to today's 6.30. Like I say I'm battered, so only remember there's a volcano, a hike and a big arse statue of the Virgin Mary. Magical mystery tour then.

Ayway, I should be writing about today's volcano. It was a surprisingly long way to Cotopaxi and the group was spread across 3 vehicles. In my Land Cruiser, there was a none too friendly group, which didn't much matter as I sat in the child seats at the back with Rachael and we talked the whole way. We had a breakfast stop for the accurately named Massive Pancake.

After some hours and a lot of chatting we arrived in a valley near the snow topped volcano for an introduction to the 4 visible volcanoes and a cheesey photo stop.



(and no, I don't know what's going on in the background).

We started hiking at 4,500m to the refuge at 4,800. You could see it, it didn't look far, the guide said it would take an hour, clearly he knew best, but come on, it was just up there. It took an hour and made my legs feel very heavy-we walked slowly, took several rests and I talked too much. We were expecting lunch but it turned out we had to go to the glacier first. The ground was less sure underfoot as I talked even more, but eventually we were at the glacier, which I thought was a good effort. We had a slide on it, but without crampons this was the end of the ascent of man (and woman). And if you thought the other pic was cheesey, try this.



I'm facing the glacier, stood on icey red mud at about 5,100m. I just found the glacier pic



I'm just a little bit higher here. I don't actually know, but this may be the highest I've ever been. Sonya, who's done proper mountain stuff, told me it was higher than anything in Europe.

I got to take some clothes off on the way down as it was much easier going and seemed to have warmed up. Happily we were rewarded with a good lunch.

Activity wise we wrapped up with mountain biking down, which was fun. At times the ruts in the trail made it like riding a pneumatic drill. I didn't like using the brakes with the vibrations in case my hands lost grip; inevitably this pragmatic approach when combined with my natural ability for generating massive speed downhill led to crazed overtaking while shouting 'no brakes'. The cycling posse made it tho.



It was a bit cold, so hats were the order of the day





On the way back we stopped back at the breakfast spot for chocolate cake and I bumped into the Norweigian couple from my Galapagos boat. Don't say it....

Met lots of really lovely people today and there's talk of a night out tomorrow. I sense a shambles coming on. One of the things I learnt today is that a number of people, aside from me, are going to be looking for an English Harry Potter 7 this weekend (deathly hallows?). For me this is more to avoid spoilers-I will have a serious sense of humour failure if anyone tells me anything. Anyway have to see if we have any luck in the bookshops.

Rucu Pichincha
I'm not 100% that this is the peak of Pichincha we climbed, as they are 3. Anyway Pichincha blew pretty spectacularly in 1999 judging by the photo on the terrace. Luis our guide had 5 americans and myself to deal with. I wasn't so lucky with my companions today: Adam and the 4 girls from the US Virgin Isles were nice enough, but weren't too clued up. They were a bit short on layers.

It was quite a drive to the starting point at 4,000m, so it was just as well a hearty breakfast was included. We went through some small villages and a lot of countryside and every infant and calve produced delirious squeals of 'cute'. A little like yesterday we were to start by hiking to a refuge, at 4,500, then onto the summit at 4,800m.

Luis was driving to the refuge (with the supplies), then walking with us to the top. It was just as well this was the plan as poor Casey was so dizzy with the altitude after 5 mins that Luis drove her to the refuge, so she'd have a chance to acclimatise before heading to the summit.

It took the rest of an hour and some up the winding track. It was mostly a steady uphill, but the last 200m or so to the refuge was just plain mean. It was very steep and without a pace setter, I just put my head down and went for it. It may not sound much, but at that altitude it's a lot of effort and I was quite pleased with myself when I reached Luis and Casey. Luis was less pleased-he took my pulse and told me I'd have to go slower if I were to go to the summit. It's fair to say that my heat was beating like Marwood's; happily my thumbs didn't go weird. Even with my gloves from the Fox Glacier, my fingers did get cold later.

We had a snack and rested a time at the refuge. Adam, feeling cold in shorts, tried one of the beds. As we'd walked up, there appeared to be two summits-a little plateau with a couple of crosses, then a craggy peak further up and 500m or so to the right. Adam and I had wondered which we were going to, so we asked Luis. 'Both'. Gulp.

It had felt tougher than the previous day, but with Luis controlling the pace I was fairly comfortable. We headed higher up into the views across the valley and when we reached the ridge, we were suddenly and spectacularly in the clouds.



There was even a little snow. We'd been making steady progress for a while, but Casey and Bug were struggling. Luis had been checking their pulses and looking in their eyes. Bug's fear of heights certainly didn't help her-some of the path was ash and uncertain underfoot. So Luis checked them over again, gave some of his clothes to Bug and said we wouldn't be able to go to the summit. It looked pretty cloudy up there, so I wasn't too disappointed, and it was definitely the right decision from Luis. Still, just 10 mins from the top, we were afforded some good posing opportunities.



We rested awhile, then headed back down via the 'second summit', which was a little more developped with steps, a shrine, two crosses and some railings.



Only afterwards did I look at the drop behind the railings. Large sums it up. Happily everyone was feeling better by now.



Conditions may have been harsh, with no sign of birds or animals, but there were a good number of plants.



As Luis unpacked lunch back at the refuge, we discovered that possibly the finest vegetable soup ever was our reward, as well as crisps, biscuits, chocolate and fruit. Everyone agreed this became a sumptuous feast after a near death experience.

As a Brucie bonus on the way back we stopped at El Panicillo, a hill where the Virgin Mary looks out over Quito.



I'd been wanting to do this, so was pleased to get it as freebie-you need a cab as the walk is through a dangerous area. It was a touch disappointing as it was clearly designed with only the views from town taken into consideration. There wasn't much chance to get a good photo and there was no way to stand by it.

US spirits were fully restored by the tourist tat-I was surprised shagging key rings amused anyone over the age of 15, but then I am an old git.

I had dinner at the hostel, then headed out with a couple of new pals to meet Charlie et al. Shambles was avoided and I spent ages talking cricket with a veggie Aussie girl, who was surprised we don't like Glenda. Still a late night made this a day for blogging, napping and the Camilo Egas museum.

I'm off to post this and check the Open leaderboard. Come on Big Darren.