Monday 5 February to Thursday 8 February 2007
Saltaire in England to Cuenca in Ecuador
It’s evening on Thursday the 8th, and we’re parked inside the Autec Merc garage in
In the end, common sense prevailed and absent bossman Ivan declared it an exception, so here we are.
Our visit here was not occasioned by major van problems, but rather it seemed a sensible precaution following a 5 month lay-up that we should have the thing checked big time. And we did need that new seat belt fitting etc etc.
But now I’ll turn the clock back 4 days.
We left Saltaire at 05.20 (UK time) on Monday after less than 6 hours sleep and spent the next 24 hours travelling from Manchester to Madrid by Iberia/BA, and Madrid to Bogota and then Bogota to Quito by Avianca. This mind-numbingly awful journey should be reserved for masochists. Whoever thinks air travel –and especially long-haul - is the height of luxury needs their head looking at.
But there were some highlights:
- the arrival at
-
- whilst we were at the Avianca check-in we had a small panic. To get into
We arrived in Quito at 22.50 (Ecuadorian time) and took a taxi to the Hostal Jardin del Sol, described on the Lonely Planet website as close to the airport. Not.
What followed was not a happy experience despite the receptionist being efficient and helpful, and the room being ok for the price (c $US30 for a double room with en suite. Early the next morning, I had been parted from several valuable belongings. This is what I wrote to insurance company a day or so later[2]:
On 6 2 07, I lost my camera bag [value £25] which contained the following
- Canon camera and accessories (12 rechargeable batteries, 2 memory cards) [£300]
- Wallet [£8] containing $US400 [£200], a Visa credit card and a Nationwide debit card
- 2 sets of keys for flat and motorhome [£40].
The loss occurred in
We arrived at the Hostal at 23.30 on 5 February and checked in, paying the balance on our room in $US from the wallet. This was the last time I can positively remember having the bag.
After this, we moved our large cases to a secure area before going to our room. Soon after occupying it, the receptionist came to tell us we were moving to another room, so we collected our possessions and did so.
We locked the door and went straight to bed, having been travelling for 24 hours and being very tired. We got up at 05.30 and at 5.45 went down stairs to get a taxi to the airport for our next flight.
At this stage, I realised I did not have my bag and 3 people including myself searched all the places we had been but did not find it.
At 6.05 we left the Hostal for the airport and flew to
I do not know if the bag was stolen. However, the circumstances do suggest that it may have been taken as the bag should have been easily found in this very circumscribed location if it had simply been mislaid.
The flight from
By 08.30, we were back home, at Cabanas Yanuncay and greeting our fine hosts, Humberto and Maria. The vans were still on the chocks on to which we’d (well Humberto actually) placed them almost exactly 5 months ago.
We were, of course, totally tired AND there was catching up to be done, but between 10 and 11, Humberto set to work with my help to lower the pair of Mercs to the ground. No mean feat on H’s part: he’s still recovering from a broken shoulder sustained 24 December!
The Brook van down and along to the grassy field just 50m away, we set to on MM’s vehicle. It was the last act of this procedure that led to disaster. As Humberto lowered the rear axle, the van moved forward a metre plus[4] and in doing so the transmission ran over H’s arm which was placed across his chest. The awful wailing of an injured animal emanated from below the van. MM and me tried to push the van back but could not move it, but as it happened H was not trapped. He dragged himself out from under and lay on his front making pitiful noises that betokened considerable pain.
In the next 30 minutes or more, we set up shade from the blistering midday sun for H, insisted he did not move (“I watch a lot of ‘Casualty’” said MM to a baffled family posse), and an ambulance arrived. The patient was neck-braced, strapped into a board sandwich and whisked away.
During the afternoon, unpacking began alongside discussion about H, and an ominous message came through from the patient himself: “Do you have insurance?”. We decided to visit H and all was arranged – and in the end, the insurance query was set aside and, together with the family, we said we’d like to make a contribution to the cost of the treatment.
When we saw H in hospital, he was much better than expected. No broken bones, but severe bruising – and later it was discovered, some bleeding in one lung. Nothing life-threatening thank goodness. By late morning on the following day (the 8th), H was home (“Hospital is expensive”) and in good-ish spirits.
