Rain, rain and more rain

The Quilotoa Loop is, as the name suggests, a walking loop that takes in some stunning scenery just west of Latacunga and culminates in a steep climb up to an extinct volcano and the lake in its crater. After a very bumpy and windy bus journey, during which we both felt sick both from the motion but also the huge steep, near vertical drop offs each side (exacerbated by the bus speeding around muddy hairpin corners) we jumped out and gladly began our trek toward our first overnight stop, the village of Isinlivi.

The first few miles were pleasant – flat dusty roads weaving through the valley. It then began to rain, lightly at first, but soon it was basically torrential and we had to don our raincoats. Then the climb out of the valley began, and soon we were both feeling the effects of the altitude. It was steep, muddy, and very wet. We were both very wet from both the rain and sweat when we reached the top and it was with some relief that we reached our hostel for the night. The views would have been lovely had we been able to see them through the clouds so we settled in next to the fire and read our books whilst drying our clothes over the stove. After a beer and lovely warming meal we both crashed out for the night – the warm day turned into a cold night and we were glad for the extra blankets.

We awoke the next day to find that the weather had cleared a bit and we were rewarded with lovely views over the valley below us. It was bitter sweet though as we knew that today we had to walk into it and then straight out of it again to reach Chugchilian, our next stop. It was doubly interesting as Hoff had succumbed the night before to a nasty bout of the trots, and had spent much of the morning visiting the porcelain throne! Dosed up on Imodium, we set off.

The walk down was slippery but fun, and we turned left along the valley and followed the river to a small village. All the villagers were working together to hand Harrow a field, as the kids were all at school, and we wandered through avoiding the local dogs as well as the loose wandering sheep and cows. We then had a steep slog back up the other side of the valley. It was so steep and the altitude so high that every minute or so we had to stop to catch our breath. At the top we had a wonderful view back down the valley and gave our last biscuits to two children who followed us for a few minutes. The last section was on a nice tarmac road so we literally marched into town to find our hostel. After a quick shower we went to explore the town – which took all of 2 minutes as it was tiny. Retiring back to our hostel with a beer, we played Guess Who and Jenga (the latter which we completed, if that is possible) next to the fire until it got dark, then scoffed down dinner before getting another early night. Hoff was still suffering with tummy trouble so didn’t get much sleep, but seeing as the curtains were basically see through, neither did I!

Thursday dawned and it was miserable. Sheet rain was falling and we had our longest and hardest day ahead of us. Coupled with Hoff still feeling dodgy we weren’t exactly looking forward to it. Luckily we caught a break in the weather and hiked off to make the most of it. Our route today followed the top of the valley- interspersed with some steep climbs and descents along its edge – before we began the gargantuan climb up Quilotoa itself. Just as we started the climb proper the rain began again and we were both pretty miserable – Hoff feeling pretty ropey and me running low on energy. We struggled up through the clouds and reached the rim of the volcano, and could see – nothing. Absolutely nothing. The cloud was so thick it was like walking through pea soup. Disheartened we dropped down into the bowl a bit hoping to see the lake. We couldn’t see anything, and coupled with the fact that we were walking along a treacherous ledge, we began to feel the whole affair had been a waste of time.

Then suddenly, as we dropped down a bit, Hoff shouted to me that she could see something below us. Sure enough, out of the mist emerged a huge lake which encompassed the whole of the dormant volcanoes crater. It was spectacular and as we dropped further down it all appeared. It was majestic and well worth the whole hike – trots and all! We were suddenly joined by an old man who through mime and hand gestures indicated he would show us how to get back to Quilotoa, the local town and our pick up point. We tried in vain to tell him we didn’t need his help but he persisted until we eventually turned to Google Translate on my phone to thank him for the kind gesture but that we didn’t need his help. He then stood his ground as he asked us for money – we’d been expecting this – so we gave him 50 cents and said bye. He had the slight cheek not only to count the money but then ask for more but we walked on, knowing that there would be another group behind us that he could try his luck with (and sure enough, there was). We plodded on towards the town – the rain starting again in earnest as we did – and by the time we reached the top we were soaked and had definitely had enough. We grabbed a coke for some energy and almost ran down to the bus station hoping to catch the 2.30pm, and made it by seconds. Hoff said a fleeting goodbye to ‘Sticky’, the stick she had found on day one and carried to keep stray dogs at bay/help with the steep climbs, then we hopped onboard. We were both asleep almost as soon as our bums hit the seats and woke up outside Latacunga as we were weaving our way back down the valley towards the town.

From the valley top we could look out north east all the way to Cotopaxi, another huge, but this time active, volcano, as it rose up to the dizzy heights of 5800m. That would be our challenge for Thursday, but for now we needed food, water, and lots of sleep to rest ahead of the climb the next day. We grabbed a take away pizza which I scoffed most of and gave the crusts to Hoff – now on day three of her tummy troubles she wasn’t taking any risks – and rewarded ourselves with a West Wing before falling asleep, dead to the world, recharging our weary legs (and in Hoff’s case, stomach muscles) ready for the day ahead.