Riobamba, Ecuador - 24/9/02

You've may have heard them muttering in public bars. Those pretenders that

refer to themselves as internationalists, the world citizen types. Probably

some git that has backpacked it through India or some pretended who claims

to have ridden a motorbike across a few latitudes. A favorite expression of

this motley group is that "a border is just a line on a map". The

implication is that cultural change is a subtle and dynamic phenomena

largely unaffected by political segregation. I've hold my hand up amongst

the guilty confessors. So what's this about? Has Ralphino been struck down

with heatstroke or Chagas disease on the brain. Well perhaps, but I am

referring however illucidly to the crossing of the Peruvian border entering

into Ecuador.

We left the last urban settlement in north Peru (City of Piura) and out of

the desert oasis proceeded north west out of the coastal desert plain into

the pre-Andean foothills. The greenery returned gradually as the topography

began to increasingly undulate. Then round a corner there it was. The bridge

over the river of the same name that precedes town of Macará on the

Ecuadorian border. Country number three just over 2 months and 12,000 km.

Not much there really; on each side small buildings for customs and

migration, a couple of hole in the wall restaurants. Not even much of a

queue of vehicles at 11.30 am. The procedure for leaving a country is always

simpler than getting in. Particularly with your own vehicle. And so it was.

Surrended temporary importation certificate for swinehunt to Peruvian

customs and drop in tourist card to migration.

On the other side of the creek we were cheerfully greeted by Ecuadorian

customs who were most interested in the `hunt. They dispatched us to

migration first where the maximum 90 days tourist card was easier than

wheelie-ing an ST2. On return to customs a nominated officer leapt on the

back and instructed me to proceed to the customs office in the town proper

only a km away. As he wasn't concerned about wearing a helmet I presumed I

could get away without as well. He enjoyed the occasional jest to his mates

through town that he had confiscated this contraband motorcycle.

At the customs office I was introduced to the head honcho of customs for the

region and then handed over to the in house customs lawyer. They were

friendly and cheerful, welcoming me to the country and eagerly inquiring

where we had been on the bike before reaching Ecuador. Meanwhile back at the

frontier Mary Ann was sharing a freshly cracked watermelon with the rest of

the drug busting customs crew. She was pleasantly surprised when they made

an effort to ensure that all scraps made it into the bin - in sharp contrast

to the Peruvian attitude of "throw it on the ground" rubbish disposal. I was

away for about an hour in total but emerged with a temporary motorcycle

import permit for 90 days to match the tourist visa.

The ride to the first major town, Loja was a pleasure of swerving bitumen.

Clumsy in parts where sections had fallen over into the valley or where the

impact of landslide from above had left their scars. Climbing to a modest

height of 3,000 meters with great views of the crumpled topography,

smothered in a green patchwork of fields, some at ridiculously steep angles

that would preclude the working of a bullock and wooden plow. Therefore I

presume hand tilled. We stopped for lunch at Catacocha a small town hanging

across the steep ridges of the central Andes just of the Pan American. The

fish was good and for the second time since the border crossing we were

struck by how easy it was to understand the locals in contrast to Peru. In

fact many contrasts were beginning to dawn. No evidence of roadside dumping

of household rubbish. Roadside signs promoting preservation of trees and

native flora. Drivers generally keeping to their side of the road in (blind)

corners. Ecuador was becoming a feelgood type of change after the cynicism

of the latter part of our Peruvian 5 week experience.

Loja was more modern than Peruvian cities by comparison. Not necessarily

architecturally modern though the standard of (re)construction and

shopfitting was noticeably so. The population was noticeably better off

economically. Standards of dress were such that I felt it necessary to go

for a haircut and beard trim - almost unheard of on holiday. At least this

stopped the school children from screaming and running and nursing mothers

from crossing to the other side of the street. Not that these advantages

were universal of course. In the tradition of increasing inequality that has

haunted the last 30 years or more on our fragile globe the tribal peasants

that had found there way into the big smoke, for what ever reason, radiated

the dejection of serious squalor. It was Friday night. After finding a hotel

we scrubbed up and got out on the town just after 8pm. The center of town

was like a mortuary - everything was closed. This trading hour conformity

was a bit of a shock after the urban chaos of Peru where entreprenerialism

means every man for himself until you drop, Sunday being the exception for

many.

