DAY 20: Baños is a town in a valley surrounded by lush green mountains, one of which gets really excited and ejaculates liquid hot magma every so often. In 1999, the Volcán Tungurahua erupted, causing a major evacuation of the town, and since then the town has been on guard. In Baños, after you look up the weather forecast, you look up the volcano forecast.

A major eruption hasn't happened in three years, and in this time, tourism has been booming for Ecuadoreans and foreigners alike. The word "baños" means "baths" and it is here people come to soak in thermal baths naturally heated by the volcanic activity below. The closest and most popular of these baths are the Piscines de la Virgen, a facility on the east end of town conveniently placed adjacent to a scenic natural waterfall.

The pool of the hot water was about as sanitary as public pools go, at least I had hoped. Without the use of chlorine and the presence of natural sulfuric sediment, the water (picture above) was yellow-greenish and so murky that once you stuck your feet in you couldn't see them. I know what you may be thinking -- public pool, yellowish tint, warm water -- because I thought the same thing.

However, no one seemed to mind and I didn't actually see any public urination -- they save that for the streets and the trees in the park, remember? -- so I did as the Bañosians. I blended in pretty well and joined the Ecuadoreans when we all stared at the four gringos playing cards on the side. I thought that one of the girls might be American until I noticed what looked like two brown hamsters growing from her armpits.

After a while it finally sunk into my head that taking a hot soak on a sunny 80° day just seemed silly, so I exited the questionable water and just wandered poolside to take some photos of the waterfall. A guy on a lounge chair noticed my big Canon AE-1 SLR camera. "Amigo," he called to me.

I managed to figre out through the Spanish words I knew that his name was Pablo and that he, his wife and son were on vacation from the city of Guayaquil. Recognizing the international index-finger gesture for "take a photo," I figured he wanted me to take a picture of him and his family.

I thought it was an unusual request but I entertained him anyway. I bid him farewell, but as I walked away he started saying something I couldn't understand. Soon, I realized that he thought I was one of the many guys around the area with Polaroid cameras that sold instant photos to tourists. I wanted to explain that it wasn't a Polaroid camera and that I was using slide film that had to be developed, but I didn't know any of the Spanish words for any of that and just took off really fast.

THE REST OF THE AFTERNOON I wandered the streets of town. I bought a soda from one of the street vendors -- who didn't give me the bottle. Instead she poured the drink into a baggie and wrapped it around a straw. I thought that perhaps it was a good idea for recycling purposes, but it just felt weird drinking out of a bag. It was like walking around town sipping on a breast implant.

I saw the Basilica Notra Señora del Rosario and its adjacent Spanish courtyard. I walked over a bridge that went over a scenic gorge to a trail that went up a mountain for a great view of the city. Unlike Quito, it remained a sunny day and didn't rain.

IT'S A FUNNY THING about the backpacker trail. Everyone seems to have the same book, Lonely Planet's South America on a Shoestring, and knows the same narrow information. Everyone seems to start in Quito, take Spanish for a couple of weeks, and then head south. By this rationale, every so often a "graduating class" of a Spanish school in Quito eventually moves on their way down to the cities mentioned in the guide, which is why I ran into Hugo the day before and Anita, my Swiss schoolmate that afternoon. She was with a friend and had just arrived the night before.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked.

"I don't know. Probably nothing. Whereever we walk, people see that we are foreigners and hand us flyers and flyers for all the different things you can do here. It's all pretty much the same as everywhere else; horseback riding, rafting, see the volcano," she said. "What are you doing?"

"I might rent a bike and ride down to Puyo," I said.

"Ah, you have the Lonely Planet book too, huh?"

There was no use hiding the truth.

I RAN INTO NAVID at random just as he was sitting down to dinner after just arriving into town, and so I joined him. Later, I went out to the bars with him and Hugo -- a sort of Class of The First Week of November 2003 reunion -- but not before taking a nice hot shower.

I wondered if the water coming out of the shower head was the same murky volcanic water from the thermal baths, but I tried not to think about it too much. Golden showers just aren't my thing.