Monday, January 31, 2022

#2782, Monday, January 31, '22: Recap plus birthday

Reverend Ken's Travel Blog
Post 2782
- 12 years and 31 days since I started this blog -
Winter Travel Journal

(written Jan 31, 2022)
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 12 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, originally 7 days a week, then 5, but lately it has become occasional. 
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.
So much has happened since I wrote. To begin at the end, I am writing this in my new residence, at the Hotel Balcón del Artes, where I stayed when I was in Cuenca two years ago. The apartment I rented was lacking in some amenities, and when I was in quarantine, these admittedly little things added up to me not wanting to stay there. So I went with something I knew was good, and familiar.

But I really need to begin at the beginning - or at least where I left off last post, with me finally getting to play bass at an open mic, new to me, at Bistro Yaku.

The restaurant was set up very nicely for an open mic, with a nice stage perfectly proportioned for the room. It was raining lightly when I walked in, through the lobby of the Hostal Yakumamma, then through the open-air courtyard

Once in the restaurant, I was immediately greeted by George, who used to host my favorite Cuenca open mic at the now-closed Kamaq Restaurante. He greeted me by name, told me I would have a bass amp to play through, and offered to let me use his probably-the-only-one-in-Ecuador Warwick Double-Buck Streamer. Which I did, but only for a song, before going back to my perfectly set-up for me Steinberger XL2TT. Also, without a doubt, 
the only one in Ecuador. Or, maybe, South America.

But I digress. I enjoyed an opening house band set and a half-dozen or so singer-guitarists before I was called up. I had some old friends a new friend - a young guitarist - to back me up. I started with a bass-and-vocal solo, doing my take on the Animals' We Gotta Get Out of This Place. Then I brought up the other players, and taught them, on stage, an easy-to-teach song, Chris Isaak's Wicked Games. Bill Withers' Who Is He?, my signature jam song (because I can teach it to anyone in 30 seconds), finished my set.

The reception was very gratifying. It turns out, a few non-musician audience members remembered me from a couple of years ago, and the other musicians, and George, gave me enough compliments to make me blush.

That's George, checking the sound while I perform Wicked Games.

Here I am, finishing up Who Is He?, with some help from Mike on harp.
The rest of the night was great, including a set by a Cuencano indigenous folk group that really blew me away, with their exotic instrumentation and solid groove. I got to play again, for a couple of different songs, and then it was my turn to back up young Paul, for some blues instrumentals, and finally, I took the mic again for the solo-heavy version of the Rolling Stones' country blues tune, No Expectations.

That was my night, or it would have been, if only I hadn't left my phone on the table when I went back to the studio. On my way out, I got to express my appreciation to the Cuencanos who had delivered such a fine set earlier. They told me they'd really enjoyed my stuff, too. I got all excited, and walked out the door. I was immediately followed by the waiter, who apologized for not bringing the check when I'd asked, but reminding me that I still had to pay. Which I did, happily, but kind of pissed with myself for my senior moment.

I walked the seven blocks back to the studio, emptied my pockets and realized I didn't have my phone. Ten minutes' walking time later, I was back at the bistro, and, literally everybody in the restaurant, customers and staff alike, yelled, "You forgot your phone!" as my waiter handed it to me. All I could do was shrug and thank them.

Thursday. my friend Felipe collected me and brought me to a café he liked and whose management he was friendly with. The coffee was great and the food was excellent.


Friday, after a late breakfast (all my breakfasts are late breakfasts. Most people would call my first meal of the day lunch) I visited the Balcón, to try and make a deal and change my dates, slightly. I had made a mistake in my AirBnB booking. In fact, the big mistaked was not calling the owner, Nestor, directly. I would definitely have gotten a better deal, and some latitude for changing. Going through AirBnB tied his hands. Any action he would have taken would have cost him money and possibly his Superhost status. 

I did, however, get to choose my room, and my new room is much nicer than my room two years ago, so there's that.

