The Andean Lady
Our flight landed in Quito at 2345 the night before the pre trip-birding tour was to begin. We had been told that we would be met at the airport by a representative from the hotel we would be staying at so we cleared the airport and visitor security and made our way through throngs of people eagerly awaiting many of our fellow passengers.
The language was obviously entirely Spanish, the smells were damp and different to our curious Canadian noses and the security process was suspicious as we observed an elderly gentleman push through the crowd with an irritated contempt for the uniformed officers who manned the unpowered scanning machines. After some thought, it occurred to us that our luggage had been scanned when we left the US and unless we were missing something there would be no opportunity to corrupt or smuggle any contraband so this really was a redundant process. Being polite and Canadian however, we merely observed this gentleman’s activity with tired interest, and continued our wait to take our turn through the check in process. We were impressed with the level of security applied at the exit from arrivals when guards visually confirmed our luggage numbers. Marilyn had safely stowed the baggage claims into one of the pockets in the carry on bag so there was some “excitement” generated as zippered pockets were investigated. After a minute or more of searching many zippered closed compartments, the tickets were located and we were free to leave the secure area.
The agent who was meant to meet us at the airport had much less patience than we did and left after teasing us with a wee glimpse of his handheld signage, indicating our hotel and a name we did not recognize. The next flurry of activity was with the multitude of cab drivers, myriad of private vehicle entrepreneurs and masses of strangers offering to move our luggage and us to wherever we desired to go. Offers followed by “… a tip for me?”
Having noticed a taxi window inside the terminal we proceeded to obtain a ticket to our hotel and headed back out into the darkness to get a cab. Quickly loaded the cab proceeded to fly through the dimly lit night, flying past garlands of graffiti decorating the shuttered up doorways and windows of the city. Through red lights and interchanges, under and over overpasses, past vacant sidewalks we plummeted into the centre of the city. As we neared our hotel we began to observe some human activity, groups standing on street corners mildly curious as we passed by.
Safely on the well-lit doorstep of our hotel, we happily tip the cab driver for not having an accident on the way here. In the better light we see that the vehicle we were riding in had had it’s share of “adventures.”
It was now nearing 01:00 and we had been up for more than 21 hours and were really looking forward to hitting the bed for the early start we knew we would need. We approached the fine young man at the check in desk and gave our names. No luck. We gave the tour name. No luck. We spelled out our name. No. We dug once again into the well-stashed paperwork and provided our tour information. No. He offered to rent us a new room and we pulled out our credit card ready to get that bed and fix the problem in the morning. As the credit card was being retrieved from that well secured zippered compartment, he decided to use “phone a friend.” That conversation ended with him flipping the computer screen around, where for our viewing pleasure we saw that we our reservation had been made in the name of GRUFF. Seeing the humour in this inadvertently, however aptly applied error we all enjoyed a good laugh – the universal language. J J
Our bags were delivered to the room where we would spend the next 4 hours until rising to meet up with the other couple and our tour guide. The only information we had received so far had been that there would be an early start on Day 1. To us that means 0630.
The sun rises at 0600 and sets at 1800 with a variation of 5 to 10 minutes either way so it was easy enough to be successful at early rising. We made our way to the lobby where we laid eyes upon our fellow travelers. Uh oh. Dressed in well worn trek garb, the couple appeared to be a wee bit older than us and we feared that we had been partnered with ornithologists or certainly biologists who maintained scientific lists and held obscure professional conversations. There would be no room for our improvising – wing it birding process. We were doomed.
Introductions were made all round and it was determined that we would have time to have a quick buffet breakfast before we loaded into the mini van with our driver and guide. Over breakfast the conversation swiftly determined that none of us were the scientific gurus that the other had feared. During the half hour of breakfast conversation the four of us became at ease and were comforted in the absence of “listers” or scientists among us.
Happy and excited with the prospect of the next few days and the intimacy of such a small group we headed for the Andean hills.
It swiftly became evident that there may be other issues within the group however when we made one of our first stops along a country road. We had exited the vehicle armed with binoculars and cameras. We had slopped on the sunscreen lotion; our heads were protected with Tilley headgear and our feet were shod with proper walking shoes. We quietly participated in spotting and spying on newfound species while enjoying the emerald farmed sections of the mountainous countryside, the abundant purple, red, blue and yellow wildflowers cultivated as houseplants in Canada and the quiet tinkle of cow bells from a nearby farm. The tinkle of the bell became louder as we stood in silence peering over the edge of the ditch. Quietly emerging onto the roadway was an elderly lady leading her dairy cow. She calmly passed by us and our vehicle. “Bonus Dias” she says. “Bonus Dias.” The entire group reciprocates. Filled with a sense of wonder and amazement at what has just transpired, the time warp effect combined with an overwhelming sense of amazement at differences and similarities in people and the world in general, Marilyn receives a reality check with Barry’s comment: “You know, with that hat on, all you need is a cow and you would look just like her.”
Facial expressions cannot kill, but they can indicate – Game on!
Any remnants of ice or concerns over compatibility were instantly broken and the entire trip remained a jest - with everyone seeking opportunities to tease, joke and generally play. While birding lists were maintained a more serious list of who had taken or given the most or best shots - set precedence!
Embedded Picasa Album
Click the Andean Lady photo to open the Ecuador & Galapagos Album -
Thanks for the tip, Sean, Roo, and Aiden.. XOX
Thanks for the tip, Sean, Roo, and Aiden.. XOX
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