The next day we went for an excursion to Zamora, 60 km east south east and

lower (600m) in the tropical jungle of the Podocarpus National Park. The

route to take from the center of the city was not at all clear. We had a

couple of goes at connecting but inevitably found our way back to the edge

of the CBD. Sensing our distress a local in a rat green Lada sedan asked us

where we wanted to go. He quickly indicated that we should follow and drove

the 5 km to the outskirts where the overhead road signs announced the route.

He waved us passed with a smile, whereas in Peru he would have had his hand

out for money. Ecuador was really beginning to grow on us.

A great ride down to the jungle. Only interruption was where the road had

fallen into the valley a few days earlier. This was being repaired by

gouging more landfill out of the surrounding cliffs. The one heavy machine

paused for us to ride through over the rough. On the way back to Loja

nuggets of about 2-3 tonnes each had made a late entry after the workers had

departed adding a slalom. We had some initial difficulty in Zamora town

locating the dirt road that led to the national park. In typical guide book

fashion the instructions read follow road along river for 6km. Well there

happened to be several rivers - it rains a bit in the Amazon Basin. We

reached the end of one riverside road which terminated in a gravel path.

Since the disasterously bad advice we had been given in Peru we were a bit

reluctant to ask directions. A girl of about 12 with her mates/siblings came

along and was about to start down the path. I asked her whether it led to

the National Park. She suppressed a giggle (which 12 year old girls are a

bit prone to) but went on confidently to point out a road cut into the other

side of the river bank as the park entry. This turned out to be better

advice that we had got on directions from 99% of adults in Peru!

The national park was the real McCoy. Dense vine and fern clustered

impenetrable undergrowth with high overhead canopy. Clammy humidity. Exotic

birds that we could often hear but frustratingly not spot. Trails of

leafcutter ants underfoot. Gushing tropical streams roaring deep in the

valleys. A series of walking paths well defined but poorly differentiated

gives access. This was part of our "aw my gawd less than 1 month till back

at work, quick lets get fit" routine. In the spirit of world adventureism

I'm proud to admit that yes, we got lost. According to the map of trails in

the ranger's hut we were following the clockwise route 4. After an hours

walk paralleling the river I began to feel suspicious that rivers usually

don't run in circles. We eventually bumped into a small group of European

punters who pointed down stream from whence we had come as the route back to

base. This we followed with a diversion to eventually arrive there. Lesson :

use the compass on foot as well as on the road.

The road north from Loja is indicated as paved but is more accurately

described as bluish gravel. There has been a lot of patching done after both

landslides and natural attrition. This work has however been done using

gravel rather than an a tar/stone mix. Poor durability exposes the remaining

bitumen to further trauma, then the grader and dumptruck come along and

scrape off the bitumen islands before putting on a packed gravel finish.

This plus the sinuous nature, steep climbs and lowered performance at high

altitude mean averaging 70 km/h is a realistic maximum.

Next stop was the small village of Saraguro. This was a surprise after the

(relative) sophistication of Loja. Here was a village that has retained it's

traditional highland culture. To our surprise the men even wore the

traditional dress - extremely uncommon in the Americas. Both men and women

wear predominantly black. Something about mourning for their deity. Ask a

anthropologist for the full story! Narrow brim stiff tallish felt rounded

peak crown hats. Dark shawls, the chaps in knickerbocker length black

trousers, often with a couple of small pom poms on the hems. Long unisex

hair platted behind into a single thick pigtail. To see 20 year old blokes

still dressed traditionally is highly unusual in Latin America. The T shirt,

baseball cap and fake Levi uniform has not quite completely taken over youth

culture.

Now you will forgive me this extravagance, I hope. I'm about to go all dewy

eyed, and reminiscent. Well childless and middle aged, what else is there to

look forward to but the four phases, viz., eccentricity ® senility ®

insanity ® mortality! The cause is the extravagant numbers of vintage

strokers still rattling about the village. Punted by gentry in the full trad

outfit described above. On every street corner you can see the legend

emblazoned on a sidecover "Yamaha Trail 175". The original oriental dual

purpose road/trail rattler that established the category. Time to crank up

the phonogram and put on "Smoke gets in your eyes".