The incident did not appear to phase Maria, who duly cooked us lunch soon afterwards (chard soup cooked with fresh greens from the garden – very good) and entertained us to dinner in the evening. Very useful, as we had enough on our hands with the unpacking. We had Maria’s dinner again the following evening too by which time the decanting of the cases was complete (more or less).
Maria was also helpful in calling the Autec Merc garage and I arranged with them that we’d take the vans in primera hora on the following day, Thursday. So, after a further, lengthy session in bed which was just as useless in sleep terms as the previous two, we got ourselves up at 06.00 and left for the northern side of
We’ve visited these folks before: it’s a good garage, big with lots of really keen and pleasant staff. There’s never a moment when the vehicle is not being actively worked on and they’ll turn their hand to anything, including putting new runners on our external drawer and sticking brackets on MM’s van (they’ll hold window security bars). When the seat belt bought from the
At lunchtime, we decided to go out for a meal and ended up going into town to the Villa Rosa. When we were in
Back at the garage: by day’s end, much progress had been made but with some jobs still to be done. As reported earlier, staying over was essential as our van was immobile. It’s probably no bad thing that we’re undercover. The early evening rain is fearsome: the drumming on the tin roof testifies to that.
Friday 9 and Saturday 10 February
Cuenca
I’ve contracted a cold but the symptoms have not been too bad until today, Friday. I spend all morning lounging on the bed and for much of the time, I’m asleep. But I’m medicated by Margaret and the result is that I feel ok during the rest of the day.
Work progresses on the van. Some things go well (the external drawer runners take some installing, but work a treat) and some less well (our external reversing camera is dismantled and the lens cleaned, but the result is an even worse image on the monitor). The front axle leaves the workshop for specialist attention and bossman Ivan tells me it will cost c$300 to repair. The problem is play on the steering. We are re-assured that all will be completed by the end of the working day – and so it turns out. The axle does not return until 17.30ish but the lads crack on and install it, the front brakes and the wheels before 19.00.
We ask if we can stay over, this time outside, and our wish is granted… which means we can cook a beef stew (not our best) and after 20.00, we eat it in MM’s van.
It takes some time to get away on the Saturday. The bill ($630) has to be paid and the lady in the caja doesn’t appear till 08.45. We also do some research on suppliers of bodywork shops and CCTV cameras and get a hot lead on the latter.
Next stop, ‘home’. We have to pick up some metal bits for our proposed roof rack and insodoing, bump into the invalid Humberto. He’s become an inveterate walker as a result of the accident: he finds it much more comfortable to be upright. He’s still in pain of course, and the blood on his lung has not cleared. But he’s in reasonable spirits.
We drive the 2km or so to our metalwork shop, the one we used with great success in September. El jefe is not around, but the estimable Sr Welder is. We leave some bits to be re-painted and agree to return on Monday afternoon to progress the construction of the roof rack.
MM goes off to the Mall del
The encounter takes a turn for the worse – but you have to laugh! – when our man decide to take out the cloudy lens from the lens assembly which is a small cylinder of roughly 4x1cms. Having unscrewed the lens cap and exposed the offending item, our friend turns the cylinder upside down to tap it so the lens will fall out into his hand. This it does, along with the other contents of the cylinder. And they have to be seen to be believed. There are at least 4 other lenses together with an appropriate number of separators, and they come out in a jumbled heap. Worse, the main lens is c1cm in diameter, but the rest of the stuff is no more than 5mm! In effect, the cylinder is a mini-telescope, and re-assembling it looks like a job too far.
Our man faces up to the inevitable and for once we understand his plan. He’s going to take the lot to an optica who will be able to re-make the telescope and, presumably, polish up or replace the main, opaque lens. We agree to return on Tuesday for the result, but the way things are going, it looks as if getting the unit sent from the
We get to the Mall well after 12.00 and have lunch. During the second half of the morning, I was starting to feel rough. Now, I feel dog rough and after lunch I take to my bed whilst Margaret and MM go shopping. MM also wants to try out the free wi-fi internet in the Mall and Margaret reports later that it works a treat.
