#2420: Special Valentine's Day in Cuenca Supplement

Post 2420

- 9 years and 46 days since I started this blog -

  

Journal
(written about Feb 13-Feb 15, 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.

This is a special supplemental, earlier-than-anticipated posting.

The day after I posted the previous blog, I had the am-I-getting-old realization that I had left out an important point, for no good reason, and I wanted to make that point.

I also had a couple of experiences since that I wanted to say something about and/or show you pictures of.

So, to the point: I haven't yet 'cracked' the music scene in Cuenca, although I've made about as much progress I had at at this point of my first trip to Chiang Mai, and that turned out well.

But I have played. And I've met musicians - so far, only a few. But the quality of the music that I've heard has been, for the most part, very good. Not in every case, but a good majority of the time, the musicians have been good. All the ones I've jammed with have been. 

And I've been to some nice clubs, nice places to play. At the Wednesday night jam, which I went to last Wednesday for the second time, I saw some real talent, talent that would have been welcome at any open mic I've played at, anywhere.

And, like in Chiang Mai, it isn't only expats - although for me, expats are the gatekeepers: That's how I'm going to get into the scene, because, to be honest, I can't guarantee that I'll ever be fluent in Spanish, although I regard being able to speak Spanish as a necessity.

A lot of English is spoken here in Cuenca, but a lot of the Cuencanos I see speak Spanish, and many also speak an indigenous language, but not English. But some of the long-term expat musicians are friends with some of the Ecuadorian musicians, and that's how you get to meet them.

I have played also at a one-off open mic that, if it can solve its sound problems may become weekly, but that may not happen this visit. Even with its problems, there were some very interesting players, and I got to do a bit on bass, as well as some of my singing-gutarist stuff.

My impression of the music scene here is already favorable, if only based on the street music I've encountered. There seem to also be a lot of Ecuadorian singing guitarists, who make the rounds of the restaurants both at lunch and dinner.

And there are buskers, although nothing I've heard (outside of thinking I was listening to a nice folk song only to realize it was a poor version of a pop song) has stopped me in my tracks like what happens in New Orleans, which, to me, is the best place in the world for street music. But the fact that it's here is encouraging.


I went to my first show at the Jazz Society Café, and it was a good one. It featured the 'International Jazz Band' which I think is actually the name the piano-playing leader Jim Gala gives to any group where he expands his trio. Jim is excellent on the keys, and his rhythm section was great. The added flute and singer were, in my opinion, not quite in that league, although there was nothing wrong with either of them.

The Jazz Society Café is upstairs from an Italian restaurant, and that's where the food comes from, and it was pretty good. I had a salad with tuna and eggplant parmesan, both of which were well done.

At the break, I spoke with Jim, who is from Rochester, NY. He's been in Cuenca for seven years, and is yet another enthusiast of the city. He actually used the word, 'perfect'.

So far, the music scene here is on the positive side of neutral for me, and I'm just starting. Something else I like about Cuenca.

Segue.

Valentine's Day was yesterday, and in the afternoon and early evening, it seemed like almost everybody - both women and men - were walking around town with flowers in their hands.

I had another good lunch at A Pedir de Boca, and the chef came out and gave me a guide to a walking tour of Cuenca' s ceramics, which he said were the best in the world. He also offered free Spanish lessons next week. He also introduced the waiter as his girlfriend, but my Spanish isn't good. Maybe his lessons will help.

As I left, walking up the block towards my hotel, I ran into Sofía, the owner of Sofy Glocal Cuisine, who I had met when I ate there a few days ago. She remembered me and gave me a big 'Hello'. I told her I had planned to eat there that night. She said it would be good for Valentine's Day. I told her I had no Valentine, so it would have to be her. She laughed and squeezed my arm, and we went on our ways, in opposite directions.

The restaurant was packed, but I didn't have to wait long. While I was waiting, Sofía brought me a glass of champagne with a black orchid in it, and wished me a "Happy San Valentin".

