Travel : Ecuador Part Two - Puerto Lopez

Life's a beach in Puerto Lopez

 Quito to Puerto Lopez

Save money. Take the night bus. Ok then. How bad can 10 hours be? Hmm.

We managed to find the correct (of Quitos myriad) bus terminal in the morning and purchased our $12 tickets for the 250 mile trip to Puerto Lopez. This was fortunate. If we had turned up at 8pm without tickets, we would never have got on the bus. It was full, and our seats at the front. Bags were searched and Liza's beer disallowed. Bodies were searched too by a young woman who would not have been out of place in the final of Miss Ecuador 2008. She spent more time fondling my crotch than any British customs officer would have dared. No drugs there my dear, but I am not sure you were looking for them anyway. Hmm. (It later transpires the search was for weapons - the night bus gets attacked and robbed with regularity, sometimes from the inside).

We left Quito at a fair pace. It had not occured to us why 250 miles was going to take 10 hours. We were soon to find out. Not far out of Quito the pace slowed. Being at the front of the bus we had an excellent view of the endless miles of trucks crawling ahead of us. Wood trucks, water trucks, fuel trucks - every f**king thing in South America trucks. As Liza said, it looked like the evacuation of New Orleans - except presumably this is a nightly occurence for Quito.

The jam was bad enough, the musical accompaniment far worse. Could not really blame the driver, he needed something to keep him awake. And so it was we were treated to a cultural lesson in Ecuadorean rhythm. For 10 hours. At Spinal Tapesque volume 11. But for the lack of a blunt instrument (an Ecuadorean guitar?) Liza would probably now be serving life. Yes, it was that bad. And it was to be our initiation into the extremely noisy world of long distance public transport travel in South America. A world dominated by potholes, bumps and repetitive, so repetitive, Latin beats.

After several hours and some suicidal overtaking we lost the last of the evacuees. And then the journey got even slower, for no trucks were crazy enough to follow the road we were now taking.
I use the word "road" loosely. 10,000 holes in Blackburn Lancashire? Nah John, that would be luxury. Add a zero. Or two. Maybe three. We are talking more holes than road. We are talking poverty economy. Real poverty.

Puerto Lopez welcomes careful drivers. Ok, any drivers.

The wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round the holes in the road, round and round the random dogs and donkeys in the road, round and round the small children in the road, who, at 3am run alongside hopelessly trying to tempt the driver to buy their sweets. But this driver is not for stopping. In the darkest hour of the night we encounter a 'policeman' in the middle of the road, hand raised, calling the bus to a halt. But the driver doesn't stop, just swings the bus round the barely discenible shadow and presses on full steam ahead, full steam being about 20mph. Later we learn that the man was most probably not a policeman at all but one of the many desperate rural poor in Ecuador who hold up night buses for a living. Probably in order to raise enough cash to pay a human trafficker for an unsafe passage to America via the badlands of Mexico's growing drug war. It's life, but not as we know it.

Shanty towns continue to pass slowly by in the darkness. Extremely poor people with no homes to go to, or no shack worth going to, try, barechested, without success, to flag down the bus. But this driver was not for flagging (maybe if they waved CD's at him?). Immaculately, incongrously dressed in white tie and pristine shirt on and on he pressed, the volume of the music increasing as the rest of the passengers made futile attempts to sleepily anaesthetise themselves from the dangers of the desperados and the din of the disco.

I found myself praying for daylight.


Puerto Lopez

Some months back in the lap of luxury we call Llandeilo, our sleepy rural home in Wales, Puerto Lopez conjured up visions of a whitewashed harbour town, breakers rolling gently in from the Pacific while tourists bobbed around playfully in the water, their dollars providing for a booming local economy visible through improved roads, housing etc.

It's amazing what 8000 miles can do for ignorance.

Daylight finally arrived in time for us to see the last shanty town before Puerto Lopez. Please please do not let this be our town I thought to myself. We cannot stay here. And my wish was granted. It was Machalilla, gateway to the National Park. Edale it was not. And I will leave that one there.

A couple of miles down the road, down the potholes, we reached our town, literally bumping into Puerto Lopez. It was the end of the road. And that's not a figure of speech either. The bus took an immediate detour as the road disintegrated into nothing. And I mean nothing. The "road" we did take was no more than gravel and holes. Mainly holes. Better than nothing but still impossible to envisage National Express rolling their stock into such suspension-crushing inevitability.

