PUERTO PISSY PANTS

I was Miss Pissy Pants yesterday.  NOT all day… but most of the day.  Please remember how hungry I was… it wasn’t a conscious diet-effort hungry, it was an actual ‘get me food that isn’t rice NOW’ kind of starving & craving…

I got up early in Ayangue, got all of my things together and got ready to leave the B&B.  Big Hugs was actually incredible to me- gave me a bottle of water and a map of the coast of Ecuador… AND a big hug, funny that … Then, of course, she asked me to go on Trip Advisor and write a nice review.

I have considered writing "Foreigners take note!  I almost messed everything up for all of you! Big Hugs"... but I will say something more congenial and appreciate...

Big Hugs called me a taxi when I was all ready to go and it showed up almost immediately.  Everything was planned that Mr. Taxi was going to just drive me straight up to the highway and I was given explicit instructions not to move... to just sit there and wait on the side of the road… until a big green bus showed up.

This seemed quite daunting because... honestly, what if a big green bus never showed up?  Would I eventually just die from heat exhaustion on the side of the road?

They assured me that a big green bus would appear…so I took their word for it and headed out… ever hopeful.

You know, if my thighs weren’t so fat and my ankles weren’t so thick, I probably wouldn’t even have to worry about the big stupid green bus showing up, I could show a little leg and get a ride for free!  But given my current state of affairs, I’m not sure exactly what I’d get by showing my legs, but odd are that it wouldn’t be a free ride to Puerto Lopez.

The taxi pulled over to let me out and I just couldn’t help but keep thinking, “This is the moment of truth.”  This is the exact moment that I actually paid a taxi cab to drive me to the highway and leave me there.

But… WOW!  Luck be a lady tonight! 

The big green bus came wailing around the corner.  It was a sequence of dream-like events... Mr. Taxi waved it down, the big green bus stopped, Mr. Bus jumped out, grabbed my bag, tossed it in the storage compartment, I jumped on the bus and away we all went! … Easy peasy monkey squeezy.

Look at the cute little things!

The bus ride was about an hour an a half.  People got on. People got off.  It was a very pious big green bus, with a giant vinyl replica of Baby Jesus at the front, keeping a watchful eye on all of us for the entire ride and ensuring that we were all safe from harm... and sin.

We wound our way along the coast, through all the little beach towns, wove in and out of the forest, up and down the hills... and at one point, I think we must have gone past a dumping ground for bodies that couldn't afford proper burials... the smell was intense.

I actually thought I missed my stop because I was so enthralled in a game of Tetris on my phone... but thanks to Baby Jesus, I was ok.

In my little motorized Rickshaw!

Once off in Puerto Lopez, I saw the most neat-o thing.  Motorized rickshaws... everywhere, scooting up and down the road.  Jumped in one immediately, pack in hand, pointed forward and yelled “Bella Italia! Vamos!”

Bella Italia was a restaurant that I'd read about on line.  It had fantastic reviews for its Italian style food (not a rice or banana in site!) and damned if I wasn't going to partake... right away.

Remember how hangkry I had been?… Well, the thought of Puerto Lopez was the only thing that kept me alive… because I knew that as soon as I got there, I was going to EAT (*not rice, bananas, queso, eggs, chicken, fish or bananas)...

Like commanded, in good form, Mr. Rickshaw took me straight to Bella Italia, which, I might add, is nothing more than a house on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere, with a sign that read "Bella Italia."

  

Closed.

I felt like a Griswold at Wally World.  Disappointment engulfed me.  To add insult to injury, a creepy little man peeked through the curtain and yelled 'Cerrado!"

Mr. Rickshaw still wanted to leave me there... but there was zero chance that I was exiting my only means of transportation, in the middle of nowhere.  

Please take me to food that isn’t rice…

Please… I might only have a few hours to live....

He tried to take me a few places. All closed.  Finally I gave him his $2 and got out on the main Puerto Lopez promenade.  There seemed to be a restaurant every 2 feet, so I was fairly confident that I'd find something.  The one place I finally decided to drag my pack in to ended up having exactly the same menu as every where else, but in their defence, they had wine and wifi... so I sat down for a well deserved break.  I could only stay for a couple though, as it wasn't long before the Spanish version of "Call me Maybe" came on, and that was my cue to depart...