While I ate, I was serenaded by a series of Ecuadorian singing guitarists. The food was good. The night was lovely. Dinner over, I went to Common Grounds, one of the two best known gringo bars in Cuenca.

They do Karaoke on Friday nights. In general, I don't like karaoke, but there have been specific ones that I've enjoyed. Common Grounds' one was a lot of fun last week, when I went there for the first time. Why? Because while not everybody who sang had a great voice - some really did - the song selection was great. Less same-songs-all-the-time stuff, and more deep tracks.

And, as has been the case everywhere I've been here so far, it's a very friendly place.

Tonight there's a big crowd, and I only do two songs ('Wicked Games' and 'Is She Really Going Out With HIm').

Saturday is low-key. I have an early breakfast at the Sunshine Café, the first place I ate in Cuenca, rejoining Richard, who was so immediately helpful that first day, and Vince, who I bonded with then over the group Poco, who he worked with in their early days. I met two couples, both of whom have just moved to Cuenca. One couple is house-hunting, the other has a place and is waiting for a container that has all the stuff they're bringing. 

Stories are told, breakfast is given a proper appreciation, and the time goes by quickly. Suddenly it's after noon, we say our goodbyes to each other, other diners, and the staff (it's how you do in Cuenca).

I make the ten-minute walk to sit on a park bench at Parque Calderón. I'm there just to people-watch, think my random thoughts, and appreciate the day and the place. Before I know it, I've been there a couple of hours.

It's so nice I decide to go back after dinner. 

But for now, I think it is time to actually go inside and check out the symbol of Cuenca, the three-blue-domed 'New Cathedral', which is actually an old cathedral, Catedral de la Inmaculada Concepción, that took two hundred years of on-again, off-again construction to complete. Parts of it go back to the late 18th Century, but it was finally completed near the end of the 20th! 

The scale of the New Cathedral is breathtaking. Having been in some 'destination' churches and Cathedrals in Europe, and some enormous and gorgeous Buddhist temples in Thailand, as well as some famous big ones in the US, I can say this is easily the biggest house of worship I've ever been in.

It is not just impressive in size - it is quite beautiful within. There are actually six side-altars (three on each side) which are large enough on their own to be the focus of any church. The main altar is comparatively and suitably magnificent. There are pics in the album linked below. Or, if you can't wait, here they are in their own album.

Sunset is around 6:30pm every day (and I mean every day of the year - we're only 200 miles south of the equator, total daylight variation throughout the year is less than plus or minus eight minutes). 

It is 9:30, well after dark, when I go to buy some really good ice cream, two scoops (coffee and coconut), at the old-fashioned ice cream parlor across the street from the park.

I take my cup of joy into the park to enjoy it, and reflect that this is something I could do here year-round; but it dawns on me that there is something special about me being here, in the center of town, on a mild night, sitting in a park eating ice cream. Right here, right now. It feels good, safe, easy. Carefree, I am filled with gratitude for this moment.

Here's the photo album that accompanies this blog. To view it, click here.

Food Comment

At Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Shrimp Encava, with coconut vegetable sauce and quinoa.

Valentine's Day dessert at Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Red velvet cake with raspberry glacé.

From the wonderful Sunrise Café, where they cater to gringos, and everybody speaks English, a Boulder Omelet (lots of veggies and cheddar and asiago cheese) with vegetable hash and a biscuit. This was really, really good.

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Thank you!

#2419: Things I like about Cuenca so far

Post 2419

- 9 years and 43 days since I started this blog -

  

Playing at an open mic. I don't know why I even needed to caption this. Wherever I go, wherever I am, this is what I do.

Journal
(written about Feb 8-12, 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.

Can I get a little non-linear? Thank you. My thoughts are a little scrambled, and I thought I'd talk about more impressions than events.

