A selection from Karl’s diaries covering ECUADOR

Saturday, 3rd June 2000. Ecuador. 70 degrees 50 minutes west, 04 degrees 27 minutes south. ( Approx ).

We were up and on the move early, 07:30, to try and avoid being caught in this field. It's straight back onto our rapidly descending steep track which takes us all the way down to the valley floor. One hell of a job and it's a slow pace making sure we don't fall and injure ourselves. It's a hot cloudless sunny day and at the bottom we're straight into a fast running river, the track leading in one side and coming out the other. The rivers themselves are full of huge rocks and boulders some as big as cars, so trying to get horsey through was a real challenge, yet this was an obviously well used route. In fact on our way down this morning a horse passed us going up with two really young children in school uniforms on board. No adults, just stick your kids on the horse give it a slap and it's off across this crazy countryside, finding its way to school. The two little boys looked no more than six years old, sitting there like kids on a school bus. They stare at me with blank expressions as they pass, their horse scrambling up the hillside. Down in the bottom we climbed and dropped into more rivers before we eventually came across a bridge. However, you could not get to it by a track, you had to stumble along the river bank, going into the river in some places to avoid huge rocks.

Horsey then had to cross the river on its own as the bridge had collapsed on the far side and an obviously hasty bamboo repair restricted the bridge to one man alone. I sent the horse on his way and watched until he made it to the far bank, then crossed the bridge, but there was still no way I could get him up the bank so we are forced to stay in the river for 200 metres more until we can climb out. Our track then became a mud swamp and the going was really hard work. This was more like some kind of man made an obstacle course. We were in a real mess by now, plastered in mud and piss wet through. After an hour in the valley bottom I found a very thin narrow track that climbed steeply. As the horse tried to climb, the load slid off. To strip out and refit everything takes almost 15 minutes, a real pain in the arse job. Anyway, it's done, and we set off but after a few yards it comes off again. By now I'm getting tired, it hot, the flies are biting hard, progress is slow and the horse is resisting all the way. I'm having to pull hard all the time now and my hands are blistered from the rope. At this point we are way down in a very narrow valley / gully. It's a dark and forbidding place, as above us there is heavy tree cover which blocks out most of the light. You can hear nothing above the sound of rushing water as it pours in from all angles. High walls of mud, ferns, moss, vines and creepers seal us in. We try again, and the kit slides off for a third time. I start to lose my temper, it's time for a serious rethink, there must be a better solution. There is and it's simple, I need to run a rope around the front of the horse's chest which can be tied to the load to stop it moving back. This done, we start to climb again and lo and behold it seems to work. We start to follow a very narrow trail as it winds its way slowly up the contours of the left side of the valley. It's only just wide enough for the horse and as we gain height it's beginning to look quite dangerous, with a sheer drop on our right hand side. This goes on for some time before we eventually reached the junction with another valley running across our front. Before us we now have the River Caiuas, which marks the frontier between Peru and Ecuador.

Our narrow track at last meets up with the larger vehicle track as we round the hills to our left. I'm now scanning for a possible crossing point into Ecuador, but unfortunately find we are too high up at this point, with impenetrable dense forest falling away steeply below us. We follow the track west until midday where we find a small group of houses called Anchaca and take a break. It's very hot in the intense sun and I use this time to dry out my sleeping bag and other wet clothing while thinking of just how the hell I can cross before we reach the village of Cucuyas which has a crossing point. That of course means police and customs, which is what I'm trying to avoid. It may well be that at such a small outpost here in the middle of nowhere I could possibly talk a way across for myself and the horse, however I haven't come all the way out here just to get myself tied up in red tape now. We push on but by now the horse is getting very tired and starts to refuse to play 'Explorers' any more. After a brief fight on the track I resume pulling, good and hard, for the next three hours which just wipes me out.

Not far from Cucuyas I meet a group of young lads who follow me. We talk and they tell me of a place they know where I can cross. I get them to show me the way and we pick up what looks like an animal track that drops steeply. This then enters a narrow gully of running water, which we stumble down for some way and again is very hard going for the horse. Eventually we come out onto the banks of the river, and find a small group of people using a large lorry inner tube as a raft. They seemed to be transporting empty beer bottles across from Ecuador and after a chat they decide to help me by taking my load across on the inner tube while the horse myself do our own thing. One of the local lads take photos for me as we cross. It's almost chest deep in parts and very fast flowing, which gives the horse and I a hard time. The horse playing up doesn't help as we fight our way across into Ecuador. Mission accomplished!

