Adventures of a Sun Seeker: Days 11 & 12: Center of the World

The Days of Lush are over, I said goodbye to expansive leaves and waterfalls. We are now back around 9500 feet, up in the Andes where the leaves that make me most excited belong to succulents. I did a little walk-gig of delight to find a Jade plant outside our hotel that was as big as a bush. And the rosettes of those jurassic looking succulents-on-stalks. These are the plants I see in botanic garden displays or that I even have little pet versions of in my apartment. I love seeing them out in the world!

El Mitad Del Mundo is a town north of Quito and translates to "the center of the world", in honor of the ecuator which passes there. There is a prominent showy monument that marks where the north and south hemispheres meet, allegedly, HOWEVER, when they constructed this monument it was before GPS. They got it wrong! The true center of the earth is actually a couple hundred meters away. While I didn't go to the big monument, I did want my picture at the actual center of the world. And I enjoyed walking around the town, eating a choco-banana and buying little breads to eat that all taste the same (as they do) and announcing to Elise, "I bet I'm stamping all over the ecuator right now!"

(By the way, it is now just Elise and me, as our third companion has headed back to the States to begin her job)

Near Mitad Del Mundo is the Geobotanical Reserve Pululahua (I can't pronounce it either), a volcano that has sunk into it's own bulk, leaving an amazing topographical situation: the land plunges into a deep circular mote, inside which is a mountain peak, which had been the top of the volcano. Trails lead enticingly all around these strange shapes, with a cafe perched at the edge of the mote with an incredible view. The park was reasonably busy, with mostly LatinX tourists having coffee and posing for photos. Elise and I were some of the few to, literally, get down and dirty and climb the steep trail into the mote. We descended zig-zagging on gravel and dust for a thousand feet (yes I mapped it) and then entered the flat mote. People were living inside the park! Little houses and hostels. I tried to imagine lava and ash and the hot mess that would have been an eruption; it was hard with the sweet gardens and houses there instead.

At one of the houses a particularly mild-mannered and cute dog came out to greet us. So far most dogs in Ecuador have been one of two types: aggressively barking to guard us away, or completely apathetic and skittish. This one had such a sweet face that we offered him a pet and a bit of our leftover breakfast.

As we stood up to head down the dirt road, he trotted along with us. Even as we began an ascent up a trail to one of the lumps on the collapsed peak, he stayed with us.

We named him 'Ficus Mindo Apollo Pig-pen' and he contently trotted along with us for the entire duration of our hike, even tho he was uninterested in the curry powder french fries and peanuts we offered him. How sweet was it to whistle and have our new friend appear out of the weeds to rejoin us. At the end of the hike, as we passed the house at which we had originally met him, a group of dogs came out, jumping and wagging, and our friend Ficus was reclaimed to them. I wonder if this guy just picks up hikers like this for nice daily walks.

We climbed up part of the tall center heap, and I loved the views into the mote and across to where we had clamboured down into the thing. Gangly flower stalks of agave stuck out from the land like Dr Seuss creatures. Mist rolled in from above the mote, I watched it roil and boil like a chemistry experiment and then dissipate. The sun came out and instantly we were under a broiler. With the sun tucked away and the wind up, it was cold enough for my wool layer. I was amazed to feel grumpily cold and miserably hot all in a couple hours period.

The whole hike was so satisfying, all 7 miles and 2,500 elevation gain of climbing (which is like walking from downtown to Cornell 5+ times). Coming up the zig-zag at the end was the hardest I've breathed and most I've sweat this whole trip. I stopped at the gratefully-placed benches on the way up to feel impressed and beat. I finally felt like I was at elevation. But at the top, oh, that coffee shop, oh, the views of the places we had walked, and I had a coffee and put ice cream in it and took off my shoes full of dust and life was so rich in those moments.