Ecuador 3 – Las Palmeras

We are installed in a heavenly casita on the road leading out of Otavalo, 2hrs from Quito. It’s in the grounds of a beautiful hacienda, the back drop is rural, beautiful mountains, volcanoes,and small farms. We are in the Northern Highlands part of the Andes. Whilst we are totally independent, with our own kitchen, we can use the facilities of the hotel, it’s a perfect arrangement. Ping pong room, internet, restaurant etc… So far we haven’t seen any other guests though. It’s my idea of a perfect heavenly hotel – loads of charm and character, white buildings, Spanish tiles, rustic totally un-fancy but oozing charm, rugs, fabrics and Ecuadorian blankets on the beds, and on the walls, pottery dotted around in alcoves here and there. flowers everywhere, and cobbled walk ways. It also has a large vegetable garden. Full of fruits, flowers and vegetables, and medicinal herbs, which we are allowed to help ourselves to. A few Alpacas and Llamas, keep the grass shorn. The place is totally tranquil and peaceful and idyllic and the children can roam wherever.

At 7 o’clock on the dot Jeron, with his jet black ponytail, comes and puts hot water bottles in our beds and lights the fires!  So bed time reading for the children is a very magical moment, as the flames dance on the ceiling of their bedroom and the Eucalyptus Lena gives off it’s heavenly aroma. This is one of my favourite times of day.

On the first night we arrived I was wiping down the kitchen surface, clearing up from supper and a little scorpion almost dropped into my hands.  So we are now on high alert, careful with emptying our shoes, cereal packets etc… This reminds me of my childhood living in Mexico when we woke up to 4 scorpions on the walls behind our bunk bed in Valle de Bravo. My long time friend Clare George (now House), captured one of the scorpions in a glass jar, with a bit of earth to feed on. She called him Aquarius and took him back on a long BOAC flight to her girls boarding school, where he spent the full summer term sitting in her knicker drawer at Rosemead, before being released on the shores on Valle lake, back (almost) where he began, not batting an eye, he sauntered out nonchalantly as though nothing unusual had happened.

The Otavalans are fiercely strong people and one of the wealthiest Indigenous people  in the world. They are good business people and  travel the world selling their goods and their music. If you see an Ecuadorian playing the pan pipe music in Paris or New Yotk, it is most likely to be an Otavalan.They stood their ground against the Spanish Conquistadors, who in the end decided to leave them be. Nothing much has changed.

Otavalo’s fame today is it’s huge indigenous market on Saturdays. Although it has grown enormously, it has probably retained most of the original character, which my mother would remember. It is still predominantly an Indian town, in spite of it’s proximity to Quito and modern life temptations. Although it has mass appeal on Saturdays when the tourists come flocking from Quito, it all recedes back again after dusk to a lovely local town again. The beautiful Indians, adorned with all their traditional dress, the jet black long hair, in a plait for the men, a pony tail for the women, woven with a colourful braid.  The ponchos, the hats, the white trousers for the men which stop at their shins and the beautiful embroidered blouses and gold bead necklaces which the women wear.

At the end of our road is the weekly animal market, where animals of all shapes and sizes are brought and exchanged or sold, from all the surrounding area. There is a hustle and bustle to this early morning market. It’s not colourful like the Saturday market with the fabric, blankets and ponchos – it’s drab and grey and there’s quite a bit of mud. The animals show a resistance, they know their fate. The children are not happy to be woken early and we drag them out of bed, to get there really early to watch. On the way there we see two large black pigs trying to keep their balance in the back of a pick up truck as it twists and swerves around the corners, We watch a small boy dragging a large, stubborn, squealing pig almost twice his size through the mud, by a thin rope. The pig has other ideas and it digs it’s trotters into the mud refusing to budge. Who is going to win this battle. Will anyone come to help this little boy? 

There are bulls and cows, donkeys and horses, rams and sheep. All making their way in and out of trucks, some of them sold already, and making their way to their new home with new owners, others are being led reluctantly down the hill, up the hill. The children moan and complain ” Well this wasn’t worth getting up early for ! ” 

There are mounds of chicks, all piled on top of each other, with ooh and ahs from the children “ah, can we get one please!” (A quick wind the clock back fifty years and it was me asking the same of my mum and dad in the markets in Mexico, only the chicks were dyed pink and blue.) And then it’s rabbits in all their colours,  puppies squeezed into the pen with the chickens. Can’t imagine why anyone would want to buy a mongrel puppy when there are so many dogs everywhere. Then it’s loads of prized guinea pigs, which are a speciality here,  roasted on the Parilla and served splat out on a plate, teeth and nails intact. We even see a group of men showing off their prized cockerels for cock fighting.  It’s  fascinating, real and raw. 

I think the kids by now have forgiven us the early start to this day and we head to have our favourite roasted pig in the market.

But most of all we are enjoying our little home, shopping in the Indian market, buying strawberries and blackberries by the kilo, from a large wheelbarrow, bring driven through the streets and just enjoying living here, this perfect climate, warm by day and chilly at night.

The children and Mark have Spanish lessons every afternoon. Myra and Juan come to the Hacienda and the lesson starts on the terrace, Mark and Juan more seriously down at one end and Jemima and Gabriel down the other end, with a bit of song and dance and quite a lot of laughter and fun. Jemima’s enthusiasm for learning the language, propelled by wanting her own secret language to communicate to her best friend Sofia (Anglo/Argentine/Mexican) back home.

Millie’s wishes come true when I plant her in front of a screen and I take some time off. 

We are LOVING Ecuador and as we don’t have a flight out of here booked. I can just imagine ourselves whiling away quite a bit of time here.