As we reload on the other side it's now 16:30, so I need to get a move on. I give the lads what loose change I have in my pocket as it's little use to me now, and you don't forget to pay the ferryman. Not far upriver I find a good spot in a patch of dense bush. We push our way in and I clear a space for us. It looks well out of the way so we should be safe for the night as no one is going to venture into here without waking me. I pitched tent but still need to find water, so I sneak back to the river and grab a bag. There's stuff for the horse to eat but he'll need more. I go out on a sugar cane hunt, aiming to take as many as I can escape with. I end up crawling around on some commando-style raid, ripping my Helly Hanson top to bits on wire fences, not to mention myself. That damn horse takes some looking after. Tonight I find some giant ticks on me, about the size of the nail on your little finger. Once they get their jaws into your flesh they're a real pain to get out. You need to pull them very slowly and very gently until they gave in and let go.

It gets to 22:00 and I suddenly realise I can't hear the horse chewing away, which is kind of strange as normally you can hear him eating well into the night. So I decide to go out into the darkness and make sure he's not got his tether caught up in the bushes. I can't see or find anything in the blackness but then eventually manage to find the thick tree I'd tied him to. Feeling down its trunk I find the rope and follow it, allowing it to run through my hands. As I thought, it's trapped around other small trees so I untangle it and..... find a loose end. For the love of God!! I scrambled back to the tent, find my camera and unload the batteries to use in my torch. I then start combing the woods looking for the horse, and listening, waiting for it to move. It can't have gone far in this, it generally doesn't wander far as it's too busy eating. Yet I can't find anything. I start to get very worried and spent 20 minutes stumbling around the thick wood. I left a candle burning in my tent so that I could find it again and suddenly I hear rustling sound which I home in on. I find I am back at my tent and nearby is the horse. He'd been just yards away all the time. " Christ! Don't you ever do this to me again!"

Tuesday, 6th June 2000. 79 degrees 38 minutes west, 04 degrees 19 minutes south, ( approx ) .

Thing's set off very well this morning, the horse led and was responsive for the first two hours and then it began to nosedive again, and horsey got tired. I have noticed for some time that he seemed to have problems with the tracks, always stumbling and I've realised it because he's not shoed. The tracks are made up of rocks and stones and he's finding it hard going, but today things have taken a turn for the worse and he started to limp. This is very bad news and as far as I'm concerned it's the end. It's a further 120 kilometres to Loja and as things just seem to deteriorate on a daily basis I'm not going to keep pushing this poor animal any more. It's simply not going to cope with this pace of life. One day ahead of me is Cariamanga, a small town. My hands have been creeping towards the 'Horse jettison device' over the past few days now and I think this is the best place to pull it. If I take him beyond there and then he piles in I'm buggered. I can't even get him shoed in this town as I don't have the cash, and I don't think he'll last until Loja. More and more flashing red warning lights are lighting up my cockpit. This means I need to use my reserve plan 'C', which means moving the bulk of my kit by local transport to the next town in front of me, like I did in Chile to Antofagasta and Iquique. I'll take with me only what I need to live on in the bush in my bergen and crack on, but things are going to be a little tight, I've only S 30 (which I need to change,) and my kit is quite heavy. I have to find somewhere where I can make a base and from there workout how I can send my kit to Loja. Then comes the job of finding somewhere or someone to sell the horse to. Hopefully this should pay for the transport of my kit and leave some over to buy food.

Again progress seemed to slow down as now horsy was having more problems, although it's not all that bad at present. Every now and then he gets the bit irritable like most people would when taken on a forced march and starved. I find a spot in a small thicket just off the road by several yards. I hack a clearing for my tent and there's enough room for the horse to feed on the relatively plentiful grass. The horse also has to cope with my lifestyle. I seem to spend most of my time, if I'm not walking, living like a soldier trapped behind enemy lines. The horse is very tired, it just seems to stand motionless it's eyelids drooping and yawns a lot. It's looking thinner I'm sure, but at least he'll eat better than me tonight. I'm hungry, really hungry.

Tuesday, 27th June 2000. 16 degrees C. 79 degrees 10 minutes west, 03 degrees 34 minutes south.