It was 6.30am. Liza and I were the only people left on the bus save for our Ecuadorean musical afficianado driver. Relief at arriving safely, indeed, arriving anywhere at all, meant Liza's murderous demeanour of the last ten hours had dissipated, humanity returned. Instead of killing him Liza thanked the driver with utter sincerity and he smiled appreciatively in return. There has to be easier ways to earn a dollar. I doubt he was paid much more than that. After ten hours negotiating with jams, bandits and potholes he had arrived in the same pristine condition as he had started, shirt and tie immaculate. I jumped off the bus dusty, unkempt and feeling a bit humbled.

Can I have my breakfast now please?

 Off the bus, rucksacks on and straightaway we are jumped on by Moto-Taxi drivers (think rickshaw plus motorbike). "No gracias" becomes a common phrase. There is no hassle, the taxi drivers smile and politely accept our refusal. It's an early lesson in the Ecuadorean psyche I will come to love. It's not unusual for people, basic humanity, to be put before profit here. This will take some getting used to after a lifetime of western capitalism but I'm more than grateful to have the opportunity.

Off we trudge looking for Hostal Itapoa, though with no idea how to find it.

Humanity rears it's ugly head again. Ecuadoreans are so helpful, so friendly. You simply have to ask. A man on the street corner tells us todo recto, a la playa, a la derecha. Which just so happens to be the extent of my Spanish. Brilliant. These people have even watched the same BBC teach yourself Spanish downloads as me.

The town is poor, beyond any poverty I have ever seen (and I have been to Morocco). Houses are unfinished, largely windowless (an Ecuadorean phenomenon it seems) and there are no proper roads, just gravel and holes, gravel and holes. Everywhere is covered in dust and the shops only sell basics...basics seeming to consist of bits of metal you might bang together to make...something. There are few shops and fewer tourists. Indeed there are no tourists. Just a handful of travellers. Puerto Lopez is hard to reach and luxury-free, encapsulating neatly the distinction between tourism and travelling.

Hotel Itapoa is basic but beautiful, cabanas around beautifully planted gardens with colourful birds everywhere. And Puerto Lopez turns out to have an inner beauty of its own.

Neither of us have ever seen anything like Puerto Lopez. With its tumbledown shacks it reeks of poverty and happiness (oh, and fish). There are poorer places in the world, in the jungles of South America even, but those places largely do not exist within global economies. Puerto Lopez is a town on the coast of Ecuador. Ecuador is an oil-producing democracy of the world. Not one drop of that oil has been spilt into the laps of the people of Puerto Lopez.

I am not in the business of  romanticizing poverty. I am sure, given the choice, the people here would gladly swap their poverty for economic wealth. I am equally sure that for every American dollar gained, they would lose double the amount of happiness. People smile here, constantly. They are friendly, polite, helpful, communal. Human virtues that get lost with financial gain, with separation from the lives we were meant to lead. These people are not tainted by extreme greed and rampant commercialism. And it makes a difference. A difference that can visibly be seen. There are no playstations here. No TV's. Kids play baseball with a stick off the ground and a piece of fruit plucked from a tree. The kids are happy. The kids smile. Constantly.

Dinner

Sport - The Ashes Day Five. Humiliation for Aus's toothless attack.

England 260 and 517-1 (Strauss 110, Cook 235*, Trott 135*) drew with Australia 481 and 107-1

"Alright then but no tongues Cookie"

Records fell left, right and centre at the Gabba on the fifth day, including Hussey and Haddin's record stand for any wicket in a Test there which had stood for all of 48 hours. Cook beat Bradman's top score at the Gabba. England recorded their highest score ever for the loss of a single wicket. And we still wait official confirmation from twitter for Warne's attempt at the 140 characters involving the most F's K's and asterisks. The score remains 0-0 going into the second test in Adelaide on Friday but possibly the biggest 1-0 psychological victory England have held over the Aussies since...since...Jimmy and Monty played out 11.3 overs to deny the Aussies at Cardiff in the first test of the last series.

