Fun and Panic at 9350 Feet.

It was a dark and stormy day in Boise as my plane pulled away from the gate on the first leg of the long journey to Ecuador. I was hoping that we could take off before it got too ugly, but the pilot had to wait for the plane to be de-iced. Just as they finished, the squall struck, blowing snow and hail practically horizontally. We finally got off about forty minutes late.

That should have been a clue that all was not going to go smoothly.

But the the turbulence subsided as we reached altitude, and the views through breaks in the clouds were spectacular.

We were late arriving in LA, and of course the gate for my flight to Panama City was as far as it could possibly be from my arrival gate. I walked as fast as I could through the vast maze that is LAX. It took almost forty minutes, but I made it in time to grab a martini and a grilled cheese before boarding.

The flight to Panama was long, hot, and crowded, but we were treated to a gorgeous sunrise with the lights of dozens of ships queuing up on the Pacific side of the canal.

Several hours later, we broke through the clouds above the verdant hills of Quito.

I had booked a room at a lovely old hotel in the La Floresta district downtown. Nicely renovated, but still retaining an agreeable modicum of funk.

And there the travel gods once again had a little chuckle at my expense. Somewhere, somehow the key to my luggage had disappeared. I searched high and low, but no dice. Finally, with the help of the hotel manager's toolbox, I broke the lock.

So I decided to combine a little sightseeing with a search for a new lock. 

La Floresta is a busy neighborhood, with lots of shops and restaurants. Across the street from the hotel is the world's coolest internet cafe.

And this spooky old place is just around the corner.

I was quite taken with whatever this is. A drunken cowboy in a festive hood? A funky foreshadowing of things to come, as it turns out.

I wandered for several miles toward the historical center of town, practicing how to say "I need a lock for my luggage" in Spanish. (Necesito un cadandito por mi maleta.)

After a few tries I found one for $1.50. By the Ecuador is the only Latin American country that uses USD as their currency, which greatly simplifies life for us gringos.

The historical center features many beautiful old colonial buildings.

I'm a sucker for this kind of Catholic iconography.

And they have goats. Being petted by a unicorn!

I always visit the central market to check out the local foodstuffs.

I usually eat lunch at the market, but the pig's head stall was closed, and nothing else measured up.

The main square had more pigeons than people.

But big doings were brewing in the centro.

A nattily-dressed horse and his boy.

 

After much pomping, parading and pooping, the horsemen saluted a set of dignitaries. There was a brief speech, then everyone dispersed.

I checked this place out for lunch, but something about the wait staff put me off. So I found a little pizza place instead.

That night I had an amazing dinner at Somos. I knew I was in for a treat when I saw the outside.

The fun continued inside.

Wait! There's that weird mug-headed creature with the colorful dreads. Is he following me?

A superb cocktail soon put my trepidations to rest. The Smoked Miske combines lemon juice, Ecuadorean miske (house agave), and ginger syrup. It's finished with a rim of hibiscus salt and smoked with palo santo wood. Very delicious.

And then there were the guinea pig (cuy) dumplings in an outstanding ginger-chili sauce. Excellent food. Certainly the best I've ever had in Ecuador.

The morning brought me a further kick in the pants from the travel gods. This time it was serious. I was buying my bus ticket from Quito to Mindo in the Ecuadorian cloud forest and I couldn't find my passport. I dug frantically through my fully-stuffed backpack, but no luck. They waved me through anyway, and I figured it had just gotten lost under all my stuff. I reasoned that I could find it when I got to the hotel and unpacked. But that didn't keep me from worrying the whole way.

The two-hour ride through the mountains is twisty and slow-going, but the scenery is magnificent. 

Mindo is a small town with a small river. It's about 4100 feet, less than half the altitude of Quito--hot and humid and incredibly green.

My room wasn't ready so I took a taxi to the butterfly center.

There were hundreds of butterflies fluttering by. Really a stunning sight. A feast of color.

Butterflies feasting on bananas.

Even some flies without butter.

In the forest, I found the spot where they filmed Spirited Away.

Seriously, if you've never watched it, you really should.

When I finally got into my room, I emptied both my backpacks. No passport.

Now I was seriously worried. I tried to remember when I saw it last. At the hotel in Quito when I checked in. Had I gotten it back? I thought so, but I wasn't sure. Where would I have put it? Either in my backpack or my pocket. But I was wearing the same pants and there was no passport in my pocket. Could it have fallen out somewhere?

I tried calling the hotel. No answer. I sent them an email. No reply. I called the restaurant where I'd had lunch. No one had found a passport. Could it have fallen out in my room somewhere? 

As the evening wore on, I got still more fretful. I looked up how to get a new passport from the U.S. Embassy. It's a real process. Luckily, I have a photo of my passport and my birth certificate on my computer, but still how long would it take? How much of my trip would I have to cancel before I got a new passport?

I was due back in Quito on Friday, and I knew the embassy would close over the weekend, so I decided to abort my stay in the cloud forest and catch the early morning bus back to Quito on Thursday. Fortunately, the hotel manager in Mindo was willing to reimburse me for the second night.

I didn't get much sleep.

I got back to Quito around 9, staggered out to the street to get an Uber, and who was there to greet me?

I knew then that things were going to be all right.

I got back to the hotel and roused the manager. He shook his head when I told him my sad tale. Where had I last seen my passport? Checking into the hotel. He shook his head again. Then he said, "Well, maybe." He lifted the lid on the scanner he used to make a copy of my passport, and there it was. 

Still in the fucking scanner.

I almost broke out in tears of relief. 

So things are back on track. Tomorrow I visit Cotopaxi, the stratovolcano just outside of town. I'm sorry to have missed another day in the cloud forest, but at least I can continue with the rest of this adventure.

So it turns out that the weird creature that's been following me about is called a diablo humo. A devil's head. It's a mask worn by traditional Ecuadorian dancers and is a particular favorite here. The diablo humo always heads the procession of dancers and is supposed to lead the way to spiritual opening.

I take that as a good omen for the rest of the trip.

And I have the t-shirt to remind me.

P.