A wet start and this looks like it's going to be the norm from now on. Up here in the clouds life goes on in a permanent soaking drizzle. An awful lot has changed since I first climbed into the hills on the border. It's just so much wetter here, the plants and trees have changed and the temperature continues to fall, (of course there's tons of grass now!). Still there are fewer bugs up here. The roads are nothing like those indicated on the map and there's no relation at all. In the real world the roads spend most of their time winding east / west and even seem to take a completely different route at times. I'm not making as much progress along the map as I thought I would because all this zig-zagging is eating up my distances. The road surfaces are so bad that sometimes it's plain uncomfortable to walk as you stumble on loose stones and twist your ankles in holes. This, and of course the constant climbing I now do, would have made life with the beast impossible.

By midday I make the small town of Saraguro and stop for a brew. I have to buy new batteries for my camera, more soup cubes for my pasta, plus some more pasta itself and consequently I'm left with s5000, (very roughly 12 p.) once again it appears I'm in the mire. I study the contents of my food bag and the distance I have to go as well as take onboard the workload I now have. I'm forced to realise that I don't have enough! I'm in the cheapest country and I'm still having to walk hungry because of my visa costing me so much. Bloody hell, I can't be doing with this any more. Again I'm going to have to start rationing my food and I'm already hungry. I should have left Loja with pockets stuffed with cash and planned to eat like a king. What I can buy now in fact is bananas, one costs s500. I buy a few banana's to add to my food over the next 4- 5 days.

Today was a hard slog. I finished tonight at about 10,000 ft having had a very hard climb from Saraguro down in the valley. It's still raining and getting colder. My waterproofing is starting to fail, nothing seems to be dry and my old worn 'waterproof' bags can't hack it any more. The bergen cover is useless and I'm soaked to the skin. I'm living in water world and the atmosphere in my tent tonight is cold and damp. You do get to see some beautiful scenery up here but!

Wednesday, 28th June 2000. 79 degrees 10 minutes west, 03 degrees 25 minutes south.

Just a banana and two spoonfuls of soya powder for breakfast and then it's straight into the hill reps. I continued climbing for a few more k's than it levelled out along the top. It reminds me very much of Scotland up here, pine trees and hills, it all looked so familiar. The sound of the wind through the pine trees takes me back to the mountains in Argentina. It's not such a bad day today either, the sun's out and it's a lot drier, with just the odd bank of wet mist. Most of the day I'm travelling downhill into a deep valley. The only problem is it's a bitch of a hill, and I have to start climbing first thing tomorrow. Back down in the valley it crawling with bugs. I myself have crawled into some thick bush for the night. Just before last light I heard someone coming my way.... then stop. It seemed they must have caught sight of my tent, and it went silent. I waited for a while but heard nothing more, and just before it could probably dark I left the tent to see if anyone was still around. I found no trace so sat for a while out of sight to see if I could pick up on anything moving.... still nothing!

It got dark and the stars came out. Up in front of me, was a group of stars known as the Southern Cross. This consolation always takes me back and I conjure up a 'slide-show' of people and places way down south. When I see the cross I can't help but associate it with Patagonia, when I spent hours cowering from the wind but still mesmerised by the desert night sky. I noticed today that I've lost my monocular. God knows where, but the Velcro fastening on the pouch isn't what it used to be and dragging my kit around through the bush like I do, it's hardly surprising.

Saturday, 22nd July 2000.

With my energy intake basically at zero I feel it almost immediately, but I'm convinced I'll make it to Quito in a few days if I can keep up the distance per day. These are long days. It's an uphill climb for the next few hours, but by midday I'm near to the town of Machachi and decide I need a stop. I pullover at what I believe is a normal roadside cafe, but then I spot rows of extremely expensive cars in the car-park and realise this is far from normal. The building seemed to have been converted from some old cattle market, with a covered walkway leading to the door. Standing about the place are big city people. The girls are in a class of their own, with legs longer than mine, and tight fitting jeans or dresses. Some are natural blondes and around here that means money. I limp into the covered way in shit state, like some old smelly dog, drop my bergen off and take out my grubby mug, which has a coffee and sugar mixture pre-set for a brew stop. I walk in and ask at the counter for hot water. The looks I get! Anyway, the barman takes the mug with two fingers and disappears round the back. Some of the people here seem to find the whole thing quite amusing and I look around to see tables filled with food, real food. My coffee is returned and I sit outside on my bergen. It seems the people hanging about outside are waiting for tables. Once my coffee is finished I then change the dressings on my feet. As people leave I get some real looks......' I've had lunch with the Queen I'll have you know! The Queen...!!

