After our half-day stop back in Quito, we headed down to the area around Cotopaxi, the second highest volcano in Ecuador. We stayed at the Secret Garden Cotopaxi, an outpost of a popular backpacker hostel in Quito that was located just outside the boundaries of Cotopaxi National Park. The setting was amazing. The Secret Garden is located at the foot of the Pasochoa Volcano with great views across the valley to Cotopaxi, Rumiñahui, and Sincholagua (as well as a couple of other volcanoes were visible a bit further off). Of course all the views were dependent on the clouds clearing, but we were pretty lucky in that regard over our couple of days there.
The hostel itself was impressive. Spread across the hillside were a number of different housing situations, from basic dorms to hobbit holes. That’s right, hobbit holes. We stayed in a dorm our first night and were able to move into a hobbit hole the second night. It was cozy and goofy, and mostly just nice to have a private space (with a great view straight across to Cotopaxi).
The hostel staff moved people through like a machine, with activity signups each night for the next morning. There was tons of food, and they managed to keep up with a an ever-shifting number of people eating at different times of day (depending on how long they were out for). Even between meals there was a constant supply of…bananas (and banana bread!).
Mostly it was just a very pleasant space to hang out in, with views in every direction. We also had fun meeting folks there from all over the place. One night we even ended up playing games with a group of people from the UK, Austria, and the Netherlands. (For my game folks, we played The Mind–a cooperative game–with a far too large group, and failed miserably at first before we really tuned into each other and sailed through multiple levels. Then we played Tinderblox, a dexterity game about building a campfire which was great fun to chatter throughout.)
As soon as we arrived on the first day, the hostel staff bundled us off on a quick hike up to a few waterfalls at the foot of Pasochoa. They made us wear “wellies” (or “gumboots” if you prefer) since most of the hike was right up the middle of a creek. A nice way to start our time in the mountains.
The next day we got up early to zip off for a hike up to Rumiñahui Central, the middle peak of the volcano at a height of 4,631 meters (or 15,194 feet). No problem, right?
Yeah, it was a problem. We did it. And we easily beat the time our guide said it would take, but we were by far the slowest people in our little group. We were fine on the first half of the trek, ascending from Laguna Limpiopungo onto a rolling ridge approaching the steep wall of the volcano. It was that steep wall that killed us. Our French and German companions on the trek were good sports about our lack of breath, but it made us feel a bit ridiculous stopping to gasp every 3 steps.
Nevertheless, it was an amazing hike. Most of the approach was through the páramo, a kind of grassland unique to Ecuador. And the páramo is incredibly gorgeous with its multi-colored tufts of thick grasses.
As we started up, we were fairly sure we were hiking right into the middle of a cloud and a predicted rainstorm, but the clouds lifted as we approached the summit, and when we finally made it to the top we were treated to amazing views out the back side of the volcano as well as a pounding wind.
A seriously breathtaking hike in more ways than one.
On our last day in the area Jess took a rest while I took off with a big group hiking up Pasochoa, right out the Secret Garden’s back door. We were joined by several of the hostel’s resident canines who served as good natured shepherds to our unruly flock of breathless gringos.
The ascent was a steady march up through the páramo, this time only to 4220 meters (13,845 ft). The views in every direction were spectacular, looking out over farms and villages to distant volcanoes (and with Cotopaxi and Rumiñahui looming at our backs).
When we finally achieved the summit, the view shifted rapidly though. The north side of Pasochoa faces out towards the far southern reaches of Quito, and the slope down in that direction is completely forested, while there had been basically no trees for the last several miles of the hike up the south-facing slope. It was quite a stunning contrast to top off another excellent hike.
That evening, after taking the extremely bumpy road back down the hill from the Secret Garden, we were dropped in Latacunga. Somehow, from the descriptions in guidebooks and such, we thought Latacunga would be a sleepy little village with not a ton going on. It turns out it’s a thriving city of 50,000+ people, the first major stop on the Panamerican Highway heading south from Quito. We barely got to see it, as we arrived fairly late in the evening and we had plans to begin our next adventure early the following day. Nevertheless, once again I was struck by the number of murals I found around town and the frequent strong political messages, many calling attention to violence against women.
