We decided to take one of the mini vans that leave every hour from Loja for the four hour ride to Cuenca. $12 each and the dog was free. Taking the dog was cheaper than boarding him and the hotel was pet friendly. We had booked a nice 5 star hotel, right in the center of the city for $50 a night, with breakfast
At 7 am
the next morning Sharon set off for her first appointment. I already had the
final document she needed so I didn’t have to go. She was accompanied by our
agent, Santiago who has been guiding us through this whole visa process. Be
advised that it is more than worth the money to have an agent as the process is
complicated enough without struggling with your rudimentary Spanish. (More on
that later). Anyway, that went well and they were back by 11am and we all
headed out to actually get the cedulas. The Central Registry office was a zoo,
with people lined up out the door, but thankfully, everyone here wears a mask,
everywhere! Eventually around 3pm we got to the head of the line, got
fingerprinted, photographs taken, and then went to sit and wait for the cards.
After about 45min my card showed up at the window but not Sharon’s. Out of an
abundance of caution because of Covid and crowded spaces I went outside to
wait. Sharon then proceeded to have all sorts of problems, had to go back and
have the whole thing done again and it was almost 6pm before it was all
satisfactory and we could leave. Oh well, that’s life in South America, learn
patience. Could have been much worse. Then a nice dinner at the hotel and
early to bed.
Next morning the
cab comes to pick us up at 10:30 for the 11am mini bus back to Loja and we are
the only passengers with two drivers! How nice is that! Off we go and
before long it’s raining Gatos y Perros. After 3 hours we get to some stopped
traffic and discover that the road has been overrun by a mudslide. After much
discussion in our broken Spanish we understand we have two choices. Return to
Cuenca, (3 hrs and another night in a hotel) or walk with the spare driver past
the mudslide. He has called ahead and there will be a cab waiting for us on the
other side to drive us on to Loja. After some more discussion we opt for the
latter and set out. The mini bus heads back to Cuenca.
After wading through mud and rushing water up to our knees (remember the Gatos y Perros?) we get to the other side only to discover that not only do we have to hike 4 more kilometers but there are more mudslides before we get to where the cab is. And much of it is uphill. And it continues to rain, and before long it will be dark! Lesson learned at this point? Keep up with the Spanish classes so you know what’s Really going on! Great advice, but the mini bus is gone, along with our options. I turn my head so no one will see me crying, and we head off.
Man, it was awful. Raining, mud, wet wife, wet dog, soon angry wife and resigned dog. I start slowly handing stuff I’m carrying to Sharon until she begins to look like my bearer. Hey, she’s twenty years younger than me, there has to be some advantages to being old! I’m positive it was more like six km, and after 4 hours of walking and mudslides where we wade through quicksand like mud, desperately holding on to each other in order not to be swept away, we arrive in the little town of Santiago where the cab is. The main street is a foot deep in mud, water, rocks, and logs with traffic backed up for miles. But there’s our cab, a splendid looking chariot if I ever saw one! When we get in I really should care that the back of the cab is getting caked in mud and water from us and the dog, but I don’t. Not I my friend. Too exhausted.
We get home at eight. What should have been a 4 hour ride was 9 hours in total. I just turned on the hot water in the shower and walked in with my clothes on, dragging the dog in with me. For awhile I thought all the mud would clog the drain, but shortly I am on my face, on the bed, out cold. Went for a short walk this morning but for the next few days the dog and I will be staying close to home. He’s just lying there, occasionally looking at up me as if to say “What the ….. was that??!” Anyway, all the above is by way of saying, this living in an exotic, foreign country is not all sun and roses. Occasionally you have to pay. But that’s true everywhere I suspect. Next time I will go back! Turns out I’m a hotel bar kind of guy. Who knew? Intrepid is gone. Hello to sitting in a comfortable chair with a cool drink at hand, waiting for young folk to come up to me looking for wisdom. First piece of advice… don’t be a hero, take the bus back to the hotel.