My quest for food came up fruitless... literally, I couldn't even find fruit. Nothing… ZERO.  Many signs lead me in each & every direction, with promises of pizza & hamburgers & lasagna… but almost all of them closed… or non existent... or too far to walk with my 300 pound friend.

Then I started to get pissed off.  As it was now past 1pm, I jumped back in a taxi to head up to my B&B.  The least I could do was dump my pack.

Online, Maremonti B&B was a picturesque, quaint little bed & breakfast with amazing views of the town and the beach... and that is exactly what it ended up being... BUT WAY up the mountain (hill) and in the most remote part of town.

The lady who ran the B&B was lovely, but she must have hated me up a storm... When I arrived, I was feeling shitty about the location and how I would get in and out of town.  Then she showed me to my room, which had 3 double beds... setting me off in to thoughts that I was expected to share!  *I was assured that they room was only for me.  Then she expressed concern that I was traveling alone, which I misinterpreted as an issue, due to my emotional state of mind.  I was just depleted. None of the rooms had been cleaned yet... the toilet in my room was broken (seems to be a theme here).  There was another room directly next door, with only 1 bed, and I asked if I could have that one. It was smaller… and more suited to me traveling alone.

The road less traveled...
Down from my B&B

I left to give everyone a break from me and make the big 20 minute trek back in to town... but every recommendation that people gave me for a restaurant was closed until 6pm.

I stopped at a local bakery on the road and just pointed at something that didn’t look too sickly sweet.  I think I heard the words 'pan' and 'miel' - by taste, I can only assume that it was some kind of honey bun.  At one point, I did have to laugh… I envisioned me collapsing in the dirt, over exhausted from this search.  The authorities would find me with a half chewed piece of honeybun hanging out of my mouth.

It was then that I decided that eating fries would tie me over and be fine until all of the worlds pizzerias finally opened.  It was right there, on this particular menu, that I saw Lasagna!!!  I had a choice of chicken or beef.

"OMG - give me chicken lasagna! PRONTO!"

No mushrooms. No cilantro.  I was set.  Then the waiting game began.  I waited and I waited and I waited… and when it finally arrived, I realized WHY it took so long.  They cooked each individual piece to order!  And the reason I knew this, was because the noodles were undercooked... almost to the point of inedible… 

It was awful.

On my plate, I had 1 & 1/2 pieces of toast… so I proceeded to make a melted cheese & chicken toastie and shoved the noodle pieces to the side of the plate.  As nauseating as it was, my hunger was distinguished for the time being and I could now try to continue with me day trying not to be negative & mean.

And then I saw the most beautiful skirt in the world!  I was lured, absolutely spellbound in the thoughts that it would look amazing on me once I lose 40 pounds... and plus, I have loads of room in my backpack!

$8... paid... love it... put it in my bag... left the store and kept walking, thinking that luck was changing in my favour- and perhaps I just needed a little bit of retail therapy to get me over the hump of the day.

It was then that I realized my phone was missing.  PANIC.

I retraced my exact steps back to the store in which I had purchased the skirt.  Nope... they hadn't seen it.    I think it was a grandpa and his granddaughter.  They were so nice and tried helping by attempting to call my phone... that was on silence, with no roaming fees... ugh.  Doomed.  And then there it was, shoved in between the product and the glass in the retail display.  Obviously, I had been so taken with the skirt, that I had put my phone down, and it had fallen through the broken glass and right in to the display. Baby Jesus was with me on the bus, and he was still with me in Puerto Lopez. Holy shit.

View from the road to my B&B

After this, I was really hating Puerto Lopez so I decided it might be a good idea to return to my B&B - relax, have a lovely swim, enjoy the view, read a bit... I wasn't hangkry anymore and I had my phone in the tight grips of my hot little hands.

Then a little later… I headed back in to town.  God suddenly it feels like the only reason I go to town is to eat.  Well, haters, I also had to get wine...

I walked directly to the first place I saw. There were 3 options.