Spoiler: I'm enjoying my time in Cuenca. I could see me moving, living here. When I talk to expats I meet, I'm impressed with their enthusiasm, whether they've been here for months or years.

It's easy here. That's a word a lot of the people I've spoken to who've made the move say. For one thing, there are a lot of those people here, and while it's not a requirement to have a large expat community in the places I'm considering living in, it can sure make the move easier when you have multiple people who've pioneered the way.

Cuenca has spent the last decade or so on everybody's top ten lists of retirement destinations, including some years in the number one slot. I'm not sure whether it's a chicken-and-egg thing, whether the number of people who moved here created that, or so many people moved here because of that, but here we are: Lots of expats.

And they come in all flavors - political, lifestyle choice, race, beliefs. One difference between residents here and in Chiang Mai and Lisbon: A much higher percentage - I'd guess somewhere around ninety percent - are North Americans. Gringos are a minority in Chiang Mai, and Lisbon? I was there for a week before I ran into my first American in Lisbon.

Everywhere I travel, I get a warm welcome. Not because I'm such a great guy, but as the new guy in town, I bring something novel to the mix. Everybody likes to tell their story, and the new guy hears it for the first time. Musicians look forward to testing you (even when warmly welcomed, I'm under no illusions: My performance is being critiqued) to see if you'd be a net add to the scene. 

And it's the same for me, in reverse. I'm always looking for the good in things, but I'm here to test Cuenca as a place to live, and I try to stay open to the good and bad.

So far, it's good, pretty much all the way.

But I'm easy to please.

I continue to be impressed with the local culture, very much present throughout the town, despite the tourist/gringo-oriented businesses and whatever gentrification has happened along the edges. 

The Cuencanos I've encountered while walking around, in the streets, shops and restaurants, seem very warm, friendly and - I can't believe I'm writing this without sarcasm - wholesome. It's like being in Mayberry, but more touchy-feely and, of course, much more dense and diverse (another big positive for me).

The surprise has been to the upside. I'm talking about the food I've been eating. Cuenca will never be the quality/variety food scene that Chiang Mai, LA, NYC or New Orleans are. It is not a foodie destination.

But the food I've had here has been really good. Noteworthy good. And, while Chiang Mai is the best bargain in restaurant eating I've ever experienced (especially given the quality), for the kind of eating I do, Cuenca isn't a lot more expensive - and is much cheaper than anywhere in North America.

I've had mostly excellent meals, including some standouts (curiously enough, many have been fish dishes in this 3-1/2-mile high mountain valley, four hours from the Pacific Ocean).

Another surprise has been the weather. It has been better than I expected, but that could be just another example of how lucky I am. But even on the few bad-weather days, the weather has been relentlessly pleasant.

It has rained here a few times in the last dozen days since I got here, but I have never been caught out in it. And, right after, walking through the damp streets, with the air temporarily cleans ed of any of the normal downtown pollution, is... wait for it... very pleasant!

The weather in the daytime, which is usually cloudy with always-present patches of blue, changes on a dime. It varies from the mid-sixties to low-seventies. But it can go from sunny to raining in an instant. I saw this through a window. I've also experienced a near-instantaneous dozen-degree temperature rise when the sun comes out.

And it's all very pleasant.

Here's a thing I knew about that was better experienced first-hand: The absence of flying insects. At this altitude, the air is too thin for the likes of mosquitoes, flies, and other bugs. They don't have a week to acclimate.

One thing I knew about that has been 100% borne out by frank conversations I've had with expats here, is that the cost of living is low. Low enough for me to live  a comparatively luxurious lifestyle here, and have enough money left over to travel back to the US to visit you all. 

Is it the lowest cost of living around? No, SouthEast Asia has a lock on that, but I would be able to live here exactly as I like, based on only my Social Security check. Easy.

One last thing to mention, that I'm not sure I have before: The water. Cuenca has the best water in South America. Potable tap water. Everybody drinks it. It isn't a big thing, but it's a thing.

