#2417: Cuenca, Ecuador

Post 2417

- 9 years and 35 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written about Jan 31-Feb 3, 2020)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 9 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent. 

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I'm in Cuenca, Ecuador. I landed Friday, it's Tuesday, as I write this - I've had three-and-a-half full days in Cuenca.

My first impressions are positive, but I don't feel I've done enough exploring, looking around or making connections, although I have made definite progress in all three categories.

The reason I'm a little dissatisfied is because in every single place I've ever traveled to in my life, I've hit the ground running. Here in Ecuador, I've hit the ground panting. Because the ground is very, very high above sea-level.

There are a lot of ways altitude sickness can express itself. Some are pretty dramatic. That was definitely not my situation. Instead, I had the two most common symptoms - fatigue and sleeplessness.

Some people have none. Bless their hearts. (You might have to know me to get that). I actually feel pretty lucky, because the absence of any worse symptoms encouraged me that I would adapt pretty quickly.

That's what's called foreshadowing in the writing biz (about which, I claim little knowledge).

My route from LA was to Panama City (Panama) to Quito (Ecuador) to Cuenca. FWIW, none of these places is in (or like) Kansas, either.

Through the plane's window, landing in Quito, Ecuador. Quito is, by far, Ecuador's largest city. It is in a valley in the Andes at 9600' above sea-level. That probably deserved an exclamation point. I was there (in the airport) for about six hours. 

When I landed in Quito, elevation 9600', I had a six-hour layover. I travel light, always - everything in a backpack and a laptop shoulder bag. This time I had a Steinberger bass in a flight case with me, which meant I was lugging around about fifty-or-so pounds, unevenly distributed between my back and arms.

Going through immigration, a short walk from the plane, I found myself a little breathless. Standing in line and not carrying the bass, it passed pretty quickly. Immigration was a snap, the Quito airport at that time wasn't busy. I went reconnoitering my departure gate, only to find there hadn't been one assigned yet.

That's when the altitude really got to me. By the time I got to the international departure area, I had walked across the street to another building, taken an escalator one flight up, and walked across a bridge across the street to the second floor of the building I'd come from, and I was panting like mile four of a 10K race.

I'm not that out of shape. I realized this was my immediate response to the altitude, and thinner air.

Luckily, I didn't have to do much of anything for the next four hours.

For the first time in memory, the gate assigned to my flight is the closest gate to the waiting area.

Initially, Tame Airlines gave me some static about carrying on my bass (in contrast to every single other flight I'd taken it on). But when I explain that this is the eighth flight I've taken in the last month (actually, six weeks, but I didn't trust my Spanish or their English), and had been permitted to carry it on, no problems, by Delta, EVA and Copa airlines, I was waved through.

Cuenca is, similarly to Quito, in a valley surrounded by Andes peaks, but about a thousand feet lower than the capital city.

It made a slight difference. By the time I got to my bed-and-breakfast, at about 8:30pm, I was done. In the preceding thirty-nine hours, I've had about four hours of sleep (on the flight to Panama).

The place is great - the bathroom is terrific (in Chiang Mai, the bathrooms are never terrific), and that makes up for the really small bedroom. They're both about 8' x 10'. Even on the ten-minute, three dollar cab ride from the airport, I can tell it's nicely located near the city's center.

I have no sense of place, though. Not yet. I am greeted, in perfect English, at the desk. This place is larger than it looks from the outside, and the first floor has a lounge, a courtyard (under a huge skylight four flights up), a bar, and a cafeteria (for breakfast - which is served from eight-to-ten, and I promise here and now I'll check it out, although I never eat breakfast that early. Anywhere).

Remember I mentioned that three-dollar cab ride? That's US dollars. In 1999, at the behest of the IMF, Ecuador dollarized. The government converted, then killed, their sucre and went fully over to using the US dollar for currency. There is no currency conversion for me here. In fact, I've brought three hundred dollars in small bills (and a roll of quarters(=) with me, because I've heard it can be difficult-to-impossible to change bills larger than a twenty, and even that can sometimes be a challenge in places like the mercados.

So, I get to my room at the Hotel Balcón del Arte and crash. But I don't sleep. I'm not restless, really, but sleep won't come. I write a little, read a trashy Dean Koontz story, watch some stuff on Netflix, work on my budget (I'm fine tuning for 2020, still), catch up on my email. I'm yawning, but not sleepy in the least.

Sunup is about 6:30 am (year-round, btw: Cuenca is so close to the equator, that the seasonal variation is less than fifteen minutes throughout the year). I see this, because the curtains to my outward-facing window (from which there is no view - on the second floor, downtown, I'm not above any rooflines) aren't light-blocking.

No big deal, because today I have a pre-arranged breakfast meeting with Richard, the moderator of a Facebook page for Cuenca Expats, at 8:45am. Even though I haven't eaten in about sixteen hours, I'm not hungry.