I push on, Christ, it feels like my boots are filled with glass. Later that afternoon, it begins raining and I get soaked through. At a prominent T-junction I find a group of buildings and a cafe so I take '10'. It's getting late and today's goal, Tambillo, still lies some way off. The cafe is a greasy fast food joint, but its dry. I take out a small bag containing a second prepared coffee mixture and scrounge some more hot water. Two flash motors pull up outside, and a group of girls, dressed up to the nines, get out accompanied by two smartly dressed chaps who look like they're heading for a good night out. They all equip themselves with hamburgers etc and prance about in front of me. Some girl with a body capable of crushing any man's mind, and dressed in something like a black skin-tight cat suit decides to have a bit of a flirt with me as I sit there, looking like someone who's just been through an air-raid. One of the guys comes over to talk to me. They speak English course, well educated and from rich families. The girl and one of her friends join him. They are curious and want to know what I'm doing. The girl then tells me they're off to a party and would I like to come,.... Why don't you just shoot me!

They leave and she blows me a kiss,.... life sucks!

It's getting late, I've got to move on and find somewhere to sleep. I'm close to Tambillo and the traffic is heavy. I pass empty McDonald's wrappers and KFC boxes on the roadside,.. give me strength! It's a fair indication you're close to a big city. Some chap in a 4 x 4 pulls up and asks what I'm doing. I explain, and he then tells me he's off to his friends place just up the road and if I want to I can pitch tent there, which is very good news as it's late now, and I can't find anywhere at all. " If you want to you can join us, we are having a party".

Well, it looks like the world's suddenly falling into place and my life, a planned whirlwind of good times and gaiety, is about to lift off.--- Hours later, its dark and I'm lost! I am so tired and pissed off, I just cannot find the house. I'd been partially eaten by a dozen dogs, fallen flat on my face a dozen times on these rocky stone paths and eventually been forced to give up and carry on in the hope I can find somewhere to sleep. Unfortunately it's 21:00 and I'm in a town. Next to some large road junction I find a hedge to hide behind. It's a cold wet night.

Sunday, 23rd July 2000. Total distance to date : 5,242 miles approx.

It's a very cold start, only three degrees C....well cold for this place. I've been pushing hard for days now and eating nothing. I feel very weak, nauseous and just so hungry, but I know by the end of the day all will be well. Just this last push. Quito is just over the hill range to my front but it would still be a long day as the city itself is 30 kilometres long and I won't get to the outskirts until midday.

I start the climb, and it's about 11:00 when I actually reach the southern outskirts of the city. From my view point at the top of the hill range the city is stretched out before me along a long valley, very impressive to see. Snow-capped peaks overshadow the hustle and bustle below. Pichincha, a 4,784 ft volcano, and very active, sits right next to the city. A few years ago it blew a very spectacular 'H bomb' mushroom cloud over the city and covered the place in ash. The outskirts are a bit rough and there were a number of occasions that got my heart thumping as I expected trouble at any moment. Since yesterday I'd been mentally preparing myself for entering the city, so that I was fully cocked and on a very light trigger. Almost looking for trouble.

For the best part of the day I pick my way straight through the centre of town. I'm convinced the address I'm looking for is in the north of the city, the farthest point from me. Midway through the town I asked some policemen to confirm the address and to my absolute horror, after a study of the street map they tell me it's in the south of the city,( about three hours back up the valley!). I freak out! You're wrong, you have got to be wrong and I make them check again. They end up asking a bus driver and it now turns out it's more than an hour from here.... by bus! I'm getting pissed off now and so I leave them to it, scratching their heads and pointing in different directions. As I reach the north of the city I stop for a brew break and ask people in a cafe if they know where the address is. They confirmed my worst fears, it's not in Quito at all, it's in San Antonio, a town of that sits on the equator, a further 20 k's to the north. It's about 16:00 now and there's not a cat in hells chance I am going to reach it tonight, not in this state anyway. More freaking out! I walk back to my bergen outside, throw my map at it and sit head in hands. Mother would have sent some money to the Western Union office in Quito but its Sunday so I can't get at it... Christ! Now what?