Walking back, who do I encounter but the Cuencano group (well, three out of four) playing on the street! They didn't even have a tip jar out, they were just playing for the fun of it. We recognized each other at the same time, and they immediately asked me to join them. We did an Andean version of a pop tune I recognized the changes to, but not the melody, which was okay, because I was on cajón (box drum) and all I had to do was not screw up the groove. 

Then, they surprised me, in the best possible way, by starting up an amazing version of Wicked Games, which they had heard me do Wednesday. With my added vocals, we drew a little crowd. I was ecstatic. I live for this kind of musical adventure. I have no photo or video record of this event, but I was grinning for hours after. A peak memory.

The next day, Saturday, was my seventy-second birthday. I got up at 6am to pee, and, as I was going back to bed, my phone lit up. The day's first happy birthday message. I replied thanks. My friend responded immediately with "You're up?" to which I replied, "It happens!". 

It all ended up with me doing an interview for Chuck Shiele's music column in an upcoming Table Hopping. Look for it.

Excited and unable to get back to sleep, I did my morning ablutions, and headed out very early for birthday breakfast at San Seba Café. I wanted my LEO (lox, eggs and onions, what SSC calls a smoked salmon scramble - exact same thing - and, yes, the same thing I had last time, and every time two tears ago). 

I had to get my birthday breakfast in early, before a 'date' with Felipe, who was going to show up at noon. I did get a nice new shot of the domes.
Fat and happy after breakfast, I met Felipe at the hotel café he'd taken me last time. I had a fruit, yogurt and ice cream parfait for 'breakfast dessert', and a frozen cappuccino, which you can see at the very top of this post. Also, some great conversation. Felipe is just an amazing human.

Then I needed a nap.

From my last visit, I thought Orly and Julia at Capitán were expecting me, but I also had gotten an RSVP from my friend and fellow snowbird Tony, who I had met and hit it off with my first time in Cuenca, so I messaged them, and told them the start time.

After waiting an hour-and-a-half for a pot delivery, during which I enjoyed some bought-for-me tequila shots and a beer), I made it just in time. I was expected, and from my previous visit (and the fact that we're Facebook friends), they knew it was my birthday. I should have told them not to make a fuss. I doubt they would have accommodated me on that score, though. Quite the fuss was made, and the wine glasses were never empty.
This 100% candid shot of me sitting down to a main course of salmon and berry glaze was taken secretly by my friend Tony, who sensibly declined to get in the picture.
Julia bringing the birthday cake.
The birthday cake. All the pics from Capitán are from Tony.
Of course the night ended with some singing and strumming, with Tony joining in on the vocals when he could remember the words (these were my songs, after all). Tony's a pro, and I appreciated him joining in in the spirit of the night - he usually doesn't want to sing unrehearsed. 

By the end of the night, I was a bit drunker and stoneder than any previous time in Cuenca. A cab was in order.

It's a good thing I was handling the almost-four-hundred Facebook and Messenger and Instagram and Message birthday greetings throughout the day. I didn't even go on Facebook before going to sleep.

Sunday was, therefore, a down day, just for recovery. I woke up without hunger, still full from the day before, although, thankfully, sans hangover. I caught up with all the birthday greetings, and then went to Sofy Glocal for my one meal in the late afternoon. It was really good, something I hadn't seen on the always-changing menu before. This time, Sofy was there, as usual. It turns out, she had seen me at Bistro Yaku. Also, she had an incredible music channel on - I was singing along when I wasn't stuffing my face - Otis Redding, the Band, Motown, Sam & Dave, more from that era. It was awesome. 

Stuffed again, I went for a walk. My studio is only a short walk from Sofy's. I went out of my way, wanting to walk off some calories, then, unaccountably, got dessert at the corner ice cream store, and brought it up to the studio. 

Today is moving day. I'm now installed in the beautiful Hotel Balcón del Artes, and more comfortable than I ever was in the studio. My room even has a little balcony (which my room two years ago did not). Not much of a view, but still, a place to smoke without going up to the rooftop lounge.

I feel blessed, and, as always, full of gratitude.

