What's Your Itinerary?

The worst is over.  I did all the unpleasant trip preparation.  I successfully moved out of my classroom, cleaned and rented my condo, and handled nearly all of the tiny details associated with this trip.  l am gearing up for my year away.   As I speak with people about my trip, the reactions have been interesting, and there have been trends.  The most common things I have heard are:

1.  Aren't you just so excited?
2. What is your itinerary?

Now, donn't get me wrong, these are perfectly reasonable questions to ask.  In fact, I think I've probably asked them myself before of others.  What I see now, being on the receiving end, is that I can't seem to deliver the neat-and-tidy answers that the askers seek!

With the first question:  Aren't you just so excited?  They're looking for me to gush about how lucky I am, all the amazing things I'm going to see and do, and they never seem quite prepared for my real answer:  "At the moment, I'm more nervous than excited."  Perhaps that's due to the nature of my trip, first ping-ponging between friends in the US before leaving the country in September, delaying the sense of "departure".  Or perhaps it's because there have been countless details to coordinate:  insurance, health care coverage, flights, accommodation, visas, packing, not to mention being prepared for both a wedding and Burning Man before I leave!  Or maybe, just maybe, it's me.  I don't tend to see things in simplified form.  Rather, I look upon my trip with a mix of emotions:  excitement, nervousness, sadness, fear, thankfulness, and task-orientedness (making up new words to suit).  No big endeavor like this, a year away from loved ones, can be simplified to one feeling.  Now, having said this, I want to be sure I've said that I know that I am incredibly fortunate.   I have one-year to get away from it all, and do whatever I want (until my life savings run out).  It took a lot of hard work, frugal living, and sacrifice, but I know how lucky I am.

Now the second question has been the real stumper:  What is your itinerary?  People are never prepared for how I answer this: "I don't have one."  It is almost always followed up with: "No, I mean, where are you going to go?"  As if I somehow hadn't understood their question.  This is usually followed but a slight chuckle from me, as I realize I just can't give them the information they want.  Most US travelers, are used to short trips.  They buy their flight and hotel package, arrange for the rental car, probably even pre-book a tour.  I get it.  On short trips, you don't want to spend any of your time away negotiating the details.  For me, planning that out ahead of time would feel like suffocation.  Any trip 2 weeks or longer, for me, is subject to the "no-plan" plan.  I book my flight, maybe the first night's accommodation....  and that's it!

For most people, when I explain this, there is a certain amount of short-circuiting that happens, faces struck with some degree of panic.  It seems my style of travel isn't for everyone.  The way I explain it to people is this:  teaching is a very regimented way of life.  Everything is routines, planning, organization, preparation, structure.  These things make me an effective teacher, but they slowly kill my inner artist.  Travel is my antidote: going with the flow, being spontaneous, and just seeing where life takes me.  The common misconception for people, is that having a fluid travel plan somehow means I am naive, like I don't realize what might be out there.  To my mind, it's quite the opposite.  I'm a very well-prepared traveler.  I have a standard packing list to cover all my bases, I read the Lonely Planet guides, read the state department's travel and health warnings, I learn some of the language before I go, and once there, I'm careful.  I've been to 24 countries, having spent probably close to 2 cumulative years abroad without incident.  

I believe it's possible to go-with-the-flow, and still be prepared.  I have a rough idea of where I want to go (and where I'll avoid), but for me, the beauty of travel is being in the moment.  I let the journey unfold as I go, rather than ticking things off a to-do list and rushing around stuck to a schedule.  I have traveled this way for short trips, but for long ones it's just not for me.  I prefer to slow down.  I try to hook into the local pulse, speak to as many locals as I can, get local suggestions on where to go and how to get there, and generally just try to be.  I hate rushing when I travel.  So for this trip, it is important for me that I don't have an itinerary.  I will keep in mind the things that I really want to do, but will let things unfold as I go, letting local recommendations, ideas from fellow travelers and spontaneous opportunities guide my trip.

