Vilcabamba

Another bus ride. This one was supposed to be much shorter but it was still close to 5 hours for the first leg to Loja and less than an hour for the second up to the remote mountain town of Vilcabamba. It is the most common form of transportation here, as in Colombia, and isn't without problems. You cannot believe the estimated length of the trip. The bathrooms in the rear are horribly gross, if present, and difficult to use -even for a guy- on the winding roads. The direct bus will make as many stops as they want, filling seats and stopping for any stop requested, so you can get on and off at any point along the route. It can get very crowded - people doubled up in seats and standing. You will see random hook-ups, crying children, leaking windows, eating, vomiting, snoring and maybe even five hours of sylvester stallone movies. You will not see air conditioning. The buses here were overall in better shape than in Colombia. To begin my first Colombian bus ride in Cali at midnight a roach crawled across my arm. It was not a pleasant introduction.
The buses are convenient, inexpensive, regular and the prices are standard=no haggling or tourist tarriffs.
This ride was the disco bus. I recognized some of the songs, but many were in English and I don't remember hearing them before. They sounded like chinese remakes of american disco and it was horrifying and funny. And they played in a convenient loop that allowed us to enjoy them several times. My neighbor was in a hurry and kept checking his phone and cursing. He got off early and was replaced by an elderly campesina, in uniform of dark solid skirt and colored sweater, but with a black hat rather than the white ones more common in Cuenca. I never discovered the significance of this gang attire.
The second bus to Vilcabamba was mostly school aged kids returning home for the weekend. The interior running lights in the bus were rings of neon blue and orange fixed below the carry on rack. It looked like a disco bus and the effect through the hills, twists and curves is somewhat nauseating.
Vilcabamba is a small and fairly common mountain farming town, known for its spring water - rumored to posses anti-aging properties - and for a variety of outdoor activities. We got in at 10pm and it appeared completely silent. J2 had looked up a hostal and we grabbed a cab to carry us the 2km up the hill. We walked down a lush corridor of flowering foliage quite amazed by the neat beauty of our surroundings, even in the dark. The front desk was closed and I was grumbling already because we hadn't eaten, but we found the bar open and the bartender located the proprietor and made us a scratch pizza! We got the last room available.

This was the view in the morning from our room:

I jogged down to the city center.

Our view from the cafe, which had an amazing fresh fruit, bread, real coffee, meat and eggs or crepes made to order included:

 They were booked for the next night, but our gracious German hosts welcomed us to stay for the day and see if anything opened up. We packed up and put our things behind the desk to head out for a hike.
Our hostal created a map system of nearby trails, so it was fairly easy, with some guidance from the locals, to find the trail and the maps served well thereafter.

 

we kept seeing these huge spiders

One of my few shirts on this trip was a Christmas present that says Lone Star State, which led to a conversation with a couple that we met who then hiked with us for the day.

After the hike we headed back for some German food and I went for a swim while the girls got ready for a massage at the spa.

 

Hostal cafe with Mandango Mt in the background

We moved into the city center and I found a band playing there that I listened to for hours. It was in a corner cafe that was half full of musicians and they kept rotating members in and out of the audience and band, changing up styles and players with a mix of traditional Quechan and Spanish music.
The next day the girls were going horseback riding, but I wanted to hike Mandango.

It was palm sunday though, so I stopped at church.

This trail was really hard to find, so if our dorm-mate hadn't given me a good description I would have gotten lost. You start by walking up a dirt road by a cornfield, then cross a part of the field, under a barbed wire fence, through some brush where there is no trail at all, then onto a well marked cow path that has overhang at four feet so you walk bent over for a wandering twenty minutes before coming to the trail proper.

trail beginning

first peak

destination - second peak

second peak view, first peak in background