As I ride into Ecuador and near the 0 degree latitude, I’m culminating a few days of rain and dark skies. I’ve been now in Otavalo, a little town known for its artisan market a few hours north of Quito and I’ve had nothing but gray, cold, rainy wet days. The hostel I’m staying at, although centrally located, is pretty much vacant. It’s the weekend and oddly the town seems empty. Sure, there are some people working and the shops are open, but even when I go into a restaurant to eat, there might be one other table with someone there.
I have definitely had too much time to myself. I’m starting to wonder about the purpose of this whole trip. I’m tired of riding… long days, wet feet, and this chill I just can’t seem to shake. It’s gotten into my bones and it’s not letting go. Rio and Brazil seem really far away at this point.
Am I going to make it all that way?
Tonight I went back to the hostel, Sunday night, and turned on the TV and all I could find was evangelical TV personalities. What’s worse, I started watching one of them as there was nothing else on… and as if I were a gluten for punishment, I had to deal with some of the worst consecutive translation English into Spanish of an American pastor at some stadium-looking locale in Latin America. That guy was simply terrible. For all the accuracy this guy was translating, the crowd could have easily been yelling “Halleluyah” to a gringo on stage rattling off his Gramma’s banana nut bread recipe.
I also miss my wife, friends, and just my daily routine back home. I’m not sure I’m motivated enough to take off tomorrow and head to Quito. I still have to look up where in the City I want to stay.
I am hearing out my window the constant nagging rain hitting the tin roof that hangs over the laundry area next to my room. Ok, I’m done for tonight.