Cuenca, the major city of the southern highlands is regarded as the colonial

gem of Ecuador, for the high standard of preservation of its architecture.

There are really two cities; the old and the new. We didn't visit the new,

instead finding our way almost accidentally from the industrial outskirts to

a ramp that dumped us into the cobblestoned narrow streets of decades ago,

but with the current demands of modern traffic. Gracias Dios for the

motorbicycle - the ultimate urban transport tool. OK perhaps not an

appropriate advantage to ascribe to the swinehunt. Something half as wide as

a bus cannot cut the mustard when it come to exploiting narrow gaps in the

traffic. It still has the advantage over Skodas and 4x4 which constitute the

two main road space predator groups. So we were able to avoid the worst and

locate a hotel with indoor courtyard motorcycle parking without drama.

I was struck down by a minor illness in Cuenca, which may have influenced my

appreciation of the city. Though the expanse of historic architecture is

vast over many city blocks it's effect is diminished by modern external

illuminated shop signage, window displays and refitting. This is no

Zacatecas, or Guanajuato (both México) where traffic is restricted or banned

or underground and the touch of the last few centuries hardly evident.

Though neither could it be culturally. Unlike the Méxicanos, Ecuadorians are

not afraid of change, they embrace the future. A future that is looking

brighter in more recent years. Prior and during 1999 the term banana

republic was apt. Not only did Ecuador lead world banana exports but

inflation was 100% for the annum. The banks started falling over. In 2000

the local currency, the Escudo, was replaced by the American dollar. By 2001

inflation had dropped to 25%. This year 10%. In 2003 7% or less is expected.

There is still enormous external debt. From my ignorant, inexpert

perspective this seems to be either or both better managed or of a less

crippling proportion than Argentina. There are no expectations that Ecuador

will default on it's debts and the dollarization, despite the cultural

implications, may give the economy some resilience against the sort of

revaluation pressures that the Brazilian Real has recently been going

through lately.

On exiting north from Cuenca we stopped for fuel and noticed an oil

hemorrhage from the Swinehunt. This was coming from the oil filter cover

forward on the right side of the motor. By this time both fuel tanks were

full so these had to be removed along with the battery before the `hunt was

thrown down on it's left side. Enjoyable as this humiliation was in the

petrolo car park it also served the purpose of extracting said cover without

the engine oil running out. Cleverly BMW has made this task a challenge for

owners. Their "afterthought engineering" has left this common service item

(you need to remove the cover to change the oil filter) almost inaccessible

due to the fitting of crash bars and oil cooler lines a few decades after

the motor came off the drawing boards (1930's?). This was an opportunity to

change the oil filter and to clean up around the cover hoping that a better

seal would result from refitting. Which is what seems to have worked out.

Ingapirca is the largest and best preserved Incan ruin in Ecuador. The Incan

empire at its peak stretched all the way further north to the capital Quito.

None of these other ruins can match the magic of Machu Picchu in southern

Peru but Incapirca is still worth a look. Not highly developed as a tourist

destination the ruins consist of two partial buildings and a lot of low

eroded stone walls. The surrounding country is beautiful steeply rolling

hills covered in a patchwork quilt of plots and fields. Half a dozen very

tame llamas graze around the grounds, occasionally looking wistfully toward

you hoping for a handout of some treat to gobble.

The ride from Ingapirca to Riobamba was at times breathtaking with a

spectacular finish. There was a bit of up (to 4,000m) and down (to 1200m)

with roads clinging to deep cuttings chiseled out of the sides of mountains.

In one section the eastern edge of the range opened out between peaks. Here

the western coastal plain was covered by heavy cloud to the distant horizon

but the ceiling was far below us. Up the steep valleys white fingers thrust

their was a little way up but soon petered out, too heavy with tropical

moisture to make the climb. Great roads and fantastic views - just what you

bring a bike to the Andes for!

Closer to the central Andean city of Riobamba things got a little drier. We

were at the end of the dry season but there may also be a slight rain shadow

effect as the Pan American runs in a valley with high ranges on both sides.

