Nightmare Bus Ride
I had a plan. There was to be a midnight bus from Atacames back to Quito and from there, I would get another to the artesania capital of Ecuador, Otavalo, where I would spend the day at the enormous Saturday markets. Then, in the afternoon, I would catch a bus back to Quito and finally, from Quito an international bus into Columbia. It was a good plan, as far as I figured.
Now usually, when things present themselves as difficult to me, I back off and procrastinate attempting again. I don't particularly like this about me, so I once in a while come across opportunities to go against my natural tendencies. Sometimes, change sucks.
When I turned up at the bus office over half an hour early to buy a bus ticket, they told me the bus was full. Fighting the urge to skulk back to the hostel and wait another day, I instead forged ahead, looking for an alternative.
The other bus companies told me that their next buses would leave at about 6am, which was unacceptable for me, so I went back to the first for some strange reason, hoping something might be done. The ticket man took pity on me and said that a seat might open up and told me to wait until the bus came. When it did, I found that I wasn't the only one without a seat. A gentleman and a lady were also hoping for a seat to open up.
A seat did open up, and the lady got it. The man sat up in the cockpit with the driver, and I was provided with an upturned 40L plastic bucket to sit on at the end of the aisle. At least I was on my way to Quito... some 8 hours away, that is.
I started nodding off and was awakened when someone wanted to use the toilet, the door of which I was leaning against. I got up with some difficulty. Not because I was sleepy, but because the bucket was stuck to my ass. There was chewing gum on the bucket.
Annoyed, I pushed the bucket away and decided to sit on the floor. It was actually very comfortable because my legs were stretched and I was able to rest my head on the soft back of a bus seat. I got a few hours sleep... until the idiot in the seat in front thought that an open tetra pack of milk would remain upright on the floor of a bumpy and swervy bus. I was woken up by an ass wet with spilled milk. Not happy, Jan!!
I spent the rest of the bus ride sitting on the bucket since the comfortable floor was wet with milk, becoming more and more grumpy as Quito approached. At the north bus terminal of the city, half the passengers alighted and, relieved and exhausted, I gratefully took an empty seat, feeling the annoying stiffness of my pant ass, the milk now quite dry.
During the half hour journey to the south bus terminal, Quitumbes, I developed a plan in my head for the morning. Wash the crap of my pants, find out when the bus leaves for Columbia, then find out when the bus leaves for Otavalo. Finally, we pulled into Quitumbes and I raced out, keen for clean pants again. I had already paid to go into the toilets when I realized that I left my shoulder sling bag in the bus.
I ran back down to the platform, but the bus was gone, so I talked to the man at the company's desk and after a while, he was able to contact the driver who denied that it was there. In that moment, I lost my iPod, my phrasebook and the thing I missed the most, the bag itself. It was a great souvenir from the Peruvian jungle that I liked quite a lot. I felt defeated, like nothing more could possibly go wrong, but then we were up to the fourth thing, which could only mean that there were two more to compete the second lot of "Bad Luck In Threes".
After rinsing off the milk from my pants and drying it under the automatic hand drier, I went into the mercado area of the terminal for something to eat. My breakfast consisted of unsalted scrambled eggs, a gross cheese sandwich and bad coffee. Really bad coffee. I'm talking warmed up reconstituted powdered milk with a teaspoon of instant coffee stirred in.
After breakfast, I used the internet to research bus companies into Colombia and jotted down the address of two of them. Additionally, I asked at the ticket booths when the buses head into Colombia. The answer I wanted was sometime in the evening, not five in the morning the next day. Also, I learned that the bus to Otavalo leaves from the north bus terminal where I could've gotten off.
I took an expensive cab to one of the international bus company offices only to find that it was closed. Sick of the run of bad luck I had in such a short span of time, I made a decision to spend the night at the Quitumbes terminal until 5am when the bus to Columbia would take me away from all of this. Meanwhile, it was off to the Saturday markets of Otavalo.
Now usually, when things present themselves as difficult to me, I back off and procrastinate attempting again. I don't particularly like this about me, so I once in a while come across opportunities to go against my natural tendencies. Sometimes, change sucks.
