Laguna Quilotoa
30 September 2005 (Friday) – Latacunga to Laguna Quilotoa to Latacunga, Ecuador
Originally, I wanted to follow the suggested route in the guidebook to do a circuit from Latacunga to the west through the mountains, passing through Andean villages like Zumbahua, Quilotoa, Chugchilan, etc… before returning to Latacunga. However, I was warned that the altitudes of these villages are way above 3500m and it would be very very very freezing cold at night. Also, the hostels along this route would be very basic.
Hmm… the sleeping bag I have is for 1C – 8C and I was just comfortable at around 8C to 10C when I was in Bogotá and Quito. Herman, my macho Bogotá host, who did the ice-trekking trip up in the Huaraz mountains, had burst out laughing when he saw my sleeping bag. Is that for the beach?, he had insulted.
While many tourists come to Ecuador end up buying the warm woolly sweaters, so far, I have resisted the temptation. Some of them looked quite nice, but I know I would never ever use them in Singapore. So, I would not buy any sweater unless I am extremely extremely cold, near death. Hence, I would wait for that moment… perhaps in Peru or Bolivia.
I decided instead that I would base myself in Latacunga and just make a trip to view Laguna Quilotoa. I caught the 10am bus to Laguna Quilotoa. I had repeatedly asked if the bus took us all the way to Laguna Quilotoa, and not just to the village of Quilotoa. The driver said ‘yes’. He also informed me that the bus would leave at 3pm from Laguna Quilotoa for the ride back to Latacunga. Perfect.
The ride was through spectacular mountains, many lined with squares of farms, no matter how steep the mountain looked. We passed through tiny villages and more paramo bushes. There were llamas and cows with Indian villagers herding them. Everywhere was a typical picture-perfect scene representative of rural Ecuador, but of course, it was not possible to take these pictures.
As yesterday was market day at Saquisili, several villagers were heading back today with their purchases. At Zumbahua, the assistant had climbed on top of the bus and handed down pairs of chickens tied at the feet, sacks of goods, etc… down to the villagers. Then, we pressed on to Quilotoa. Here, as the assistant brought down the purchases of the villagers, it turned out one guy had an entire sack missing! It was no longer on the roof! Sheesh, there had been a mistake then. The sack was probably dropped off at Zumbahua! The guy was screaming mad, saying that it cost him US$18 and he demanded that the assistant pay him back the money. Oh no, poor thing! Another village drama… How would this end as well?
We stopped for a long time, with the driver and the assistant talking to the guy. In the end, I did not know how it was resolved. I just heard something about ‘mañana’ (tomorrow) muttered several times. Poor things, I feel so sorry for them. US$18 is not a small amount, but it was not the fault of the assistant either as all the sacks and chickens look the same!
We reached Laguna Quilotoa at around 12:45pm. I was with 2 other French tourists. We went past a narrow gap between the rocks and emerged to see the crater lake with brilliant turqoise-emerald water. Wow, it was lovely. After helping one another take pictures, I headed down the path. Yesterday, when I inquired about the ‘tour’, the guy at my hostel had told me it would take 45 minutes to go down, and 1 hour and 30 minutes to come up. OK, I would go down for about 30 minutes and see how I feel.
The path was rather sandy. At certain points, we were walking between the rocks in a tiny gap. Sometimes, the path was rather steep, and that made walking down the sandy path rather tricky. When I tried to hold on to the sides of the crater, everything just disintegrated into dust. I paused several times to admire the lake. The French tourists did not come down, so I was totally alone. Finally, after about 35 minutes of more-or-less rather easy descent, I seemed to have lost the path as the ground spread out flat. I followed one path which I thought might be it, but ended up on a cliff. When I turned back, I suddenly was not too sure which was the return path now. Gulp.
Anyway, I decided not to head down further as I had seen very black clouds gathering in the sky. I tried to trace my way back when I heard the first of the deep-throated rumble of the thunder. Oh no… I did not fancy being caught out here in the rain with the steep sandy path, down into the crater lake! I managed to spot some footsteps and shit of mules to follow. But I found that after 4 or 5 steps, I would be thoroughly breathless!! No wonder, the guy from yesterday had said we would need 1 hour and 30 minutes to climb back up. Gosh, I did not have 1 hour and 30 minutes! I had a storm to beat!
There was some serious huffing and puffing as I made my way up slowly. Each time I hear the thunder, I move a little quicker, but it was very difficult. I felt like I was dying of breath! Naturally, I could only hear my own panting, but when I stopped breathing for a moment (just an experiment), I could actually hear my heart beating as well!! Very loudly indeed! In the end, I took about 40-45 minutes to return back to the top when the first of the rain came down. Wow, what a hike indeed.
Later, after a cup of bland tepid chocolate (marketed as hot chocolate, no less, by the villagers), I walked up to the viewing mirador of the crater lake again. There, I got to chatting with a guy. He told me the altitude here was 3880m, nearly 4000m. What the hey? No wonder, I nearly died down there. He asked me if I wanted to stay the night, but no, I told him there was a bus leaving at 3pm. No bus, he claimed. I suspected he was trying to persuade me to stay the night at his hostel. So, he would try to use these tricks to get us to stay. No, the bus driver told me there would be a bus at 3pm, I insisted. Yes, but only if there were passengers from that bus that wanted to come all the way to Laguna Quilotoa. If there were no passengers in the bus after the village Quilotoa, the bus would turn back from there to Latacunga, he explained.
Just then, a guy with a truck passed by and this person whistled to him to stop. He suggested that I should hitch a ride with this truck guy. After all, the chance of a bus at 3pm was very rare and the later it was, the more expensive the ride would cost. Argh, now I was confused. This place did look very deserted. And if what he theorised was right, then, there was indeed a chance that I could not head back. The other option of staying here at this altitude, with not enough preparation was even worse.
The truck guy would only go to Zumbahua and said that there were frequent buses back to Latacunga from there. The price he quoted was US$2. I saw the French tourists were already on the truck. Alright, he seemed an OK guy, and while US$2 was too much for the ride back to Zumbahua, he did not quote me a ridiculous price of say, US$8 or whatever. Anyway, after seeing the paintings from Guayasamin and the village dramas of yesterday and today, I felt that US$2 would mean much more to the villagers than to me. So, I hopped on.
My entire ‘tour’ cost me about US$6. I did not eat lunch, but if I ate something, OK… it would cost me, at most, US$8. Gosh, imagine those people who pay US$25 for the tour to the same place, doing the same thing!
Tags: 07) Crossing Ecuador Line
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