England truly have nothing to fear from the weakest Australian bowling attack I've seen in 40 years of (mostly painful) Ashes viewing. Even on the rare occasions England offered up a chance the Aussies were too deflated by their bowling inadequacies to hold any catches. Most un-Australian. Johnson has gone from sure-fire McGrath replacement to some kind of Devon Malcolm tribute act. Xavier Doherty (good Aussie name that) is a spinner like Shane Warne in the same way that Asti Spumanti is fizz like Moet. Siddle's had his birthday. And Hilfenhaus spearheads an attack with the zest and vigour displayed by Angus Fraser on a bad day. Ponting's got problems.

For England only Swann was left with any real questions to think about. And when the Aussies go back to the drawing board to confront their own short-comings I reckon they'll be too busy sorting themselves out to have the courage to carry on with their own transparent plan A (there is no plan B) of hitting Swann out of the attack. I can see Swann turning 0-40 into 5-90 in more than one innings in this series.

517-1. I have to write that again. 517-1. In Dutch football PSV recently beat their rivals Feyenoord 10-0. 517-1 is the Ashes equivalent. Had it been the other way around I dread to think of the panning Anderson and co. would have received from their critics. As it is Aleem Dar had to have a word in Anderson's ear to stop him sledging Watson and Ponting when the Aussies returned to bat. Happy days Jimmy. Happy days.

Rise up like lions. You really have nothing to fear.

Sport - The Ashes Day Four. Strauss leads from the front.

It's hero time

Miracles do happen. All over the UK England cricket fans were waking up this morning in disbelief at what they saw or heard from their chosen media, all of whom had obviously entered a massive conspiracy to avert the inevitable depression that comes with the inevitable English defeat. Sports editors nationwide concocted a fanciful scorecard for their public which showed England at a ludicrously unbelievable 309-1 at the close of day four. Except, of course, they hadn't had to concoct anything. For Strauss, Cook and latterly Trott all combined to give English cricket one of it's finest days down under.

Strauss batted like a man on a mission. His third ball duck in the first innings had given him the worst emotions he'd ever experienced on a cricket pitch. The man in form, the captain, knew he'd missed out and messed up. It was never going to happen again. Although only two England captains before him had ever made a century in the opening Ashes test  it was hardly ever in doubt Strauss was about to become the third. Cleverly supported by Cook both made the Australian attack look just what it was - very ordinairy. Ponting must go to bed these days dreaming of the lost riches of McGrath and Warne. Ponting must be a worried man.

When Strauss departed Cook and Trott seamlessly carried the sensible batting on. Australia failed to hang on to their catches and the bowling was at times insipid, the new ball all but being completely wasted. England are now 88 ahead with a possible 94 overs tomorrow. Batting to mid-afternoon on the 5th day ensures England cannot lose and would give them 35-40 overs to rattle a few Aussie wickets. Batting on to tea or longer means condemning Australia's bowlers to another long hot energy sapping day in the field.

The draw is virtually a nailed on certainty. But after today's miracle it is advantage England. The momentum is with the visitors.

Johnson drops Strauss. Australia drop Johnson?

Sport - The Ashes Days 2 and 3. Australia take control.

Mr Cricket batters England.

It couldn't be much worse for the much hyped England. Having started the Ashes as thinly veiled favourites - to themselves at least - the scorecard by the end of day three told a reciprocal tale. At close on day two the card didn't look that threatening. Australia 220-5 and about to face the new ball. But the important bit read Hussey 81*, Haddin 22*. Both went on to make centuries and dominate a luckless England bowling attack eventually compiling a stand of 307 to break England's hearts if not their backs. The innings closed on 481 and Strauss and Cook were left to negotiate a nervous 15 overs, none more nervous than Strauss who survived a referral first ball.

That first hour of the third day was decisive. Anderson bowled out of his skin and got absolutely no reward for his efforts. When people drag up two-dimensional statistics showing Anderson to be comparatively ineffective away from the seam and swing of an English summer they completely forget about days like these. On another day Anderson would have had two or three wickets before lunch. Cricket fates are built on such slim margins.

Hussey won't care. Although he'll surely regret getting himself out tamely on 195 with a loose pull. Haddin had already departed for 136 and though Finn succinctly mopped up the tail it was all about 195 runs too late for the health of England's game. Finn took 6-125 and Swann weighed in with a couple of wickets having suffered a serious assault on his bowling for the first four overs. Despite their battering England's bowlers showed great mental fortitude. Now it's the turn of their batsmen to do the same.

Steve Finn, career best six wickets at the Gabba.

Sport - Ashes Day One. Siddle's birthday hat-trick.