A family walked past and the son comes back to talk to me. During the conversation I drop in the fact that I could do with somewhere to sleep. It goes to the vote, and the family agreed. There's a turn-up for the books. They live back down town so I throw my bergen into the boot and we all pile in the car. The father says that he is just going to pick up something from work first and then.... it's too late, I'm already asleep. What seems to me moments later I wake to find were still on the move. I take a quick look at the sun and ask "Where are we heading?"

" Oh, we know where your friends lives so we're taking you to them."

" No, no! You can't..... I can't..." I try to explain but they just don't get it.

" We phoned your friends and they're going to meet us in San Antonio."

" No!..Oh!... OK!" It's too late now, I'll just have to put it right later.

At a road junction we wait then eventually meet up with Jacinto Imbaquingo (Jack), his wife Marina, son Diego and daughter Maria Isabel.( Karl's cousin, Jason Metcalfe also from Hull, is married to the family's eldest daughter Carolin. They both work on cruise liners and are away most of the time.) I was greeted like a long-lost son, hugs and kisses all round. I explained I must return to Quito in order to walk here but Jack suggested that as this car journey had been made I might as well return and do the walk later as go back right this moment. Although not initially very happy with this it dawned upon me that I was extremely cold. It's a simple case of when you don't eat you get cold, which explains why I would see the homeless on the desert roads wearing all sorts of thick clothing. A bad diet or lack of food and your thermostat gets screwed up, you just don't have the energy to keep yourself warm. Even on a hot day, as today was, you feel cold. I was hustled away in the car, to a house only a few blocks away. There I was given a room to myself with its own shower, toilet, TV and video (with cable) and oh boy! a big double bed! I crashed on to it and that was that for the day.

The next few days were spent being pampered like a big fat fluffy cat, which I can't really cope with. There should have been some money waiting for me at the Western Union office but it hadn't arrived. More or less everything I did, or every move I made... someone was with me. These people were overwhelming me with kindness, I didn't have to lift a finger, which you would have thought was excellent news, but somehow it really not for me. I knew the money situation had been a very tight for the family recently. Jack was a teacher and with Ecuador's collapsing economy he hadn't been paid for several months, and of course I could contribute nothing at the moment. Meal times were set phases with rice and the small portion of some meat. Breakfast was one hard-boiled egg, a cup of coffee and the cover of orange juice. What I really needed was to be able to go out and buy some food that I could bulk up on. As it was I was very slowly withering away. I couldn’t say anything though, these people were doing their level best. Each day I checked but still no money.

Friday, 1st September 2000.

A rough nights sleep on the hard stony ground, which was complemented nicely by the torment of many bites. The day consisted mainly of a long uphill climb out of the first valley and then into a second one at around midday. Then all afternoon was a slow uphill climb that was extremely hard work having eaten nothing. Also having little water I was constantly extremely thirsty, at times trying to breathe through my nose so as not to dry out my mouth, but there were times when I was left gasping heavily. As I climbed to higher altitudes the surroundings got greener, but the day became a lot tougher, the air still and hot. I expected to reach San Jose de Minas at around midday, hopefully, but in fact never got there until 16:00 that afternoon. I had only a sketch map of this area drawn by myself from a school atlas. It gave little detail and my presumably straight roads had been nothing but winding curves, swinging east / west for great distances. I seemed to have made little progress north. When I came into town I was on my chinstrap and drank and ate like a dying man. After rest and a brief period of catching up with my notes it was getting late and I pondered on the possibility of a hostel room, but didn't want to start that again, so I left town loaded with food and water.

I started by climbing a steep track to find a road I had been told was the shorter and more direct route at to Otavalo, and ran above the small town. By the time I reached 'road', (gasping and wheezing), it was already late and getting dark. To my horror I found it was nothing like a road, but a very rough track. To my right, was a steep cliff topped with bushes and a wire fence. To my left another hedgerow and fence before a sharp drop. There was just nowhere large enough to pitch a tent, and so I was forced to walk into the night. It was like walking over piles of rubble, I stumbled and fell about, twisting and straining my ankles. The pain and frustration mounted and progress was slow, I should have stayed in town! Some time later I did find the chance to scale a fence and climb into a field with just enough level ground to make camp. I had been climbing steadily all day and it was now cold and I was wet from the cloud layer that covered the hills.

