As I write, a cloud of ash from a volcanic eruption in Iceland is drifting south over the UK and northern Europe. No one has any idea how long the eruption will go on. For safety reasons all UK airspace has been closed and all flights cancelled. It seems an apposite time reprint my article about my volcanic encounter in Ecuador in 1999.
Waiting for Pichincha
Apart from on Sundays when the whole of Ecuador seems to close, the Avenida Amazonas in Quito is always busy and usually a little chaotic. Even at 8:30 in the morning it is crowded with people threading their way to work through the tables of the pavement cafes and the stalls setting up for business. Men in suits are already sitting inside the cafés drinking beer. The army of street vendors have begun their manoeuvres.
Last week I sat outside Manola's Cafe and counted them. In the twenty minutes it took to eat breakfast I was approached by three sun-glasses salesmen, one watch salesman, five shoe-shine boys, four little old ladies selling paintings and no fewer than nine people offering me pictures of the 7th October eruption of the nearby Guagua Pichincha Volcano. This last occupation is something of a booming cottage industry in Quito. The same dramatic picture of the white and grey smoke towering above the cone of the volcano against a perfect cloudless sky adorns posters, T-shirts, calendars and postcards.
I didn´t arrive here until 24th October so that I had missed the event itself but the merchandising was in full swing and with the city still on Yellow Alert there was always the chance that the volcano might do something else spectacular for me.
I like Ecuador and in particular I like Quito which doesn't feel at all like a capitol city. It's 42 km long but only 6 km wide and, with a population of about two million, is big enough to have plenty to do and see but lacks the impersonal unfriendliness of, say, Mexico City or Panama City. Even all of those street salesmen are just trying to make a living and a simple 'No Gracias' is usually enough to send them on their way. (Although the shoe-shine boys seem to have a problem grasping the concept that my sandals do not need their attention !)
The changes to my plans caused by having to drop Columbia from my itinerary had given me three weeks in Quito. Such a long stay gave me plenty of opportunity to get to know it rather well. Roughly speaking it is divided into four bands, the southern suburbs, the old city, the new city and, in the north, the business section. I confined my explorations to the old and new cities.
The old city with its steep narrow streets is a busy, bustling and not especially safe place. Two Plazas, San Francisco and Independencia, dominate it. The former is a crowded lively square overlooked by the oldest church and monastery in the city, San Francisco, which inside is filed with elaborate gold-leaf covered carvings. Above the altar is a statue of 'The Virgin of Quito' an enormous copy of which overlooks the city from the nearby Panecillo Hill.
The Plaza de Independencia is a pleasant green park with the independence monument at its centre. On three sides it is bounded by impressive old colonial buildings including the splendid governor's palace. On the fourth side the authorities have bypassed their own planning regulations and built the ugly squat concrete block of the local government offices.
Further north, in the new city, there are many more tourists and hence many more of the shops and businesses that cater for them; restaurants, cafes, souvenir shops. The streets are wider and the buildings more modern although architecturally it is a bit of a mess. There are mock fairy tale castles, curved and painted Chinese pagodas, Moorish and North African buildings and a dozen other styles which invariably turn out to be restaurants, karaoke bars or internet cafes.
It didn´t take me long to settle into a routine. The Ecuadorian National Orchestra School and its less than virtuoso tuba player next door to my hotel ensure that I rise early. After breakfast I spend the morning reading, writing or just ambling about sight-seeing. Then it's off to the British Council for some lunch and a Spanish Lesson, followed by a couple of beers with my Belgian friend Manu who is also travelling around the Americas and dinner in one of the wide variety of international restaurants.
Every evening ends the same way with a few hours in the Reina Victoria, a reasonable facsimile of an English pub complete with stout and bitter to compliment the ubiquitous South American lager.
There the conversation invariably returns to the subject of the volcano and what effect, if any, its potential eruption is having on the city. No-one seems very worried. Apart from the pictures for sale and a lot more people selling and wearing dust masks the only noticeable results have been that the hotels are emptier so that good rates can be negotiated and all of the monuments have been covered with a protective layer of polythene spoiling the tourists' photography. Otherwise everywhere is business as usual, even if there is a slightly sharp edge to some of the humour. Captain Ron, who manages the pub for its owners Gary and Dorothy, has repeated his
"If the lava reaches Avenida Amazonas I'm out of here !'
a little too often for it to be a very comfortable joke and the eruption of Tungurahua further south has led to the evacuation of 15000 people from Baños, so remote or not the possibility of danger does exist.