As I was saying, our next adventure…
We woke up early to head out to hike the Quilotoa Loop. There’s a lot of confusion about what this term means. Some people think it means hiking around the rim of the Quilotoa Volcano’s crater. For most, it means hiking some number of days in the area either starting or ending at Quilotoa. In reality, the name “Quilotoa Loop” comes from the fact that a loop of highway heads out from Latacunga to the west, encircling the Quilotoa Volcano before heading back to the Panamerican Highway. So, hiking the Quilotoa Loop really just means hiking in the area surrounded by that loop of highway. We decided to take a slightly longer amount of time than some, doing the fairly traditional three day hike from Sigchos to Quilotoa, but then going one day farther to end in Tigua.
It was an incredible four days.
Our first morning we got an early start leaving Latacunga because we wanted to stop at the nearby Thursday market in SaquisilÃ. We were joined in our meanderings this morning by Live, a young Norwegian woman we had met at the Secret Garden.
When we arrived in SaquisilÃ, we wandered for a bit and then found a massive city block with people selling everything from used clothes to tamales, hardware, electronics, handmade pottery, and even wooden spoons made to feed an entire village. It was an impressive market.
But, after wandering for about 20 minutes we figured we were about done. Nice–great, really–but nothing we hadn’t seen before (except maybe those spoons). So, we asked where to catch the bus out towards our hike. When we walked to the corner where we’d been told the bus would come, we found another solid block of market, this one dedicated completely to food. There were hundreds of people eating breakfast, everything from llapingachos (potato patties with cheese–amazing!) to the extremely popular grilled pig’s head. But, beyond that there were people selling panela (brown sugar), fruits, vegetables, potatoes, and also more potatoes. So many potatoes.
That was a truly incredible amount of potatoes. OK. Now we were satisfied that this was a truly epic market. We went back to our corner and boarded a bus marked “Sigchos,” the town we were aiming for. It drove about 10 blocks and then stopped. They told us that they actually left from this new spot in about half an hour. So we got off and found…more market! This new area had a huge furniture section, appliances, hardware, and more random goods ranging from clothes to fruits to a whole row of fish vendors.
We also saw…
So that was the market! Seriously impressive. One stop shopping for everything you could possibly want for your household. I was glad that I made sure our timing lined up for that one.
Somehow, when we returned to our corner at the appointed time, the bus wasn’t there. Other buses came and went and we eventually found another heading to Sigchos and got some of the last seats onboard. (Though, funny enough, our original bus and driver passed us later that day in the middle of our hike!)
We started in the town of Sigchos where we saw these statues celebrating the panela from the area.
And we were amused by the work of the local cop who was called on to remove a goat who had wandered into a soccer match. (I particularly love how forlorn the goat looked once he was left outside to watch.)
When we finally got out of Sigchos, our journey took us down into a river valley and back up the other side to the town of Isinlivi. The landscape was fascinating. We were only about 30 miles west of Cotopaxi and Pasochoa, but the páramo was gone as were the towering rocky peaks. Instead, we were in an area of loosely packed volcanic soil that was cut by deep, steep river valleys. The entire area was covered by farmland on all but the most inhospitable slopes and the ground cover was a mix of brilliantly green grasses, flowers, and a few succulents interspersed with some small remaining patches of forest.
Between the directions we had read, the GPS system on our phones, and the relatively straightforward path, we had no trouble finding our way, but it was nice that the local hostels had put up markers at some of the important turns. Along the way we passed a number of farms, some folks herding cows, and just a whole lot of natural beauty.
Eventually, we arrived in Isinlivi, where we stayed at Llullu Llama, a place that has to be the best deal on the planet. Not only did it include breakfast and dinner (as most places in the area do), but the food was the best we had all week, there was a truly stunning view out the front of our room, and to top it all off, the whole thing was about $55 total for the two of us. A ridiculous bargain.
The entire town of Isinlivi is about 7 city blocks with a number of homes and farms sprawling off in the woods in various directions. Interestingly, it is also home to the Don Bosco woodworking workshop. Here expert wood workers train others in the community. They produce and restore some beautiful stuff (including the local church doors) and they let us watch them work for a bit. But, the oddest coincidence of this is that the workshop is supported by the Italian group, Mato Grasso, the very folks who run Rifugio Frassati, where we stayed on our hike around the Valle d’Aosta on the very first leg of our sabbatical travels. Mato Grasso runs a handful of rifugios in the Italian Alps to raise money for their humanitarian projects in Latin America. Small world.