My brain is telling my I'm not tired, either, but my body feels heavy (which it is not, thank you).

The Sunshine Café is only an eleven-minute walk from the Balcón, according to Google Maps, so I'm showered, dressed, and out the door, layered and carrying an umbrella. I'm not going to lie, though: I'm moving slow, and I'm still feeling overly fatigued when I arrive (in a little under fifteen minutes. It ain't a race, Google Maps).

I ask for Richard at the counter, and I'm smilingly pointed to a nearby table. The Sunshine Café is a gringo restaurant. It specializes in gringo breakfasts: variations on egg dishes. But it does this very well, and while not inexpensive compared to the kinds of bargains Ecuador is famous for, it is still a great value compared with the States. I'm not particularly hungry, and I'm most interested in coffee (and water). I end up ordering a fruit bowl with yogurt and granola.


The table for six fills up with Canadians (I like Canadians). It becomes a Q&A with Richard, and he seems to have all the answers. And unhesitatingly gives references and referrals. No strings: He doesn't even want you to buy him a coffee. I'm very encouraged.

And really tired.

The walk back to my room is slower, not so much from the fatigue as from my wanting to look around a bit more without a deadline to make - to look into places I'd walked by on my way to breakfast.

I take a daylight look around the Balcón, and I like what I see even more than my first impression.

I try to nap, but end up browsing TripAdvisor for restaurant recommendations. I not only want to see what people think are the best places to eat, but try to get an idea of which of those places are close by. Which is how I happen onto Capitan.

This seafood restaurant is about three blocks from me, and is extremely well-loved by the folks on TripAdvisor.

It also happens to be open when I'm finally hungry enough to eat - around 9 pm.

It is one of the smallest restaurants I've ever eaten in. The only smaller one that comes to mind was a two-table, reservation-only place in Lisbon. Total diner capacity: Sixteen!

There is a velvet rope across the open front door when I get there, and before I'm let in, the man consults a woman at the register/counter whether there will be room, if anybody else has a reservation (having ascertained that I do not have one).

She gives the okay, I'm let in, she smiles, squeezes my arm, shows me to a smaller, four-seat corner table (well, they're actually all corner tables, but the other two tables seat six), The decor is simple, but vivid. It is all nautical-themed, against hot red walls.

And, there's a guitar on the wall. After I order, I point to it, and, using gestures, ask if I might play a little. I get a smiling nod, yes, take it off the wall. It's almost (relatively) in tune. I think it might be tuned a step down, but I'm not going to retune it - I don't know who tuned it, and maybe they did it because they needed to make it easier to play. 

I sing a couple of songs, to the approval of the remaining pair of diners and the staff, and then dinner comes.

The food is excellent. Perfectly prepared and fresh ingredients.

By the time I'm halfway through, I'm the only diner left. When I finish, with a few minutes left before closing, I decide to serenade the owners and staff. They won't let me stop. They're taking photos, maybe videos, applauding, even as the backroom staff is coming in and out getting ready to close.

I find out that el Capitan is Ori, the cook, and his wife, Julia is the hostess. They are enthusiastically friendly.

We take some pictures together, and both hug me and ask me, in halting English to come back again.

Which, of course, I will. I would have been back for the food and service, even without a guitar. But I reflect on the walk home how I've been in Cuenca for about twenty-four hours, and I've already gotten a chance to do some playing. That beats my time in both Chiang Mai and Lisbon. But I haven't connected with the music scene. Yet.

I'm at ease (even as I am huffing and puffing a little as I climb the flight of stairs to my room) and I know I've had a very good day..

I have asked on the Cuenca Expats page for some guidance to open mics and possible playing situations.

When I get back to my room, there is a Private Message response, a guitar player who would like to get together and maybe jam with me.

We arrange to meet for lunch on Super Bowl Sunday. I go to bed, feeling like I have another sleepless night coming. Sadly, I'm right.

We meet at Parqué Calderon, the center of Cuenca's center, a well-known spot for hanging out by Cuencanos, expats and tourists. My new friend Martin lives in a penthouse, but it is a six-and-a-half floor walkup. I am not up for that. Arthritis, as well as energy-robbing altitude fatigue, compounded by sleep-deficit. 

He is understanding. He offers, if I'm up for it, a 'nickel tour' on the way to a restaurant he wants me to know about. It is a walk to one of the two rivers that flow through Cuenca. Tomorrow, as it turns out, I'll see the other one.

It is quite pleasant, even though I'm still fairly quickly out-of-breath, stopping every once in a while, for a few seconds even, and I'm good to go... for a little while longer, and it gets us there. There is on the banks of Rio Tomebamba.

The Tomebamba, though, divides Old Town from the rest of Cuenca, to the south.

