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Latacunga was a kind of last minute decision before heading to the coast, and the only real reason I decided to go was because of the unique electric blue lake rumoured to be a couple of hours from the town. Latacunga doesn't have alot going for it unfortunately. It is a place that doesn't get alot of foreigners. The hostels were really expensive (more so than I had experienced previously), though I did find one, and would you believe it, there were pet turtles!! The usual late night struggle to find something to eat was on, and I settled, sadly, for a couple of meat and potato skewers with a salsa from a woman on the road, praying that my stomach would pull through and be ok.
The next morning I was on a bus nice and early with the intention of traveling to Quilotoa to see the lake. This was going to be a lengthy process, as it required a couple of changeovers to get there. The buses passed some great little farms along the way though, with farmers hopping off the bus in the most unusual of areas (sides of hillalopes etc), with their children as well as bags upon bags of tools, feed and other agricultural items used to tend to their harvest. After what seemed like forvever, I had made it to the lake, or at least the top of the crater. The unfortunate thing about the lake is that it is set at the bottom of a volcanic crater. It is an amazing sight from the top. The electric blue water shimmering below is enchanting, so much so that you can't help but be lured to the water level, no matter how much you know you'll be ruined making it back up. On sunnier days than this, it is even more luminescent. In less than an hour I was at the bottom, found a nice patch of grass and just sat eating nuts for an hour or so. There were people kayaking, and swimming. My knees were shredded from doing a half walk/slide to the bottom (it was so steep) but I was happy to be there and enjoy the beauty in what almost was a secluded spot.
Whilst dreading the inevitable ascent, I bit the bullet and powered up the winding, sharply inclined path to the top. 45 minutes later and I had made it in PB time. I took some more snaps at the lookout before wandering to where the bus stop was rumoured to be, although waiting for half an hour with some other travellers we scored a good deal to the next town in the back of a local truck, as we were unsure of when the next bus would arrive. The story swapping and good times was a constructive way to pass the time until our arrival back to Zumbahua.
After the dreadful busride to Latacunga I was eager to get to the coast for the cold beers and hot sun. With my ticket to Manta booked, all that could be done was eat some good street treats, pack and make the journey to the bus on the other side of town. My relaxed mood was unsettled abruptly when the bus arrived at 9pm, packed (as usual) and not even able to fit bags underneath. I sat with my huge bag on my lap for the entire ride, half suffocating, half hating life and finding it extremely difficult to sleep, if at all. To add to this it got unbearably hot once we had left the Andes ranges. Another two things you can be guaranteed of with a bus ride - Traffic accidents and crying babies, but it's just something you find a way to enjoy. Lake Quilotoa for me was the shining jewel in an otherwise drab region. Don't get me wrong, I did enjoy the experience, but Latacunga is not a place I could linger in for very long.
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