Food Comment

Yes, you've seen this pic before, it was my first breakfast here this trip, and I had the exact same thing, what I call a LEO and San Seba calls a smoked salmon scramble. My idea of birthday breakfast. 
Thai curry with shrimp and mushrooms, from Sofy Glocal, my post-birthday, one meal indulgence. Absolutely awesome!

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Tuesday, January 25, 2022

#2781, Tuesday, January 25, '22: I return to living

Reverend Ken's Travel Blog
Post 2781
- 12 years and 25 days since I started this blog -
Winter Travel Journal

(written Jan 25, 2022)
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 11 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 ended my quarantine (total time, twelve-and-a-half days) last Saturday.

The first thing I did was get a cup of coffee. Symbolic. During my quarantine, I had none. My studio had none of the needed equipment for making it. The thirteen days I did without is likely the longest I've been without a cuppa joe in fifty-five years.

I was talking about my friend and benefactor Fenigno last time, and I want to make a correction right now: His first name, as he introduced himself to me two years ago, is Felipe. He uses his middle name in all his online stuff. When I saw that, I assumed that was his choice, and started referring to him has Fenigno. He told me doesn't like that, and now it is over. 

It is he that walked me to the courtyard of a beautiful hotel a few blocks from my studio for that cuppa, which was excellent. Great coffee here, and plenty of coffee-making expertise.
 
Next day, at around one, we went on a nice walk to further-away café, where I had breakfast (I eat late, and only two meals a day, 7-8 hours apart). The breakfast was good, al fresco, and there is a nice view, too. The café itself was amazing, being an art gallery with some very high-quality works. I met the proprietor, a Cuban-American expat living here for the last three years, and we had a wonderful conversation.
Wire and filigree sculpture at Flora Cafe
Flora Cafe is at the bottom of these stairs.
That night, I finally made my return to Capitan & Co (just Capitan to friends). I had made then cancelled my anticipated first visit two weeks ago. I was greeted with hugs and great exclamations of joy.

In real time, two years ago, I wrote about the first time I went there. I was treated as a friend, served an incredible meal (turns out, that's all they serve), and, when the meal was over, finding myself the only one in the place, asked if I could play the guitar hanging on the wall.

I was a big hit, and they amped up the friendliness, to the point where I felt I was treated like family when I went back. Since I left Cuenca last time, Orly and Julia (chef and hostess), had been keeping up with me via social media. When I made my previous reservation, then canceled because of illness, Julia told me she cried.

They regularly inquired about my health during my quarantine.

In my absence, the restaurant has been expanded. The kitchen is now a good size, as opposed to the cramped quarters Orly worked his magic in before.  And there is a new dining room (in addition to the small, front-of-the-house twelve-seater (if at least eight of the diners are very good friends) of two years ago). The dining room has a separate private room, as well. And it looks great and is very comfortable.

I would have to say that the hospitality and genuine affection I am shown may be the best thing about my visit, but that might give short shrift to the phenomenal seafood I had.

I had mentioned, after diners in the private room had gotten a cake with candles and Feliz Cumpleaños singing, that I had a birthday coming up, and I would be back to celebrate. Maybe I was misunderstood, but I got the full birthday treatment.

I ended the night as always, taking the guitar off the wall, and doing some songs for them (and their daughter, the entire staff of the restaurant that night). We all had a great time. Especially me, I think.
Orly (el Capitán) posing with me for Julia (photographer and hostess). 
Main dish, sea bass with spinach and shrimp sauce. It was spectacular. A glass of local red, and I am one happy, no, delighted, gringo.
Here are a couple of random, throw-in pics: 
Overlooking Rio Tomebamba

Mural on the south wall of the Mercado de Augusto Diez.
I'm going to leave it right there. I'm feeling healthy and strong. I'm grateful for that, and, of course, for my friends here, who have been so wonderful. And, I'm looking forward to re-establishing my rhythm now that I'm out and about again.
Food Comment
A POV shot of the main course at Capitán. I am told that this shot doesn't make it look very appetizing. That's on me. It was, in fact, a mouthwatering presentation that tasted as good (or, in this case, better than) it looked. Sea bass with spinach and shrimp sauce (includes shrimp). The bass and shrimp were cooked perfectly. The sides are perfectly seasoned steamed mixed vegetables and mashed sweet potatoes. The garnish is edible baby flowers.