We drive back ‘home’ in the late afternoon. I take the wheel but it’s a real effort, and when we park up, Margaret has to be the toilet dumper and spends the rest of the evening on nursing duties.
It’s just after 20.30 when we go to bed. The first half of the night is disturbed by random fireworks (bangers mainly) going off. We’ve heard these on other nights, but tonight, they within 100m of us. I’ve no idea what their significance is: I’ll have to ask[5].
Sunday 11 and Monday 12 February
Cuenca
Given my condition, the day of rest came as a bonus. After a morning at ‘home’, MM rustled up a nice chicken curry which was accompanied by a fine bottle of Nanni Malbec (from
We waltzed off to the Mall del
My evening continued to be miserable and we got to bed early.
… Another 10 hours in bed to add to the oodles of other hours spent prone over the last few days, and I wake to further bad news. Margaret has the cold, and so has MM. Both feel awful, and both look awful. MM is haggard: Margaret’s eye corners a dreadfully bloodshot.
Despite all this, we take in the laundry that was bundled up last night and then head off to the Mall where I hope to emulate MM’s success of yesterday with the wi-fi connection. No chance, and although MM connects, she keeps losing the link.
Meanwhile, Margaret lies prone in the van. But there is good news: I am a little more lively, and even manage to do a minor job or two on the van roof.
We’re not up to making anything to eat however (and even if we made it, we wouldn’t be able to do it justice), so we retire to the Mall’s food court much to my horror. We end up eating KFC which I would never have chosen - but having done so, will never choose it again. Perhaps the most striking aspect of the ‘meal’ appears when we have finished. The detritus on our table – 3 large sheets of paper that cover the trays, 3 chicken boxes, 3 Pepsi drinks containers, a plastic salad box, several condiments’ wrappers, 2 plastic drinks bottles… - is mega. Please forgive us, oh Planet Earth, for we know not what we do.
We’ve been killing time at the Mall because our appointment with our roof rack maker is not till the afternoon. We get to see him around 13.45 and make some progress both with our job and MM’s window grilles. We then muck around for the rest of the afternoon, picking up the laundry and making an internet visit being the only positive actions. Margaret continues in prone mode, and feels deeply miserable.
Soon after 18.00, we get back to Cabanas Yanuncay. Having a roll and cheese is the sum total of our culinary ambition, and our largely uninterested stomachs approve of such a modest repast. M’s in bed soon after 20.00. I tap away at this diary, and follow an hour later.
Tuesday 13 February
Cuenca
Despite being noticeably better yesterday, I still feel quite significantly under the weather today, and MM who only succumbed yesterday, is in a terrible state today.
Which makes Margaret’s story astonishing. She is almost fully recovered after just one night’s sleep.
MM consigns herself to bed so Margaret and I do much toing and froing in the morning, to the metal bashers, to the food shop, and to the CCTV shop. The product is not great, but there is one significant development. After investing so much time in the roof rack, I decided to abandon the project and ask MM to store our security screen in her shed. I’ve just become very concerned about whether it will work, what effect it will have on the already overloaded and rust-prone roof, and the time it will take to do.
By lunchtime, we’re back ‘home’ and consult MM about her condition. She wants to see a doctor, so this is arranged with Margaret accompanying her. They go off by taxi to the Clinica Santa Ana where Humberto was treated a few days ago. The outcome is that she’s put on oxygen and a drip and kept in overnight for observation. It’s unclear what the problem is, but she’s in some difficulty, has a temperature and is put on antibiotics.
I spend the afternoon prone. This bug-cum-condition really makes you listless and unable to spur yourself to any activity whatsoever. This is not me: not me at all.
I finally drag myself up to do some cooking and make a scratch cauli cheese. Margaret re-appears from caring duties as I’m well on with it. The rest of the evening is spent in repose or eating the dish of the day, and we take to the early bed.
Wednesday 14 February
Cuenca
We go to the Clinica by taxi soon after 09.00 and spend the best part of 2 hours there. MM’s much improved, the hospital is fine, and we have a good yap, but the reason for staying so long is that Dr Santiago does not appear till 10.45 and we want to know what he has to say so we can plan. The verdict is positive, but the consensus is that MM’s probably better staying in for another night.
