Dee feeding the Llama in Bogota

Saturday, May 7, 2011

Directo? Siii, Directo!




The cab swerved to dodged in an ‘S’ turn to simultaneously avoid the scooter and the three pedestrians, themselves darting for the curb to avoid being a hood ornament.  Driving head on to the border control, our cabbie enthusiastically pointed to the CIFA bus we had spent the afternoon chasing for 200km across the northern tip of Peru.


After our hellacious bus experience en route to Mancora 4 days earlier we were determined to buck up and book the Direct bus service from Mancora to Cuenca, Ecuador.  So we thought…
Arriving at the bus company in advance of the departure we learned we, along with two others did not have seats.  It turned out the bus is rarely full so the company doesn’t bother to ‘keep’ reservations.  Despite the frustration I was reminded of the Seinfeld where Jerry arrives to find his luxury rental car reservation has not been held.  “Any one can TAKE a reservation!” Jerry exclaims,   “The key is to HOLD the reservation…” Well here we are.

We got the message that the company would arrange a taxi service to take us – fishy as it was an eight hour bus and the other couple was heading to a different city – to our destination.  We watched our bus roll away, worried we may be spending the afternoon watching traffic fly by the Pan-American highway. 
Ten minutes later a bright red motor coach skidded to a dusty halt, a young Peruvian with a Hurley hat half screwed on his head and Oakley shades shouting “Cuenca, Cuenca, Cuenca” and gesturing to us to hop aboard.  Big taxi!  

All buses in South America, from luxury motor coaches to ramshackle collectivos that litter Bolivia and Peru have a driver and at least one assistant/ tout.  These touts have provided us with much entertain as they busy themselves checking luggage, handling food service, all while trying to keep the bus as full as possible.  Upon entering any town or cross roads the buses slow while the touts shout and point to would be passengers lining the road.  While there seems to be an understanding among the locals as to the cost of service, it seems, like anything here,  up to negotiation.

Finding a seat the tout assured we would get to our destination at the prescribed time.
  “Este directo?” I asked.  

“Siiiii, directo.” He replied. Gringo, would there be any other kind?

Arriving at Peru’s northern-most town of Tumbes we found ourselves being directed by the tout off the bus for a waiting Moto-cab.  We sped off – to where we were unsure – with the tout standing on the back directing traffic, guarding our bags, and berating the driver we must have taken the wrong route.  Next, our bag and us were squeezed into a taxi and we sped off to the border some 20km away, all the while the tout telling us we would make our bus.

The cab swerved to dodged in an ‘S’ turn to avoid simultaneously avoid the scooter and the three pedestrians, themselves darting for the curb to avoid being a hood ornament.  Driving head on for the border control, our cabbie enthusiastically pointed to the CIFA bus we had spent the afternoon chasing for 200km across the northern tip of Peru.

Skidding to a stop next our bus we jumped out, being directed to get our passport stamped by Peruvian authorities before shuffling on the bus we were supposed to be on 3 hours ago.  We sped off north, quickly finding ourselves in another town, weaving slowly through 3 blocks of fruit stands and make shift lunch spots.  We had no idea whether we were in Peru or Ecuador, at least we were moving North.  The bus stopped quickly to the call of ‘Cuenca, Cuenca, Cuenca” and we found ourselves disembarking, grabbing our packs for the 5th time since the direct bus began and crossing a dusty street to yet another bus company. 

We confirmed we were now in Ecuador and just one more ‘direct’ bus to Cuenca.  Pullman Sucre – as we are find to out named for the popular 19th century liberator of Ecuador – would provide the wheels, just an hour wait.  We found a lunch spot to kill some time before us and five other passengers drove off at 4pm for the 5 hour drive.  At just 6$ each we were more than a little suspicious that we may be picking up others…

Driving into Ecuador moved us away from the sparse vegetation of the Peru coast.  We would climb some 2500m to Cuenca over the next hours.  We passed mile upon mile of banana plantations.  Their distinctive trees dotting the hillside with the familiar light blue bags covering the banana hanging from their branches.  It was easy to see why Ecuador has been the world’s largest banana producer for the last century.

If we stopped fifty times it was two hundred on the climb into the Central highlands.  We entered Ecuadorian Andes under scattered clouds, and impending darkness; the bus straining in 1st gear as it slowly crept up a bumpy, gravel road.  The vegetation was decidedly sub-tropical with dark greens filling our view. 
Improbably we arrived in Cuenca just 15’ late, not bad given it took us 3 buses and 2 cabs to get there. 

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