5th June 2024

The four hours we spent in our rather sumptuous Holiday Inn room yielded little in the way of sleep. We hit the pillows around 1 a.m. and were up again by 4 a.m. to shower, drink coffee, and prepare for another day of travelling. Despite our exhaustion, our minds continued to churn with the events of the past two days, wondering what further obstacles might arise to frustrate this long-anticipated bucket list adventure.

We met Linda, our fellow Exoticca traveller from Peterborough, in the hotel reception, where we collected our packed breakfasts, and followed our driver out to the minibus. Just as we boarded, the rain began. We were quietly pleased to see that our driver had brought along his wife and child to accompany us on the five-hour journey to Tena and the Suchipakari Lodge.

Our journey began in darkness and grew increasingly treacherous as we left the city behind, climbing into the mountains and the clouds. Though traffic was sparse, the road conditions were alarming, mudslides and rockfalls loomed hidden in the gloom and fog around every sharp bend. The rain was relentless, clearly having fallen for several days. Rivers of water surged across the road, and we glimpsed cascading waterfalls on either side as we wound our way perilously close to sheer drops. At one point, we came upon a fresh rockfall strewn across the carriageway, with the rear end of a lorry hanging dangerously over a cliff edge. Several drivers from nearby trucks and cars stood watching anxiously, their headlights illuminating the unfolding scene. We did not stop; we sped on.

As we descended and left the mountainous terror behind, dawn broke, and the outlines of the Ecuadorian landscape began to reveal themselves, shadowy buildings slipping past, shapes emerging from the mist. The nervous chatter of the mountainous stretch gave way to silence as we absorbed the scenery. A short stop at a petrol station for a toilet break gave us a glimpse of local life: a large group of police cadets jogged past in sports gear, chanting in unison behind their instructor, flanked by two police cars bringing up the rear.

Later, our progress slowed to a crawl behind groups of schoolchildren who appeared to be taking part in a cross-country race along the main road. A small truck followed them, picking up those too exhausted to continue. Eventually, we passed them at a junction, where they continued on foot towards some unseen finish line. None, it must be said, looked like Olympic hopefuls.

With just over nine kilometres to go, the roughly tarmacked road vanished, giving way to an increasingly rocky and uncomfortable cart track. In a clearing, we came across several parked vehicles and came to a stop. As if by magic, a man with a wheelbarrow appeared, promptly loaded our cases into it, and set off along a narrow path through the forest, beckoning us to follow. Leaving our minibus driver and his family behind, we obliged. After a few hundred metres, we arrived at the lodge.

We were warmly greeted by the staff and offered breakfast. The rest of the group, whom we had yet to meet, were out on a jungle walk and returned just as we were finishing our meal. First impressions suggested that many of them were American, elderly, and somewhat infirm, though time would tell whether that observation held true.

Having had very little sleep over the past few days, we retired to our room. Sue took the opportunity for a nap, while I battled fatigue by attempting, unsuccessfully, to complete an online claim form against British Airways for the debacle of a few days prior.

At 1 p.m., as the rest of the group returned from a jungle ramble, we headed to the restaurant for lunch, which featured a variety of local produce, some of which we couldn’t quite identify, but the meal was flavoursome and satisfying. The rain, which hadn’t let up all morning, grew heavier during our meal. Shortly afterwards, Sue opted to join a small group heading out for another jungle walk, while I returned to the room and, with a bit of perseverance (and perhaps growing expertise), finally managed to complete the BA claim form.

I had just finished when a rather bedraggled Sue returned, umbrella in hand and full of tales about birds, frogs, butterflies, and jungle flowers.

That evening, we joined the full group for dinner in the lodge’s restaurant. Apart from ourselves, Linda, and another couple, originally British but now long settled in the USA, the rest of the group turned out to be American. There are a few younger travellers in their twenties, but most are advancing in years, and two gentlemen in particular seem decidedly frail, one of whom relies on a wheelchair.