So now, I find myself at the beginnings of my journey.  I have a year, my first flights, and some semblance of a plan for the next month, and after that?  Who knows!  All I know is that the journey will begin in Lima, Peru, on September 13th.

Adendum:
My mom, ever the editor, pointed out that my earlier draft of this post seemed very judgmental of itinerized travel.  That was not my intention.  Rather, my point is there is a time and place for that style.  In fact, I was remembering a very specific experience I had when I wrote that, and I'll share it with you here.  

I had just finished my travel in Fiji.  I was sun-kissed, awe-inspired, and relaxed after 3 weeks among Fijians, some of the most genuinely nice and friendly people I've had the pleasure of spending time with.  I checked in to a nice little hostel in the capital of Nadi to get ready to fly home.  I was settling in, looking through my bag, when my roommate came in, and we started chatting.  He was an Italian, taking a few months to travel around to a laundry list of countries.  He explained he had just arrived to spend 4 days in Fiji before he was flying somewhere else.  Our whole conversation was wrapped in a very frenetic energy.  Everything he did was fast, unpacking, talking, he was almost jittery!  His whole aura was in such contrast to what I loved about Fiji: a relaxed, warm, chill, welcoming vibe.  It made me sad to think that he was going so fast that he was going to miss out on getting to know that pace.  I know he is an extreme case and not how all itinerized travel is, but it is my experience with him that makes me even more committed to my schedule-less travel.  It probably doesn't work for everyone, but it works for me.

Baños: A Town with Something for Everyone

 

 So in all, I have had 3 days here in Baños.  It's not very much time considering just how much there is to do.  I have had pretty full days, and still feel as though I have barely seen anything.  For anyone thinking of visiting Baños, think of this as an aperitif.  This is just a rough guide to some of the options here, and is in no way comprehensive.

Baños is nestled into a large valley, between a group of mountains and volcanoes.  This geographical fact has kept the town small and quaint.  It is a huge vacation destination for people in and out of Ecuador, keeping prices very reasonable.  Hotels average $8-$15 per night, meals around $3, and all of the special activities are very fair, too.  There really is something for everyone here.  A whole family could come, and easily spend a week, and never get bored.  There's artisan shopping, extreme sports, birding, jungle excursions, relaxation, you name it!
 

So here is how I've been spending my time:

 

Day 3:  Hike to the Virgin
I decided to put this activity out of order, because after seeing these pictures, I think a bit more of Baños will make sense.  For my last day in town, I decided to do a bit of hiking.  I needed to get the blood pumping, and I wanted one last chance to get a bird's eye view.   Since Baños is surrounded by mountains, one has to only choose. 

I decided to climb to the virgin.  That's really all I knew about it, but several locals recommended it to me, when they heard I wanted to draw.  So off I set in my flip flops, not knowing what I was in for.  It turned out to be a reasonable 40 minute hike up a switchback, that was woefully unmarked.  With luck, and following my instincts, I managed to make my way there without incident.  The virgin turned out to be a faded and cracked statue, perched on a cement stand.  She clearly is not the real reason that people make the trek.  As you can see by the photos, the view was well worth the sweat, and dirty toes.

Day 1:  Spa

I arrived here at night, so the next day was spent wandering around and getting the lay of the land.  Once fully acclimated, I decided to treat myself after my tough 10 days in the cloud forest.  Because of it's destination as a premiere travel town, there is a huge culture of spas here.  Just about every street has a storefront publicizing massage or manicure.  So I decided to go for it.  I splurged on the "Exclusive Package," which included 1 hr. massage, facial, manicure and pedicure.  Though it was not the best spa service I have received, it was a very relaxing few hours, and I had the chance to chat quite a bit with the gals helping me.  My bill:  $40.

 

 

Yup, I'm slathered.  Some sort of all natural ingredient that's supposed to make me look lovely.  Is it working yet?

Funnily enough, as the lady was doing my nails, I didn't know what color I was getting.  It wasn't until my mask was scrubbed off that I had the chance to see that it was my favorite!