En route home, we do some shopping at the excellent SuperMaxi supermarket (well, it is excellent till you get to the terribly few checkouts with vast queues).
Lunch and then on to the same old merry-go-round we’re on most days – the metalwork shop, the reversing camera man, the internet. There’s progress at the first and we pick up MM’s window-baffles (a security measure for use on the ro-ro in March). At the second, it appears the opticas cannot assist in getting the lens right… but our man will try if we accept responsibility. We do, but I have little confidence he can re-assemble the entire tiny cylinder that he comprehensively dismembered a few days ago.
The internet brings another disturbing email from our March shippers. The woman who’s subbing for our regular correspondent Ana has written regarding our February booking! (Ana sent a similarly confused mail a few days ago to which I replied – and I later checked my emails which showed no fewer that 3 to Ana referring to a March booking).
But great news from Australia to put a smile on the Brooks’ faces: the much-maligned England cricket team have, in the face of all the odds, won the one-day series!!
We go to see MM again to take her various bits and bobs, and agree when we’ll pick her up tomorrow. She’s in good heart having found a healthy diet of English films and documentaries on the cable TV in her room!
Back at the vans, I discover I must be getting a little better. I’m sufficiently lively to test out all of MM’s window-baffles and mark them up for the final drillings. Then into the kitchen where I cook salmon, cauli and mushrooms… and we were to have had potatoes, but the small tubers that we bought this morning were of the bullet variety about which we’d been told many moons ago. Despite their size, they need 30 minutes boiling, so they were just about ready as we moved on to the raspberries.
The early bed looms once more.
Thursday 15 February
Cuenca
There’s little to be said about another domestic and somewhat dismal day (not the weather: that was wonderfully sunny), but we did achieve a resolution on three outstanding issues:
1 MM emerged from hospital in the morning. The doctor proclaimed her mejor for the second day running, but she is far from fit even if she is on the mend. She has little energy and needs assistance to look after herself. She’s on a triple prescription of antibiotics, vitamins and cough medicine:
2 the metalwork saga is over. We have all the bits we need for MM’s and our windows, and we’ve paid the princely bill of $35 the lot;
3 in the late afternoon, after yet another trip to the Mall (this time to buy Margaret a replacement Sony Walkman… essential for those talking books that have become a staple of her existence), we finally found a lavado for the van. In the rest of S America, you can’t move for folks wanting to wash your vehicle, but it’s a pig to find a carwash in
Beyond that, the highlight of the day was the arrival of a pig on site. It’s a stroppy, solid youngster that came on the back of a pickup and judging by the to-do, it’s the extended family’s weekend BBQ. There’s a suggestion that this (long, 4 day) weekend in
We shall be around for it. There’s no way that this health-challenged threesome are moving for some days yet. I really wish we could, but it’s a pipe-dream.
Saturday 17 February
Cuenca
Well, it does look as if it is carnival time. The proof? Yesterday, as we turned into our road – the wonderfully-named Calle Canton Gualaceo – our newly-washed, and dried, van was attacked by water-bombers. It transpires that this activity is carnival-related. However, the norm is to be personally water-bombed, ie to be subjected to aquatic attack and to come out of it soaked.
Fortunately, in the quiet grounds of Cabanas Yanuncay, one is safe, and this morning, a man can get on with jobs around the van, specifically addressing some worryingly rusty seams on the roof. Now a house with a leaking roof is NOT a good idea, but the work left me optimistic that the problem was not that serious. The rust was no more than superficial and a bit of sanding and the judicious application of silicone left me feeling decidedly happy.
After a lengthy chat with the every-improving MM, we decided to take our first trip into town during this
We walk a block or two to get a taxi and as we do so, follow a group of a dozen young folks, all carnivalled up in huge gossamer wings and other lightweight costumes operated by lengthy rods attached to different bits of their anatomies. The march is accompanied by regular and pleasing percussion.
Back home, we make and eat lunch. It’s raining by the time we finish. There’s no usual daily weather pattern in Cuenca (other than that you are likely to see both sun and rain most days) but it’s quite common for very early cloud to be followed by sun to be followed by showers or even heavier rain… and then, by late afternoon/evening, the rain might well be long gone.