Here's everything that I've been doing since my previous blog post: Eating, sleeping, walking, talking with people and making a little music. Having fun.That's life!


This blog's photos can be found in an album here.
 
I have so much to be grateful for.

Food Comment

From Café Nuncatella, vegetable hash and eggs with fresh fruit cup.

From Capitan, salmon with spinach (Florentine).

From A Pedir de Boca: Thai noodles with chicken. This colorful dish did manage to capture some Thai magic, but was a chef's take on the cuisine, with some adds and subracts, the least important of which was using ramen noodles. This dish was as good as it was colorful. One of my favorites.

From Sofy Glocal Cuisine: Hummus and home-made pita on a slab of shale.

 Please leave a comment when you visit my blog.
Thank you!

#2418: More impressions of Cuenca

Post 2418

- 9 years and 38 days since I started this blog -

  

At El Mercado, one of Cuenca's best restaurants. Behind me is Cuenca south of El Centro (downtown). In front of me is sopa de mariscos, incorrectly described on the menu as 'arroz Criollo' which made me think it was some kind of etouffee. No matter, it was excellent. Langoustine, prawns, shrimp, pike, clams, mussels, in a delicious broth with vegetables and rice. While this was an expensive dish by Ecuadorean standards, it was cheap compared to what a dish similarly well-prepared in a beautiful restaurant with excellent service would be anywhere in the US.

Journal
(written about Feb 4-Feb 7, 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 still find myself responding positively to the touchy-feely, close personal space manner of Cuencanos (people of Cuenca). I love seeing people walking down the street holding hands, or with arms around each other, carrying infants and toddlers (instead of strollers). In my mind, it has become quite symbolic of the vibe in Cuenca. Very warm. Only one cab driver, frustrated by our lack of communication as to my desired destination, so far, has been anything less than very friendly in our interactions - including all the other taxi drivers I've dealt with.

My first week in Cuenca has been mostly pleasant. What wasn't? Getting used to the altitude. I've learned a few things, since I've been here, but I had a few days where altitude sickness - in my case, very mild - kept me from getting around as much as I would have liked. mostly a feeling of fatigue and heaviness the first days. On my third day here, when I thought I was over it, I had a beer. Next day, it was back in a new form - a very mild case of vertigo. Not enough to keep me from walking around a little bit, or from going out to my first jam session here, just enough to remind me that I didn't really know what was good for me. Yet.

I ate only one meal a day for my first four whole days in Cuenca. Not because I wasn't feeling well, but because the meals I ate were filling, and when it came time to eat again, I simply wasn't hungry. This might also be due to a big decrease in the amount of raw and cooked green vegetables in many meals. Veggies other than corn and potatoes, aren't really featured in the places I've been eating, although the good quality of the food I've had has masked a big increase in the starch content of my diet.

I am also having difficulty getting the rhythm of this town. By decades-long habit, I stay up late. I did this even when I was still working my nine-to-five. Probably greatly to my detriment in some areas of my life, but that's a story for another day. With alcohol involved

This is the opposite, it seems, from the typical resident, including expats. Theirs is a typical schedule around the workweek. Most, not all, places for recreation,  as in, restaurants and bars, are done at ten. I'm already collecting data on the exceptions, and have been to a few places that went to midnight, or, informally, later. 

So, Cuenca is a morning-oriented town, and I am quite the opposite of a morning-oriented person. Also, many businesses, especially restaurants, close at 3pm. Siesta, I guess, although nobody and nowhere have I read anything about a siesta tradition here. Some places reopen at five or six, but for some, that's the end of the day.

Me, on the other hand, three is a moderately early starting point for my day. 

But I digress. Not having the rhythm of this place - actually, not having the rhythm in any situation - is a bit frustrating. I hate being out of time, always. 