Day 1, Nighttime:  Chiva

Throughout the day, you can see these loaded trucks driving around town.  They shuttle tourists around to the various mountaintops, winding their way through the narrow, curving streets to the peaks, earning their name: chiva, which means female goat.  Though I opted not to ride this during the day, someone told me about how they do a night tour to see the active volcano nearby.  For $5, I loaded up on a chiva named Titanic, complete with strobe lights and pounding techno music.  Every seat was occupied, totally probably over 30 people, and the wooden structure creaked and groaned as it maneuvered the narrow curves.  

 



When we reached the peak, though, it was an incredible view of Baños.  Though we could see nothing of the volcano, the town streets, illuminated buildings and valley were a lovely sight.

 

 

After getting an explanation of Baños' location, the nearby volcanoes, and the emergency procedures in case of eruption (since the closest volcano, Tungurahua, is still active), we were treated to a local drink, Caneloso, made with juice and sugar cane rum, served hot.  We had time to relax, listen to a comedy show, and but food sold by local residents out of the back of their homes.

 

I opted for a skewer of chicken and plantain, and a roasted ear of corn. Yum

Days 1-3:  Taffy Pulling
Yup.  Every day.  Along the main street, you can find a row of shops, all selling the local favorite: sweets.  There are heart shaped gelatins, candied nuts, and lots and lots of taffy.  The best part, is that the taffy is pulled by hand, right in the storefront, so you can watch the whole process.  It was really interesting to see the sugar start dark and pliable, and as they pulled it more and more, it became lighter and harder.  They kept pulling until it was just right, adding in a colored gelatin to make the swirl, pulling of twists that are wrapped in plastic and packaged for sale.  The flavor most seemed to be making these days has been mandarina, which I didn't care for, but they sell mint, strawberry, chocolate, vanilla, bubble gum, cinnamon, peach and orange.

 

 

Day 2:  The Waterfalls
I have been really missing having my bike, so I was excited when I had to chance to rent a mountain bike (only $5 a day), and make the 32km loop to see the many waterfalls spilling from the mountaintops.  Most of them go right into a river to the side of the road, and a few even spill onto the road itself!  This was easily one of my favorite activities here, or was, at least, until my tire was punctured by a shard of glass!  :(  Despite that, it was great the be moving again under my own power, and to get to enjoy the magical setting of this town, nestled right into a series of valleys.

 

 
Day 2:  Parapente (Paragliding)
I have always wanted to take the skies, without the use of jet fuel.  Hang-gliding, parasailing, paragliding, have all help interest for me.  Baños turned out to be the perfect place for this.  For $60, you get a lesson and a 20 minute flight over the valley, where I finally got my view of Tungurahua. We spent the whole afternoon on the hillside, enjoying the view and waiting for our turn.  It proved to be well worth the wait.  I was so amazed at how smoothly you float.  Before I knew it we were in the air, looking down on mountains, grazing cows, people tilling their land, and all the rest.  My "guide," Edgar is one of the only certified paragliders in town.  He was patient, careful, and very talented.  He made it a breeze, and I can't recommend him enough if anyone is thinking of gliding here.

Fun Fact:  Oddly enough, the only other American in our group, Juliana, is a fellow Carleton grad, living and teaching in California.  Small world. 

Just me, floating....

By the end of the afternoon, we were able to watch the sunset over the town, washing the clouds with color.  Even the wind favored us, blowing the clouds away a bit from the surrounding volcanoes, giving us a spectacular view of the peaks.  It turned out to be an incredible day, and well worth the time and money spent.

So my time in Baños has come to an end.  In a few short hours I will be catching a long overnight bus ride up north to meet my outing into the Amazon.  I am energized by all that I have had the chance to do here, but saddened to know that I have barely scratched the surface!  There are natural baths, canyoning and whitewater rafting tours, horseback riding (which I can never do again, but regardless), bungee jumping, and tons of options for folks who like to go out at night.