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Wednesday, January 19, 2022

#2780, Wednesday, January 19, '22: Whole lotta nothing going on

Reverend Ken's Travel Blog
Post 2780
- 12 years and 19 days since I started this blog -

Winter Travel Journal

(written Jan 18-19, 2022)
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 11 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.
The last time I wrote, I had just tested positive for Covid.

I was already quarantining, and I still am.

It's been pretty boring. My screen time is somewhere around fourteen hours a day. And, I'm not going to start reviewing all the things I've been streaming.

Here's a status update: I feel fine. The crushing fatigue is gone. I'm still a little weak, but I'm doing things to completion (meal prep, washing dishes, eating), that, when that fatigue was a problem, I had to take breaks from completing.

Yesterday, I developed a little cough. Different than the one at the beginning of my illness, this one is productive. We'll see where that goes. It seems better today, and didn't interrupt my sleep at all.

I want to mention the support I've gotten from one individual, my friend Fenigno, former proprietor and chef of my favorite restaurant in Cuenca, A Pedir de Boca, now closed due to post-Covid bureaucracy. 

When I first got to Cuenca in 2020, I came straight from Chiang Mai, Thailand. I found A Pedir very early on. I went there for lunch, and some new friends I'd met were there. They said they came there often. I asked what to order, and was told they always had whatever was the special of the day.


The meal I had was delicious, and the presentation was beautiful. I was reminded of some of my favorite meals from Chiang Mai, a pretty well-known foodie destination, and the place that holds more of my favorite dishes than any other in the world.

The chef came out just as I was finishing up, asking in good English how I enjoyed my meal. I gave him his due, and was specific about what I'd liked and why. He asked how long I'd be in Cuenca. He gave me a map that was a walking tour of ceramics galleries and exhibits, and told me about his Wednesday Spanish classes.

I started, but never finished the tour - it simply couldn't be done in one outing. I attended the next three Spanish classes. I brought anybody who was interested in having a meal with me there. I took the two meetings I had with facilitators there. It was my favorite restaurant in Cuenca, and I never had a single disappointing bite of food there.

After I left Cuenca, we kept up with each other a little, 'liking' our posts on Facebook and Instagram. That's how I found out Felipe was actually Fenigno.

Near the end of June, 2021, due to the aftermath of the Covid measures and the ensuing bureaucracy of of reopening, A Pedir de Boca closed for good. I didn't find out until November, because there was only a brief message on Facebook.   

I had come back to the US to the full-blown pandemic situation. I didn't get home to Syracuse for eleven weeks after I'd originally intended to. I came back with the intention of moving to Cuenca permanently, but things happened, not the least of which was undergoing a quintuple-bypass operation (CABGx5). I changed my plans.

I'd decided to become a part-time Syracusan, eight months a year, with the Winter months spent traveling to visit friends and family in warmer climes, and to spend two-to-three months in one or two places like Cuenca as a resident, which is to say, not a vacation, tourist lifestyle, just living my life in a different city.

Cuenca is in a valley high in the Andes, elevation is about 8400 feet. It takes a few days to adjust to that altitude for a low-lander, and during that period of time you can have some symptoms of altitude sickness, or merely find that you have stamina issues. Two years ago,  it took me four days before I had a normal amount of energy, although other factors (arthritis in my knees) had a role in how well I got around on foot.

When I first got here two weeks ago, I thought I was going to acclimate quicker. I arrived with no real problems, but soon some familiar symptoms cropped up. Early in the morning (like 3am early) on my fifth day, I had a fever. I suspected I'd come down with Covid.

I had reached out to Fenigno a few times since finding out A Pedir de Boca had closed, with no response. That morning, he greeteed me warmly, saying he, himself, had just returned after visiting relatives out of the country.