We set out the next morning with Live and were joined for part of the day by two young women from Britain who were headed the same way, trekking from Isinlivi to Chugchilán. Once again, the trail took us down, down, down to the river and then back up, up, up to the hills on the other side. As with our hike the first day, we lost Live on the uphill. I mean, she lost us. There was much huffing and puffing on the uphills at 10,000+ feet above sea level.
Speaking of losing, Live told us the guide she had read said of this day’s path, “You will get lost.” This turned out to be true despite the lovely directions provided by Llullu Llama, colorful guideposts, and our nice GPS setup.
The day started our with gorgeous views and, after a short uphill section, the five of us descended steeply to the river.
Our first loss was the two Brits. Somewhere on the downhill, they slowed down and…we never saw them again.
When we reached the river, the directions simply said we should head upriver and then cross at the log bridge. The directions made this sound like it might be 10 yards, or 100, but we wandered for over a mile before we found the bridge. And it definitely wasn’t all on a “trail.” We had to duck under some barbed wire and scramble up and down various slopes before we found the right path.
From there we trekked slowly up to the tiny town of Itualo. We were met at the outskirts by three young girls selling banana bread, brownies, fruit, water, and…beer? It was a welcome stop, so we sampled their delicious treats and discussed Jessica’s work with the movement of working children in Peru.
From Itualo, we were faced with a choice. According to all accounts we made the right one, taking the lovely, slightly longer route that circled along the edge of the river valley rather than climbing straight up a cliff. It was a gorgeous but grueling hike the rest of the day, and we lost Live when she decided she was going into “sport mode” and zipped up the mountain leaving us in the dust.
In Chugchilán we stayed at the Black Sheep Inn. All the reviews we’d read raved about it just as much as Llullu Llama. I have no idea why. To be clear, it was fine. Quite nice actually. But it didn’t hold a candle to our previous night. The food was ok, but dull, the room was smaller, less clean, and less comfortable, the view was mostly blocked by trees, and the owners were pleasant, but less friendly and helpful. Oh, and it cost twice as much too. Regardless, it was still a fine place, but I just had to point out that it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
Day three started out with some useful tips from a fellow hiker who was heading the opposite direction: “don’t go that way,” because of a landslide. The hostel owner said it wasn’t too bad, but we decided to listen to the ex-Marine. So we went on the other possible route.
We started by passing through the center of the small town of Chugchilán…
From there, the day consisted of a few minor drops, passing through a couple of small towns and then just a huge hot, sunny slog up to the rim of the Quilotoa Volcano. The whole thing was absolutely stunning with a high plateau dominating the view (and occasional glimpses of the distant Iliniza Volcano–about halfway back to Pasochoa). The great vistas over sweeping farmland continued as we got higher and higher.
From there we had a variety of views of the sickly green lake full of volcanic chemicals a thousand feet below our circuit along the rim. It was reminiscent of Crater Lake in Oregon, but far less beautiful because of the odd coloration and the relatively dusty hillsides. Nevertheless, an interesting spot. I just felt bad for the busloads of tourists we saw coming into the town of Quilotoa who came for a quick look at the crater and then moved on. The countryside around was so gorgeous, but the “destination,” while impressive, was a bit lackluster.
That said, the route around was fascinating. We only hiked about 1/3 of the way around (we came in from the north and the town of Quilotoa is on the southwest side), but in that couple of miles we passed through a pretty wide variety of landscapes…
The town of Quilotoa was kinda sad. Restaurants, bars, hotels, and really nothing else. It’s just a few block strip, and it was also clearly hit hard by the COVID-enforced decline in tourism over the last few years. We stayed at an uninspiring hotel and were happy to get on the road the next morning.
Day four of our hike in the region got us right back smack in the middle of amazing.
Before we began hiking the Quilotoa Loop, we spent a lot of time debating whether we should add this extra day. I had read a short entry in our guidebook about the town of Tigua and got it in my head that we had to go there, but it was unclear whether we could get there. I mean, it was clearly on the major bus routes, but that would mean either taking buses and not hiking or just walking along the highway. So, either unexciting or unpleasant. But I found some hints that there were walking routes despite not quite seeing the connections on the maps available for download.
