We pick the perfect time to hit Banos, a small adventure town around the centre of Ecuador. It’s some kind of local election. And in some South American countries, including Ecuador, alcohol is banned to prevent violence in the streets. We try to find anywhere that will serve us a beer. We find one place, who tells us it’s only residents who can’t drink, tourists are fine. Jackpot. We sink some beers and reflect on the last week.
We also need to figure out what to do here in Banos. It is famous for adrenaline activities such as rafting, bungee jumping etc.
After taking a walk around, Alex bumps into a bunch of guys he recognises. I’m totally confused, how has he made friends in Ecuador without me knowing? Turns out, he met them on the bus the day I lost him for a few hours. Anyhow, they are struggling to find alcohol too, so we head back to the only place we know serving it. They are all from England, five of them travelling together. It must be totally awesome travelling with a group of friends, but I know things would have been totally different if I had done this.
Many beers and laughs happen, Alex tries (and fails) to chat up a bunch of drunk Slovakian girls, and we hit the sack.
Our clothes are more than ready for some soap. So the next day we take to the streets with our bin liners. Oddly, a woman spots us and offers to wash it in her house. We agree, nothing like helping out the locals. When we return to pick it up, Alex realises he has a slight crush on the single mother with three children. Embarrassingly, he asks me to translate and see if she’s free the following evening, and whether she’d like to go for a drink with him. She blushes and agrees to the “date”. His argument being, she’s a single mother who probably rarely gets dressed up to go out, especially with a non-Spanish talking gringo half her age…
A little adrenaline
We walk around town looking for our first hit of adrenaline when we stumble upon the bungee jump bridge. I’ve always had a mild fear of heights. But my growing hunger for adrenaline was eventually going to cross heads with my fear. After watching a guy jump for his life, I drop a brick and decide today should be the day; going with the old saying “do one thing every day that scares you”. Alex goes first. When I get strapped up and stand on the platform, looking at the river and rock bed several hundred metres down, I have severe doubts. 
I’ve never done anything so ridiculous in my whole life. Luckily, the instructor knew what he was doing. By the time I’d stood on the platform, he shouted some instructions at me on how to jump and instantly started counting down from three, in an extremely bellowing voice. I knew there were a group of spectators looking on from a viewpoint. Alex was there with his camera. I ended up jumping solely because of the social pressure – well, I guess it worked.
We spend the rest of the day playing football with some Ecuadorian kids in a plaza and predictably, drinking more beer. After some serious convincing due to the language barrier, Alex heads off for his date. The winning argument “Alex, whatever happens, it will make a great story”. No longer than 30 mins later, he’s back in the bar with me. The toy boy was stood up. We drink more beer and the next day we’re ready for more adrenaline.
Avid readers (lol) will know I like to hire a motorbike every now and again. So, after seeing the tours we can take to the mirador a few thousand feet up, we decide to do it our way. Rather than paying out of our asses for busses and shabby tour food, we hire two motorbikes for a few hours and decide to go it alone. Despite the shop owner speculating that we won’t have road or health insurance because “it’s optional in Ecuador”. This time we get 250cc bikes, small engines in the grand scheme of things, but a little bigger than the 50cc we both had at 16… After I’m told off by the shop owner for changing gear too harshly, we set off. Once again, the views were stunning. Ecuador and so far, South America, hasn’t failed to provide tons of spectacular landscapes.
We book a night bus to Ecuador’s famous beach party town, Montanita. Hell was about to go down. In preparation for the long journey, we decide it’s a good idea to get drunk as a sleep aid. So, we find an electronic bar booming out tunes, and remain to be it’s sole customers for the duration of the day. Then, a familiar face shows up. Ceci has completed her Cotopaxi mission and is heading in the same direction. She joins us for drinks and crazy dancing before we head off for our bus. But first, Alex has been tempted by a street full of massage parlours. He heads of for a 90 min massage for what may get you ten minutes in the UK.
After a long bus ride and rough nights sleep, we check into the cheapest shabby hostel we can find and drop off our stuff. It’s around midday and beer is already flowing. I decide to take a beach nap… This is the first time I’ve hit a beach since Colombia’s Caribbean coast back in November. After more beers flow and Alex kicks my ass at pool (this rarely happens…), we ask around to see where the nightlife is at in this place. Bad idea…
It’s a Monday, which apparently is the cheapest and most popular day to party in Montanita. It’s electronic night at the Lost Beach Club. Cutting to the chase, we drink A LOT. Alex manages to accidentally take someone else’s flip-flops home and falls asleep at the club before we crawl back to our hostel.