These were 3 days, very worth the trip!

Eco-tourism at its Best: Santa Lucia, Ecuador

For years now I have been traveling “ecotouristically” (that should be a word if it isn't).  With increasing pressures placed on the natural environment, I look for organizations that utilize natural wonders to attract tourists, and are therefore invested in protecting them.  Whenever possible, I try to find programs that are local.  By that, I mean that the organization was founded and is run by people from that country. When an organization or program is based internationally, programs cost more and all that money is then taken out of the country.  When it is local, any money you pay for the program is given back to the community to support the economy, providing jobs, and increasing the sense of ownership over natural resources by the local people.

I have participated in at least half a dozen programs by now, so I am starting to get a pretty good sense of how it works.  That being said, I just got back from the best model of ecotourism that I have seen so far.   I wanted to share a little bit about how their model works, in the hopes that you might either: have other models that you would like to share, be inspired to visit this place yourself, or that perhaps the right person reads this and the idea could start to create similar models elsewhere.

To start with, the program I would like to applaud is called Santa Lucia, which is a land cooperative, protecting 1800 acres of cloud forest in the Ecuadorian Andes.  Although their vision and mission have changed since then, the group started back in 1976, when a new reform act made land purchase more affordable to local people.  A group of 20 families pooled their resources and purchased what is now Santa Lucia. 

 

 

Over the years a variety of business options have been tried, including banana plantations, cattle farming, and medicinal remedies, finally settling on ecotourism in the 1990s.  The reserve has built a variety of accommodations (dormitories, private rooms and cabanas), playing host to tourists, volunteers, birders, outdoor enthusiasts, and people who are generally just looking "to get away from it all." 

It is probably here that I should elaborate....  in Santa Lucia, you are literally away from it all.  The nearest town is a 30 minute drive and an hour hike away.  There is a lovely main lodge, but the only way to get to it is to climb up.  1900 meters to be exact (Americans: that means roughly 5700 feet).  In order to preserve the pristine quality of the reserve, no roads lead to the lodge, only a series of trails.  It's a hike that the locals do (taking the steeper mule trail) in about a half an hour, but most of us visitors huffed and puffed our way up between 1-2 hours. 

Sendero Principal= Main Trail
 

An average trail.  Steep climbs, and light topsoil covering slippery clay underneath (as a nice brown bruise on my right forearm will prove)

I was surprised that I managed to make it up in just over an hour, though as the air got thinner and the trails got steeper, my breaks  and my nagging suspicion that I might breathe myself into oblivion got more frequent.  About 40 minutes in I had to start rooting for myself like a high-school basketball coach.  It worked.  I made it.  And this was the view I was rewarded with.

 
 

The vision of the cooperative is: “To run a well-organized ecotourism business that creates jobs and benefits for the community and which respects that values of the members of the cooperative and the community, permitting us to conserve the forest for the future."   This comes through loud and clear.  It is a warm, welcoming and interesting place to be.

In addition to the main lodge, on the property there is also a front porch area for relaxing,

The cozy front porch.  These hammocks were a favorite by the volunteers after a long day hiking.



private cabanas,

 

Our cabana:  Cabana de la Puma

an organic garden which supplies most of the veggies and herbs used by the kitchen,

Organic garden with cabbage, carrots, radishes, broccoli raab, lemongrass, mint, lettuce, spinach, and more!



outdoor showers and composting toilets. 

The composting toilets, urinals and outdoor showers.

My favorite shower was the corner one, because you had only two walls, and the rest is clouds.

As a guest of lodge, you get the chance to be remote, ensconced in an absolutely picturesque place, surrounded by “400 species of birds; 45 species of mammals including pumas and the endangered Spectacled Bear; and thousands of tropical plants, native to the region, including an amazing variety of orchids, bromeliads, and other epiphytes.”   Local guides can take you to see the bird and plant species, walk you to the waterfalls, and explain the history of the project. 

