Yamatout

The good: old Quito, the bad: my knees (but not my feet!), the ugly: pickpockets, and the bonkers: Carnivale We spent the last weekend in old Quito, which is a UNESCO site for good reason. It is easily three times the size of old Montreal, full of churches, museums, plazas, monuments, monasteries, schools, historic hospitals, and quaint little alleyways that pop up unexpectedly.  Unlike most historical cities, they never had to enclose it with a wall so the roads while narrow by today's standards, are quite spacious. The indigenous people here had been dealing with an 'Inca' problem for the previous 30 years or so, so the arrival of the Spanish was seen as a solution (at least the Spanish did not practice human sacrifice) or at least as the lesser of two evils. And being up in the mountains, one has the benefit of the upper ground! Thus the Spanish did not feel the need to build forts. Ironic, because the typical architecture, even today, is a house built around

Tuesday we did very little, essentially moving from café to café, ending up in a chocolate café run by a nice indigenous couple. They sell coffee, but their specialty is chocolate. Once the owner said he could make me hot chocolate with almond milk, I was sold! He, in turn, was impressed that we were all the way from Canada, and had his wife take a picture of us together! Wednesday we took a bus from Otavalo to Ambato. We had originally planned to go through Quito, but Diego, the manager of the hostel we usually stay at (hot showers!) told us about the bus, which saved us hours of lugging our suitcases from the north bus terminal of Quito to the south one. Of course, the 5 hour trip ended up being more like 6½ because of rush hour traffic, but we did eventually arrive to the most modern guest house we have ever stayed at. In fact we had to argue with the taxi driver to let us off, because he was convinced that it was a condo complex! Fortunately Andreas, who was expecting u

Sunday morning, our Canadian/Rhodesian neighbour dropped by because Serge wanted to show him the new plantings and chat about water management in one of our fields close to the Apuela river (affectionately known as the rice paddy), so we all trooped off to the south coffee field again. This time we all had machetes so my first action was to hack off that banana bunch and flip it out into the horse pasture, then I set off to help clearing out extraneous banana clumps. You want one banana plant to provide shade, but not so many that they start crowding out the coffee plants. Banana plants are nearly unkillable (as I said, giant mutant dandilions) so you can whack away as long as you take care around the coffee plants.  In a way, it is quite relaxing, and best of all, if one arm gets tired (or, ahem, blistered) you can switch arms and still be just as effective. Discovered that while I can hit harder with my right hand, I am more accurate with my left. All in all, it was a gre

It seems that horses like bananas. Friday, the horses figured out Celio's barbed wire protected entry path and followed Serge and I after we walked up the El Recreo stream that runs down as the north border to our land. Returning, we discovered them happily grazing in the upper coffee pasture. We weren't quite sure if this was allowed, so we left them.  Turns out, it's not. Wasn't the end of the world because all the coffee plants there are a few years old so the horses don't trample them, but their weight compacts the soil so rain runs off instead of soaking in. Watching Celio chase them out was exciting as instead of going out the way they came in, they detoured via the citrus grove (fortunately there was laundry hanging out, or they they could have cut themselves up on the clothesline) and through Marcia's flower garden! After that, they all lined up under a tree near our reading rock as if doing penance! Hah! They were probably just snoozing. Or plotting.

We have made it to the farm.  This time it wasn't raining, probably because I had packed everything in plastic bags! As none of our neighbours happened to be in town (Apuela), we made our own way out to Ampuenda, and were very happy when our driver brought us all the way down the access road, across the bridge and right to our gate. This doesn't sound too impressive until you realize that until a couple of years ago, this was not possible. Once there, we were greeted by Marcia, many dogs, chickens, horses, ducks and a cow. This is Ben, he insisted on jamming himself between us in order to maximize ear scritches! Later, Celio arrived with our rubber boots, and then proceeded to show us how well the guaba trees (ice cream fruit) that he and Serge had planted a few years ago were doing. Guaba (not guava like Google keeps trying to tell me, although we have that too) is an excellent nitrogen fixer, which coffee plants need.  Banana coplanting is

We went to the grocery store today for ingredients for soup, and what I hope will be chili like. They don't have chili powder here, because they have many different pepper based spice blends, so I chose one that was about the right colour, and we'll hope for the best! After that we hit the market for fresh veggies. $3 for this lot: Opted for fresh tomatoes after last year's purchase of what I thought was crushed tomatoes turned out to be sweetened like ketchup! We feel safe getting market vegetables because they will all be cooked thoroughly. All the gorgeous strawberries and cherries we see are big nono's until we have more control over the water to wash them.  Oh, and just in case you though my life was too good, here is a screenshot of the weather this morning: Not exactly sunbathing weather! The afternoon was quite comfortable but it will cool off very quickly once the sun goes down about 6pm. How do they heat their houses you ask? Extra blan

Karen's travel tips If you arrive in Quito on a Sunday evening, better have snacks with you! The carpets roll up and the metal doors come down at 6. Well, at least they do in the neighborhood where we are spending the night. There are a lot of restaurants close by, but nothing open. Add to this that apart from a tuna wrap at Dorval airport the only thing I could eat on the plane was the fruit salad (the steward kindly gave me two), and the pineapple juice, by Monday morning we were both feeling somewhat light headed when we set off down the many, many, many steps down to the commercial district (visualise Mount Royal, only steeper, no hand rails, and a descent at least twice as far, with your head spinning). Needless to say, we were a bit early for breakfast in the commercial district, but a cafe kindly opened early for us, and I essentially inhaled eggs, avocado toast, fruit salad and an almond milk cappuccino. Serge, who had ordered a larger breakfast actually ran out

It was going too well. The day started at -29°C, which is usual for the start of any winter trip we take south. Serge had even managed to check in without too much frustration. So I was feeling confident, even a bit smug, because I was packed and ready to go. So obviously something was about to go wrong. Zipped up the suitcase and it wouldn't move. Further inspection revealed that the wheels are shot. No problem. I trotted downstairs to get Serge's old case. Hmm. Same problem. A quick trip (well, ½ hour each way, this is Varennes after all) to buy a new suitcase, hopefully there would be something at Costco. But, remember that -29? Yep. Car wouldn't start. Dug out the battery charger, hooked up the car, set it to maximum, waited a bit, and nada. Really didn't want to start. Fortunately, Serge got home then, so I now have a shiny new suitcase that rolls, but by dinner time, the car was trying, but the motor still couldn't fire. Uh oh.  Jeremy was supposed