Crack to Heaven

Thursday 3rd March 1988

I had breakfast with delicious blackberry yoghurt in the bakery on central square by the Basilica Reina del Rosario de Agua Santa. Then I returned to the hotel room to dye my white Rohan waistcoat (with lots of zipped pockets) dark green. This was a messy but successful business which resulted in green fingers.

In between mixing the dye and adding the salt, stirring the brew, etc. I listened in on the exchange of information from travellers that had come up into Ecuador from the south. An Australian/Spanish bloke was a mine of useful information on Peru, Bolivia, Chile and Argentina. He also had a good set of photographs from these countries to show us.

Next, I went out to post my postcards and changed up some money. Baños is only a small town but it took me a while to find the Banco del Pacifico, despite asking about six people for directions along the way. The rate for the $US dollar was down to 330 Sucres today.

I walked briefly around the town which was very quiet, getting whistles and sniggers at my Rohan shorts. I returned to the hotel courtyard to do some washing and read the South American Handbook 1988 in order to decide where to go next.

It is a dull overcast day until the sun came out when I moved out to sit in the courtyard to translate articles in the newspaper “Hoy” (“Today”). Hoy, was a daily publication in Ecuador, which was published from June 7, 1982 until August 26, 2014. Its editorial office is located in Quito, and it is currently published simultaneously in Guayaquil in electronic format. It was created by Jaime Mantilla Anderson. During its life, Hoy earned a reputation for openness to all political views in the Ecuadorian press.

Later on, I went for a walk down to the ravine where a tumultuous brown river cuts it’s way past Baños. There was a steep hair-pinned track running down to a suspension bridge which spanned the gorge high above the Rio Pastaza river. Here you could cross the “Crack to Heaven”, on the suspension bridge and admire the waterfall and vegetation in all its splendour.

Halfway down there was a caged cave with a shrine to Saint Francis. A miserable looking effigy of the saint stood in a glass case standing on a flower-bedecked altar. I sat down on the bridge, which was constructed of solid timbers across train rails, the whole lot supported by rusty wire hawsers. The drop into the valley made me feel giddy.

Returning to the hotel I bought a beer and sat with Anja, Aneka and a Swiss guy chatting in the sun until 17:30 hrs when we all went out for a chow mein together in a café just off the square. A few more beers followed as we chatted about Nicaragua and Albania.

On the way back we bumped into Ola and Kent who had just arrived in town. We went for a few more beers in Patty’s, joined by yet more Swedes. I wanted to go up the Tungurahua Volcano tomorrow, but I was relaxed and couldn’t be bothered to pack up my stuff this evening. “Mañana”, I thought and had a few more beers before going to bed at 22:30 hrs.