The face of England's nightmares

Pardon me for not being delighted. Siddle ripped the heart out of England's batting on day one resulting in a sub-standard 260 all out for the Ashes holders. Australia closed, comfortably, on 25-0.
I'd tipped Siddle to be top Aussie wicket-taker in the series at 7-1. He seems to have made a brilliant start dismissing Cook, Prior and Broad in consecutive balls. That's some way to celebrate your birthday. And that wasn't even the opening calamity for England. Last year we had Harmison's first ball disaster. This year we were made to wait a whole two deliveries more for Strauss to cut to gully and depart, crestfallen, for a duck. Despite fighting innings from Bell (76) and Cook (67 but droped on 26) and a typically fancy but ultimately disappointing 43 from Pietersen (out to an attacking shot, who'd have thought it?) England were demolished and demoralized by Siddle's hat-trick in a period of play when England were just starting to regain the upper hand. This Test, if not the series, is a long uphill struggle from here.

Prediction for tomorrow? Aussies to close on or around 301-4. Ponting to shine.

Sport - The Ashes

England have won the Ashes! Hussey prods to short leg and that's it. It's all over! 

For cricket fans in England and Australia the greatest rivalry in international sport starts all over again in just 41 hours from now. As a fan, follower and commentator on all things cricket for 41 years I'd like to think it's worth you listening to what I have to say. All things being equal (unlike, say, a Pakistan one-day international) you may even make a few quid. Primarily, however, this column exists to reflect on the glory of an enthralling international contest - and to whinge at Kevin Pietersen and his damaged ego of ever diminishing returns (Shane Warne was right).

Outside of America and it's glorified game of rounders cricket produces statistics unrivalled in any other sport. That's largely down to the nature of a game that produces hundreds of runs in every match as opposed to say "Northampton Town 0 Crewe Alexandra 1". I also suspect it's a legacy of cricket's public school backdrop that determines a sport can only be erudite if it can be intellectualized and analysed through empirical evidence. The paradoxes of course are that public schools in England are anything but public and that cricket statistics are the eponymous epitome of 'lies, damn lies and statistics'.

Take the 2009 Ashes averages. Australia had six players averaging over 40 (the Holy Grail representing a decent performance) while England had just two, one of whom, Jonathan Trott, had only played one game. Four Australian bowlers took wickets at under 33 - England had just two. All of which suggests Australia more than just edged a series victory. England, of course, won the series 2-1 and go into the 1st Test at Brisbane tomorrow (23.30 GMT) as holders of the urn. So much for statistics.

Ponting - Man under Pressure

Australia may be favourites with the bookmakers, playing at home where they haven't lost a series against England since the last millenium (and boy does it feel like a whole millenium) but in the current climate, where Australia are having to analyse defeats instead of victories and come into the series on the back of a 2-0 loss in India it's not unreasonable for English fans to have some genuine hope (if not expectation) for the first time in many years away from home. Nobody who saw it will ever forget the abomination of the first ball bowled by Harmison four years ago, a car-crash illustration of the pressure sport can bring to bear. Watch once more, if you dare.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A7Y6T44tzIc

This time the pressure is on Australia and specifically on Ponting whose future role in international captaincy, perhaps cricket as a whole, depends upon beating England in this series.

So who is going to help Ponting? First and foremost Ponting himself I expect. In this series he'll go past 12,500 runs and 150 tests, such experience you cannot (thankfully) buy in the international arena. Without doubt one of the modern 'greats' Ponting can almost certainly be relied upon to guts it out more than anyone and I reckon he's a snip at 4-1 with William Hill to be Australia's top batsman. However, Ponting will also go past 36 in this series and knows he invites criticism at home with every wrong field placing let alone every defeat. If let down by those around him it's not impossible to envisage Ponting's concentration finally giving in too and without his runs Australia will face almost inevitable defeat.

Australia's batting is dependent on a good start from the openers (they probably do think themselves lucky they aren't New Zealand http://stats.espncricinfo.com/ci/engine/stats/index.html?class=1;filter=advanced;orderby=fow_score;partnership_wicketmax1=1;partnership_wicketval1=partnership_wicket;spanmin1=15+jun+2004;spanval1=span;team=5;template=results;type=fow;view=innings). But I do expect a good start. Katich and Watson may not be Hayden and Langer but they are a solid opening pair. Someone (Anderson?) needs to get into Watson in particular because once set he doesn't seem to have too many problems until he reaches 'the nervous nineties' (out three times in 39 innings). Katich has these problems too being twice dismissed on 99 and once on 98. But those are nice problems to have.