• 1 slice - $1
• Medium Pizza - $8
• Large Pizza - $10

Obviously I wanted the medium, right?  Seemed reasonable.

"Do you have wifi?".... No. *First red flag.

"Do you have wine?".... No.  *uh-oh...

Why I didn’t leave right then and there… ???
So I sat on a child size seat, drinking my aqua sin gas, waiting for my pizza and then I happened to turn around. 

It’s HUGE.

The thing is more than 16”!  NO!!!!!

No no no.

I kept saying to the girl, it’s just me!!! No. TOO big.  Honestly, it wasn't her fault, but wow, now I was getting frustrated... because what was I supposed to do with this enormous pizza?  It was ridiculous.  I just sat there… waiting, growing more and more irritated with each second that passed.... and then, finally it came out of the oven.   

Then she proceeded to pull out a pizza box that would make pizza boxes at the Sasquatch Pub look like lego.  Colossal.  I could NOT walk around with this.. it was like an "I just picked up Christmas dinner for the family type of pizza box!"

"Please have something smaller?"

Nope.

Good news... the girl offered to put the pizza on a plate.

Bad news... the plate was a 5 inch styrofoam plate.   She started taking the pizza, piece by piece and FOLDING them so that it would fit on top of each other, on the ONE small plate. All the toppings were sliding off.. the plate was filling with cheese grease and tomato sauce.  It just put me over the edge.  I pulled out $10, said 'no' one more time, paid for it, apologized for the inconvenience and walked away.

Everyone has a breaking point, and mine was a 16" pizza, folded up piece by piece and being towered on to a 5" styrofoam plate.

You know those moments when you just have to walk away... without pizza.  That was my moment.

Signs (and Baby Jesus) led me back to Bella Italia.  Despite it's questionable location, it ended up being the most beautiful little Italian garden restaurant I have ever encountered.  Especially in Ecuador!  I ate a Caprese Salad, some garlic ciabatta, and it was exactly what I needed.  

Made my way back to the B&B, and sat for a couple hours and drank by the pool with my new friend, the lady who ran the hotel.  I don't think she hated me anymore.  We talked about life, love, travel... and polished off a bottle of red together!

AND... when I went back to my room that night, there were a couple cockroaches in the bathroom.

I just thought, "Nice to see you again, old friends.  It's been a few years."

I like Puerto Lopez.

Life is good again :-)

AYANGUE AND A LITTLE HUNGRY TOO

There I was in beautiful, and eerily quiet, Ayangue.  When I arrived on Sunday, the place was seriously hopping with people and beach bars and vendors and local crafts...

But then Monday came... and it was just me!  So I took the opportunity to walk along the beach and wander throughout the town, which is very small.  I sat on the beach and read... wandered some more... Pretty boring, uneventful day...

There are little beach cabanas everywhere... and by this, I mean that there are small pop up 15x15 'only top' tents scattered along the shore, with old plastic deck chairs underneath them - ranging in price from $5-$7US to rent for the day... the whole tent, that is.  This seems reasonable for a family of 15 or a school group... but for just me?  It's too expensive considering the return on investment! I just want to sit down in the sun for an hour, without getting sand in my bum.

Speaking of sitting down, I also thought I might want to lie down ... catch some rays... read a bit and maybe have a nap on the beach.  I knew that this was going to make up the majority of my day... and there was no way I could go in the water with so few bait & buffers at the beach.  I would definitely get eaten if I ventured in on my own.

Problem is that I don't have a beach towel.  Now, I can hardly afford to get one, considering the current state of my already overflowing & hefty backpack... but I figured I would probably need one...  My entire upcoming week is going to be spent at the beach.  Plus... my big, clever plan is to ship some stuff home when I get to Puerto Lopez... right?

Not a beach towel in town.  

I challenge anyone to find one.  You can purchase floaties, beach balls, knitted bikini tops, toy elephants made out of shells, large tacky hats, summer dresses, sippy cups... but no beach towels.  Believe me... Ayangue is a small town... and I went in to EVERY shop.

