If looks could kill...

Slowly travelling into Ecuador, the first thing we notice is that the people seem to be a lot more friendly. They smile and wave at us. It's a refreshing relief from the poverty and dirt of Peru and arriving in the beautiful little town of Cuenca, things seem quite Americanised, sort of familiar. Nice new pick-up trucks and big country homes seem plentiful and florsits and jeans shops are abundant. We find a really nice hostal and settle in for a few days. After purchasing a new pair of jeans we decided to go for a stroll around the city. It's on our way back from the snake, spider and caiman zoo that the attacks start. Unfortunately, as it's approaching Carnaval time, the local children like to throw waterbombs at people, or shoot them with a water pistol. All this as their laughing parents look on. We didn't realise at the time that it was for Carnaval, a bit like Guy Fawkes night and fireworks, and after narrowly missing being drenched by three water bombs from a balcony above us, I decide it's time to turn the corner and get off that street. Only to walk straight into a drive by water bomb attack. A teenager had pelted me, not only completely drenching me, but winding me in the process. After recovering from that attack, filthy looks were being shot everywhere and we hole up in an internet cafe for a while to dry out and calm down.


On the way back to the hotel, little children were running scared as I gave them a 'Don't even F ing think about shooting me with that water pistol otherwise I'll shove it somewhere you won't see it for a while' Unfortunately this only seemed to work on the younger children.


Enroute to Baños, the town, not the toilet, we are attacked several more times. It doesn't seem too bad now that we know it's for Carnaval and it's also warmed up a bit. I use the technique that I have developed at getting past mad dogs, to get past the children by the side of the road with buckets of water. Slow down a little bit so you can see what direction they're going to go, and just when they think they've got you, give it some gas and get out of there. Most of the time this works but sometimes you get a refresshing drenching.


Also enroute we pass an Africa Twin. Mark and Daisy, from Brighton, (www.markincyberspace.com) are heading the opposite direction. The usual 5 minute pull over and chat turns into over an hour of standing by the side of the road swapping stories, email addresses and advice on where to stay and where to go and watch out for dodgy police in Northern Peru. It was a shame to say goodbye as A: they weren't German and B: they were a great laugh as we joked about being asked if we were German all of the time. (Sorry Andreas and Kristina but everybody asks that)

Mark and Daisy

As a result, we only make it to Riobamba for the night. Things happen for a reason and we stop in at the hostal Mark and Daisy had recommended. There we find a Dutch couple and a Swiss fellow. We've got the deluxe room with the tweest four poster bed ever and a kitchenette, and the offer of pancakes from the Dutch couple is too much to resist. Anything but chicken and rice. So we decide to skip any sightseeing and stay in for beers, pancakes and a good chat.