Bad Luck Number One
When I turned up at the bus office over half an hour early to buy a bus ticket, they told me the bus was full. Fighting the urge to skulk back to the hostel and wait another day, I instead forged ahead, looking for an alternative.
The other bus companies told me that their next buses would leave at about 6am, which was unacceptable for me, so I went back to the first for some strange reason, hoping something might be done. The ticket man took pity on me and said that a seat might open up and told me to wait until the bus came. When it did, I found that I wasn't the only one without a seat. A gentleman and a lady were also hoping for a seat to open up.
Bad Luck Number Two
A seat did open up, and the lady got it. The man sat up in the cockpit with the driver, and I was provided with an upturned 40L plastic bucket to sit on at the end of the aisle. At least I was on my way to Quito... some 8 hours away, that is.
I started nodding off and was awakened when someone wanted to use the toilet, the door of which I was leaning against. I got up with some difficulty. Not because I was sleepy, but because the bucket was stuck to my ass. There was chewing gum on the bucket.
Bad Luck Number Three
Annoyed, I pushed the bucket away and decided to sit on the floor. It was actually very comfortable because my legs were stretched and I was able to rest my head on the soft back of a bus seat. I got a few hours sleep... until the idiot in the seat in front thought that an open tetra pack of milk would remain upright on the floor of a bumpy and swervy bus. I was woken up by an ass wet with spilled milk. Not happy, Jan!!
Bad Luck Number Four
I spent the rest of the bus ride sitting on the bucket since the comfortable floor was wet with milk, becoming more and more grumpy as Quito approached. At the north bus terminal of the city, half the passengers alighted and, relieved and exhausted, I gratefully took an empty seat, feeling the annoying stiffness of my pant ass, the milk now quite dry.
During the half hour journey to the south bus terminal, Quitumbes, I developed a plan in my head for the morning. Wash the crap of my pants, find out when the bus leaves for Columbia, then find out when the bus leaves for Otavalo. Finally, we pulled into Quitumbes and I raced out, keen for clean pants again. I had already paid to go into the toilets when I realized that I left my shoulder sling bag in the bus.
I ran back down to the platform, but the bus was gone, so I talked to the man at the company's desk and after a while, he was able to contact the driver who denied that it was there. In that moment, I lost my iPod, my phrasebook and the thing I missed the most, the bag itself. It was a great souvenir from the Peruvian jungle that I liked quite a lot. I felt defeated, like nothing more could possibly go wrong, but then we were up to the fourth thing, which could only mean that there were two more to compete the second lot of "Bad Luck In Threes".
Bad Luck Number Five
After rinsing off the milk from my pants and drying it under the automatic hand drier, I went into the mercado area of the terminal for something to eat. My breakfast consisted of unsalted scrambled eggs, a gross cheese sandwich and bad coffee. Really bad coffee. I'm talking warmed up reconstituted powdered milk with a teaspoon of instant coffee stirred in.
Bad Luck Number Six
After breakfast, I used the internet to research bus companies into Colombia and jotted down the address of two of them. Additionally, I asked at the ticket booths when the buses head into Colombia. The answer I wanted was sometime in the evening, not five in the morning the next day. Also, I learned that the bus to Otavalo leaves from the north bus terminal where I could've gotten off.
I took an expensive cab to one of the international bus company offices only to find that it was closed. Sick of the run of bad luck I had in such a short span of time, I made a decision to spend the night at the Quitumbes terminal until 5am when the bus to Columbia would take me away from all of this. Meanwhile, it was off to the Saturday markets of Otavalo.
ahh!! that's some terrible luck... it can only get better now. keep focusing on enjoying your holiday.. how was ur xmas? what'd you do?
ReplyDeleteit was really different this year. you were gone, mum and dad were gone, lara was gone, neil was gone and maylene was gone too. so me leah and nelly had dinner then fell asleep cause we were all so tired..
hope ur well!! try and skype me on aidee.lucero before i leave for the phils! on the 6th.
also, i applied for nursing, but i don't think i'll get it. i'm gonna stick with the anaesthetic course and do nursing in 2012!!