Having always wanted to travel, Husband and I set out to see the world. We thought about going to Europe. We fantasized about the mysterious Far East. We consulted our bank account and set off for South America. For some reason it was cheaper to fly to Ecuador than California, it was even cheaper than flying around the Republic.
terribly frightened a bit apprehensive regarding altitude sickness, we opted to start our adventure in Guayaquil. Guayaquil reminds me of Oakland. Not the scary, get shot for driving through the wrong neighborhood Oakland, but the Lake Merritt, Art Deco Oakland of my youth.
Guayaquil has been described as a devastatingly hot and humid city. It was no hotter nor more humid than Mérida. Actually, I think it may have been less so. However, we missed the cooling afternoon breezes that we’re used to enjoying. Without those breezes, it felt stuffy and cloying. Fortunately, it wasn’t like that every day.
While drivers stayed in their lanes and generally seemed more obedient to traffic laws, there was a lot of gridlock. The every driver for him self mode of driving prevailed in Guayaquil just like Mérida. Since Guayaquil isn’t a colonial city the streets were wide enough to handle the volume of vehicles.
We only stayed in Guayaquil long enough to recover from our long flight. We were anxious to head to Salinas and enjoy the fabled cebiche (no that isn’t a typo, they spell it that way) and see the beaches.