I cannot stand long bus rides any longer. A lot has changed since I last traveled in August. Now that I am making a lot more money it has changed some fundamentals of traveling. My time is now far more valuable than money and so if I can get somewhere faster (i.e. airplane) I will do it regardless of price.  Or to frame it differently money is no longer an issue. Why should I take a bus when I can fly?

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I bussed it back to Quito in about 4 hours and checked back into Centro del Mundo in the old town. I even got the same private room…or closet would be a more appropriate term. Not exactly the accommodation you would get in any normal hotel special offers. Usually you have some space to move! In most cases, at least. At least the company was better. Once in the hostel I chatted with an American couple and a few Chileans. In my notes when I wrote “pretty boring” but have since run into the American couple here in Bogota and have had some great conversations with them. So maybe I was actually the one who was boring the night I first met them?

The next evening during a boring TV watching session I was eying the crowd trying to see if anyone looked like they were up for a night out. Many people are content to stay inside and just talk but to my surprise an Israeli guy, Mark, asked if anyone was interested in going out.  And that’s how I made a great new friend!

Mark (Israel), I, and a Chilean guy Joaquin were a good fit for going out. All three of us had no interest in going out in the “Zona” where all the trendy bars and foreigner filled cheap discos were. We wanted to try the best nightlife in Quito and landed at a club called “CientoOchentaDos” (182) a short taxi ride away. I have never seen a better looking collection of people in my life. This includes discos in Brazil, Colombia, Canada, etc. It looked as if everyone was a model and the three of us could not stop staring.

The following night we found another fun guy from Portugal to make us a group of four. It was such a relief that all of us were on the same page. Cost was not an issue which is a nice thing when it’s pretty common to get stuck going out with other foreigners who would rather walk around for an hour rather than pay a $5 cover to get into a place.

This night we went to another disco outside of the “Zona” which was called Flashback. The name gives it away as it turned out to be a nice disco filled with people in their 30’s to 50’s. It was still a nice place with tons of people and a live cover band playing hits from the 80’s which I can’t pretend I really knew all that well. Being the youngest guy there I was naturally a target for some of the women. One even played the bait and switch game leaving me with her less attractive friend. I can’t believe she really thought she could pull that trick and not expect me to walk away. Regardless it was a great night that ended back at the hostel where the four of us shared stories until 6AM.

On Saturday night it was our last hurrah together. This time we chose another great disco away from all of the cheap backpackers called Juliana. This was more of a middle ground between the previous to disco with most people being in their 20’s rather than 40’s, and a more normal looking group. I quickly struck up a conversation with a very cute student named Diana. We danced salsa and reggaeton together for the next few hours until the club closed.

Overall another great weekend in Ecuador with some great new friends.

On Wednesday my websites worked as usual so I put in a long day of work and then met some travelers for the trice weekly rum and cokes. This is usually the easiest time to meet people. I spoke with people from Israel, Germany, Finland, and the most interesting…a third culture guy. His father is from Argentina, his mother from Bolivia, and he lives in Italy having also lived in those countries for a while. What an upbringing, right?

I enjoyed talking with him the most because his story was different and you know it’s a good conversation when what each person does for a living never comes up in conversation. Likewise, he was not full of clichés like I find with others. For example, he is going to live in an Ecuadorian Jungle town doing some kind work with the people there. But what I like about what he told me is that he’s doing it for himself. For his own experience rather than expecting to “save the world”, which if some of what he does is positive all the better. It’s refreshing to hear this perspective rather than the other in which the person truly believes they will completely improve a town.

I led our group of 4 to a disco around the corner and a bit of fun showing off my intuition. I spotted a group of two girls and approached them with the third culture kid.

“Let me guess…you two are from the United States?
“Yes”

“And you are both here studying abroad”

“Yes”

“At the Universidad de San Francisco”

“Wow, how could you tell all of that?”

I had a good laugh at how easy it is to identify the study abroad students here in Quito. Meanwhile at the disco I did meet an Ecuadorian girl but excused myself after a while and found a German-Asian girl who I taught some salsa (i.e. the basic step). I was interrupted by the pretty German girl we came with who at the time was dancing with the Israeli. In a moment she jumped away from his and then to me. She was pretty but I felt guilty that the Israeli guy had been chatting with her all night. I looked at him with a confused look and he did the same back.

Regardless I danced with her and it was only five minutes later that I realized what a psycho this girl is. Her behavior was really off the wall and I could notice how drunk she had become. I tried to pass her off to the Israeli guy but he had been watching and agreed that she was nuts. So soon enough as I kept trying to get away she spotted the third culture kid with the American girl I had identified before and latched on to him. She followed them around for the next half-hour, literally hanging on to him as he tried to dance with the American girl.

I am living abroad on my own terms.  It is one week that I have been living this life I have been idealizing for years now.

A few days after arriving here in Ecuador I met Carolina for lunch. She and one of her friends picked me up from my hostel and the three of us drove into the old city.

We drove through the narrow roads passing colonial architecture and dodging pedestrians. This continued for a while as we drove in circles in search of the area’s one parking garage.

One time during the stop and go traffic Carolina jumped out of the front seat and switched with her friend.

I wanted to visit the old town to wander but I saw enough from my window that I don’t even know if there is anything left to explore.

Just a few blocks from the garage the frustration increased and we turned into the bus only lane for a moment. But in that moment the police stopped the car and wrote us a ticket for $60. Just like in America, the more tickets you receive the more points taken away, until one’s driving license is suspended.

We walked down one of the area’s beautiful pedestrian only walkways into a restored colonial theater turned restaurant.

I ordered trout, which like most meals came with salad, rice, and a fried plantain. It wasn’t the best lunch but the restaurant’s atmosphere made up for it. We walked a few stores down for a quick cappuccino because just an hour before Carolina’s new job told her to come in for her first day of work.

We drove back down the narrow streets and back into the new area of the city to Carolina’s job, which happens to be very close to where I stay.

Speaking of which, after three nights of limited sleep and a poor atmosphere I walked a few blocks to a new hostel, Centro del Mundo. The hostel is known for its party atmosphere because of the 12 liters of free rum and coke they offer Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. It’s also dirt cheap here even for hostel standards. For the past 4 days I have been living in a private room the size of a small walk-in closet. The price? Just US$6 per night.  The real queen size bed (not just a flimsy mattress) makes up for the 1970’s paint job and rubber floor you would find in a water park’s changing room. It’s a dump for sure but for now I like it. I moved into my room on Wednesday.

All was well in a hostel dorm room full of 8 people. That was until one-by-one each of us fell asleep. But a little past 2AM we all began to wake one-by-one because of one Brazilian guy snoring like a pig. Eventually all 7 of us were wide awake wanting to punch this guy in his mouth.

I know everyone was awake because in this room you could hear anytime someone tossed around in their bed. Plus all of the “dios mio” being cried from other beds in the room. I hoped someone would be brave enough to get out of bed and wake him.

Some time passed and he continued to snore while I continued to hear by hostel mates frustration. I counted to 10, put on my shirt, and stepped out of my bed to walk a few steps to the bed with the snorer.

“Hey….hey….come on”, I whispered loudly.

My words made no difference. I started pushing him lightly until he woke.

“English o Espanol”, I asked.

The girl beside his bed said espanol when he did not respond so I told him in my rusty Spanish,

“El sonido de tu nariz es muy alta y nadie puede dormir”

In english it means the sound from your nose is really loud and nobody can sleep. He did not respond but for the rest of the night he did not make a sound. A few minutes ago one of the girls in the room came over and thanked me for waking him, making me a dorm room hero.