The Tomebamba River. It seems lovely. Also, the sun has come fully out for the first time since I arrived - Cuenca is typically overcast, for much of the day.

The restaurant is a multi-story affair right on the water, and it's closed. The owner, who knows Martin, explains they are having special hours for the SuperBowl. We eat at a restaurant close by. A friend of Martin's and her companion are at the table next to us.

Martin is not the guide that Richard was - and that's fine, that's not what I'm here for today, and he suggests I ask his friends any questions I have I have one (that Marin professes not to know the answer to: How do you call a cab? Although Uber claims to have service in Cuenca, the app says they don't.

I'm rewarded with a reference to a local taxi company's app. Unfortunately, it is entirely in Spanish, and it will take me some time to figure out how to use it. 

My conversation with Martin gives me some good insight, as we exchange musician's stories. I sense he's disappointed that I can't come up to his place, but I think when I've got acclimated, it won't be the prohibitive problem for me it is now.

When Martin leaves to walk back, although I originally had thought I'd hang at the now open Inca Bar, I change my mind and decide to (slowly) take this long flight of stairs to the street to catch a cab back to my hotel. I am feeling really tired, and I hope to go out to a Super Bowl party in a few hours. I'm praying for a nice nap first.

Shops and apartments along the Tomebamba River

The stairs to the street above the river.

The view from halfway up the stairs.

I try to use my new app to call a cab, but it's entirely in Spanish, and there are words I don't know. I mistakenly enter my destination, as I would with Uber or Grab. I later found out you're supposed to enter your pickup point. I ended up walking back - remember, I'd walked there, it wasn't all that far - which, once I'd rested waiting for the cab that didn't come, was pretty enjoyable.

It was a comfortable, warm partly cloudy/sunny day and I was down to a t-shirt and carrying my over-shirt. It was nearly five when I got back to my room, and the Super Bowl started at 6:30. I didn't care about the Super Bowl, and it wasn't fatigue, but lack of sleep that ended my day without going out again. At around eight, I ate some gummy THC, and soon got some good sleep.

I'm not going to say a lot about the next day. I felt fine, with no traces of the fatigue I'd experienced the first two-and-a-half days, since Quito. 

I bought some pot and had a wonderful, wide-ranging conversation that ran all afternoon, with a great view of Cuenca. I made a friend and I have a pic from his terrace:

View towards downtown Cuenca (way on the horizon before the mountains) from the South. My friend's third floor terrace. Sitting out there making an afternoon of conversation was as pleasant an experience as one could have. That this unfolded so quickly is, to be honest, a big plus for the city to me.

On the way back, I went to a recommended place to buy some paraphernalia (and a lighter. You can't fly with a lighter) and had a very nice and pleasant (and still a bit stoned) walk back, and decided to venture into Parqué Calderón, usually a tourist first-stop. It is definitely pretty and tranquil, although a bit smaller than I'd imagined.

Selfie time. See the 'headline' picture up top.

Walking back from the park, I caught a nice view (at the beginning of dusk) of some towers I'd seen, but I have no idea what they're called.

Pretty, huh? I appreciate them, but don't know a thing about them. Well, I know it's a church. But besides that, not a thing. Even though I've seen pictures of them before, so I also know they're famous. But besides that...

And that's where we're going to leave the play-by-play.

First impressions:
I find Cuenca pretty, but not as pretty as Chiang Mai or Lisbon. But I've seen a small percentage of it, and really, by my third whole day, I'd really only ventured out a day's worth.

Every single person I've met in Cuenca, expat or Cuencano, has been friendly, pleasant, and helpful. Every one has been enthusiastic about the City.

I am finding, so far, that Cuenca is a very walkable city, like Chiang Mai, very much unlike Lisbon. That's huge.

Information I've gotten and my limited experience so far pretty much confirms the cost of living: It is low, which is excellent. I can live here for about 50-60% of what it costs in Syracuse.

One big thing that I actually realized today, right before I finished writing this: Cuenca is not a late-night town. During the week, every place I've been to (and heard about) closes at.. ten! 

That is going to be a bigger adjustment for me than the altitude.

Still, the bottom line is that, discounting the brief period of time it took to acclimate, I have had only positive experiences here.

I'm immeasurably grateful. It's a good time, so far, and right now.

Food Comment

At Capitan, I had sea bass and shrimp with coconut milk herb sauce. The sea bass was perfect the shrimp were great and the sauce was amazing! And I had such a good time. You'll be seeing other dishes from here during my stay, because I'll be coming back.

From Cosita's, which specializes in grilled Ecuadorian fare, barbecued chicken and sausage, with aki and cheese, sauteed potatoes and onions (hidden by the chicken, an excellent picante sauce, and two blobs of starch I can't identify, but were good-tasting.

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