Tomorrow I leave Quito and the volcano is still not co-operating in doing anything spectacular for me. True, the latest dustfall has been severe enough to make the streets look like a winter scene and to close the airport but it is only dust after all. It's not the same as being able to write first hand about vast smoke clouds or fire in the sky. If that happens at all now it will be after I've gone. If everything goes according to expectations the city will be fine if rather dirty and the street vendors will have a new set of pictures to sell. Until then I´ll be travelling south and leaving everyone here sitting around and speculating and waiting for Pichincha.
Last week I sat outside Manola's Cafe and counted them. In the twenty minutes it took to eat breakfast I was approached by three sun-glasses salesmen, one watch salesman, five shoe-shine boys, four little old ladies selling paintings and no fewer than nine people offering me pictures of the 7th October eruption of the nearby Guagua Pichincha Volcano. This last occupation is something of a booming cottage industry in Quito. The same dramatic picture of the white and grey smoke towering above the cone of the volcano against a perfect cloudless sky adorns posters, T-shirts, calendars and postcards.
I didn´t arrive here until 24th October so that I had missed the event itself but the merchandising was in full swing and with the city still on Yellow Alert there was always the chance that the volcano might do something else spectacular for me.
I like Ecuador and in particular I like Quito which doesn't feel at all like a capitol city. It's 42 km long but only 6 km wide and, with a population of about two million, is big enough to have plenty to do and see but lacks the impersonal unfriendliness of, say, Mexico City or Panama City. Even all of those street salesmen are just trying to make a living and a simple 'No Gracias' is usually enough to send them on their way. (Although the shoe-shine boys seem to have a problem grasping the concept that my sandals do not need their attention !)
The changes to my plans caused by having to drop Columbia from my itinerary had given me three weeks in Quito. Such a long stay gave me plenty of opportunity to get to know it rather well. Roughly speaking it is divided into four bands, the southern suburbs, the old city, the new city and, in the north, the business section. I confined my explorations to the old and new cities.
The old city with its steep narrow streets is a busy, bustling and not especially safe place. Two Plazas, San Francisco and Independencia, dominate it. The former is a crowded lively square overlooked by the oldest church and monastery in the city, San Francisco, which inside is filed with elaborate gold-leaf covered carvings. Above the altar is a statue of 'The Virgin of Quito' an enormous copy of which overlooks the city from the nearby Panecillo Hill.
The Plaza de Independencia is a pleasant green park with the independence monument at its centre. On three sides it is bounded by impressive old colonial buildings including the splendid governor's palace. On the fourth side the authorities have bypassed their own planning regulations and built the ugly squat concrete block of the local government offices.
Further north, in the new city, there are many more tourists and hence many more of the shops and businesses that cater for them; restaurants, cafes, souvenir shops. The streets are wider and the buildings more modern although architecturally it is a bit of a mess. There are mock fairy tale castles, curved and painted Chinese pagodas, Moorish and North African buildings and a dozen other styles which invariably turn out to be restaurants, karaoke bars or internet cafes.
It didn´t take me long to settle into a routine. The Ecuadorian National Orchestra School and its less than virtuoso tuba player next door to my hotel ensure that I rise early. After breakfast I spend the morning reading, writing or just ambling about sight-seeing. Then it's off to the British Council for some lunch and a Spanish Lesson, followed by a couple of beers with my Belgian friend Manu who is also travelling around the Americas and dinner in one of the wide variety of international restaurants.
Every evening ends the same way with a few hours in the Reina Victoria, a reasonable facsimile of an English pub complete with stout and bitter to compliment the ubiquitous South American lager.
There the conversation invariably returns to the subject of the volcano and what effect, if any, its potential eruption is having on the city. No-one seems very worried. Apart from the pictures for sale and a lot more people selling and wearing dust masks the only noticeable results have been that the hotels are emptier so that good rates can be negotiated and all of the monuments have been covered with a protective layer of polythene spoiling the tourists' photography. Otherwise everywhere is business as usual, even if there is a slightly sharp edge to some of the humour. Captain Ron, who manages the pub for its owners Gary and Dorothy, has repeated his
"If the lava reaches Avenida Amazonas I'm out of here !'
a little too often for it to be a very comfortable joke and the eruption of Tungurahua further south has led to the evacuation of 15000 people from Baños, so remote or not the possibility of danger does exist.
Tomorrow I leave Quito and the volcano is still not co-operating in doing anything spectacular for me. True, the latest dustfall has been severe enough to make the streets look like a winter scene and to close the airport but it is only dust after all. It's not the same as being able to write first hand about vast smoke clouds or fire in the sky. If that happens at all now it will be after I've gone. If everything goes according to expectations the city will be fine if rather dirty and the street vendors will have a new set of pictures to sell. Until then I´ll be travelling south and leaving everyone here sitting around and speculating and waiting for Pichincha.
No comments:
Post a Comment