Nai-publish: 18.09.2017
16.09.
Today, I will be visiting the actual equator line. I ride back to the exhibition grounds of Mitad del Mundo and ask the parking attendant if he knows the way to the 'Zeroth Second'. He wants to send me to the exhibition grounds, but when I explain to him that there are no more deviations from the latitude 240 meters north from here, he sends me in the wrong direction. Since the sun is not shining, I don't realize that I am not going north.
In the volcano crater: life and agricultureI let myself roll downhill again and stop at a ferreteria (a hardware store). There are currently no customers there, so I get three different answers to my question. The boss waves me off and says it's too steep, her husband takes a piece of paper and draws the way, and the son wants my smartphone and triggers the correct navigation. I'm lucky because as I say goodbye, a truck arrives at the yard to pick up goods.
I pass by San Antonio de Pichincha, which is in a Saturday mood, and soon leave the paved roads behind. I cross the small gorge marked by the boss, and then it's not only uphill, but the paths become sandier and the wasps more uncertain, but then the ground becomes firmer again. Now I also see the marker pole on a hilltop, but the wasps no longer take me the last 600 meters, it is simply too steep. I start walking and only two cars overtake me. I had expected much more traffic.
Then I finally reach the top, take out my smartphone, open the GPS status app, and see progress. The seconds count has reduced to 001´´, but that's not enough for me. So I walk back and forth with my smartphone, and finally go directly to the marker, stop, and indeed, for a moment three zeros light up. After that, it fluctuates between 0 and 1. I don't want to figure out why it is like that. Instead, a dirt bike comes driving towards me. The driver lives only 10 km away from here and was allowed to borrow his son's motorcycle for a joyride. He looks surprised when I show him where we are.
Well, I am satisfied. It is drizzling a little and I return to the Vespa. Now I can stick the sticker on the windscreen because it has reached the zero latitude.
It is drizzling up here, but the mountains are still illuminated by the sun - the windscreen will soon be adorned with an equator stickerWhen I put my smartphone in the display box, I realize that I left the charging cable in the hostel. The battery is already at 12%. Although I turn on the smartphone later, it dies on one of the city highways. Those who rely solely on navigation and blindly trust technology will eventually be left behind. I have to find an outlet. Samsung is a common brand and any other charging cable would work. So I stop at a 'restaurant' and order a salad without meat, but I get very little salad, grilled lamb, and papas frittas anyway. The grill is located in the entrance door, the wood is smelly, the traffic noise is drowned out by a pop singer, but the meat is good. I am allowed to charge my smartphone and continue riding when it reaches 12% battery again. I manage to get back to the hostel without any issues, but I still won't buy a city map because it would be too cumbersome on the Vespa.
After a short nap, I go to the park, which is not far away. Its area has been reduced due to the construction of the subway. Somehow, I feel like watching a theater or better yet, an opera. I surf the internet, but don't find anything. Taking advantage of the cheap taxi prices, I hail a taxi and tell the driver what I want. He mentions Teatro Simon Bolivar and Teatro National Sucre - both in Centro Historico. Both theaters don't have any shows scheduled. Very unfortunate. We drive back to my neighborhood. By now, the taxi driver has selective perception and notices a street concert. I only noticed the police cars that blocked the road. We stop at the next opportunity, and within a few minutes, I become a guest at a street concert. It is a beautiful neighborhood, I can still see whitewashed houses with large gardens, and the concert takes place at the intersection, with two audience tents forming a right angle to the stage. There are about 100 spectators, who are taught to sing first. The teacher does it very skillfully, and I am surprised by how musical the audience is. She has them sing in two different keys, and it almost sounds like a professional choir. The conductor wants the best for the audience and for himself. He has long hair, which he later uses as the professionals do when conducting. A violin piece by Mozart is on the program. A very young soloist enters the stage, dressed too thinly for the windy evening. She doesn't convince me, and the instrument sounds off, but later, it works better with faster pieces. A clarinetist joins her. His solo is good, but the duet with the violinist takes some getting used to. The audience is devout and focused, and they mostly applaud at the right moments. Then comes an Ecuadorian folk dance, which didn't quite get the audience out of their seats.
Anyway, I had a cultural experience, eat another portion of papas frittas, and return to the hostel.
Unfortunately, the night turned out in a way that I am struggling with stomach problems on September 17th as well.