The jungle is the furthest place from where I could be right now. As it turns out I would much rather be running about with a camera chasing butterflies and bugs than sifting through the MOUNTAINS of footage I have from my trip. I was not cut out to be an editor, anymore than I am cut out to be at all productive in a quarantine event.
But getting lost down the rabbit hole of footage from days gone by does at least mean that I want to share my adventures with you. I’m trying to edit a vlog-like slideshow of my photos. I took a lot more photos than videos, but I’ll know for next time that they’re more fun to edit.
Anywho, onwards and upwards. We’ve got a lot of ground to cover…
Getting to rainforest HQ was a MISSION and a half. Luckily, I decided to break up the journey because that first 4-hour bus journey in Ecuador nearly drove me insane… and the huge guy asleep on my shoulder for most of the journey nearly crushed me. Trust me, after 2 flights and navigating the world’s craziest bus station, it was the last thing I needed.
I began my journey of epic proportions late on a Friday evening. It was the 10th January and I had at least a night and full day of travelling ahead of me. For my first solo trip, it seemed rather ambitious in hindsight, I wasn’t worried about returning to my beloved South American continent. I love a good journey. My childhood was punctuated by summer holidays crammed in the car and off to the continent on day long drives to warmer climes.
Why was I travelling to the other side of the world by myself? The short answer is to drag a ridiculous amount of kit to the rainforest to film. After that I planned to make the most of opportunity and manoeuvre it around various South American continents. Sounds like sense, right?
I left Heathrow that dark winter evening to fly for 10h 40m to Bogota, Colombia for a 3 hour layover at some ridiculous time in the morning (they’re 5 hours behind), and then on to another flight for a 2 hour nap southwards to Guayaquil, Ecuador.
At least I’ve got the right gate! 
Napping on the plane 
Coming into Guayaquil
We’ll come back to Guayaquil later, since I stayed a couple of nights there for Phase 2 of South America 2020: the Galapagos. After a long journey already, and arriving somepoint in the early morning, I had McDonalds for breakfast (if the vegans knew, they’d be in uproar, but it was nice to see a familiar fast food face). What hit me first was the heat: boof! Guayaquil, despite being situated on the coast, is humid. And it’s like that all the time.
There are ponds full of fish you can feed outside the international terminal building, but I headed straight past to the taxi rank. I’ve found that if you look and act confident enough, people will tend to leave you alone. If you’re focused on the task at hand, you’re not going to notice whether people stare at the foreigner or not (they usually do in the less touristy areas, but you get used to it)
Mission No. 1, should I choose to accept it, was to get to Cuenca (Ecuador, not Spain). Turns out it was to be harder than I expected…
Guayaquil bus station is not for the faint hearted… or the tired solo traveller. The Terminale Terrestre (as all bus stations in this part of the continent are called) is huge. Although I had experience of the little micro buses of Chile, those local bus stops on street corners were nothing compared to this monstrosity. Not only is the place a bus station it also appears to be a mall… with multiple levels. After a long-haul flight, carrying three heavy bags it was not a fun place to test out my then rather non-existent Spanish.
As I was to discover, all terminale terrestres follow the same basic structure: ticket offices for each individual bus company, the separate place where you pay the bus tax and then where you actually get on the buses. These are not all in the same place and may not even be in the same building (I’m looking at you Arequipa, but that’s a long way away at this point. Turns out you can get a hell of a lot done in 2 months. Quarantined me take note…)
But Guayaquil: picture chaos. Compared with our neat and ordered little (emphasis on little) island, South America by contrast is BIG and LARGE and HUGE, and therefore, a lot of things there are big, because they have the space to spare. Buses are the transporte du jour of any South American country and Guayaquil is a main city. Buses go anywhere and everywhere – there are even international buses that go to different countries. Long bus journeys are a given and the South American (SA) people are really good at them. I noted down in my digital diary that ‘people can sleep so quickly on the bus!’
When you enter the Guayaquil Terminale Terrestre from the packed taxi rank (where people ask you if you want a taxi even as you’re getting out of one), you enter a huge multi-story building. Armed with printed-out instructions of what I needed to do I went in to look for the ticket offices. Little did I realise that there would be over 100 separate ticket offices. I know, because they were numbered. I wandered down the length of the offices to stares, since I was the only westerner, or indeed foreigner in the entire building. People were calling out place names at me like I had a clue or would just decide that yes, in fact, I do want to go to that random place you’re yelling at me.
I went upstairs, but no luck. A nice security guard sent my bags and I back downstairs to begin the quest again. The bus company I needed wasn’t on any of the signs, and I was HOT. The humidity there is ridiculous, never mind all my cumbersome bags. When I had heaved and hefted them all up for the first time at Heathrow I wondered how I was going to get myself and all that baggage around. Lucky I’m a strong British woman and have my Potter genes and upbringing on my side!
Eventually I found the right office… right next to where I started, because of course. I bought my ticket, gave them my passport number (they all ask for it. You’d be screwed if you came in illegally) and managed to head off in the direction from whence I had previously wandered to my bus on the first floor. Here, you pay the bus tax at a turnstile before the physical bus stations. Bags go through on a conveyor belt next to you, so don’t worry I managed to fit through.
The journey was going to be about 4 hours, so I looked over the snack shops for sustenance, but at this point all I wanted was to get on an airconditioned bus and get going far far faaaar away. Before I got on, the driver loaded 2 of my 3 bags (camera with me thanking you) under the bus. I found my seat number (you are assigned a seat number, an asiento) and sank in for my long bus journey.
