Ecuador seems to specialize in coming up with unique and various ways to wake a person up early in the morning. I've been shaken from slumber by roosters, car horns, yelling, and now extremely insistent and apparently directly outside my hotel room door, church bells. For a country where nothing opens until 9 or 10, they sure like to make certain everyone is awake by 6:30.

***

At the backpacker type places, everyone seems to know each other. All these people from all over the world seem to cling to each other. I don't think it matters what country you're in, the foreigners conglomerate. I feel a little out of place among them. For one, they all seem to have developed a rather rapid connection from having encountered each other in different spots around the country while I've never seen a single one of them before in my life. It seems very cliquey. Secondly, I'm clearly not the most social person in these situations, as evidenced by the fact that I'm sitting, writing in my book instead of inviting myself to a table. It's kind of a circular thing - I feel out of place because because I'm not involved and I don't get involved because I feel out of place. There's also the realization that I don't necessarily need or even want to become involved in that little world, and yet I somehow feel like I'm missing out on something. I hate to feel like there's something eluding me, even if it's something I don't particularly care about. I guess that makes me a bit insane, doesn't it?

***

I could really learn to like Cuenca. Despite the fact that most of the stores were closed, denying me my touristy consumer self-debasement, I loved wandering about today. It's really a beautiful colonial / new city. It's a whole lot cleaner and tidier than any other Ecuadorian city I've visited (an admittedly low number) and it has a character to it that the other cities (Quito, Riobamba, and Cañar) have lacked. Yes, even Quito, in my opinion, lacks something that Cuanca has. Quito was great, but was quite a bit more hectic and dirty feeling.

In some ways, Cuenca actually reminded me of Vancouver. Sure, it's nowhere near the coast, at an altitude more than twice as high as the top of Grouse Mountain, and has been continuously occupied as a major center for over 500 years (perhaps even more than 1000-2000 - I'm not sure; what do you think I am, some sort of archaeologist or something?), but the way the the mountains crowded the north of the city, even the gaps and valleys in those mountains and the way the rain clouds were corralled and guided by the north mountains had me feeling a bit homesick.

We were able to see the entire city from above when José-Luis took us to a place called Turi, a town (or nieghborhood of Cuenca) which clings to the bluffs above the south end of town.

Before we did that, though, we went to the Banco Central Museum, where José-Luis used to work. It was alright. somewhat underwhelming. The grounds out back had the Inca ruind of Pumapunga, including an interpretation of the gardens it was supposed to have had. It took some pictures of quinoa and amaranth (they're quite colourful) plus some of a pack of kittens living by the mini-zoo.

We had lunch at a restaurant called Restaurante Tipica. José-Luis ordered enough food to feed a family of seven. It was good, but didn't seem overly typical (although my experience with Ecuadorian cuisine is still pretty limited). The potato soup was delicious, despite the large flaps of pig skin. The fava beans were pretty dull and unadorned. What Jim and I thought were some sort of bean but turned out to be corn mixed with egg on one plate and with fried onion of another were quite good (the onion one was better). However, the best bit was the well seasoned, grilled, very thin slices of pork. Good stuff.

Anyway, after that we did the city view at Turi then José-Luis dropped us off by the river near the old town. Jim and I wandered around then came back to the hotel. Not sure what tonight will be about. there's still no booze being served anywhere in the entire country due to the election tomorrow, so going to the bar is out (my fears of stumbling over my own feet attempting to salsa dance are now alleviated). Perhaps it will be another hang out oa Cafécito night again, maybe even attempting to be sociable with strangers. We'll see.

***

This country has the best blackberry juice ever squeezed. I could drink it by the gallon. We'll see if the burrito I ordered lives up to the standard the juice has set.

***

The burrito was pretty good, but the juice was so incredible that anything else couldn't help but pale in comparison.

***

I think I'm just writing at this point to keep myself occupied. It's either that or creep people out by staring at them.

***

I decided to go for a wander through this strange city in the dark rather than sit by myself. Both options, as it turned out, were wastes of time. While it was nice to stretch my legs and get some air, there's absolutely nothing going on out there. This is one dead city the night before an election. Damn you, democracy!

***

We tried again. I met up with Jim back at Cafécito and we re-read the guide book. It said that the bars tend not to open until 10:00. So, we had some tea and waited it out then hit the streets again. Our hopes were to find a place that had live music to offset the lack of alcohol. But no, it seems like all the bars just shut down for the weekend.

After our hour hour aimless wander through the empty streets of Cuenca, we went back to Cafécito to find a small police presence and everyone being booted out. We got our room key and cloistered ourselves without delving too deeply into what was going on.

***

This has been a strange weekend. I can't imagine what would happen in Canada if they decided to forbid the sale of alcohol for the two days before and the day of an election. Oh well, looks like another early night and it's likely for the best as I'm sure the church bells are going to kick in nice an early on a Sunday morning.