Otavalo - a La Orden

Thursday, after taking care of some business - getting a phone, Kate getting a ticket to Spain, we went to la Fruteria Monseratte for what our guidebook recommended as the best breakfast deal in town. A big bowl of fresh fruit with cream and berry sauce, a smaller bowl of fruit without any trimmings, two empanadas made of plantains, one filled with a stinky cheese, the other with beef, scrambled eggs, chorizo, a croissant, and cafe fuerte!

The eggs were mesmerizing. In fact, eggs may be the best thing about Ecuadorian cuisine - they´re in everything, from plates of beef and rice to soups to plates of rice. It reminds me of Japan.

Then we were on the bus to Otavalo. Here is a shot through the bus window. On arrival, Otavalo seemed opaque. The streets were deserted, and there were long stretches of wall keeping what in and what out not at all clear. In front of such a wall Kate posed fresh.

See Kate fresh. We think Kate could have seduced Caesar with a glance, but it was not "Rome" scribbled on this wall, but "Romeo." Kate would never date a Montague... After settling in at our hostel, Rincon de Viajeras, which had a sublimely powerful shower, we went to Quino, famed for its ceviche. On the way, we came upon this strikingly lit church:

By the time we found Quino, so hungry were we that the shrimp ceviche could not survive in art - goodbye forever, fair ceviche! What did survive in posterity were these dregs of a fruity version of agua de guayasa, which is a rum, served hot, that has been infused with leaves of the guayasa plant. This is the look of "Kate will have no more."

After dinner, we went to a quaint restaurant called, quaintly, Mi Otavalito, for dessert and some live music. Blueberry ice cream with pineapple, melon, and papaya, a mocha and a hot chocolate. The milk was the richest I had ever tasted.

After dessert, we went in search of pure agua de guayasa, which we had heard was potent, not a little dangerous and, as our host mothers described it, typical of the area. We found it in this dive bar that surprised us with its warm fireplace and excellent live music. Kate learned the bar´s secret recipe from the bartender, who looked like "Machete" from "Grindhouse - Planet Terror." For fear of retribution, I did not photograph Machete.

Kate and I awoke early the next day to take in as much of the Saturday market as we could. Because it´s not safe to carry more than twenty dollars, we hid money under our insoles, and maybe one of us hid it in our undergear. I did not hide it in my undergear.

In our next installment, photos of the market, the jacket Kate did not buy, odds and ends, the ride home, in which Kate almost converts an Ecuadorean child to Americanism, and our bender at the Black Party- yes, you heard me, Quito has gays, and they love monochromatic parties as passionately as we. "Stay" tuned!