Part Three: 9 Days, a Bicycle, The Pacific Ocean and A New Year

We woke up the first morning in Puerto Lopez to a beautiful day.  We stayed with a relative of a friend (not exactly sure to who they were related to or how, but it's a free place to crash), whose house was perched on the top of yet another hill.  The house was one large room with a complete wrap around porch, exposed to the mosquitoes and wind.  Looking out from the porch, all of Puerto Lopez was in view, the vast Pacific glistening in the distance.


We had a late breakfast at a local cafe and hired a taxi to take us to Los Friales, part of Machilla National Park.  First off, a taxi here is unlike a taxi anywhere else I have known.  A motorcycle is attached to a small wooden box where you sit.  However, when their are 3 seats and we are 5 people, things get a little more interesting.  The lucky 2 are place behind the wooden box, sitting on a piece of wood just a few inches thick, feet dangling to the ground and sucking in exhaust from the motorcycle.  I was among the lucky two.  Once again, a new experience....


We pulled into Los Friales about 5 miles later and walked onto what may be the most beautiful beach I have ever seen.  The water was clear, warm and calm.  Similar to Red Rocks amphitheater in Morrison, Co, the beach had giant red rock formations surrounding the sand, protecting the beach and giving it a majestic feeling.  We were completely enclosed by natural beauty.  My words will not do justice to the true beauty of this place (hopefully pictures will help, coming very soon!).  We wanted to really work up a sweat before going into the water, so we decided to play a game of ultimate frizby, however, we did not have a frisby... We used the most logical thing, a mango, of course!  Ultimate mango was the game, boys vs. girls.  After a crushing defeat by the boys (somewhere around 20-0) and a mango which looked as if it had seen better days, we took to the water.


I had swam in the Pacific on this trip already, however, this just felt different, it was perfect.  The hot sun, the warm water... life was great.  We rented snorkling gear and set out for some venturing.  From previous experiences in Puerto Rico with my brother, I remember to make sure my back was completely covered in sun screen.  I swam among wild and different fish, octopus, coral and many more things I knew were there, just failed to see.  I had been told that there were sharks, but they were small and harmless, nothing to worry about. The sharks we need to worry about, the hammerhead, are up the beach further.  Still, the feeling is a little uneasy.  A few times, I would be startled by a giant splashes in the water next to me, raising my head in time to see a pelican that had dove into the ocean, suckling down a struggling fish.  They glided gracefully, brushing the top of the water with their bellies... a magnificent creature.  


The sea food eating continued that night and new "beach" drinks were consumed as well.  Completely following the group was a wise decision, as they never did me wrong.  Blindly giving away a few dollars and being rewarded every time with a delicious drink or food, which I otherwise would not have known to order.  I was being taught to Salsa in between taking tastes of this food or that drink.  When I simply had no energy (dancing is a lot of work) I would sit down, look out at the ocean and remember where I was and how lucky I was to be there.  I would sit just long enough for that feeling to fill my body and mind before being pulled up to dance again.  We danced in the sand until the bar had closed.


Leaving Puerto Lopez was sad, but as we had done so many days before, we had to ride again.  This, however, would be the final trip on the bike.  Making our way into Montanita was a great feeling of accomplishment.  I had worried a fair amount about my bodies ability to handle the long trip.  The only sore part of my body was the bottom of my left food.  Everything else held up just fine.  I had not yet meantioned this, but the bike I borrowed from my boss at work had broken before I left, leaving me unable to change the gears.  That's right... 200km on a fixed gear bike.  Imagine those hills now...  


Montanita is a much large place than Puerto Lopez, many more people and a completely different atmosphere than dancing on a beach that you have pretty much to yourself.  Once again, we were staying with a relative of one of the bikers, Andrea.  Her aunt runs a hostel and let us stay in the family section of the house.  It was beautiful.  Once again, exposed walls looking to the ocean, now with large hammocks that I frequently found myself napping.  Andrea's cousin took us out that night to really experience Montanita.  The night started off slow and I was rather tired, however, there was no turning back once the group got going and did it ever get going.  As you walk the crowded streets, vendors line the side all selling the same 30 or 40 drinks.  After every 10 vendors or so, there would be food stands.  Choclo con queso, various grilled meats, ceviche...  Nobody spoke English.  Apparently we had entered the Chilean and Argentinian spring break and were completely surrounded by young, drunk, screaming high school and college students.  I have never experienced a Cancun spring break (or any other "spring break" destination), but this certainly was the equivalent for South Americans. We went dancing, we sang karaoke, we ran in the sand and water and at 7am, we went to sleep.


That's how this place is.  I spend 3 nights here (far too many) and 24 hours a day there is a constant beat from some club where people are still partying.  The place literally never sleeps and I saw no more than 4 or 5 police officers the entire time I was there.  We went to the beach the next morning and my view of Montanita started to slip, eventually turning into a landslide.  Among all those Chilean and Argentinian's now sitting on the beach, getting sun burnt and working off a hangover, were all the bottles, cups and garbage from the night before, lining the beach and floating away to sea.  The thought literally made me sick.  There was such little respect for such a beautiful place.  Each night and each morning was the same.


Despite my growing dislike for the place, I stayed, waiting for two friends from Yellowstone that I had literally ran into on the streets of Quito 2 weeks prior.  We had agreed to meet here for New Years Eve and without cell phones, there was no way to tell them that we should switch plans.  They arrived and my mood was lifted.  It is nice to speak English to a fellow English speaker.  I had gotten so used to living in a solely Spanish speaking world, that I  had forgotten what it was like to constantly use English.  We wandered Monanita, sharing the same opinions for the most part.  Strangely we kept seeing these large paper mache figures.  Anything you could imagine, Bart Simpson, Barney, a Fender 15 feet tall.  Not until midnight did we realize what they were for.  


We walked through the crowds, taking in a completely different New Years Eve than any of us had ever experienced.  Honestly, it was too overwhelming.  Deciding the beach would be the best place to count down the new year, we squirmed our way through cheering hands and spilling drinks.  Once on the beach we saw a huge circle with a fire in the middle, people jumping through it, hoping they had enough leg to get all the way over.  In the middle of the fire were all the paper mache figures.  When we got there, Woody from Toy Story was melting away.  Apparently it is tradition in Ecuador to do this.  People make paper mache figures (often politicians), read their crimes and wrong doings from the year before, and then burn them, giving a fresh and clean start for the new year.  


Not a favorite New Years, though better than the last.  There was a new feeling inside of me, one of hope and good things to come for the next year.  I hope the feeling lasts and I hope it is true.


Returning to Quito was a wonderful feeling.  I had my own bed to look forward to, a home cooked meal and a day of nothing before returning to work.  I was unable to do anything that next day.  The bus had pulled in at 430 in the morning and when I finally had made it home, I slept til 1030am.  Rising for a short time, long enough to get some food, read a few chapters and check email, I fell back asleep at 2pm, this time not waking til 6pm.  Again, I only had energy for about 3 hours before my eyelids had shut, this time for the night.  I cannot remember any time in recent memory where I had needed to sleep so badly.  


All in all, this was an experience I am so happy to have been a part of.  I discovered that I really enjoy long distance bike trips and would like to continue doing them when I return to the states.  I found a love for the Pacific Coast of Ecuador, the animals and trees, so new to me.  I made several good friends who I will keep in touch with for years to come.  I got a great sun tan, tried new foods and proved to myself that I do have a little muscle (even if it does not show on my skinny body).  I left with a bitter taste in my mouth for the final destination of the trip, but looking back, there was so much more than just Montanita.  I left, wanting to go back to many of the other places I had seen and explore the many of the places I left for my next trip.