My time at the lodge was spent volunteering on a number of conservation initiatives they have there, which I will go into in later blog posts.  When we weren't working, the days are very quiet, without electricity internet or phone to get in the way.  Time is passed studying local species guides, playing cards, laughing, using candles once the sun sets.  It was serene and refreshing.

Me and my colleagues studying birds to help with bird identifications the next day.

 

We had a big family-style dinner on the last night, which was a great send off.

 
One of my favorite parts of the Santa Lucia Lodge was getting to know the people that worked there.  The whole reserve runs with only about 10 active workers.  There is a maintenance man, a housekeeper, administration, 3 lovely young ladies in the kitchen that pump out hearty and healthy meals three times a day, and guides and naturalists to help you know what you are looking at as you go exploring.  I was impressed with their dedication to this project.  The pressures on this ecosystem continue to increase, and maintain a place a remote as this takes a lot of hard work.

Guests pitching in to help get dinner on the table.

One of our favorite dinners from our stay at the lodge: stewed chicken, green beans, marinated cooked carrots and yucca patties with an herb sauce.  Yum!



Our favorite breakfast!  So much so that we asked for it again on our last day.  The main element is the banana leaf in the middle.  Kimbolitas.  They are individual little cakes wrapped in banana leaves and steamed.   

As our send off, some of the collaborative members played some Ecuadorian music for us, filling the lodge with energy, laughter and dancing.

 

All the people in residence during my stay at the lodge.  This includes the staff, 9 volunteers, 3 workers from another reserve who came to learn about Santa Lucia's model of ecotourism, and 2 field researchers conducting PhD research on hummingbird behavior.
 
 

Given the remoteness of the lodge, most workers stay on site, and others hike up and down every day.  Not only must the workers come and go, but so must all materials.  All the materials used to build, all the wood, the doors, the cement, all had to be carried either by hand or on muleback.  Delicate things like windows and glassware, as well as the heaviest items like the generator, had to be carried by people (the generator apparently took ten men all day to carry up to the site).  This continued commitment to their vision, for me, is what makes the difference at Santa Lucia.   Though there are lots of things they could do to make life easier or to make their lodge have more mass-market appeal, but no option is considered without weighing the costs.  Having a road to the top would be much easier, and would make bringing goods a simpler and faster task.  But at the cost of air quality, noise pollution and further forestation.  Not to mention the general sense of escape that would be lost if one can just come and go so easily. 

 

On our first night, the manager greeted us by saying "Welcome to Paradise."  Now after my sweaty and breath-deprived hike, I laughed a bit at the thought... but by the next morning, as I watched that night's clouds lifts and slide away, I realized I agreed with him.  This really was an idealistic place to spend a week.

But models like this are certainly not without their problems either.  As times continue to change, the cooperative is having a harder time keeping members.  Nowadays, a rugged hike up a mountain to work is not an attractive option.  From the original 20 founding families who invested in the purchase of land, only 12 members remain to carry on the vision.  Surrounding plots of land continue to be cleared, and hunters and loggers poach into the reserve grounds as the government has yet to invest in patrolling of protected forests.  But the remaining members are going strong.  They concentrate on the  continuous stream of happy guests passing through, the increasing spread of ecotourism, albeit slowly, and gains being made daily in the gathering of vital scientific data to further conservation efforts.

I keep those last positive things in mind the strongest.  For me, the Santa Lucia Reserve was a little slice of tranquility.  I have nothing but faith in the collaborative, and in their continued commitment to protecting what is one of the most ecologically significant ecosystems in the world.  And even if you are not a total nature nut like me, you have to admit that at the very least, it is absolutely gorgeous! 

 

 

 

 
 

 

 

Some of my favorite memories were of watching the changing views from our little oasis, seeing the clouds come and go, and the mist rise and fall.  I awoke to birds outside my window, and fell asleep to the sounds of crickets and frogs.  I could have happily passed two weeks at the lodge, drawing, painting, bird watching, reading, talking, laughing, and soaking it all in.  I hope you get the chance to see it for yourself!