In fact, I've made good use of my time in my first week. To whit: 

I went to my first open mic. It was at a friendly restaurant, Kamaq Gastro Arte y Cultura, that had an actual stage - not elevated much, but big enough. When I walked in (late, because cab-hailing here is as random as it is seemingly everywhere), there was a guitar player and a cajon player (who, it turned out, also plays guitar, keys and sings - and runs this jam) on-stage. The room had a nice crowd.

Not knowing the format, I walked far to the side of the stage to put down my bass as inconspicuously as I could, with the rest of the instruments/cases, but was immediately beckoned to join in.

I got a good response from the other players and the audience, and was asked to stay up for another set. Here's a video taken by the lead singer's girlfriend or wife (I never ask): Cover: People Get Ready.

I introduced myself to all the players, and now I know some residents and also some part-timers. More importantly, I got to hear something a little different than my usual fare, including one excellent guitarist who played a lot of different songs from all over South America.

I was very happy with the night.

The next day I woke up feeling great! First day that's happened since arriving in Ecuador.

I walked a lot - even my arthritis wasn't bothering me at all. Deliberately, I found myself at those steps leading down to the river (pic in the last post #2417). I walked those stairs down and, after walking around a bit, back up to no ill effect - neither fatigue nor knee pain. 

After more wandering around and being too late for lunch (by then, it was 3pm), at two places I went to, I stopped for some coffee.

The place, which I chose based on it's nearness and clean looks, was the El Mercado coffee shop, at the front of a restaurant I didn't know was there. 

Why wasn't I aware of the restaurant? It's the Spanish colonial architecture. The front of most houses typically opens out into a courtyard, around which is the main living area. All the places I've been inside have been, tardis-like, bigger on the inside than what was hinted at out front.

At this coffee shop, I met the barista, Byron, and he turned out to be such a consummate, knowledgable (and English-speaking) pro, I put him through his paces, having him make an Aeropress, French press, and espresso. Every step of the way, he explained what beans he was using and why.

When I was at the French press portion, A gringa came and sat at the next table. I ended up having a 3-hour conversation with Susan, a very active retirement-age woman who is not at all retired, living and teaching in Cuenca. It was fun, and very, very informative. 

Long conversations, when you find yourself one-on-one in a comfortable place for it, are the norm when I travel. 

For one thing, being (always, pretty much) the new kid in town, I'm someone who hasn't heard their stories. For another, I'm someone they can help without cost or inconvenience, not knowing the place the way they do. As for me, they haven't heard my stories either, and I have lots and lots of stories.

You find out what you have in common, and what you don't. If you keep an open mind, it's a learning experience that has a lot of emotional and sometimes spiritual depth.

It makes this kind of conversation very pleasant, fun, recreational. I love it. 

When Susan had to leave for her dinner plans, Byron suggested I would enjoy the restaurant (that I didn't know I was even in part of). Susan affirmed that it was a very good place. It was 6:30, all I'd had to eat was a Byron-supplied cinnamon bun so far that day - I was hungry. So I said, fine, I'll do that.

Byron had to point out the way to the restaurant at the back of the building.

Big surprise. The restaurant was beautiful, three flights up from the street at the rear of the building it was in, with floor-to-high-ceiling windows showcasing the view of the southern half of the city.

The view, just at dusk, from the El Mercado.

I ordered the Arroz Criolla, which I thought would be a seafood gumbo (criolla), but which turned out to be an outrageously good sopa de mariscos (seafood soup). The waiter took the photo at the top of the post after bringing it to me. You can read more details about the dish there. 

I was so hungry, I had eaten half the dish when I realized I hadn't gotten a picture of it, which is a shame, because it was as good-looking a presentation as it was great eating. That night, I went to see some music, but the tiny venue was full. 

So, I aimlessly wandered around for a bit. I ended up at the Inca, a famous gringo hangout - right next to the base of those same stairs (second time that day). This time, when I went down the six or eight flights, I was reminded that, irrespective of altitude sickness, which I wasn't feeling at all, my knees are arthritic, and I had some pain.