I told him I was sick. He immediately came over to my studio with food, and at my request, a gallon of water.

He brought me food he had cooked every day after that. Three days later he walked me, in fits and starts, to get a PCR test that confirmed my intuitive diagnosis. He has brought me food every day, without fail, as I recovered in quarantine. As a friend said, only I could go overseas, get Covid, and have my quarantine catered by my favorite restauranteur.

I haven't clue one how this worked out for me, what I did to deserve such a wonderful gift. I hope I can repay the kindness I've been shown, and have every intention of paying it forward at any/every opportunity
.

I am not taking anything for granted. I am just grateful.

Food Comment
I've been eating wonderful food out of boxes, and drinking fresh juices provided by my pal Fenigno. No pics, 


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Thursday, January 13, 2022

#2779, Thursday, January 13, '22: Well, that didn't take long

Reverend Ken's Travel Blog
Post 2779
- 12 years and 13 days since I started this blog -
Winter Travel Journal

(written Jan 13, 2022)
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 11 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.
The last time I wrote, I mentioned my altitude adjustment problems, and predicted they'd take four or five days to wear off. They didn't. Instead, they got worse.

Turns out, somewhere along the line, possibly at an airport or on a plane, I caught Covid.

For the last four days, I've been quarantining, made possible by my Cuencano friend Fenigno, chef/owner of my favorite restaurant, A Pedir de Boca, from my last visit. He has brought me food every day. He closed the restaurant permanently when, after Cuenca emerged from lock-down, the regulations to reopen were too impractical to continue it. I miss it very much. But he is a true friend.

Today, when he came with his latest delivery, with lots of fruit, he took me to take my test. We walked to St. Inez Hospital, which has a pharmacy and a lab. I had to stop and rest a couple of times along the way, my pulse (I wear a FitBit) was racing. He took a couple of pics along the way, and we walked through the beautiful University of Cuenca campus to get to the adjacent hospital.

But man, by the time we got there, I was played out . Exhausted, weak, shaky. It was around 1:30 in the afternoon. We had to wait 15 minutes for the test. We took a cab back. 

I got my results back in 8 hours.

I will be quarantining for a week, having done three days already.

So, I'll see you on the other side of that.
Resting by the Tomebamba. Lack of stamina is my main symptom. I stopped coughing a couple of days ago,
This 3-dimensional mural is called 'The Tree of Life. It is on the Library building of the University of Cuenca. 

Another pic of me in front of (you could say spoiling) the Tree of Life. My friend Fenigno, who took all these pictures, attended this University and is getting a little artsy here. 


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Monday, January 10, 2022

#2778, Monday, January 10, '22: A lot of catch-up


Reverend Ken's Travel Blog
Post 2778
- 12 years and 10 days since I started this blog -
Disembarking from Flight 1255, Fort Lauderdale to Guayaquil, Ecuador, the entire passenger manifest has to wait like cargo ships in the Port of LA, while previously-arrived passengers from other flights are processed. One flight at a time. The wait is about an hour, but the reward is a quick-and-easy 90-day tourist visa, after a little more than three minutes of Q&A.
Winter Travel Journal

(written Jan 8-10, 2022)
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 11 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 must apologize for being so out-of-touch, and not writing for the last five weeks. No excuses, but an explanation: Until four days ago, I was visiting people, and spending all my time with them. Not that I didn't have time to write (I make time), but two aspects deterred me. One, almost anything I wrote about would have had to include the people I was visiting, and I restrict myself to telling my own story, and only my own, here. It's respect for privacy and the intimacy of these relationships.

And, a lot of what I did didn't inspire me to write. If anything seemed noteworthy during this period, you found out from an Instagram/Facebook post.

Admittedly, this is a change in policy. When I last traveled, two winters ago, I wrote something every other day, more or less. In California, a bit less. I never write these in Florida. 

That being said, I'm going to look back at some of the highlights of California, the trip to Cuenca, Ecuador, and my first days here. 
I flew down to Daytona Beach December 1. I spent my time there exclusively at my BFFs Marco and Sophie - these are the people who sheltered me for eleven weeks when I came back from Ecuador in February, 2020. I was supposed to leave them in March, and they let me stay until May. That may have saved my life.