Of far more concern to Ponting will be the form (not to mention fitness) of Clarke, Hussey and North. With barely a good score between them since March Australia has the appearance of a weak underbelly in the middle order. That said, Clarke in particular has often shone brightest at home and none of these batsmen can be taken lightly. (Apart from North perhaps...)

In the same vein, the loss to Australia's bowling attack cannot be over-estimated. Bollinger, Hilfenhaus, Johnson and Siddle are from another planet to McGrath, Gillespie, Lee and Warne. The omission of Hauritz in order to include a rookie spinner  (Xavier Doherty who has 84 first class wickets at 48) speaks volumes about the dearth of talent in the wake of Shane Warne. Bollinger might be worth a shilling at 5-1 with Ladbrokes to be top Aussie wicket-taker in the series even though he is a late omission from the First Test - but if does finish up top of the Aussie pile then expect Australia to have lost the series. More than ever it seems all Australia is willing a return to form for Mitchell Johnson. Personally I wouldn't hold my breath on that one.

Keep it down Mr Strauss

Which is probably just as well for England. Being a life-long sufferer of England batting collapses I know when not to crow too early. So, it seems, does Andrew Strauss. I like the man. His predecessor, Michael Vaughan, became a bit too vocal in the latter stages of his captaincy, drunk on the success of regaining the Ashes in 2005. Strauss has more nous. He manages to retain perspective without slipping into insipid blandness while still giving the impression he knows, secretly almost, that he is capable of punishing high-class bowling attacks at will. And this, remember, is not a high-class bowling attack. By acting as he has Strauss has ensured the pressure remains on Ponting and his team rather than entirely on the shoulders of the man bowling the first ball at Brisbane. Pity Vaughan didn't do the same for Harmison last time around.

Strauss is also 4-1 with William Hill to be top run scorer for his team. Certainly a better bet than the 4-1 on offer for the increasingly fragile ego at number four. Those looking for value surely won't look beyond the 6-1 on offer for Bell at Paddy Power but being a career long critic of the man I couldn't possibly advise that. If England go to pieces in Brisbane and lose heavily then those with a speculative punt on Eoin Morgan (not playing at Brisbane but 20-1 with Ladbrokes, Victor Chandler, Stan James and others) might still be laughing come the end of the Fifth test. Trott, Pietersen, Bell and Collingwood all know they are playing for their place with every innings such is the pressure being applied by the young Irishman.

Let's hope the pressure works. England's batting cannot afford to be dodgy. To win these Ashes they will have to score runs, lots of runs, on at least two or three occasions. Of  less concern is their bowling attack of which new found inspiration Graeme Swann is rightly the pick of the crop. England's slow bowlers have not had the best of times abroad in the Ashes but frankly that's because they have mostly been sub-standard for years. Swann, however his reinvention has come about, is anything but sub-standard and seems to revel a good scrap. For every Monty Panesar fan who wishes him the best of luck in coming back to form (and I'm one of them) I'll show you the same fan being equally relieved and effusive about the resurgence of Swann. Thirty wickets between them at the SCG and the MCG would be just dandy. Back in the real world expect Broad to be successful (and garner respect from begrudging Aussies) for his aggression and hope that Jimmy Anderson puts his poor away Test match record to bed. I'm not so confident about Anderson but am rapidly becoming a fan of Tim Bresnan who is a remarkable 70-1 on Betfair or 33-1 with the more conventional totesport to be top England bowler.

The only discipline in the ascendance throughout the two teams is the bowling of England. Is this enough to sway the Ashes England's way? I don't think so. Australia at home are still a very tough nut to crack and for all their failings have only lost three Tests out of 17 played at home since the retirement of Hayden and McGrath. Only South Africa have won a series here in that time and that was only a three match affair. The romantic inside me would love to say 3-2 England. The ever-suffering England follower might say a more realistic 3-1 Australia (9-1 with Stan James).