This provides a series of snow-capped giants lining the horizon including,

amongst them the odd volcano. On sighting the swinehunt that morning Volcan

Tunga (Gita) went into convulsions chucking out a long trail of smoke and

dust that adversely affected 4,000 people and 3,000 hectares. On arrival at

our hotel I quickly hid the `hunt in a carpark. Next day the fireworks were

over and the locals were kind enough not to point the finger.

Quito, Ecuador - 07/10/02

Latacunga was out last stop before the capital. It's a town of 50,000 people

rather than a city and easy to get around on foot provided you don't twist

your ankle falling off the ridiculously narrow footpaths. This is a major

center for mountain climbing with several snowy peaks nearby. Scrabbling up

vertical slopes with crampons is not our style but we did take a couple of

day trip rides. The first was to the west to visit lake Quilotoa which is

spectacularly located inside the intact rim of an extinct volcano. The

approach is deceptively level to a dusty area where vehicles are left that

about 20m walk and suddenly you are looking hundreds of meters down onto a

vast green expanse of still water encircled by rough craggy peaked rim over

2 km across. Mesmerizing enough to sit and simply watch for a while. Low

down near the waters edge a few dot-like sheep paused to drink before

disappearing again to wrest scant nutrition from the crater walls. The road

there and back was initially bitumen over the pass but soon turned to

reasonably good dirt. Without the weight of the panniers and with the

memories of suspension failure fading, riding on the loose stuff was again

enjoyable. Smoothness and the caution of always leaving a little in reserve

is however necessary. Four hundred Kg laden weight getting too out of shape

is bad karma!

Next day we were off on another ride. This time to Cotopaxi National Park.

The mountain within of the same name is one of the most popular climbs in

Ecuador. More good dirt road leading in and through the park. The

corrugations were slightly irritating both in severity and frequency but the

beauty of the landscape soon diverted your attention. The mountain itself is

an extinct volcano of 5,897m altitude. The snow (and cloud) begins about 1km

from the top where the base camp refuge is located. A road, of sorts, runs

steeply up to just below the refuge. This defeated all the family sedans and

some 4x4 heroes on the day. I'm glad I had that new clutch fitted to the

swinehunt before this trip! From up there the views are grand between cloud

drifts but the temperature is freezing - too cold to take your helmet off

without supporting balaclava - just a stubbie's throw from the equator!

A big festival come party was about to start in Latacunga on the Sunday but

we had planned to ride into Quito that day to take advantage of the lower

levels of traffic in the capital on the only non-working day of the week.

Not that we were expecting the traffic chaos of Bangkok or the urban

immensity of México City; we just wanted time to find the right place to

stay while spending our last 12 days holiday. Focussed on this task we were

a little distracted to really appreciate the scenery for the 100km journey.

Just before Quito we got stopped by a police motorcyclist. He really just

wanted to have a look at the swinehunt. After a cursory look at our

paperwork he was welcoming us to the country, complementing us on our choice

of motorcycle offering any advice he thought might be helpful; finally

giving an enthusiastic wave to send us off. Another cheerful Ecuadorian

public official - it's either contagious or they have all seen a bit too

much of the high altitude tropical sun.

The ride into Quito looked easy on the map. Reality on the ground was a

little different. We were sent off on diversions by roadworks into the

narrow one way streets of the old colonial city district. From these

mountainside alleyways glimpses of where we wanted to be would occasionally

strobe into and immediately out of view through the narrow gaps between

buildings. Then we ran into the road closures due to political marches for

the October 20th national elections. Finally we stopped and asked a couple

of coppers what was the best strategy. We took this advice and with a few

minor modifications, like jumping the concrete median strip on a freeway,

got back on track through the two tunnels and then left to the "Gringobamba"

district where the tourist hotels are situated. Finding accommodation was

complicated by the fact that we wanted an apartment with a kitchenette for

our last two weeks. The fried meat/stew and rice mantra of the last 3 months

had us longing to be able to prepare our own food now that the variety of

ingredients that a city of 2 million was on our door step. We stopped next

to the tourist office. Along with almost everything else in Quito (and the

rest of Ecuador) this was shut Sundays. After three hours walking around we

found wh