In Quilotoa we met a women at the tourist info office who promised to send her husband to guide us to Tigua the next morning. It turns out the route he took us on matched what I thought would work based on my research…and it also turned out to be very helpful to have a guide at a few points.
We started off on the road out from Quilotoa with a beautiful view of the countryside. As we walked on, our guide, Eduardo, pointed out his mother’s house, as well as those of a few other friends and relatives along the way. About a mile down the road we came across a largely abandoned village–the former town of Quilotoa until tourism drove everyone to build up the hill closer to the volcano’s rim.
As we approached the river, an incredibly creepy mannequin…
…welcomed us to a beautiful overlook.
From there, we descended a dusty trail, eventually getting lost in the weeds before finally finding the tiny bridge over the river on our third or fourth try. And that was with a guide. Glad we had him along.
We then had an equally insane (and insanely spectacular) climb back out of the canyon…
From there, it was a much easier–while still beautiful–rest of the day, passing through the town of Tigua Chami (where we were glad to have Eduardo’s walking stick to fend off some aggressive dogs…more than once), past fields of quinoa, and eventually to the highway in Tigua Rumichaca, a few miles down the hill from our target.
After days of trekking up and down a dozen steep valleys and past innumerable farms, we came to Tigua Chumbacucho, a village whose famous art is a treasure of the region. Sometime about 50 years ago Julio Toaquiza began translating the traditional painting done on drums and masks into a flat canvas style of painting more palatable to the art world. Since then, Tigua (and Toaquiza specifically) have become known around Ecuador and the world for paintings celebrating indigenous culture and the Andean countryside. Some have a dreamlike quality, particularly reflecting Andean spiritual beliefs.
The town is nothing more than a short strip of galleries and shops, but those galleries were full of beautiful paintings and masks. Most are created by Toaquiza, his children, and a handful of other related families. As we looked around, it became clear that each artist had a slightly different style, even though all were clearly modeled off the original master. We weren’t able to take many photos, as most of the galleries didn’t allow it. (One that did had some interesting modern interpretations of the Tigua style, and one truly odd representation of 9/11.) But we enjoyed chatting with some of Julio Toaquiza’s children in one of the galleries, especially his daughter Magdalena. She showed off the works of her family members, only pointing out her own work when we asked her very specifically which she had done. She mostly paints tourist trinkets (mugs and such), but her couple of pieces on canvas were quite unique and beautiful.
Finally, it was time to leave the trekking life behind, and we scooted back to Latacunga for a shower and a meal. I was sad to leave the mountains. The varied landscapes and absolute peace of hiking everywhere from volcano peaks to village squares were really a highlight of the summer. But time and hiking energy are not unlimited resources, so on we went.
Before our next adventure, we had to spend a whole day in transit, first taking a bus from Latacunga to Ambato, then sitting in the Ambato bus station for half an hour before finally realizing that we were in the wrong Ambato bus station. A 20 minute cab ride later, we arrived at the southern Ambato bus station, a beautiful new terminal. It was so new that most of the spaces for shops and restaurants weren’t even occupied yet. But it had real tickets and machines that scanned them and all sorts of high tech stuff like that. We even supposedly had assigned seats. Fancy!
Of course, none of that meant a thing once we left the station. No one sat in their assigned seats. And moreover, buses throughout Ecuador just stop wherever someone wants to get on or off. Actually, to be more clear, if you’re getting off, they slow just enough for you to hop off reasonably safely. And if you want to get on, they slow just enough for you to jump on (unless you have enough stuff that you have to get into the luggage area underneath). So, heading down the Panamerican Highway for the next 8 hours or so, we stopped and started with incredible frequency despite only going to one or two actual bus stations.
And sometimes, passing through one town or another, a salesman (or several) would get on the bus to hawk their wares–everything from juices and baked goods to phone accessories and cosmetics. They usually rode long enough to give their spiel a few times and then got off at the other end of town to ride the next bus back north.
After a long, slow, twisty ride south through the mountains, we ended up in Cuenca, Ecuador’s third largest city. More on that next time…
A REAL TREAT – loved the challenging hiking – the scenery – made me wish I was 40 again.