Tori's Travels: Termas Papallacta

It's pronounced pah-pah-yahk-tah, in case anyone was wondering.

Though, I sometimes consider the possibility that everyone in the world speaks Spanish…except for me. That's not to say I haven't been learning the language. Quite the opposite; I'm on a roll. By now, I've reached the level of Highly-Competent Tourist: I can read a menu and pretend I understand what's going on. Bam.

But back to Papallacta. It's a small town nestled high, high up in the Andes. The air is sharp and biting, and clouds drape the jagged landscape for most of the día. Papallacta is also the home of thermal springs (termas), which are heated by two nearby volcanoes, Volcán Cayambe y Volcán Antisana.

The hot baths of Papallacta

After a long week, Emme y Jeff took me up to Papallacta to enjoy the springs at night. We stopped at an ADORABLE restaurant (I'll admit it, I think most of the restaurants here are kinda adorable) and got dinner with mora (blackberry) shakes. Mora is hugely popular here. In the States, you probably won't see blackberry  ice cream at your corner ice cream shop, but you will always see it listed right beside vanilla and chocolate in Ecuador.

Mora shake. I also ordered a fish, which was served with fins still attached. Woah now.

It was COLD when we arrived at the springs. I was wearing my winter coat and my breath made silvery clouds that mingled with the fog rising off the steaming baths. I hurriedly changed into my swimsuit (in a bathroom which actually had toilet paper…but no soap) and scampered to the nearest spring. At first, the water was too hot and I had to sit and awkwardly drag myself in, deeper and deeper, like a sluuuug. Good thing it was dark. There were only a few lanterns, and steam from the baths caught the golden light in spiraling patterns.

The overall mood was calm and subdued. The few quiet bathers were nothing more than faceless silhouettes in the swirling amber light. Above, the sky looked dark and empty, but occasional flashes of distant lightning would illuminate the contours of the mountains all around us. And I just…floated. I could hear the sound of waterfalls and watch the fog shift. It was almost surreal.

Listening to the sounds of waterfalls

There were SO MANY picturesque moments. Unfortunately, my camera is allergic to water, but I did draw a few sketches in my journal. The pen and ink don't capture the hazy ambiance of the termas, but it's the best I could do.

Also, toilet paper. In a public bathroom. It's a miracle.

Oh l'amour part trois: Destructive Beauty

Don't ask me how, but Leon somehow got my email address.

He sends me brief (but horrifically cloying) emails every once in a while, which I promptly mark as junk. Sometimes, however, curiosity gets the better of me, and I skim through the contents. I've noticed that he never remarks upon anything beyond my beauty as a reason for loving me. That's…disappointing, but not surprising considering our only interaction was in a foreign language class. Taught in a different foreign language.

"Oh Victoria," today's email bemoaned, "you have destroyed me with your beauty."

I read this as I perch in bed, wearing oversized PJ's and using my fingers to scrape out the very last gooey contents of my banana-cacao smoothie from a cup. I slide off the bed and amble into the bathroom to survey my destroying beauty in the mirror. Ooooh yeah. Turns out I got some smoothie on my nose, which doesn't compliment that enormous pimple on my cheek that doggedly refuses to leave me in peace.

WORD.

I couldn't figure it out at first; I kept noticing people staring at me when I walked through the halls at school or down the street. I was constantly checking my reflection to see if there was anything alarming about my appearance. And then the realization dawned on me: oh, all these people staring at me…they're all male. A lot of men here are more direct than those in los estados unidos. But hey, if you want to feel drop-dead gorgeous, come and visit! These guys here will literally stare with gaping mouths as I walk past. Whew.

I find it more disconcerting than flattering to be honked at, ogled at, have people call out, "hola guapa!" as I make my way down the street, eyes fastened on the cobblestones. So tonight, I skim through Leon's emails and apprehensively read about my terrible, destroying beauty, then hit the "junk" button.

No stomach inside another stomach

RULE.

Allow me to explain: while living in Bolivia, my brother had the wonderful opportunity to partake of a dish called panza de vaca. Cow stomach. After which, he became horrifically ill and decided to invent a new motto: No stomach need ever be placed inside of another stomach.

This is a good motto. I should have taken it more seriously.

