What Poppy Did

This weekend Rebecca and I went to Cuenca, the third largest city in Ecuador. Cuenca was founded in 1500 something by the Spaniards on the ruins of the great Incan city, Tomebamba.

We left Quito with Paul Harris (our would-be-Tumbaco neighbor) for the seven-hour drive to Cuenca at 6 a.m. on Friday morning. Sylvia and the kids are in Cuenca for the month of July and Paul was joining them for a long weekend. We were parents coming from polar opposites - Paul had been without his kids for a week, and was desperately missing them, and Rebecca and I couldn't wait to get away from ours for as long as possible. Rebecca and my situation was made even more desparate by the fact that Opa and PoPo would be leaving the day after our return from Cuenca (Monday), so we had major plans to, figuratively, blow the doors off this weekend.

The ride to Cuenca actually took about 12 hours. Partly because we stopped in Salcedo, Quisapincha, Alausi, and Riobamba, and partly because the road to Cuenca is, essentially, a dirt and rock road through the mountains. At one point we had to stop while a bulldozer cleared a landslide out of the way.

Salcedo was our first stop - for breakfast. And, since all the stores in Salcedo sell only the exact same homemade ice cream popsicles (and most of the stores were closed at the early hour that we arrived) - it was easy to decide on a store, but hard to decide on a flavor. We finally decided on blackberry (for me) and coconut creme (for Rebecca).



The next stop was Quisipincha - a leather-making town. We stopped because Rebecca wanted to look for a belt. Instead, she bought a leather jacket and two purses. I wasn't looking for anything but ended up with a leather jacket and my new favorite hat. One hour and one hundred and sixty dollars later, (and sans belt) we set out on the road to Cuenca again.

Here's a picture of me wearing my favorite hat in Cuenca.

But before we got to Cuenca, we had to eat. So, in a town called Alausi, we ate these fish and all that rice, for lunch.
And in Riobamba, we stopped at the oldest Spanish-built church in Ecuador (August 15, 1534), where we learned that the Spaniards introduced neon and tacky to the natives.
By the time we finally got to Cuenca, we were ready to settle for any old place to lay our heads. But instead, Sylvia called her brother-in-law and he hooked us up with a room in his hotel. Here's two pictures of our room (yes, two pictures because one wouldn't be enough, and yes, we had two beds). I won't go into details of how we spent our night. It's enough to say that the maid had a busy morning.
We stayed at a hotel in Indonesia once that was pretty fancy, but this one outclassed it by the two additional frilly-sheets it had hanging from the ceiling.


The rest of the weekend we spent like any normal couple that had a break from its two children would do. We serenaded each other,




drank cocktails,


walked around town,



with new friends (Paul and Sylvia)


and newer friends (Mr. Smiles)


And ate cuy. That's right, we ate cuy. After hearing of our cuy debacle in Banos, Paul and Sylvia took us to their favorite cuy restaurant in Cuenca for a bite of the tasty rat (did I mention that they are from Cuenca? And that they have a favorite cuy restaurant?). Rebecca could barely stomach a nibble (she claims it is a mental block) but I chowed down on the little critter. And I have to say, it was pretty darn tasty. The skin was crispier than a freshly opened bag of Doritos and the meat was quite tender.



This morning as Rebecca told Maya about our weekend in Cuenca, she said, "Guess what Poppy did?" Like somehow, having cuy for lunch on a Sunday is not the most ordinary thing in the world.