The rain persuades us not to venture out too soon, but we have some weekend shopping to do (especially as we are catering for 3), and we have yet to make the morning (!) appointment to see our reversing camera man.
Part of the reason for not going to see him in the morning is that he’s often not around when you’ve agreed – and I really don’t want to face the disappointment of him failing yet again to deliver us a result. However, he’s actually in and blabbers on about something or other which leads me to offer to come back later after our shopping. This seems to be well received.
At 15.30, more blabber, and I think I gather that he’s cannibalised a lens from a second-hand camera and has fitted it into our camera body. During the next hour or two, it becomes clearer what he has actually done. He has taken not just a lens but the entire telescopic cylinder from a new CCTV camera, and plans to install it in ours. The initial test of the unit is positive, indeed way, way beyond expectations.
But it takes some time and effort amid the remnants of the rain to conclude the installation of the lens unit in the body and then on to the van.
The result is, however, nothing less than spectacular! We have a fully-functioning reversing camera with a lovely clear picture!! We are chuffed to bits, and the lot only costs us $80 ($50 for the donor camera and the rest for labour). Profuse thanks all round.
We return to the Cabanas on a high. I install one of our 2 remaining protective grilles (this one inside the roof light housing) and then get down to cooking dinner. Margaret has earlier worked like a Trojan to pack away all the shopping and, remarkably, cooked up stewed plums whilst the camera was being fitted, so my task, to cook a few veg to go with a cooked chicken, is simplicity itself. MM joins us for the feast.
After dinner I do some reading! Not my usual scene, but one of the purchases this morning is the fourth book in The No1 Ladies Detective Agency series and having picked it up as the rain beat down earlier in the afternoon, I’m hooked, and, by the time it’s lights out, I’ve read the lot.
Despite the Brook van being plunged into darkness, life outside went on. Humberto has been to see us at about 18.00. Tonight, there’s to be a ‘do’ in the open lean-to-cum-garage that sits between 2 of the houses on site (at about 25m from our side wall). He says it will be noisy and we can pull up towards his house (some 150m away of we want). We don’t bother. The party doesn’t start till 22.30 and is over by 02.00 in the morning. The work that had been put into setting up the lean-to-cum-garage during the last couple of days suggested this was going to be pig roast time, but not a bit of it. The pig remains alive and well and living under a nearby tree.
This was always going to be a non-day. MM remains weak and I can’t see any way we’ll be off before Monday – and that’s optimistic. Margaret and I are in reasonable order but we’re coughing for
We stay in bed until late. The party did not ruin our sleeps, but it did give it a knock. Mid-morning, I walk (that suggests my condition is much improved) down Avenida Loja to the internet shop and the ferreteria for the rest of MM’s window security locks. (I bought two test locks yesterday and they worked well).
Then, before lunch (a negligible bite in my case: I’m really not interested in lunches at the mo), I install the final (rear door window) security grille to our van. We’ll see in a month’s time whether this pile of metal keeps out those thieves on the ro-ro.
There really is nothing to do in the afternoon. We lounge around. I keep thinking of bits to do to fill in the time and end up doing some prep for dinner. It’s (sort of) Spanish Omelette tonight and after more killing time, MM comes to join us and we eat just before 19.00,
When she leaves after 20.00. we’re straight to bed. The tiredness/lack of energy just carries on and on.
Sunday 18 February
Cuenca
The sun comes out early and gives us the benefit of maximum solar power for almost the entire day.
After a relatively busy first half of the morning doing such exciting things as sorting out our spare keys, relocating stuff within our two safes (as now, we only have one key for one of them), and making up my breakfast muesli, I force myself our for a walk along the Yanuncay.
The river is small, rocky and bouncy, and bounded by tall eucalypts which bend beautifully in the light, cool breeze that is a feature of Cuencan weather. The banks and the river itself are always well used, partly because various leisure facilities have been parked here – swings, football pitches… But it’s also a working river. There’s a largish, daily laundry near one of the bridges. Today, it’s smaller, but a family have also set up some 400m downstream. In addition, several families are out with a ball and/or a picnic, and getting soaked in the stream (clothes and all) seems an essential part of having fun here, and particularly now: it appears to be a feature of the Cuencan carnival. Later, the large group having lunch at the house immediately opposite us end their afternoon’s entertainment by chucking water at one another, adults included.