Planet Geli's Tips Not To Follow


Top Aussie batsman (series) Ponting 10pts (4-1)
Top Aussie bowler (series)   Bollinger 5pts (10-1) Siddle 5pts (7-1)
Top England batsman (series) Strauss 10pts (4-1) Morgan 10pts (20-1)
Top England bowler (series) Swann  10pts (5-4) Broad 10pts (4-1) Bresnan 5pts (70-1)
Series correct score Australia 3-1 10pts (9-1) Australia 2-1 10pts (8-1)
Player of the series Ponting 10pts (10-1) Strauss 10pts (14-1)

(For full odds comparisons see www.oddschecker.com)

News - Shulgin suffers stroke. (Update)

God in his laboratory.

Alexander Shulgin, 85, whose extensive research in psychopharmacology can be claimed to have positively benefited the lives of millions, is in hospital after suffering a stroke.

Man at pearly gates : "Who's that over there, looks like Alexander Shulgin?"
St Christopher : "Nah, that's God. He just likes to play at being Shulgin now and again."

Thoughts go out to a great man.

Sasha and Ann

Hello Everyone ~ This morning on the way to the hospital for a scheduled test, Sasha had a stroke. He has been struggling for six months with an ulcer on his left foot that won’t heal, hoping to avoid amputation. Sasha & Ann have been in serious financial trouble for some years, and the coming medical bills will be a burden they can’t bear alone. Please, express your gratitude for all the work that Sasha has done, for everything he has given to the world, and give something back. Think of all the ways that your life, and the lives of others, have been healed, transformed, and bettered by this wonderful man. He needs your help now. No amount is too small or too large. Please give until it feels good...not until it hurts.

For non-tax-deductible contributions, Paypal $ to [annandsashashulgin@comcast.net] or snailmail: Sasha Shulgin, c/o Transform Press, PO Box 13675, Berkeley CA 94712.

For tax-deductible online donations to support the completion of Shulgin publishing projects that are underway: http://www.erowid.org/donations/project_shulgin.php

Please spread this information.

And from MOP on www.bluelight.ru

It's a damn shame. This bloke has done more for mental health than anyone else in history.
One day his 'tools' will be used to help so many people and will be fully excepted by mainstream medicine.
Like so many people before him his life time work will be hailed as some of the most important discoveries of all time.
What do that lovely couple have to day.
Unaffordable medical bills and so many untruths told about them. 
The world should hang it's head in shame to how one of its brightest stars has been treated.


And more from bluelight.

The stroke was relatively minor, and he has suffered some speech disturbances, but should still able to communicate effectively with some therapy. The bigger problem is the foot, which has gotten pretty necrotic. They were having problems getting the angiogram but he got put under yesterday (to prevent movement, he kept moving the first few attempts) and was supposed to come home today. Lets hope it went well.

Travel : Ecuador

Obligatory foot in two hemispheres photo-opportunity.

If you're going to go around the world I reckon the middle is as good a place as any to begin. For a start there's so much choice, so many middles to choose from. For the wealthier traveller there's Borneo and Kiribati, for the adventurous there's the DRCongo. And retired quantity surveyors might want to check out Somalia, I don't know. I just figured if you are going to start at the equator then you may as well be literal as well as anal and start at the one that sounds like e-qua-tor. Ecuador it is then.
         Quito. Every city is an ugly city. The sprawling tenements of Quito offer no exception to the rule. However, it does have its advantages. Nestling at an altitude of some 9000 ft and being flanked on either side by even higher lush green mountains, its hard to feel claustrophobic here.
Did I say lush? That´ll be the rain then. We (let me introduce my girlfriend and fellow traveller Liza) arrived in typical spring-like Ecuadorean weather in late September. Not too hot, not too.. within 30 minutes of arriving at the Secret Garden the clouds rolled over the hills and an immense thunderstorm crashed its way across the city, sheet lightning illuminating the urban sprawl. Welcome to Quito, the man said. This only happens about 30 times a year.

Claustrophobic? No. Just put that fire out please.