The bar was empty. Why? No idea. I had an excellent michelada, watched some old eighties rom-com that had some kind of cross-dressing motif going on, in Spanish, on the big screen above the bar, and decided to call it a night.

When I got back to the base of the steps, there were about a dozen-and-a-half teenagers, and they were preparing to start a wheel-barrow race (one person holding the other's ankles waist-high, the other walking on their hands) up the stairs.

I was more than impressed. First of all, they were obviously doing this for fun (as opposed to, I don't know, the anti-social behavior other 'gangs' of kids indulge in while they're immersed in their phones, or other media distractions), and secondly, how well-organized they were - everybody seemed to know what part they were playing. Lastly, only a couple of girls in the group had phones out, and it was obvious they just wanted to document the event.

The race started, and I followed, to one side, out of the way. Only one of the half-dozen teams collapsed on the first flight. One made it up three. The other four collapsed about two-thirds of the way to the top. Everybody was laughing. Everybody seemed happy. 

Seeing that made me happy.

Here are some pics of my meanderings, and more. Cuenca 2/4-7/2020 album.

Larry, the husband of a woman from Syracuse, Laura, who I met earlier in the week, had reached out to me and on Thursday we were going to meet and take a walking tour of Cuenca.

But, after yesterday's excursion, the dozens of flights of stairs I had walked up and down, and all the mileage I put on (no cabs!), my knees were... grumpy. I wasn't going to be doing a lot of walking this day.

We went to a coffee shop off Parque Calderón, very near. We talked for a good long spell, over cappucinos (him) and espressos and eggs (me, very good!), and then we walked to some other places nearby, as Larry wove his story in with the sights we passed.

We ended up at one of the smaller mercados near his and Laura's home. Again, I was impressed at how unimpressive street-facing buildings lead to large and pretty interior living spaces.

The conversation continued for the rest of the afternoon. As sometimes happens, I left feeling very much like I'd discovered a good friend who was meant to be my friend, waiting for me to encounter him. That's something that has happened, in my travels, more frequently than I would have guessed. But it is always a delight.

Laura had invited me to Common Grounds for karaoke night. I'll be honest (as I was with her), that isn't something I typically enjoy. I also resent karaoke because it is used as a replacement for live music. Laura suggested that it would be a good time and place to meet other musicians, who were fairly regular attendees.

All right. I had no better ideas.

I took a cab over, and found Laura, Larry, and Bert and Jerre (and a few others) from Wednesday's open mic at Kamaq.

I asked the open mic host if he had the JJ Cale version of 'After Midnight' in his machine, and he responded yes.

As I made my way back to the bar, I reached for my phone, just to check the time.

It wasn't in my pocket.

I looked around where I'd been sitting at the bar, went back to the table where I'd filled out my song request. Not there. Several of the other patrons formed a search crew (thank you!) but came up empty. I realized it must have come out of my pocket in the cab.

Larry called me. The cab driver picked up. Larry (who speaks good Spanish) told him (again) where we were, and promised him a reward if he returned it.

Other folks in the bar told me how common it was for people to lose their phones or have them stolen. I didn't need to hear that, and went out to the street to wait for the taxi's return. Larry hung out with me. Fifteen minutes later, the cabbie rolled up, handed me my phone. I thanked him as best I could (and passed him what I hope was a generous reward), Larry thanked him more profusely, in his better Spanish.

I remain the luckiest person I know. Tragedy (and I do meant tragedy) averted. Also, everybody in the bar was talking about me like I had just done something amazing, when I had just done something careless and stupid, and totally gotten away with it. All right, maybe that's amazing.


How could I not be grateful for my life and my luck? Believe me, I take nothing for granted. I live in a world of gratitude, because I live in a world with plenty of people and experiences to be grateful for.

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Thank you!

#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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