ab 21.09.: Ambato - 2,570 m

21.09.

change of course south, southeast. The peak of my Vespen tour has been reached.
Today it is actually tackled. Although Colombia is only a stone's throw away and supposedly so beautiful. And overall - the most beautiful of all South America, everyone tells me. Next time, I think. By then I'll have a Class 1 driver's license and be allowed to ride a Vespa with 300 cc.

I leave Quito and my neighborhood Mariscal with tears in my eyes. One last look at the group of men who gathered for breakfast at my Greek salad place. Then it's time to look ahead. The traffic is heavy, the sun is shining vertically from the sky. I'm riding in a T-shirt and without motorcycle gear. Careless - but I want to avoid standing in traffic and getting soaked.

I manage to get out of Quito despite adverse circumstances (hardly readable GPS and cutting cars and buses) and soon find myself back on the Panamericana Sur.

Ambato is my destination. indicated as a ridiculous 3-hour drive on the GPS. That's good to get back into the swing of things. The lack of foam padding is becoming noticeable at increasingly shorter intervals. I have to think of something. On the other hand, it's also good to take a break every hour.

The Panamericana leads between the eastern and western cordilleras to the south and is a good wind tunnel. It comes at me with force, which makes driving very exhausting. The slopes become steeper. The Vespa signals: change of jets. I find a somewhat daring 'parking bay'. Picturesquely situated. A bumpy road leads a few meters down to a meadow where black and white cows graze and two men try out a water pipe as a trough.

The local milk industry advertises its products with the 'Swiss Alps' brand on big signs.

The Vespa is stable, the jet change is quick, but when I start off I notice that the throttle no longer opens up as usual. Only a quarter left, then I'm already at the resistance. Oh well, now I have to free myself from this parking situation and complete the turning maneuver that I started. Just roll down the bumpy road and then drive back up, that's not possible with 125 cc. So I have to turn around in a very small space - looking at the steep bumpy road..
Guests from the nearby restaurant arrive and see my turning maneuver as a welcome diversion. Not a good idea! One of them actually wants to start a conversation with me in my somewhat awkward situation: de donde vienes? Where are you from? - I ignore him.

I manage to get the Vespa on course with quarter throttle and merge onto the shoulder of the Panamericana Sur.

The next parking bay is much better. It's not the throttle cable that's jammed. It can only have something to do with the carburetor installation, because everything was normal before the jet change. So I take off the carburetor and realize that I have threaded the spring clamp incorrectly. That must be it. I correct my mistake and soon realize that was the cause. Pat on the back and onwards.

On the way, in small villages, pre-cut pineapples and pieces of melon are offered in large plastic cups. The melons remind me of my father-in-law, who always brings them for birthdays.

Nicely conical in shape and from this perspective the power of his activity can be seen

And then I see him up close: the 5,900 m high and still active Cotopaxi volcano! A cone with cloud formations over its crater against a blue sky and green landscape. Glaciers licking up at him. He gets his name from the pre-Inca era. At that time, the gods who were responsible for the valuable rain lived there.
When the moon is at a certain angle above the crater, it looks like a man wearing a poncho. The poncho is represented by the glaciers. Cotopaxi comes from 'neck of the moon'.
I would love to take pictures over and over again because its perspective changes constantly at short intervals. But the road is downhill, there is no parking brake on the Vespa. And holding it still with my feet for a long time only blurs the picture.

Cotopaxi - 'neck of the moon' - still active and a member of a 'volcano alley' (Wikipedia) along the eastern Andes in Ecuador

The entrance to Ambato - it's now half past four - and since 11:00 o'clock I'm on the saddle - is very difficult. The section of the Panamericana that I'm driving today has been renewed and widened. In itself, a sensible measure. But there, where the asphalt is now pouring in, there were houses just a few years ago, people lived there. Today you can see that the plots of land of the houses that have remained standing are cut off immediately from the edge of the lowered road, about two to three meters away from the entrance of the house.
The time is not far away and the whole house will slide down after a heavy El Niño rain.
Who will take responsibility?

Back to my adventure 'Entering Ambato'. A bypass has been created that does not allow the city center to be accessed easily. Before, I had chosen a hostel on iOverlander, which is only a few minutes away from the city center. My GPS is tasked with guiding me there. I'm only a few kilometers away and prepare for the end of the day - then there's an unavoidable and unplanned junction, and boom - just like in Santiago back then - I'm catapulted away. Suddenly, the GPS display shows 12 km!!! This happens again - I try allowed alternatives. But they're not fruitful either, so I use a small road more or less illegally, which branches off from the highway and leads me into the city center.
It drags on and on. But the traffic in this city of 220,000 inhabitants is increasing - my direction can't be completely wrong. Then comes a roundabout, which I misunderstand and suddenly see a steeply ascending road in front of me. Steep! Just like in Cusco!
No chance I think, when I'm distracted by two youngsters aged 10 to 12 and unfortunately take off the gas. Why? They seem to be too lazy to run up the steep road, but instead they take a run-up, sprint after the pickup truck in front of me and accelerate - one makes it, climbs onto the loading area and more or less voluntarily lands at the cab. The other one didn't make it and gracefully rolls off onto the road. There is no following traffic...