After visiting Mitad del Mundo, we decided to stop for dinner. Driving along the city streets, one will see lots of restaurants. None of these restaurants appear to follow any semblance of food safety codes, but we eventually found a nice-looking one that offered the traditional dinner of soup, meat and dessert. Ecuadorians know their soups. This one had a pale grain called quinoa. I think I may have seen quinoa in the States, but never tasted it. Anyone had quinoa before?

Next came the meat. I've been trying to taste exotic things while living here, so Emme and I decided to be adventurous and split a plato of cow stomach. Even as I agreed, Alec's motto rang in my mind: no stomach inside another stomach, no stomach inside another stomach…

Panza de Vaca

The curly-haired server appeared with the plate and I eyed it suspiciously. It didn't look too bad. I slid it toward me and hesitantly took a bite. Chew. Swallow.

"Huh. That's pretty good, actually."

"Tori. That was a potato."

"Oh."

I tried again, carefully selecting a piece that distinctly wasn't potato. Bite. Chew. Chew some more. More chewing. Swallow.

"Okay, that was chewy. Kinda like a mushroom." I suddenly wondered if I had eaten the wrong thing again and held up a piece for closer inspection.

I shouldn't have. Really.

I have no other way to describe what I saw except to say the piece of vaca had tiny poky-pokies all over it. The scientific term, I believe, is "villi." All over. Honestly, it reminded me of those little suction-cups on an octopus tentacle. Basically, it was supergross.

I took another bite. Lots of chewing. Swallow. Shifting things around on my plate. The rice looked safe. I eventually managed to finish my dinner in time for desert: sugary pan de pan (much like bread pudding) topped with a leche sauce.

Very early the next morning, I awoke suddenly to…

THE END.

Sorry, story ends here. You may use your imagination if you'd like. Just please remember that NO STOMACH NEED EVER BE PLACED WITHIN ANOTHER STOMACH. Thank you.

Tori's Travels: Mitad del Mundo y Mindo

Spoiler: my weekend just might have been cooler than yours.

Totally teasing, but I did have a wonderful weekend of traveling to amazing places, places so unlike anything I (as a Floridian) had ever seen. Friday began with an uncommonly clear sky, so we decided to take a spontaneous excursion to Mitad del Mundo, the middle of the world. I stood on the equator!! And…it felt pretty much the same as when I'm not standing on the equator. Which is, like, all the time.

Guapulo is a boho little town, and a crazy, twisting drive up the mountainside.

Little hut on the equator, est. 1875

Balanced an egg on my first try. Plus a few.

I also ate cow stomach. More on that later.

On Saturday, we took a trip out to a little town called Mindo, nestled in the Andean cloud forests. Mindo is, officially, my new favorite place. The drive in itself was a visual feast. After leaving the last town behind, we drove out into the desert, winding through mountains that looked like massive sand piles scooped up and forgotten.

This lasted for several minutes, until––within a few twists of the road––we suddenly found ourselves in Andean farmland. The mountains were flecked with cows gazing on the emerald grasses. It was beautiful…and seemed to pass just as quickly as the desert: we veered around a few more turns and the viridescent landscape became swathed in clouds.

In Mindo I immediately set about finding a farmacia. The day before I had been mercilessly attacked (bug spray has no power here) by biting flies. EIGHTY-FOUR BITES. ON MY BODY. It was bad, guys. My ankles were so bitten up that they became painfully swollen. Hence the need for a pharmacy.

Sorry, that's a little graphic. I should've given warning.

After buying and lathering my ankles in crema, we went in search for the next most important commodity: food. Hobbling around the cobblestone streets of Mindo (with my ankles muffin-topping over my shoes) we found an exotic little gem of a restaurant and ordered two pizzas (because that's what the cool kids eat when they visit the rainforest). THEY WERE SO GOOD, fresh sauce and crust, topped with garlic, onions, eggplant and carrots. Ahhh.

The pizza here was flawless…even with eggplant, which I once swore I'd never eat.

Soon, the clouds surged in and tiny droplets of mist filled the air. We took a drive out into the forest, jolting over the rough, jungle road and through a stream. I hung out the car window with my camera, shooting hundreds of photos. I even made Emme stop several times, in order to vault from the car and take closer shots. We finished the day with helado, a treat which has always been dear to to my heart, and the General Womens Conference. Perfecto.

Though, every bathroom I visited was either lacking in toilet paper, soap, four solid walls or all of the above. Which I did not appreciate. So, okay, your weekend might have been cooler than mine.