At first, I didn't know the word for 'towel'... so I attempted to explain exactly what I needed by doing a very convincing & crowd pleasing impression of 'toweling off' despuese del bano... *after the bath...

But alas... no towels... so sand it is and sand it shall be.  One beach bar guy let me sit in his seats, provided I drink beer.  Ahh... the sacrifices we make in life.

Breakfast...

The one thing about this day that was really starting to gnaw at me was my inextinguishable hunger.  I tried to fight it... but who I would have killed for a piece of Lasagna...  and what I would have done for a pep & ched...

Just so that everyone is clear,  this blog post is mostly just me being hungry, angry and cranky... hangkry.

You've been warned.

I have reached a point in my journey where I can not digest ONE more ounce of rice, not one more banana or plantain or empanada...  Absolutely no more 'pan con queso' (*bread with cheese) or scrambled eggs...   I have also eaten my fair share of fried fish & chicken in the past two weeks and I'm done...

I need something different.

And sometimes, understandably (I think), you just want to spruce it up...

*In saying this, I do realize that I made mention earlier about potentially living here, solely for the fried plantains and the multi-coloured toilets... but like most extremists, I ate them (plantains... not toilets) every single day and am now sick of them... 

**But... also, in saying THAT, when I was in Italy, every single day for over a month, I would sit down at lunch and have a caprese salad and a 1/4 litre of red wine.

Guess it's all in what you love, like and are able to tolerate...

Like any diligent traveler, I had a quick look on Google Maps to see exactly what was out there in the culinary world of Ayangue.
Much to my delight... I found a Thai Restaurant AND a Pizzeria... on my way!

Comedor Thalia...

My first thought... I could really go for some Thai.  VERY unusual to find a Thai restaurant in such a small town in Ecuador, but, why not?  It ended up being Comedor Thalia... otherwise known as Thalia's Dining Room.  I'm an idiot.

La DolceVita Pizzeria
Non existent... Do NOT come
to Ayangue for the Pizza

Not to worry... just a couple blocks down was the La Dolce Vita Pizzeria.  I could almost taste it... or maybe I couldn't... because it didn't exist.  I must have circled that 4 block radius about 11 times looking.
Nothing.

I finally succumbed to a bag of Doritos and a Virgin Pina Colada.... that's right, Virgin.  I didn't need alcohol... I needed substance.  Sipping on my Pineapple Coconut concoction, I was caught in the cross fire of 'Cocteleno Theo' and 'Cocteleno Yadira'... two cocktail joints, separated by a mere 3 metres at best... both with their own favourite Spanish hip hop at full density.   It was not a particularly relaxing beach virgin cocktail... 

After a brief nap back at the B&B, I ventured out to find something to eat... again... and at this point, I was starving.  I figured I could eat just about anything... except bananas, rice, scrambled eggs, chicken, fish or cheese... 

I checked out every single menu along the way (they are ALL the same) and finally decided to treat myself to Lobster.  I'm in a coastal town... I'm starving... I like Lobster... it's not toooooooo expensive.  I haven't yet had lobster on this trip... 

Lobster it is.

My choices were- 

• Lobster natural.
• Lobster with garlic.
• Lobster with butter.
• Lobster stuffed.
• Lobster grilled.
• Lobster with rice.
• Lobster with gratin.

I chose the Lobster with garlic.
Couldn't help but think though... what if I wanted Garlic Lobster stuffed AND grilled, served with a side of butter and some rice...?
Come to think of it... we all know that I don't think I'll ever order the 'side of butter' here ever again...

I don't like the menu options... it doesn't leave a lot of room open to be high maintenance.

But lucky for them and probably for me, they were out of lobster.... so I chose the next best thing- and the fastest thing I could decide on while the waiter stood there staring at me.  

I chose Shrimp Spaghetti.

Ok... once again, I apologize for my continual negativity... but... 

1. The spaghetti sauce was a mixture of ketchup and margarine.  I know it. (the waiter even brought me more ketchup in case I wanted to add more... They call ketchup, 'salsa de tomate' which gives you the impression that it's tomato salsa, but it's not...)
2. Rice... again.
3. Deep fried plantains... again.
4. And then... my worst fear came true right in front of my face... cilantro ALL over it.  Tiny, small pieces of cilantro cooked in with all of it.  NOOOOOOO!!!!!!