I hope for a decrease in the gradient - that often works wonders, and the engine gets going again, but it slows down and slows down. A motorcyclist notices my fate, overtakes me, keeps looking back and apparently doesn't want to acknowledge my situation.
Turning on a downhill road is facing me for the second time today. Just one wrong shift of weight, or just one wrong turn of the front wheel - the Vespa obeys gravity, tilts to the downhill side and buries its rider underneath. Not a pleasant thought. So highest concentration. Exclude drivers who want to go up or down mentally and tackle the task of getting the Vespa back on track safely and soundly. Surprisingly no honking. Maybe I'm the main character in an exciting movie...

Ambato - just a small section on my way to the Italian restaurant where they have salad!

The hostel is quickly found. Dusk begins. Perfect timing!

Tomorrow, a day off - although I just had a week off. But what must be, must be.

22.09.

I make good use of the break. I wake up refreshed after a long night, buy some fruit a few houses away and go for breakfast. A nearly windowless hall greets me, equipped with plastic chairs. I take the oats out of the luggage bag of my Vespa, which is just a few meters away, and the kitchen lady asks me if I want to sit in the kitchen. I prefer that to the dark dungeon. Besides, it's easier to express wishes - for a second cup of milky coffee or a deep plate for the oat flakes. It's bright in here.
Afterwards, I write a letter, update my blog and have a long phone call with Karin. And suddenly it's afternoon and duty calls. Visiting the Vespa workshop that is supposed to sell me the replacement drive belt.
I give the taxi driver the address. Time is running out, because only now do I see on the internet platform that the dealership closes at 5:00 p.m. Rush hour traffic, the taxi driver deliberately overlooks red lights, thankfully not other road users, and shortly after we arrive at the destination. Neither commercial nor residential area. An empty street welcomes us and where the dealership is supposed to be, a long white wall runs along for several meters. This is the address. I ring the bell and get the answer: no hay aquí. It doesn't exist here. And now the taxi driver's money-making really starts. I don't want to give up. The GPS on my smartphone still gives me a chance of 200 m. But then the route is recalculated - no alternative. We call the phone number that is on the website - looped recording. Finally, I call Cassandra via WhatsApp, who gave me the tip and whose acquaintance works in the spare parts department. She researches the correct address. This time we end up at a Mazda dealership. Only at second glance do I see a glass trailer with 3 Vespas inside. Success! I'm sent to a small door and I'm actually in the right department. Only the employee's answer there is that the Vespa spare parts are only available on Mondays until 5:00 p.m. and the colleague will not be back until then. I don't give up, call Cassandra again, who now negotiates directly with the taxi driver. There might still be a chance that he will be there tomorrow from 10:00 a.m. But she doesn't know if the belt has arrived. She also doesn't have a mobile phone number, only the one we called before.

Alright, I end the search and we drive back. I ask the taxi driver if he knows a restaurant where they have salad. He recommends the shopping center. That sounds good to me because I know from Lima that there are canteens there with a rich salad buffet. And since making money with a gringo is so much fun, he says he has to quickly take a detour and pay one dollar. He shows me the dollar... I nod, assuming that it's just a small detour. Besides, I get to know more about the city, which is really not beautiful. After a quarter of an hour we stop at a well-occupied taxi stand, my taxi driver picks up a dollar from the ashtray. Beforehand he tries to negotiate the amount down to 50 centavos. The colleague just laughs at him and in the end the dollar that was already prepared changes hands. I don't quite understand this procedure and ask him. First I understand that he is in a different district and has to pay 1 dollar to the colleagues from the other district for that. I ask him how the colleagues will find out about that. But then I understand him correctly: there are 48 taxis that belong to a taxi company. But all 48 taxi drivers are independent and they also own the vehicle. This one dollar, which has to be paid daily, 5 days a week, is for the entrepreneur. I didn't ask why he has a claim on it. I suspect that he provides the taxi meters - maybe also takes care of other services. For just under 1,000 dollars a month...

The taxi driver drops me off at the shopping center, rounding up from 18 to 20 dollars and saying goodbye friendly.
We both got something out of it: I got to know the city and was able to take a nice photo, and he made good sales. I can cope reasonably well with not getting the belt. A new one was installed in Quito. The previous one lasted for 10 thousand kilometers, so the current one will too. Besides, according to the mechanic from Quito, there are Vespa dealerships in Brazil as well. Let's see.

One would think that the volcanoes would be a threat to Ambato. But the reason why there is no longer any colonial architecture here lies in the devastating earthquake that leveled the city in 1949.
Agriculture and handicrafts, including the leather industry, are the main sources of income. Today, it is also the bodywork industry that specializes in coachbuilding, especially for coaches. But its dominance in the domestic economy is over since Ecuador abolished import tariffs. Now the company has to compete in the international market. Accordingly, the order volume has been reduced.
When I crossed the city limits of Ambato yesterday, I took a break right in front of this company. I got into a conversation with a security man. The reason was also a passing chassis of a coach. The driver was sitting like in a convertible, completely unprotected on his driver's seat and raced past us at high speed. The bodywork with windows and doors was not there yet.

There are fruit and vegetable shops here that not only have a display, but are literally stocked from bottom to top with fruit and vegetables. Maybe I can take a picture of that tomorrow and also take a look inside the cathedral.