I'M AT: The Hotel Pichincha, Cuenca, see below.
My last day in Cuenca, and I got done everything that I wanted to do - sent some stuff home, including about 400 photos on CD, and bought some waterproof clothes - no longer The Most Unprepared Man in South America
So with a couple of hours to kill I walked to Turi.
Turi´s a hamlet with a powder-blue church, overlooking the city of Cuenca. It takes about an hour to get there, mostly uphill. You have to do a chicken run across the Loja-Azaqoes motorway to get there. Midday´s not the time to do it when the sun´s out.
But the view really is great, taking in the whole city, surrounding villages, the Tomebamba and three other rivers, mountains in the distance, little fluffy clouds, the whole deal. The only thing is that there´s really nothing else to do up there. The church was shut and I already had a bottle of water, so I came back down again, and got lost in the suburbs, really wealthy houses with tree ferns on the driveway, high gates, mesh shutters, Alsatians. And eventually, passing the cafe where I bought the water on the way up, I smiled at the señora who´d served me, she called me over, and I met her three giggly daughters and grandson Fernandas. Cute lad with a thick Fifth Beatle of black hair.
When the highlight of your day is a brief, sweaty, fractured conversation with a small, nervous child, it´s time to move on. Salud, Fernandas.
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