For two days, a local Ecuadorian family hosted our private tour of the cloud forest and surrounding rural cities. We went to the Equator, ziplined through the canopy, visited a butterfly farm, saw an artisinal chocolate-making production, hiked through calf-deep mud to a waterfall, milked a cow and spent the night in a cabin without electricity. But even better than the slew of thrilling activities was getting to know a local couple and their adorable youngest daughter.
I walked across the Colombian-Ecuadorian border a few days ago, and have been enjoying my time in Ecuador´s capital city, Quito, since. So far, I am completely in love with this country, and the best has yet to come.
My friend Nora and I are into our first week of two months backpacking through South America. First stop: Bogotá, Colombia. The country is reputed to be full of cocaine and violent rebels, but the Colombian slogan tells a different story: The only risk is that you might want to stay.
My friend Nora and I are flying to Bogotá, Colombia, and will then take buses to about 16 other cities on the way back to Santiago. We’ll live out of our backpacks on a bit more than $40 a day as we jump from hostels to Hashes through the Amazon Jungle to Inca ruins, around Lake Titicaca to the world’s largest salt flat and over the Andes to the driest desert on Earth.
And thanks to modern technology, I got the best of both worlds — Christmas at the beach and time with my family who was on another continent.
I’m pretty sure every little boy dreams of flying, as if he were a bird or superhuman: free, exploring the world’s wonders from its infinite sky. I’m also pretty sure that every man is just a little boy trapped in an adult body. So, for the boyfriend’s 30th birthday, I got him the gift of wings. Maitencillo, Chile, a quaint coastal town about 100 miles northwest of Santiago, is home to both a tawny sandy shoreline and some of the country’s best wind. In other words, there’s no better place to fly.
Mark insisted that all of us sit at a single table, like a family. I explained that with big families, Thanksgiving means grabbing every chair you can find and spreading out between the “dining room table, the table on the patio and the kids table.” Some people would even be relegated to eating dinner on a TV tray propped up in front of the couch. Mark would have no such thing. And with that, the quest for a table for 20 was born.