The journey is memorable for me due to the fact that this was my first long bus ride, my first view of Ecuador and for the appearance of my 1st Bad Bus Movie. Bus journeys are so long here that obviously the people need entertainment. This is provided courtesy of Bad Movies. My first bad movie experience is hands down the best, simply because I had no clue what was going on, but after everything, I have dubbed Commando 2 the best Bad Movie I had ever seen due to its ridiculousness.
Stand outs include the ‘Commando song’ that played when the main guy had a fight (every 2.5 seconds), the gorgeous woman who turned out to be the villain but damn did she have the best of the wardrobe budget, and the borderline psychopathic police lady who was also ridiculously school-girlish and innocent in every aspect other than killing. Because nothing screams sexy more than a crazy innocent psychopath. Weird.
Eventually we arrived at Cuenca, where I exited the bus more confused than when I entered. Was I entertained? The jury is still out. It was still light when I got to Cuenca, thankfully. I was desperate to get off the bus and away from the man who had slept on me for nearly the entire journey. I felt like I was going mad.
I took a taxi to Yakumama hostel, which was hands down one of the coolest places I stayed. Bloody knackered as I was, I ventured out for Thai food (I know, I know, no South American cuisine for me yet) and then walked around with my GoPro as it was getting dark. I liked what I saw: it was a colonial town through and through. Much more European than anything I’d encountered before in South America. I loved it (still do!) and I can’t wait to head back there.
My bed is the messiest one! 
Yum. 
Stray doggos are a common sight
Sadly, I was off again the next morning, all too soon, to continue my trip to the rainforest proper. As it was a Sunday, which I hadn’t realised or planned for, everything was closed. But it’s not a true trip, and you’re not really a traveller unless things go ‘wrong’. One of my fellow travellers shared some bread with me while extolling the virtue of my eyes and my ‘vibe’. My vibe was still pretty tired so I’m not sure what he meant!
My bus was at 10am, so I headed back to the bus station, my hostel having called me a taxi. I was quickly discovering that not many people spoke English here, though as Cuenca has a large number of American ex-pats I discovered central Cuenca was pretty easy. I ended up having more success finding the ticket office this time and getting on the right bus. I knew what to expect and the Terminale Terrestre is so much smaller. Most people out there are happy to help, it’s just the trying to understand them which can be an issue.
The bus tax here was 1 dime, which was detailed on my travel instructions. You pay at a machine located before the turnstile. Same deal with the turnstile as at Guayaquil.
This bus journey went much better than the last, since I was well rested and not so desperate to LEAVE. Another 4ish hours of bus-time, except this time we headed upwards and over the Andes. Mountain roads in South America are questionable when compared with the safety-first principles opted for by the Europeans. Thankfully it was very misty while we travelled over the highest and most precipitous part of the route, since there were no barriers of any kind to keep us from certain death, just a void of cloud. A single-lane way, with various passing places was rather hair-raising especially when you’re on a big bus. It’s one of those times when you have no choice but to put your life and all of your faith in the hands of the drivers.
I surprised myself in that I wasn’t overly concerned, since I reasoned that the two drivers weren’t likely to want to plunge a full bus off a mountain, themselves included. There are generally 2 bus drivers on routes, so they can switch and help with pick-ups along the route.
Today’s Bad Bus Movie also happened to be grotesque. Nicholas Cage and John Travolta physically swap their faces. Weirdness ensues. It’s called Face/Off, and I cannot for the life of me understand how this became a Hollywood movie with 2 big names attached. Watching films in another language is a polarizing experience, since you really have to pay attention to the action of the story without the benefit of language to bulk out the backstory. I can only imagine what state the writer was in when he (definitely a ‘he’) dreamt this up. I would have loved to be a fly on the wall in that pitch meeting too.
Arriving at Gualaquiza is a feeling of arriving truly in the middle of nowhere. It’s a provincial backwater town located in the Morona-Santiago Province, close to the border with Peru. I was glad to see the AFF sign and the volunteers when I got off. I wasn’t the only white person on the bus and I figured there was only one reason why foreigners were heading into the provincial backwaters: the 2nd Amazon Fruit Festival.
We took a taxi along the bumpiest road for the 40-minute ride to the Terra Frutis* site (see below). Quite a journey, and a rather apt, if extreme, introduction to the roads of South America. Arriving at Terra Frutis was a relief after all my travelling, and it was nice to know that I would be based here for a good while before I had to attempt the reverse journey again.
My time in the rainforest was to be, above all else, a learning curve and a lot of work for me. I am not a vegan, not even a vegetarian. I try to eat less meat, but this festival was to take my eating habits to the extreme. How did I deal with it? Let’s find out…
*A note on Terra Frutis and the Amazon Fruit Festival:
Terra Frutis is the name of a parcel of land in south-east Ecuador used for the purpose of intentional homesteading for those following a committed vegan way of life. In 2020, the Amazon Fruit Festival was the second annual festival the site held, giving committed vegans the chance to experience homegrown life on a homesteading project.
The Fruit Haven projects are parcels of land nearby where people can purchase homesteading lots, based on a group buy scheme.
For more info:
Terra Frutis – https://terrafrutis.com/
Amazon Fruit Festival (featuring my photos!) – https://www.amazonfruitfestival.com/
Fruit Haven – https://www.fruithavenecovillage.com/
Group Land Buy Scheme – https://www.fruithavenecovillage.com/group-land-buys
It sounds idyllic, but it’s worth noting that even so far in the middle of nowhere, there is a gold mining enterprise across the river at Terra Frutis. It really showed me just how far industry has spread, to some random middle-of-nowhere place in the Amazon. I know we hear about it, but it’s surreal to experience it in person.
Collecting Continents 