Florida is surf-fishing, beach-walking, sunset watching, and great food. Marco is a pro cook, having run the kitchen at a show bar in Provincetown a while back. He is also the King of the Beach, and catches more than anyone else there. He calls himself the Freak on the Beach. So it's a diet of fresh fish for dinner, and that can't be beat.
The fishing dock at Wilbur By the Sea. It overlooks the Halifax River (Wilbur is on a narrow peninsula south of Daytona Beach. On one side is the Atlantic, and the Halifax is on the other, three blocks away).
I was there for two weeks. It was a great time. Then, December 16, I drive down to Fort Lauderdale and fly out to LA. Nothing eventful happened, but... the plane's departure was an hour-and-a-half late. (Cue ominous music soundtrack).

Thankfully, the flight was smooth. Alex met me at the airport - a big favor, because LAX is a one-hour-plus drive in traffic from Alex's place in Sherman Oaks. Up until now, and for decades, I picked up my car at the airport, but when I was looking at car rentals, back in May, they had become prohibitively expensive. I found a deal, only it wasn't at the airport, so I saved a little and picked it up the next day.


I'm not going to go into any detail, but I got ripped off big-time, ultimately to the tune of about $900, by that rental agency, and ended up having to rent a car from a different company. If you ask, I'll tell you - but I'd rather try to forget it. Even writing about it now, I need to calm down.

The other thing about LA was that it was (cue the music from "The Lady Is A Tramp" - if you don't know the song, by Sinatra, you now have homework) cold and rainy. Alex said he had never seen such relentlessly bad weather. And I'm not talking sprinkles. Streets were flooded. And I had to buy a jacket, I wasn't ready for temperatures in the 40s.

But the trip was fantastic, because it's all about spending time with my son, and that is pure joy to me. We get along together so well. He has a lot of exciting stuff going on, not the least of which is a wonderful new girlfriend and a new job, that started the day I left. He knows me, what I like, and I know how to not turn his life upside down. We play nicely together.



Alex, Katie and I at Malibu Seafood, a great place to watch the sunset, and get really good seafood - my favorite fish tacos anywhere. This is the only place I've been to on every single trip to LA.

Alex and Katie, sunset at Malibu

Sunset at Malibu.

At LACMA. They had these pretty little photo setups, and I had to get one with Alex (Katie wasn't there this time).

Alex and Katie at LACMA.

Sunset at LACMA.
We did a lot together.  And, because he knows what I like, a lot of it was planned around food. He loves turning me on to his favorite places. Things I do in LA that I don't do at home: Go to the movies! In LA, some theaters show movies with subtitles! This is great for me! My biggest problem with going to movies these days is due to my hearing disability: My hearing aids do a good job, and are great coupled with my iPhone, but the don't do anything for my tinnitus. We saw the new Spider-man movie, and I think it may be the best super-hero movie I've ever seen. We also saw the new Matrix movie on its opening day. I'd suggest you give that one a pass. Alex and I both thought it was a stain on the franchise's legacy. 

In all my trips to LA, this was the first one I didn't get to connect with any of my East Coast transplant friends - two are gone, two were sick. So it goes.

Somewhat in compensation, one of my childhood friends and his wife, who now live in Albuquerque, NM, visited LA for the first time for a long weekend while I was here. We had a great day at LACMA (Los Angeles Country Museum of Art), a slightly disappointing outing at a Oaxacan restaurant (the mole was too sweet), and a great breakfast on their last day. But, as with Alex, it's all about the company, and that made it all good.

I think I'm not going to talk (much) about leaving LA for Ecuador. It was a mess. It became ridiculously expensive, as I ended up buying a last-minute ticket on JetBlue when American canceled my flight and couldn't get me to my Fort Lauderdale to Guayaquil flight on time.

We'll pick it up in Guayaquil, where I arrived at 11:30pm (EST). I had a hotel room near the airport, the room was perfect, but, tired and jet-lagged as I was, I tossed and turned all night, getting little sleep. For the second night in a row.

