TORI'S TRAVELS: Quilotoa Volcano

Yes, yes, it's been a while. Things here are just so incredibly busy. I wake up at six am and go to bed after eleven, falling asleep immediately. However, at the demand of my avid fans and readers (hi mom), I decided to squeeze in at least one more blog post before going home in (less than!) two weeks.

Quilotoa is a bright, dusty epicenter of rich and old Ecuadorian culture. It's high, high up in the Andes. The mountains stab through the downy clouds and the slopes are flecked with grazing llamas. We drove higher than I've ever driven in my life, and every turn revealed another sweeping vista.

The people who claim the mountains as their home are even more incredible. They wear richly-hued shawls and hats of dark velvet. Their cheeks are darkened from constant exposure to sun and the thin, gelid air.

And they don't like getting their pictures taken.

At one point I was snapping photos of a distant field of sheep watched over by a little woman. I could barely discern her features, but her crimson shawl was a strong contrast with the viridescent landscape. After I had shot several photographs, however, I noticed she had scrambled for cover behind a fence post. Now, fence posts are not the most effective hiding places. They're kinda the worst, especially when you're wearing bright red. But I got the message and aimed my camera higher.

We spent the night in a rustic inn, staying up late singing while gathered around the common room's big fireplace. It was a cold, starry night, but Regan and I stayed warm huddled together beneath three alpaca blankets, and the next morning I was both alarmed and amused to discover ice in my contact case. But mostly alarmed (#floridagirl).

We next made the precarious hike down into the volcano, in which a deep, green lago has formed. The trail was so steep that simply walking down took energy and focus. The high altitude had left me feeling dizzy with a headache, and I kept slipping on the loose sand. With all this in my befuddled, oxygen-deprived mind, I was not pleased by the prospect of hiking back up the darn thing, but when we got to the bottom I discovered a system where you pay $10 and get to ride a mule up the volcano! Ever since hearing about mule rides in the Grand Canyon, I've been dying to do something like this, and it was offered at such a good price. Plus, it solved my laziness problem of not wanting to hike up. Double win, Ecuador. Double win.