Wednesday, 6th September 2000.

By the morning the sky had cleared and the sun was on its way up again. I spent time drying things out before I set off. Yet again the road carried on uphill until it reached El Angel, where I had planned to eat well and stock up before moving on. The scenery from this height is extremely impressive, with snow-capped peaks and deep valleys below. The day was hot as I made my way to El Angel, reaching the town by 11:00. I was a little late for breakfast so asked for lunch at a small restaurant. I got some cold greasy chicken and chips, didn't even get a coffee or tea. That was a first, bang goes my theory of a ubiquitous lunch. In fact once I started looking around I found no one had coffee or tea and the shops had no pasta or anything else of use. I got quite peeved, I didn't care much for this place, ending up buying some boiled sweets and two litres of water. I had to buy it, I've never bought water before! Looking at the map I decided I would be in Tulcan about midday tomorrow so it's not a problem spending one hungry night. The route itself was nothing more than a simple 48 k's,--- how wrong I was.

As I set off looking for a track that would give me a short cut, storm clouds came over the mountains and the sky darkened. The temperature immediately dropped and there was a chill in the air. The muddy track began to ascend, and I realised I was rapidly gaining altitude. I was soon bombarded by hailstones and put on my Gortex jacket. The downpour increased, now it was a mix of sleet, rain and hail. My poor old jacket failed and I began to get very wet and extremely cold. I kept on climbing. My map had no indication of altitude so this sudden gain in height was a little unexpected, and certainly not welcome. Thunder boomed as lightning flashed about the hills. Farmland gave way to sparse wasteland as vegetation faded out with altitude. The hail and rain almost became snow like and began to settle. The track became a small river and at times I was ankle deep in ice cold running water. I'd lost all feeling in my hands, numbed by the cold, this wasn't good, this wasn't T-shirt weather at all and to my horror I climbed ever upwards. The track for some unfavourable reason was headed for some peaks high above me which were covered with snow. I was now exhausted, frozen to the core, soaked to the skin and bitterly miserable. By about 15:00 I finally reach the top. This morning I'd been cooking under a burning sun and only a few hours later I'm standing in ice and snow. I try to get a photo but the camera would not work. I tried the Walkman, it to was dead-- the batteries must have died in the sudden cold. Anyway I couldn't stop or standstill for long. I was shaking violently and the sleet and rain were coming down harder still. There seemed no end to it. Christ, I've got to get off his high ground! On crossing the peaks I was met by a gloomy sight. The land just seemed flatten out on to a plateau, resembling the top of the Brecon Beacons. Moorland, bleak and desolate. I pushed on as fast as possible, stumbling through mud and over stones and rocks. By now my hands, feet and face were numb, seemingly frozen solid. It's a good thing there was no wind for if there had I would have been in real trouble. I descended slightly as the track wound its way along the mountain top. I saw strange, well strange to me anyway, high altitude plants and a coarse grass, which was all that seemed to be up here. I could see from horizon to horizon and apparently nothing lived up here. If only I could out run the storm I thought, I need to get out of the rain, and if I try to pitch tent in this the inner tent will be soaked before I have a chance to get the fly sheet on top, it seemed hopeless. I grew very tired as well as extremely cold.

About 17:30 I spied an old abandoned house on a hill and hope blossomed. As I grew closer I noticed the roof was all but gone and my hope of shelter dwindled. However all was not lost as one corner still had its roof, a few slate tiles. There was just enough to keep one corner dry, and just enough room for me to erect my tent. Despite all the hard walking I'd been doing for the past five hours I was still frozen to the core. Just how cold it was I don't actually know, and relatively speaking it may not have been all that cold, however having spent almost two years in an eternal summer a sudden drop like this felt like death. I scraped a space clear of debris, fumbling with my numb hands. I found it difficult to unpack equipment, erect the tent or in fact do anything. Slowly I got my act together but as darkness fell, so did the temperature. That night it was so cold I barely slept. Mind you, trying to sleep on that lumpy concrete floor was painfully uncomfortable and didn't help. However the cold remained the real problem. In the early hours I was a little pissed off so eventually closed the tent right down as best I could and lit some candles to heat the interior. This worked, and I grabbed an hour or two's shut-eye before sunrise.

