Quito

They say that first impressions are important so when I arrived exhausted after nearly 100km and 1500m of climbing, soaking wet from the driving rain and unable to see anything but low smoggy clouds I felt me and Quito had got off on the wrong foot. I trudged, driping the equatorial rain, into an internet cafe to look for a hostel and saw I had a message from a Quitoñian cyclist I had contacted. After a quick phone call, I had a place to stay and as I walked out the door the sky was brightening and the sun was threatening to make a welcome breakthrough, things were looking up. 30 minutes later I had been greeted by Luis, my host, with a big bear hug and was tucking into a delicious lunch. Things kept on improving: Luis had spent 6 years living in London so he knew well the British sense of humour (aswell as being fully supplied with tea and marmalade) that I had been missing; on top of this both he and Margarita worked as guides in Ecuador and so I learnt a great deal from them about the country I was now passing through.

I had originally planned to spend only a few days in Quito but this changed to over a week as I waited in vain for ash-delayed shoes to arrive from England. However a combination of language school and Luis's energy and passion for cycling and promoting our fine sport kept me extremely busy. Luis quickly put his network of contacts in gear and before my 8 day stay was over I had done an interview for a national radio station (you can hear the complete terror in my voice in the first half before I managed to relax a little), an interview for a Quitoñian cylcing campain, ciclopolis and given a talk at Luis's sons school. The last one of these was by far the most enjoyable as talking to and interacting with kids, who seemed genuinely interested by the idea of my trip, was surprisingly rewarding and also gave me a chance to really assess my trip to date and the people and places I had seen.

However not all was work: on the weekend we headed out towards the volcano, Pichincha, that dominates (when the clouds allow) the western Quito sky. As we dropped into the adjacent valley, that holds an easier route to the summit, all memory of the big smoggy city melted away. The countryside was strangely very English with lush green fields dotted with cows and of course plenty of cloud. The cloud was so abundant that after a delicious lunch of typical Ecuadorian food (a root, similar to a new potato, and big green beans stewed together, served with fat corn on the cob, potato cakes and roasted pork) we decided it was pointless to try and climb the Volcano and so on a whim we stopped off at a Hacienda on the way home. We spent the next 4 hours walking round the grounds, playing football and I even tried my hand at miking a cow before sitting in front of a roaring fire drinking hot choclate, made from the milk I'd just been skwirting into a bucket, chatting with the owners of the Hacienda, who were also very keen cyclists.

On every Sunday a very special thing happens in Quito: they close to traffic a route through the city, around 30 km's from North to South. On this route only vehicles without an engine are allowed, the most common is of course the beloved bicycle but there are also plenty of walkers, joggers and kid's on push scooters. This weekly event gives an amazing opportunity to see the city and with Martin, one of Luis's sons, I took full advantage of this and together we cycled the length of the route and back again, passing through the modern commercial center, then the historic old town before heading into the Southern suburbs and finishing in a beautiful city park. After such a long stay and having done so much with Luis and his family I was sad to be leave them and the weather mirrored my mood as I peddalled out into a torrential downpour. I had one final treat waiting for me in Quito, a meeting with another cyclist. Mario had spent four months cycling round Ecuador, written a book about his adventures (I am now a proud owner of an auotgraphed copy) and was putting the final touches to preparations for cycling round his home continent, a 2 year trip. Cycling the back roads of Quito listening to Mario talk about routes and places to visit on my way down to Peru was a fitting end to my stay in this phenomenal city.