We almost didn’t do this, because we thought it was just a hike around a lake, staring at the same thing the whole time – boring – but then read that there’s more to it and decided to give it a go. And because magic happens when you least expect it, we had the best couple of days in Ecuador, ever.

Bus journeys in Ecuador deserve their own blog altogether, a Netflix series even, for the drivers tear up and down the windy mountain roads like frustrated F1 hopefuls. Never mind the 4000m altitude, survive the bus journey and your Iron Man. So after a 2.5h rodeo we reached an insignificant little village called Quilotoa on the edge of a volcanic crater, collapsed out of the bus and dragged our pitiful selves to a lodge.

In the morning we set our target on a village called Chugchilan, or something like that – 10.24km trail the sign said – easy, we said. This path followed the crater half way round, right along the sharp well articulated edge, a metre to either side and you’d fall either into the deep blue or off the volcano. The wind was wild once again, just about strong enough to pick you up and fly you to Korea.

Onwards and upwards we marched with baby steps admiring the stunning blue lake underneath. The locals say it’s bottomless, but some boring scientists turned up some time ago and confirmed  its’ depth to be 250m. Sometimes they should just keep their gadgets and reason to themselves, it is much more romantic to sit with a goat by the fire and believe in the mystery.

This lovely lady offered us coco leaf tea (helps for altitude sickness) and beer (helps for courage), the hut provided much needed shelter from the raging winds and we managed to recharge for the second part of the walk, which was meant to be an easy stroll through the valley.

After a couple of hours of very pleasant walking in the sun and a few debates about which way to turn we arrived in a seemingly truly remote little village, which we didn’t expect to find en route. Embracing the desolate feel of the place, we were discussing whether the folk here have ever travelled to another country or seen a smartphone, when moments later a couple of indigenous children ran out of their house and requested to take selfies with Frida. Another minute’s walk later we came across a phone repair shop in the middle of the establishment, this was in fact the only shop open. A solid response to our naivety.

Another couple of hours later we arrived at an almost vertical cliff, on the top of it. The village we were headed to was clearly in sight and not far at all as the crow flies, but to get there we needed to hike down this sheer cliff face into a deep canyon and then up again on the other side. This is where it got slow and exhausting, but breathtakingly beautiful. The path took us through narrow gaps in the rock, barely shoulder width, as well as down steep steps with nothing stopping you from falling into the abyss. Somewhere random between the sky and bottom of the canyon on the edge of the wall a small group of local children greeted us from their little secret hide out with the best view imaginable. One of the girls warned us for the dangers ahead and gave Loren a stick and reminded us to look after the baby. She was about 13. We should’ve guessed that it’s only getting trickier. There was a moment of ‘no path’ when crawling on all fours, using hands to find a grip was needed. The stick was priceless at that moment. More dangerous and frightening the path became for us, the more fun it was for Frida. Her laughter and flapping kept our cold sweats easy to wear.

It was exhilarating to say the least and we made it down in high spirits eventually and then up again to collapse in the hostel. 8 hours if took us, 10.24km… We were completely spent that evening, barely able to lift a spoon of potato soup to our mouths. 

This was and incredible hike with stunning scenery, the best day yet in Ecuador. What made it special was the fun encounters with local people. As you stroll through the indigenous villages you get a glimpse into very different lifestyles, but once you take time out and chat to them and watch the kids run around crazy you realise we’re all the same at heart.

It wasn’t over yet though, we’ll write about the second day of hiking in the area in the next post.

Written offline, in a cabin by Lake Titikaka, three weeks later…