It's entirely my fault and I accept that.  I'm the idiot that knows that cilantro goes in to every single meal here.  I should have known better. Everything has cilantro. 

I picked at it, moved everything around the plate a few times, tried to pat cilantro off the shrimp with a napkin, dipped shrimp in to my water glass... 

Finally I just surrendered the meal to the flies that I had been desperately trying to fight off the entire time.  They wanted it more than I did.

My final night in Ayangue...

I walked back to the B&B, a shadow of my former self...
Stopped in to a little store and got a bottle of liquid yogurt... another sad attempt to fill the void.

I knew I had a half bottle of red waiting back at the room for me, and that would have to be enough to tie me over until morning.... 

And zero cilantro in that bad boy!

BIG HUGS & NO BORRACHA

I had to part with some very dear friends yesterday...

That’s right… I went through my entire pack and I took out a few items of clothing that were weighing me down… snuck down to the hostel laundry area, and strategically placed them in an area so it looks like I ‘forgot’ them… This was exceedingly difficult, because it's not like I decide to travel with clothes I hate.

Yesterday I might have mentioned something about how tough  it can be traveling as a solo female at times…

• Having to lug around a heavy, large pack on your own because you don't have proper packing insight nor do you have the ability to control your spending when you’re at a local market.

• Having everyone concerned (code for: afraid you'll die) if you want to wander out on your own in the evening.

• Those judgemental looks when you ask for a second glass of vino tinto.  Or a third.  Or a fourth.  God forbid you want a seventh.

• When you’re so incredibly beautiful that men will simply NOT leave you alone day or night…. Thank God I don’t  have that problem… as I think I've got enough going on trying to find a corner store that sells bottles of wine, as well as hauling around this ridiculously heavy pack.

The struggle is real.

I have no idea why I decided to bring so much… I think it's because I only started packing about 4 hours before I had to leave for the airport.

"In a relationship"

It doesn't matter where I go on vacation, or for how long, I always get this notion in my head that I will probably only want to wear the outfits that I never actually wear at home.  And usually, each one of those outfits is slightly too small.

And believe me, I parade around the house in each tiny & tight outfit before adding it in to my luggage, but there is still a voice in my head assuring me that it's going to look fabulous when I arrive at my destination.

I admit it, I have a bad habit of packing below my body weight.  And too much.

One of my greatest fears is losing my luggage, especially here.  I'd be forced out on the streets to buy things like hot pink pants, fake suede stilettos, and extra tights sequin belly shirts that say things like "But first, coffee" and "Actually I am a unicorn."

I'd like to say that I drew this in the
sand after I found wine for sale...
but I didn't.
It was there when I walked by.

No, thank you, sir.

Ok.. back to my actual day's adventure.

I really struggled a lot in the last couple days trying to figure out HOW I was going to get to Ayangue.  It's a teeny tiny town on the coast, and the closest that the bus gets is pulling over and dumping you on the side of the road.  Then life becomes survival of the fittest as you're forced to find your own way in to town... 2.5km.  Now, don’t get me wrong, I am always up for  a challenge… unless it’s this particular challenge.  I really didn't want to have to walk that far in the scorching & paralyzing heat, carrying the worlds most massive & burdensome backpack… along with all my other necessities in life... purse, beach bag…

I checked Uber… no cars available…
Zero taxis.

So… I decided to wing it. 

I caught a taxi outside fiesta central (that's my new name for the hostel I stayed at) and my plan was to go to the bus terminal in Santa Elena... and just try to figure it out from there.

Maybe hitchhike?  Pray that some non-creepy, doesn’t-want-to-murder-me person takes pity on me, and might possibly pick me up & deliver me, in one piece, with all my stuff, to my B&B...

I’m tough… I can do it.

This was the dashboard of my taxi... 
Carpet?  Fur?

Tip for future travellers - don’t ever find yourself in this predicament.  Go where the buses go… don’t book cute Air B&B’s in the middle of nowhere if you don't have a rental car or a ride!