It took us 24 hrs to find our feet and 48 for me, as a smoker, to find my lungs. Our first excursion took us, where else, to the equator, Mitad del Mundo, where controversy abounds, as controversy seems to, as to the exact location of the centre of the Earth. The French had marked a line and even built a monument but that was (literally) miles out. Sept kilometre. Should have asked Jules Verne...or the Incas. Or, there being none around anymore, the locals. Hundreds of years earlier, while the West was still under the misapprehension that the world was flat, and with no fancy technology other than a study of the path of the sun and the moon, the Incas knew. And today, with GPS technology, the Incas have been proved correct. A new line was drawn (see above) in 1980. And even this, by modern mapping standards (hello google) is 240m off-centre.
  I wonder if they told the (Ex-)President? Bill Clinton has his own plaque, Hollywood stylee, completely incongruously, at the official (ie wrong) Mitad del Mundo. "Bill Clinton stood here". Like. Wow.
 We moved on, a few km North to Pululahua, a Geo-Botanical reserve inhabited by ethnic Ecuadoreans, the San Idriso community. They live, essentially, in the crater of an inactive volcano.

Afternoon cloud, a regular event, begins to envelop the San Idriso community.

Unusually for us we did the tourist thing and took an English speaking guide. This was a great thing to do. Not only did he fully inform us of the superior Incan knowledge regarding the correct line of the equator, he also led us up a crazy mountain path (Liza in sandals) to the Ventanillas look-out point to view the spectacular volcanic crater and its inhabitants. Further, he sat us down and played beautifully on his Ocarina, music entirely in harmony with the surroundings, a call to Mother Nature. And finally he gave us his (non-western) take on 2012 and the Mayan prophecies of the end of the world. There is no apocalypse. Simply a change away from materialist thought to a more spiritual plane.
To our shame, perhaps because our senses were overloaded with S.American culture, history and scenery, we cannot remember his name. Fernando? Possibly. Fernando. Vice-President of the Volcanoes. No plaque required.

Mitad del Mundo can be reached by local metrobus from Cotocallao station. Pululahua is a further 10 mins by taxi. Public transport in Ecuador is excellent, cheap and whatever the opposite of green is.

                                           

News - New releases

Aung San Suu Kyi awaits delivery of Ideal Home Magazine...possibly.

It's been a good week for hostages. First Aung San Suu Kyi in Burma, prisoner of conscience, pro-democracy campaigner and, in case you wondered why her freedom matters to the British establishment, Oxford graduate, was freed after spending 15 of the last 21 years under house arrest along with her two housekeepers, prompting calls for the abolition of the Burmese military junta as well as posing questions about the number of staff one requires when dinner parties become a thing of the past. Then Aung's release was swiftly followed by the freedom of the Chandlers, Rachel and Paul, held captive by increasingly pissed off Somali pirates who took 13 months to realise that the retired quantity surveyor and economist from Tunbridge Wells were small fish in a sea of South Korean supertankers and Russian military hardware. The pirates were last heard bemoaning the fact that the (insert own guess here)/£500,000 paid ransom barely covered the costs of feeding their captives. Judging by the picture below the pirates were either a) telling porkies (surely not) b) feeding the couple on scraps flown in from L'Oranger restaurant in St James http://www.telegraph.co.uk/foodanddrink/foodanddrinknews/8138599/Couple-arrested-over-smoke-and-run-restaurant-fraud.html or, failing those two options, the price of qat has rocketed since I last bought some.

Rachel and Paul Chandler - Eating the flowers of paradise?

In the spirit of freedom, Planet Geli wishes all parties well. And let's not forget, celebrity hostages aside, that there are another 2,200 incarcerated political prisoners in Burma who are not Oxford graduates and 400-500 shipping staff from merchant Navies across the globe currently being held in tents along Somalia's coastline. When all these people are free we can truly celebrate freedom of movement and book our cruises through the Indian Ocean. Until then the road to Mandalay should remain closed.

Save me from drowning in the sea
Beat me up on the beach

What a lovely holiday
There's nothing funny left to say
This sombre song would drain the sun
But it won't shine until it's sung

No water running in the stream
The saddest place we've ever seen

Everything I touched was golden
Everything I loved got broken
On the road to Mandalay
Every mistake I've ever made
Has been rehashed and then replayed
As I got lost along the way

There's nothing left for you to give
The truth is all that you're left with
Twenty paces then at dawn
We will die and be reborn

I like to sleep beneath the trees
Have the universe at one with me
Look down the barrel of a gun
And feel the Moon replace the Sun

Everything we've ever stolen
Has been lost returned or broken
No more dragons left to slay
Every mistake I've ever made
Has been rehashed and then replayed
As I got lost along the way

Save me from drowning in the sea
Beat me up on the beach
What a lovely holiday
There's nothing funny left to say



Robbie Williams (!!??) - not Kipling.