I don’t see a lot of birdlife on the river – an almost entirely salmon-coloured bird (unidentified) is the highlight.
Lunch is followed by Brook shower time… which rather puts the kybosh on the planned late afternoon activity – putting our security ‘gates’ into MM’s ‘shed’, a job that will be pretty time–consuming, but more importantly, will be mucky. So Margaret vetoes it.
I while away hours whilst Margaret continues watching the entire BBC production of Bleak House, a big hit whilst we were away in Sam first time round. By 17.00, I’m up (reluctantly but determinedly) for seeing the big, bad Humberto about our bill. H surprises me because he appears to have some kind of system for totting up the charges and after some minutes, presents me with a bill for c$450. This includes a separate, November auto-electrician’s bill for $135 for work on our batteries (extortionate, and in December he’d emailed me to say I owed him $30 for this), but he hasn’t charged us for extra storage – we came back 3 weeks later than planned.
And of course, I reminded him, you owe me $200, the money I gave you to get my sills done but which was not expended on this… Oh yes, he says, that’s for the extra storage! So the bill is really for $650.
We call MM round for a pre-dinner confab and all agree that it’s too much, but that we will pay as we want a quiet life. However, we will tell him that Lonely Planet, the Cuenca Tourist Board etc etc will hear about this. As our discussion progresses before, over and after a good salmon dinner, our stance changes and we agree to go for a reduction.
The earlyish bed again.
Monday 19 February
Cuenca
We’re all set for the early visit to the laundry and leaving
Back at Cabanas Yanuncay, we break the bad news to MM whose washing was also to be done, and then, just before 09.00, witness the first of the final minutes of that pig. It will be this afternoon’s carnival feast. Led to the slaughter by Humberto’s brother (who lives off site), it is trussed up and despatched after much squealing by a young slick-haired man who we’ve never seen before. The knife goes in under the beast, behind the front right leg.
In the next 90 minutes, several men cart the carcase to the open sink which generally houses the clothes and dish washing. There it is bled and eviscerated before being lifted back the 30m to that lean-to-cum-garage that was done out for Friday’s party, and is still done out for the pig roast. Lifted on to a small A-frame, The pig looks out at us in all its glory, though life, and its entire innards, have all departed. Then the flaming begins, powered by a large flame-thrower fuelled by a big gas bottle. Many men take duties over the next hour or more, but we do not see the next stage, when the beast is barbequed from below.
We keep an eye on all this as we do that job that should have been done yesterday – we unpack MM’s ‘shed’ and re-pack it with our security gates underneath the assorted boxes/genny/hosepipe/suitcase…
After having a cuppa and then filling with water and dumping the loos. we pull out on to the road. Our next move is to confront Humberto, and we think being out of the compound makes sense!
In reality, the meeting with him does not come to fisticuffs. After some vigorous debate, he makes an abject surrender with the words “Pay me what you like!” and “I don’t want this: I want my life to be tranquillo”. So we do pay him what we like – less than he wanted, much more than I thought reasonable, but sufficient for him not to be humiliated. He didn’t even check the money, wandering off as we counted it out as if in some grand strop. But when we left the house after him, he walked with us to the vans and recovered his bonhomie within seconds, plying us with advice for the run north.
That will not start for another hour. We drive round the houses (and through innumerable aqua assaults) to the SuperMaxi on Avenida Las Americas and top up with essentials first. It’s very shortly after midday when we begin the great circumnavigation of
Free at last!! It feels wonderful!!!!
[This day will be completed in the next diary].
[1] MM= Maureen Middleton, our travelling companion.
[3] The lady I spoke to at Sentinel wanted to know which country
[4] The handbrake and the gears had not been engaged after the lay-up!
[5] It took over a week, but I finally asked Humberto. The bangs were indeed produced by fireworks which are widely manufactured and used for carnival. Carnival takes place in just over a week’s time.