The taxi driver that pulled over to pick me up for the first leg of my journey offered to drive me all the way to Ayangue for ONLY $20. Boom!  Drive on, new best friend.

I actually gave him $30 for sparing me the dread and the misery.

See?  Things DO work out.  And if they don’t, then it’s usually chalked up to a long day or a sudden lack of funds... but it's almost always a great story.

Big Hugs!

He drove me straight to the door of Casa Nautilus - remember?  The people that were the ones basically set to build a wall to keep me out because of their loss of faith in foreigners?  ... ahhh... the memories.  The lady was very sweet though.  Big hugs to me.  In fact, I'm going to refer to her as 'Big Hugs' from now on.

The taxi driver wouldn’t leave until I had the telephone number of everyone in his family, because he’s convinced that I’m going to phone him on Tuesday to drive me from Ayangue to Puerto Lopez for $60… The bus goes for $3.  Yep.  Just wait by the phone... 

Actually, I have a sneaky suspicion that he might just show up.  Stay tuned.

My accommodation is right on the beach… and it seems like a pretty secure, safe and quiet location.  I even went for a walk, and about 20 minutes away, I suddenly had a panic attack realizing that maybe I hadn't locked my room.  Instead of running back, which I normally would do, I kept walking, convincing myself that my stuff would be fine... and it was.

So after that breakthrough, I left everything in the room and went out to play in the waves for an hour of so.

This is BIG for me.  Especially by myself.

I’m scared of sharks. Petrified.  It takes a LOT for me to go in to the ocean, and even then, I never go in over my head.

To me, every shadow is a shark.  Every wave that breaks, a shark is behind it. Everything that touches me is a shark skimming past me. The only time I feel remotely safe is if I'm surrounded by shark buffers or if there is someone further out in the water that looks more like a seal than I do.

I’ve never scuba dived… 

I’ve snorkelled, but only briefly, ensuring that there is always someone directly beside me that I could toss to the shark, if push came to shove.

When I was in Australia, a bunch of did a 3 day tour through the Whitsunday Islands.  For some reason, I was below deck doing something dumb, and the boat had anchored. All of my friends had jumped off the boat and began their swim (about 25 metres) towards the reefs/coral/whatever… to snorkel.

When I eventually came up on deck, everyone was gone.  The deck hands kept saying, “just jump.”  

Just jump?  In to deep, dark, unknown ocean water... by myself?  In the exact location that I KNOW sharks are feeding...??  I would have had a heart attack before I even hit the water.  I begged them to take me over in the dingy… but they weren’t having any of it.  It’s terrifying (and funny) to even think about it still.  Australia - capital of sharks… jump in?  No, thanks.

Eventually my friends turned around to come back and get me, which was nice.  I doubt they’d have been so nice had they known that each and every one of them was merely a bait buffer. They go first.

To drink here or not?
That is the question...

There is a bamboo beach bar directly outside my hotel.  As soon as I saw it, Big Hugs gave me a stern warning NOT to drink there because I would get sick.  The exact word was 'enfermos' and she made a nauseated facial expression while rubbing her tummy.

Hmmm… hangover sick or Malaria sick?  

Couldn’t figure it out, so maybe I’ll steer clear of that place considering I haven’t yet taken the necessary precautions and got me a damn mosquito net yet!  Plus… I already checked it out and they don’t have any wine on their menu.

I also haven't got a hat... and I've noticed that my scalp is slightly sunburn pink... which I am hoping might kill off any lice that I may have contracted at fiesta central.

I did see Boiled Banana Balls on a sign for breakfast and right there, it struck me down again... the thought and taste of margarine churning & rotting in my body.  This will NOT go away without a fight...

But now... I sit here in my little Utopia… the power is out for some reason and the wifi is gone.  Figures.  I managed to find a lovely bottle of wine and I borrowed a cup from Big Hugs.   I think that after the mean email that she sent me last month, she OWES me a cup.  

She did make a point to say "No Borracha"… (translation- "Don't get drunk") so there goes my big plan for the evening....

Guess I could always wander out in to the night for some deep fried bananas... but I had them again today at lunch.

Life is tough…