Balancing Ashy Quito

Mafia Controlled Airport

Before Quito, we had to pass through New York City. The American Airlines flight arrived at the LaGuardia B terminal. You see, the next flight was in terminal C. Simple enough. One terminal over. In clear view. Directly across 100 meters of tarmac. A 5 to 10 minute walk max at most airports, but not at LaGuardia. Here, the simple is complex. The airport “design” required a walk down an obscure, hidden stairwell to a waiting bus on the tarmac. The stairwell laid just steps away from the terminal exit. One unfocused stroll and you’d have to pass through security again.

A ten minute wait on the bus, followed by, literally because I timed it, a one minute “ride” across to terminal C. What the hell?!?! That’s about as logical as Chinese owned toll roads in rural Texas. This is a classic example of what I will label “mafia bureaucracy.”

“Hey Giovanni, if you want Terminal C here at LaGuardia, you guys need to employ 50 bus drivers, all named Vinny. 50 desk attendants, all named Maria. And buy 10 busses from my cousin Vinny, this afternoon.”

“But Marco, it’s only a five minute walk. No one is going to ride a bus that far. Even Aunt Valentina would walk that far.”

“No one walks on my watch Giovanni, they take our busses. Capisce?”

The same mafia boss must have been on edge and wanted to keep an eye on everyone, no matter where they stood or sat. When he designed terminal C, he needed to keep an eye on everyone at all times.

“I don’t want that snake Jason being able to take a shit without everyone knowing.”

My digestive system demanded I visit a LaGuardia bathroom, soon. If not, this could literally turn into a shitty day of travel. And mind you, my issues at LaGuardia are obviously a first world problem. I’ve seen the toilets in China and that is a real problem.

Unless the bathroom entrance has been closed when a patron visits the toilet, every pedestrian searching for a nonexistent walkway back to Terminal B could easily recognize your shoes and shorts from 15 meters away.

“I know what Mr. Nike Shoes and gray Patagonia shorts here has been doing the last ten minutes while his kids ran up and down the corridor screaming and yelling about the lack of working water fountains. Hope you washed your hands buddy!”

Miami Airport was a sun soaked breath of fresh air.

Ecuador, You’re Ashy

Forty-five minutes northeast of Quito, the pilot quipped, “Unfortunately, a volcano erupted west of Quito, spewing an ash loud over the airport. We’re diverting to Guayaquil.”

Guayaquil, located on the southern Ecuadorian Pacific coast, was originally considered for our trip to Ecuador, but its’ distance from central Ecuador made it a last second cut. Now with this unexpected safety detour, the opportunity to get a taste of tropical Guayaquil was possible . . . for just a fleeting moment.

The only taste we experienced was four uncomfortable hours stuck on a plane on the Guayaquil tarmac. Due to an obscure international aviation law, passengers couldn’t actually deplane in Guayaquil. The general passenger mood inside morphed from frustration to general acceptance and then back closer towards a passenger revolution led by flight attendants. They had as much info as we did, none.

Dom slept. Even though he vehemently denies sleeping and “was just faking us out.” He apparently played the long game. For 3 hours.

Finally, the pilot announced that the Quito flight would attempt to land again. If conditions prevented a landing, the flight would divert to Panama City for a night. As the plane approached Quito parallel to the spine of the Andes Mountains, it dipped and bobbed like an oil tanker waiting out a tsunami at sea. On our third and final approach, the drastic pitching of the wings caused an unfamiliar “oh shit!” moment for me. Was this plane choking on volcanic ash and having a hard time handling the situation?

Since you’re perusing this entry, we landed, safe enough to only be tired. Hard to imagine, but that landing was more alarming than New York City’s LaGuardia airport.

The hour long highway drive from the airport to Robyn and Nate’s apartment (friends we met in the Cayman Islands) by Cotopaxi International School was deserted. It was that sweet driving spot in the Quito day, between 3 a.m. and 4:30 a.m.

Twenty four hours since the start of our travel day, we were in bed at 5 a.m.

Egg Balancing

Other than the Galapagos Islands, every visitor to Ecuador includes Museo Solar Inti Ñan and Mitad del Mundo.

My friend and high school colleague Molly always displayed a photo of her balancing an egg on the head of nail prominently in her classroom. It piqued my interest in Ecuador and specifically Museo Solar Inti Ñan. It’s a Latin American amusement park dedicated to the unique facets of geographical and astronomical middle of the Earth replete with engaging exhibits. For example, a person weights two pounds less at the widest part of the planet furthest from the Earth’s gravitational pull. I still use that as my excuse. Additionally, water drains clockwise or counter clockwise depending on which side of the invisible line you find yourself. Apparently walking with your eyes closed along a straight line is more of a challenge too. Imagine if you gave someone a piece of gum on top of that! Great times folks by had by all.

It was obvious that a lot of care had been put into the second spot, Mitad del Mundo. Its’ organization, trapezoidal monument with a big ball on top in the middle, and museum were interesting. Inside the trapezoidal monument was a detailed museum about Ecuador’s history, culture, and geography. It was very well done. If we had added a thorough visit to the Museo de la Cerveza Artesanal, it would have been even more captivating.

The Metro

After balancing on the equator, we returned north to Quito. But instead of relaxing before dinner, I took the “metro” back to La Plaza de San Francisco. The Quito metro consisted of crowded above ground tram system. In my eagerness to talk about Ecuador with the taxi driver the previous night, I left my ultramodern iPhone 5SE on the front seat. Now his grandson was meeting me and kindly returned my only source to take photos. Nice grandson that guy.

TelerifficiQo!

As the White and Fry families would find out, Ecuador is a beautiful country once you escape the gray congested traffic arteries of Ecuador. Quito’s TelefériQo seemed like a logical fresh air escape and far from the confines of the megapolis below.

Two taxis dropped our troupe off at what appeared to be a derelict amusement park. One that once knew the fame of weekends full of yelling kids with excitement . . . 20 years ago. A deserted path led upward past padlocked rides with no indication that there was an entrance to the TelefériQo. Eventually a bit of activity in the distance appeared at the entrance of a worn, faded white building. There was a ticket booth. Eight were purchased.

As only nature, hindsight, and a cable car precariously hanging from a wire can do, it provided perspective. When you’re down in the heart of the city, the nonstop blur of store fronts, ads, and exhaust belching from busses, block the greater surroundings. But above the glut, you notice the mix of green, blue, and white of the Andes mountains framing concrete jungle patches and their asphalt arteries extending out far and wide stretching up and down the valley below. The crisp cool air, changed in intensity with every passing cloud blocking the sun. The summit lacked the human intensity of the streets below, rendering the calmness of unobstructed 360 degree views.

The endless vistas weren’t the only thing dotting the periphery. In the horizon sat the “Columpio en las Nubes” at a mere 4,100 meters above sea level. Our group of 8 had just decided to head back down to catch a bus out of the confines of Quite, when I spied a huge swing further up the pathway. If I wanted to swing in the clouds, I had to hustle. And hustle I did. I ran up the rocky path to a pair of swings occupied by a German couple who had just replaced a 70 year old Ecuadorian couple with their daughter. They happily obliged to take a photo of me above greater Quito. Pending transport limited lingering around. So a bus interrupted some swinging and further curiosity about the meaning of life.

Next stop: Flying Through Ecuadorian Nature
Also: Sophie’s Perspective of Ecuador
Also: Dominic’s Perspective of Ecuador