Come the morning and things appeared to be on the up. It was still very cold in the weak rays of the sun but I began to hang out kit and clothing and tried to dry them as best I could in the time I had. I got a small fire going to warm up my socks,-- after ringing them out.

Thursday, 7th September 2000. Tulcan.

08:00, I was on the move and it wasn't long before I realised just how tired I was. I felt very weak having not eaten. Still on this damn track, stumbling about, and being so tired I was easily annoyed by the slightest thing, cursing out loud every time I fell. At long last I began to descend into a maze of spurs, valleys and re-entrants etc. Farmland began to appear although I was still dropping and climbing steeply. I grew weaker still, and began to slowdown, forced to take pauses for breath from time to time. The day became a real grind. Now it was the sun's turn and it became intense. I felt nauseous and dizzy, struggling to get over each hill. Christ! I'd never felt this bad. I didn't have far to go until Tulcan, yet it felt never-ending.

At last I made it back onto the Pan-American and only had the 8 k's or even less to do before I reached the town. I was in shit state, however now on the road, I would find food and drink, and I crashed out for a while. The sun was burning and shade was a must. I felt terrible but got myself together and made for town. As I crossed into town I would have to look fit and healthy as weak and sickly looking animals make good prey and every town has its outskirts and slums. Before I'd reached the centre of town I crashed into a restaurant. Yet my desire to eat was waylaid by a stronger desire to do absolutely nothing. I could hardly be bothered to lift my head from the table. After some food I went in search of a hostel. The first one I came to offered a room for $1 US, excellent a 'dollar squalor', just the thing. These places are all the same. It was run by a group of fat indian women and a ten year old boy, as is normally the case. A grotty little room, empty except for a bed and the single only light bulb suspended on bare wires from the centre of the ceiling.

I slept for a while then later went in search of food. It's a small town and not a lot here. The restaurants I found were miserable and the food unpleasant and I still couldn't find anywhere that had coffee. "Christ! The border with Colombia is only 7 k's down the road,-- what do you mean you have no coffee?" The forth restaurant I sampled was of better standing and I hadn't been in there long before a group of girls came in, sat next to me and began to flirt in English albeit very limited. They were in their late teens, lived in Quito and were here for a week or two's break with their families. My main mission here was to collect my two bags and find some way of getting them into Colombia. There was no bus service that ran into, or rather would carry my bags into Colombia, so I would have to do it myself. The girls offered a solution. They had friends with a car and I asked if it would be possible to help me out. Yes, that wouldn't be a problem, however it would have to be tomorrow (Saturday 9th) as the car was in for repair at present.

Ipiales is a small town just over the border and from there I can send the bags on to Pasto, my next stop. I decided the best bet would be to hang out with girls most of the time. Tulcan is the highest town in Ecuador. I'm not sure how high but it's very cold when there's no sun. It's all woolly hats, scarves and gloves here, very cold at night. You won't find gringos here. We all went out that night, had a dance and got extremely merry on rum and coke. True to my survivalist code I never spent a thing. The girls were part of an extended family group staying at their late grandmother's home. There was Mum, five girls between 15 and 34, lots of kids, plus some friends. Needless to say the house got a little hectic at times, but as is always the case they couldn't do enough for me.

When Saturday afternoon came around their friend with the car could not be found, so Plan B was to use the taxis that run the route, however having humped my kit across town to the taxi park, we found they only worked half days and so were closed. Right then! Plan C. The family would return to Quito tomorrow, but this evening the husband of one of the older sisters was coming up in his car to drive members of the family back the following morning. However he would first drive my bags and I into Ipiales where we could get them into the system and he would bring me back. We all went out that night but came back relatively early as the little frontier towns are so grim and boring, besides we had to be up at 06:00, (I had exchanged the 'dollar squalor' for the house).

The mission into Colombia went oddly well and ran smoothly. Getting across the border into Colombia was the slickest and easiest so far and yet I'd thought that the checkpoint here would be the most stringent. On my way back into Ecuador we just drove straight through, didn't even bother getting an entry or exit stamp and no one stopped us. For Ecuadorian's it's even easier, you just have to show your national ID card. Back in town we said our goodbyes, ate a lot and I was on the road for 10:15.

Back to top