After the meal, we three newcomers were treated to a night walk through the rainforest with one of the lodge staff. Although the rain had stopped, we were still issued with Wellington boots, as the path was extremely muddy and slippery. We spent nearly an hour illuminating a variety of small creatures with our torches, spiders, frogs, crickets, caterpillars, and the like. The largest animals we encountered were a pair of sizeable bats, flitting about a forest clearing in pursuit of moths. We had hoped to spot a snake or two, but the rain had made conditions too cool for them to be active, so we were out of luck.

The lodges themselves are spacious, comfortable, and equipped with all modern conveniences. As it is the start of the rainy season, and with rainfall throughout much of the day, there was no sign of mosquitoes to disturb our sleep with their high-pitched whines and irritating bites. So, thoroughly tired from the day’s journey, we returned to our room and slept soundly.

6th June 2024

We were showered, packed, and at breakfast by 7 a.m. A light drizzle hung in the air. Due to the chaos caused by our delayed BA flight, we had managed barely half a day in the upper Amazon rainforest, while our fellow travellers had enjoyed two full days. Now, we were about to retrace our route back to Quito, though thankfully this time in daylight.

Our small bus had comfortable seats, but the soft suspension meant we bounced around rather erratically over the rougher sections of road. Disappointingly, it drizzled for much of the journey through the mountains, but at least we could now admire the spectacular scenery that had been hidden from us just the day before. The many rivers and streams we crossed or followed were in full flow, tumbling over boulders as they rushed through narrow, forested ravines, often throwing up plumes of spray in their churning, frothy descent. From higher up, the waterfalls were too numerous to count, each one plunging dramatically into unseen pools below, their locations betrayed only by the rising mist that steamed into the surrounding canopy.

We stopped once to stretch our legs and use the toilets at a petrol station in a small valley community. There, I struck up a conversation with a local man who spoke excellent English. I soon learned he was 75 years old, had lived in Canada for several years (explaining his fluency), and was immensely proud of his five children, one still in Canada and the other four now living in the UK. He was particularly pleased to mention his eleven grandchildren. It felt remarkably like being back in Yorkshire, where you know everyone’s business within minutes of saying hello!

As we eventually cleared the mountains and began the long descent towards Quito, the scenery changed dramatically. The vista of sodden, moss-covered trees gave way to dry soil and cacti, clear evidence that it hadn’t rained on this side of the mountains for some months. Upon reaching the outskirts of the capital, we passed our hotel from two nights earlier and continued on to visit the ‘Middle of the Earth’.

Located in San Antonio, 26 kilometres north of Quito’s centre, the site includes the Monument to the Equator, which marks the approximate location of the equatorial line, after which the country is named. It also commemorates the 18th-century Franco-Spanish Geodesic Mission, which first calculated its position.

No sooner had we arrived than it was time for lunch, but first came a tasting of local fruits, which Sue and I both thoroughly enjoyed. We sat with Linda and the two ex-Brits and chatted over what turned out to be a very good meal. I washed mine down with a delicious Ecuadorian dark craft ale.

Afterwards, we had just over an hour to explore what is Ecuador’s most visited tourist site. However, apart from our small group, there were few others around to enjoy it. After the obligatory photos in front of the monument, we took the lift to the top and captured more shots of the surrounding landscape. Several extinct volcanoes were visible, with clouds appearing to pour from their hidden calderas and drift ominously down the slopes before dissipating as if by magic.

We then drifted through several of the inevitable tourist trinket shops, though bought nothing, before visiting the ‘Chocolate Museum’, where, unsurprisingly, we did buy something. The spoils, however, didn’t last long, as we greedily devoured them before making it back to our transport.

By 4 p.m., the group had reassembled, and we drove on to our hotel for the night: the Mercure Alameda.

Utterly exhausted, we checked in and unwound in our room, readying ourselves for yet another flight in the morning.