One final night in Montanita
As we’re recovering from the previous night, Ceci joins us in Montanita for one last crazy night. We grab pizza. I have no idea why my face is so shiny… Perhaps I actually showered for a change. Then, the drinking starts. We head to a few bars and end up in one playing pool with some locals. They invite us along to a beach party, we accept. By the time we get there, we’re a little tipsy to say the least. And Alex is looking particularly worse for wear. By the time we get there, Alex passes out on the floor. I’m a little worried at this point. We are the only tourists/gringos at the beach party, there are some dodgy looking characters around and I feel responsible for the safety of both Alex and Ceci. Especially after what happened in Quito…
Alex comes around and starts to throw the craziest dance moves. After a few hours of owning the dance floor, we get ready to leave. Then, I make perhaps the saddest discovery of my whole travels. My Jesus sandals are nowhere to be seen. I search hard but to no avail. Montanita had taken my favourite item of clothing. I go home with teary eyes.
After a difficult, emotional goodbye with Alex, I leave the airport and head back into Quito for one last night whilst I figure my shit out. I check into the only hostel I know, the Color House Hostel. Who do I find there? Nope, not Ceci, not this time. This time it’s Josh, one of the guys we hung around with in Quito a few weeks ago, one that joined us to the club. He’s considering going north to Colombia the next day. Somehow, we convince each other that the best idea is to go all the way back down south and head back to Montanita – crazy.
Why? Because the coming weekend is carnival. A annual event in South America where locals basically let their hair down, and then some, for three long days. Aleah, the friend from San Carlos and Guatape in Colombia was there. It had been a while. Some other friends were also there. Manny & Lisa who we went on the three day Quilotoa trek with. Andrea (Chilean girl we met in Quito) completed the list of people I knew in Montanita all on the same weekend.
First though, I eat my weight in free chocolate samples at Republica Del Cacao, quite possibly the best shop in the whole universe. Now. I don’t accept donations for all the entertainment I give you guys, but, should you ever feel generous, 70-80% cacao chocolate bars with coffee nibs will give you a lifetimes kindness and favours from me. Come Christmas time, we’ll see which members of my friends & family really do read my blog ;). My second job before heading back to Montanita? An impossible task. To replace my Jesus sandals. I go for (arguably) the next best thing, Crocs sandals. $40 later, I’m all set.
Minus a three hour delay at the bus station because of carnival weekend mayhem, and Josh having his iPhone pick-pocketed on a busy metro bus, the journey was pretty normal. We arrive at Montanita, round two.
The first day is pretty normal. We get hassled by locals (pics with women), can’t find our hostel because Google Maps is lying and begin to drink ourselves into a small but calculated mess. Before arranging to meet, I bump into Aleah. Out of all the bars in Montanita…
At this point, every man and his dog has a canister filled of foam, and every man and his dog is being covered in the stuff. It smelt like some kind of delicate balance between candy and cat sick. I had to get in on the action, how often can you shoot complete strangers with foam and get a smile in return? Naturally, I had to find the biggest, most powerful canister available, at a small cost. Later I find Andrea and spend the night dancing in the sandpit dance floor place, Josh casually disappears. Later we bump into Manny, Lisa & Aleah at a beach party, turns out they all know each other – weird.
This is when things get strange. At the end of the night, I’m innocently searching under a table on the beach where I left my NEW Crocs flip-flops. Nowhere to be seen, someone, again, in Montanita, had actually purposely moved or taken them. This isn’t the strange bit, though. As I’m looking under said table. A guy who is sat on said table, thinks it’s acceptable to gently squeeze my manhood. What a way to introduce yourself? For half a second as I am establishing what the **** just happened, I look at him and can see he thinks it’s totally routine and a little funny. Out of pure confusion and shock, my instinct is to slap him around the face. Yes, a proper bitch slap, it made the most satisfying noise. That wiped the smugness off. Completely confused as to perhaps my most feminine act ever, I walk home bare foot and at 4am, find Josh still awake at the hostel. Another successful night in Montanita. Think it can’t get worse?
The next day we hang around the beach, play some foot-tennis, eat chocolate brownies and drink a lot of beer. Pretty standard. After a rather tame evening (for Montanita’s standards) drinking cocktails and getting covered in sick flavoured foam, I’m walking home with Josh. I’m a little drunk, nothing unusual. Minding my own business, I’m suddenly hit by something. Something hard, like I’ve just been punched in the head. After regaining my understanding of the world, I look around. There is nobody anywhere, just Josh a few steps ahead. Extremely confused, I keep looking. Then I spot it. A dangling cable from a broken streetlight. Yep. I’d just been electrocuted. Just when I thought Montanita had done enough damage. Two pairs of flip-flops, a squeeze of my downstairs package, and now an electric shock.
After apprehending I’d just been shocked, I remember the similarity in the sensation to that of an experience I had at around eight years old. I was trying to replace a broken light-bulb in my desk lamp but didn’t turn off the power. I only made this mistake once. I realised it gave the same sensation, only this time on my head…
After an over-due catch with Aleah, the wrath of Montanita had prompted me to move on. Josh and I say our goodbyes at Guayaquil bus station and head our separate ways. I look forward to a quiet, eventless few days…
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