All right, this one goes out to all of you who just don´t think you can handle South America. What would it be like, you wonder, to be in a place where no-one speaks English? Where you´re the only white face for blocks, and you stick out as a tourist? What will you do without oreos and pancakes, without 80s music and crappy beer? (I admit, probably no one of that mindset is reading my blog--please allow the rhetorical flourish).
Well, my friends, put your fears at ease. I bring you...Gringolandia.
La Mariscal is a district of Quito´s New Town which is essentially a cross between Spring Break and Burger King. It´s almost entirely geared to tourism (including the well-loved Happy Gringo Travel Agency), and is usually crammed wall to wall with Caucasian 20-somethings out for a good time. Every other building is a hostel: the rest divide themselves more or less equally between hip restaurants, lavanderías, night clubs, and souvenir shops.
I imagine it´s a reassuring way for travellers to dip their toes into the Ecuadorian waters before plunging in. Personally, I use it as a pit stop--a place to catch my breath, use a decent internet connection, wash everything, and move on. Because there are so damn many hostels, quality´s high for the better ones, and I have to admit that a pancake or two is never a bad idea. I´m staying the night at Posada de Maple (a cute converted semi-Victorian hostel on a city block which is literally NOTHING but cute converted semi-Victorian hostels), and then heading off to Mindo. I was a bit anxious about the trip from Ambato to Quito, as the Powers that Be have re-organized mass transit, building two bus terminals way out of town to replace the one terminal in the center of town that I´m more or less familiar with. Needn´t have worried, though--as with so many things, the grand opening has been delayed a week after dry-runs showed that they weren´t quite ready (evidently, the new terminal needs both electricity AND light to function at its best). As a result, everything is back to normal until further notice (and probable delay). ¡Víva la hora Ecuatoriana!
Even if I had needed to cope with a shiny new terminal, I most likely would have been just fine. It was sad to have to say good bye to Gladys, who has been an absolute marvel to work with, but she sent me off under the wing of her equally formidable sister. Who accompanied me to the exact finest seat of the exact safest bus to Quito, sternly admonished the bus crew to ¨not mess around¨with my suitcase, pointed out that the exact finest seat was ideal for watching the cargo hold below at every stop to make absolutely certain that the suitcase didn´t get messed with, and sent me off with the warning that I was, under no circumstances, to accept ¨ni un solo caramelo¨(even a piece of candy) from strangers. Excellent advice, gratefully taken.
And with that, I think it´s time for pancakes. Hope everyone in the states is doing well! I´d love to hear from you all, either through email or by comments on this blog--I´m surrounded by gringos right now, but I just don´t know any of them!
Well, my friends, put your fears at ease. I bring you...Gringolandia.
La Mariscal is a district of Quito´s New Town which is essentially a cross between Spring Break and Burger King. It´s almost entirely geared to tourism (including the well-loved Happy Gringo Travel Agency), and is usually crammed wall to wall with Caucasian 20-somethings out for a good time. Every other building is a hostel: the rest divide themselves more or less equally between hip restaurants, lavanderías, night clubs, and souvenir shops.
I imagine it´s a reassuring way for travellers to dip their toes into the Ecuadorian waters before plunging in. Personally, I use it as a pit stop--a place to catch my breath, use a decent internet connection, wash everything, and move on. Because there are so damn many hostels, quality´s high for the better ones, and I have to admit that a pancake or two is never a bad idea. I´m staying the night at Posada de Maple (a cute converted semi-Victorian hostel on a city block which is literally NOTHING but cute converted semi-Victorian hostels), and then heading off to Mindo. I was a bit anxious about the trip from Ambato to Quito, as the Powers that Be have re-organized mass transit, building two bus terminals way out of town to replace the one terminal in the center of town that I´m more or less familiar with. Needn´t have worried, though--as with so many things, the grand opening has been delayed a week after dry-runs showed that they weren´t quite ready (evidently, the new terminal needs both electricity AND light to function at its best). As a result, everything is back to normal until further notice (and probable delay). ¡Víva la hora Ecuatoriana!
Even if I had needed to cope with a shiny new terminal, I most likely would have been just fine. It was sad to have to say good bye to Gladys, who has been an absolute marvel to work with, but she sent me off under the wing of her equally formidable sister. Who accompanied me to the exact finest seat of the exact safest bus to Quito, sternly admonished the bus crew to ¨not mess around¨with my suitcase, pointed out that the exact finest seat was ideal for watching the cargo hold below at every stop to make absolutely certain that the suitcase didn´t get messed with, and sent me off with the warning that I was, under no circumstances, to accept ¨ni un solo caramelo¨(even a piece of candy) from strangers. Excellent advice, gratefully taken.
And with that, I think it´s time for pancakes. Hope everyone in the states is doing well! I´d love to hear from you all, either through email or by comments on this blog--I´m surrounded by gringos right now, but I just don´t know any of them!
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