Next morning I got a van for the four-hour-plus drive to Cuenca (it used to be three, but I had heard the road was closed due to mud and rock slides).

I was excited about the van ride for a couple of reasons. First, I have done exactly zero exploring of Ecuador outside of Cuenca, which is 8400' up in the Andes, which is in a valley surrounded on all sides by Andean peaks. I was looking forward to the scenery.

Second, quite a few of the Americans I met suggested that driving from the coast into the Andes would help acclimate me to the altitude, which is typically a four- or five-day process.

I sadly report that I was disappointed on both counts. Going up the mountains, we encountered nothing but thick fog. It was, in fact, quite terrifying. I was sitting in the front seat of the van, hoping to get some views and photo opportunities, and there were times I could not see the road. I was comforted by the fact that the driver had driven this route probably thousands of times, and in fact, he was flawless. It turns out, they had cleared the old route, and once we started to descend into the Azuay valley (Cuenca), it turned beautiful, but all the scenery turned out to be on the driver's side. No photos.

So, the trip took about three-and-a-half hours, and I was in Cuenca 'way too early to check in, but the kind host, who was still readying the studio apartment where I'll be living for the next sixty days allowed me to drop off my bags, and I went for a walk-about on a beautiful warm day. That's when I found out I wasn't acclimated to the altitude by the drive.

The first thing that hit me was the typical altitude-caused lack of stamina. I walked two blocks, to Parque Calderón (aka Central Park), and was desperate to sit down on one of the benches (admittedly, my goal in the first place - there's no better spot for people-watching in Cuenca, and it is beautiful). 

I took the mandatory "I'm here!" selfie. After about a half-hour of indolence, I got restless, and walked on, aimlessly, That's when symptom two of altitude maladaption set in. For the first time in about six months, I had knee pain, well, the knees were the worst of it, but I could feel all my joints.

Oh, well, this is the way it was last time. I know in four days or so I'll be fine. I got back to my AirBnB, where I was right on time to get into my studio apartment. 

My little studio in Cuenca Center.
And that was all she wrote for day one. However, I sadly report that I got no sleep - according to my Fitbit, just 3/4 of an hour. This is also a symptom of altitude sickness. But, jeez, I'm working on short sleep of the last couple of days as it is.

Next day, I made contact with my friend Marty, a guitarist from San Francisco, who was the very first person I met in Cuenca. I arranged to go to his apartment, only two blocks from my studio, for a little conversation and, since I'd brought along my Steinberger XL2-TT bass, some jamming.

The dude lives six flights up, which is damn near tragic, until you see his view (he has a nice, big balcony with an amazing view of the 'New Cathedral', the three-domed symbol of Cuenca.

Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception (aka, the New Cathedral).
I grabbed this pic, and, after some interesting conversation we got down to jamming. Then he announced it was time to see the amazing light show that happened at sunset. He wasn't kidding.



That was pretty much it for day two in Cuenca, although I did reconnect with one of my favorite restaurants that night.

But I had another night with nearly no sleep, and I just took the next day off. I committed to either finding some pot (as a sleep-aid, of course) or getting some sleeping pills rather than spend another sleepless night. Last time I was here, I was able to cop my second day in, but that good gentleman has disappeared, no working phone or Facebook account.

That next day, feeling a bit better, although starting off tired, I set off to get some weed. It took about fifteen minutes. I couldn't be more grateful.

Food Comment

Salmon scramble with home fries and artisinal multigrain bread. My first breakfast in Cuenca. 
Encocado, an Ecuadorian seafood dish of sea bass and vegetables in a coconut cream sauce, here with the addition of shrimp, thanks to the manager's suggestion that I could have it that way, no extra charge. Sofy Glocal, one of my favorites from the last visit, now in a much nicer location, is just the shizz.
I think this is actually a shrimp encocado, but it was just called sautéed shrimp with mushrooms. Anyway, real good. From Café Azul, in San Sebastion Park.

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