Ecuador | 10 Places | 20 People

With such a beautifully diverse landscape, wandering through this small South America country was an incredibly unique and demanding experience. Ecuador may only be the size of Colorado but what it lacks in size it certainly makes up for in character. 

Traveling 14 miles from Quito, the worlds second highest capital in terms of elevation to a nearby hot springs “resort” nestled deep in the woods took hours. And once there, traversing the hilly terrain at an altitude of 12,000+ feet was no easy task. But soaking in volcanic runoff, eating trout caught moments before being prepared and sleeping next to a humming waterfall eased all hardships faced. Heading down the mountain to the coast provided a challenge that could break any seasoned adventurer. Just imagine spending 10 hours overnight on a crowded bus where only women were allowed to use the bathroom and that’s only after they convinced the driver that no solid waste would be expelled. On top of that, every so often disco lights and blaring music would fill the cabin as well as the noise of a restless passenger who would yell “Pelicula. Pelicula” whenever he woke from a nap. This is how some prison camps are portrayed in your favorite Hollywood blockbusters.

When the bus finally reached sea-level, we hopped off into the pre-dawn darkness that is 5 a.m. It was pouring, and after some sleepy negotiation we jumped into electric tricycles that could barely handle the muddy streets of Puerto Lopez. We eventually made it to the apartment we were staying in with the gracious help of our Italian ex-pat host Giuseppe. It took him only moments after arriving to offer to sell the place to us for $150,000. Oh did I mention, that in addition to the four adults (including myself) traveling, we we’re also carting along a 2 year old and nine month old?

This is just a glimpse into the two weeks I spent in Ecuador this past winter with my wife, daughter, our two friends, and their son. Please check back soon for a full trip report.

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Papallacta, Ecuador

Antisana, Ecuador

Cuenca, Ecuador

Guayaquil, Ecuado

Quito, Ecuador

Progreso, Ecudor

Playas, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Playas, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

Cuenca, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

Puerto Lopez, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

Guayaquil. Ecuador

Cuenca, Ecuador

Cuenca, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

Quito, Ecuador

Dave and Buddy. Fishermen.

It was a beautiful day today and I had a few spare hours this afternoon so I decided to head down to South Philly in search of something to photograph along the Delaware River.  I find myself shooting down there quite often. It’s a pretty photogenic area and it seems each wander I go out on I find a new and interesting subject. Today I parked just along the entrance to Pier 68. When I got to the edge of the platform a man aboard a tug boat called out to me.  He seemed pretty chipper and just wanted to chat. His job that day had him piloting the boat from the dock to the middle of the river where an oil barge called the Chesapeake was anchored. That’s it. Just back and forth multiple times a day. I didn’t catch his name but if I had more time I would have talked my way on board. Next time. As our conversation trailed off, an older fisherman sitting in a camping chair opposite the boat waved invitingly over to me. There were no immediate introductions. We just started having a conversation as if we were picking up where we left off the day before. He was surrounded by gear one would use to fish in various stages of wear as well and other random items like a bag of unopened Rice Krispies and Walmart shopping carts. I eventually asked him his name as the conversation was getting rather intimate. Dave is Korean and has lived in Philadelphia for 34 years. Or was it 43? Either way he left Korea behind when he was a young man and hasn’t returned. Despite having lived stateside longer than I’ve been alive he still spoke with a rather thick accent and I had trouble making out some of what he said. I did gather quite quickly that he is rather devout as the topic settled on god. He was a little taken aback when I told him I lean more towards the agnostic but understood my point of view. I asked him which particular sect of christianity he followed. He told me none. He wasn’t catholic, protestant, snake handler or presbyterian. He said he simply followed the word of god. I liked that. I honestly don’t understand all the divisions within the religion anyway. It’s all just jesus isn’t it? At this point another man walked up and plopped himself into a chair adjacent to the river. He didn’t seem at all concerned with this random photographer hanging about and just started chatting with us as if he was privy to the entire conversation. His name was Buddy I think. Well that’s what Dave told me at least. Buddy, a lifelong Philadelphian is probably sixty to seventy years old. He’s very soft spoken, polite and knowledgable about fishing. He had just returned with more beef livers to use as catfish bait. Despite being happy to chat he didn’t want me taking his picture. The only explanation he gave was that he was playing hooky from work and didn’t want to get caught. I assured him these photos would only end up on my blog which maybe three people read. Dave at this point started talking about his younger days. He had been an avid photographer and purchased an underwater camera to take out on fishing trips back in Korea.  He then reached into his backpack and pulled out about ten folded pages with incredible black and white images of young men fishing in the 1960’s. He named a few of the men as his relatives and pointed out a few shots of himself. They were stunning. I assumed that Dave and Buddy had been fishing together at this spot for decades however they’d only connected recently. Dave had been calling Pier 68 his personal fishing spot for years and Buddy was stationed at the next pier down just fifty feet away. A recent influx of new anglers forced Buddy to move. Dave called Buddy’s spot North Korea, his spot South Korea and the water separating the two the DMZ. I wanted to ask him more about life in Korea before he emigrated but he didn’t seem to want to go down that road. He just kept saying how Philadelphia and the United States are the best places in the world. We chatted a bit more about bread, beer, politics and how to properly bait a hook. I had to get going said my goodbye’s and walked off just as casually as I’d come, assuming that no proper farewell was needed as next time I visit we’ll just fall back into the same old comfortable conversation.

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