Prior to kick-off in Guayaquil where I was due to watch the local favourites Barcelona take on the minnows of Manta, I was literally choking and feeling extremely slack at the back. Big match nerves I don´t know but I seriously contemplated sitting the game out. Blinded by my passion for the game and with the Black Eyed Peas´ I Gotta Feeling pumping out at me from a cafe, I regained my belief that tonight was in fact gonna be a great night. The taxi driver with a mysterious white glove only served to fuel my adrenaline.
My faith was rewarded on arrival at the Estadio El Monumental where this football pilgrim who stands before you was immediately healed amongst a sea of yellow and a fever of excitement. Caught up in the magic, I joined the masses and bought myself a home shirt for under a fiver. For the first ten minutes, I paid little attention to the game, instead absorbing the atmosphere and looking around in awe at what was a monster of a stadum. Football sure beats taking tablets.
When I did start paying attention to the game however, I soon realised this was definitely a different Barcelona from the one conquering earth over the pond. While the more commonly known Barca are known for their wonderfully sharp passing and ability to tear teams apart almost at will, this team appeared to do the opposite; hospital passes frequently littered their play, thus landing their own teammates in plenty of trouble and more often than not, providing the catalyst for the oppositions counter attacks. Their badge is very similar though.
After plenty of frustration, the home team did finally make the breakthrough midway through the second half, only to concede within another two minutes. Luckily with ten minutes to go, they did snatch a scrappy winner, much to the delight of me and my fellow yellow fanatics. Though the stadium was far from full, it was a good turnout by the Barca fans which is more than can be said for the travelling away fans. I made out a total of nine. Probably the most pathetic away support in Ecuadorian football history. At least they brought some instruments.
With the game over and my health restored, I flagged a cab, only to realise I didn´t know where my hostel was and neither did the driver. Instead, I made a pit-stop in the city centre to find an internet cafe and the address of my abode. I made it home and celebrated with a burger.
My six month anniversary came on Sunday as did my departure from Guayaquil. After staying cool in the air conditioned mall for much of the afternoon, at 4.30PM, I got my bus to the spa town of Baños. I landed around midnight and accepted the first invitation to stay at a nearby hostel. For $5 a night, I got an ensuite room, with TV and a double bed. Goal.
Though Baños is renowned for being a great place to take on a variety of activities such as rafting, ´puenting´ (bridge jumping), trekking and cycling, I chose to do nothing. Mainly as a means of saving money but also to do with my enthusiasm for such things now flagging having done so much already on my trip, I instead chose to spend the day walking the streets, taking a look at the thermal baths and enjoying some Spanish football in my room. The bridge jumping did tempt me but I didn´t see it as being worth $10 of my cash as the drop wasn´t big enough.
On the Tuesday I exerted a similar amount of energy; enjoying emapanadas and coffee for breakfast, followed by United v Bayern Munich in a cafe where I had a good set meal of soup and chicken. Feeling a little low after the defeat, I went to console myself at the local cemetery.
I then had a nap, a pizza and a screening of Jerry Maguire.
With Baños ticked off, the next morning I travelled to the capital Quito. Situated in the historical part of town, my hostel was very cheap but it came at a cost. For $3.50 a night, I had to endure many a dreadlocked hippie playing guitar, harmonica, flute and juggling bean bags. This medley, barring the bean bags which obviously don´t make a noise, was especially painful when used to replicate an alarm at 8AM in the morning. Or as a musical accompaniment to your dreams at 1AM.
Like in Baños, I spent my day wandering the quaint streets, spending money only on copied music CDs and the occasional bite to eat.
The next day was April Fools´ but I kid you not, I visited the equator. An hour or so away from the capital, this imaginary line is converted into a reality in the tourist town of Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World).
Sadly, the line marked out at the site is actually two hundred metres shy of being correct but unfortunately the theme park didn´t have the benefit of GPS when it was constructed. Hindsight can be a bugger.
While I was there with a throng of giddy tourists, I took some pictures on this line of false promise, then had an afternoon nap while watching a film in the planetarium.
Back in Quito, I weighed up the option of staying in the city until Sunday for the clash between Barca and LDU Quito but as I couldn´t get tickets at the ground, I declined the idea. As it turned out, the game was 0-0, much to my delight.
On Friday, I left the freak circus behind and got a five hour bus to the Colombian border town of Tulcan. My journey was made all the more pleasurable by a young lady called Laurena who chatted with me almost the whole way and didn´t once touch my hair. Although she was a single mother, she didn´t propose but she did point me in the right direction for taxis when we arrived at our destination.
From there, I made it to the border where there were no guerillas or gun fights. Maybe it wasn´t Colombia after all.
Another taxi ride took me to the town of Ipales and waiting there for me was a twelve hour bus to the salsa capital of South America, Cali.
At 5AM I arrived a little dazed but looking not half as rough as the lady at the hostel who greated me.
I slept until nine then got up for a stroll round town. A little disorientated, I asked a man for directions and instead of merely pointing, he took me on a guided tour of the centre and finished with a stop at his cafe for a free coffee and breakfast.
In the afternoon, I got confirmation that my new team, Millonarios of Bogota, were playing America de Cali down the road. I say my team because in the space of a week, I should be able to see them play three times; first in Cali, then in Bogota on Wednesday, and finally, eight hundred kilometres away in Cartagena at the weekend.
This football trek sadly began with a 3-2 defeat. I enjoyed the game with a cockney called Kevin, who was supporting the home team and though the result hurt, the game itself was a cracker. Millonarios missed two penalties and had a man sent off while Cali were also reduced to ten men and their goalie scored a penalty to level the game at 2-2. The halftime cheerleaders also lifted my spirits.
Back at Hostal Jovita´s, I had a salsa class which went well and then later that evening, a group of us from the hostel and our dance teacher hit a salsa club. Tanked up with rum, I unleashed hell on the dancefloor and showed the Colombians how it´s done. That´s how I´d like to remember it.
Yesterday I rolled out of bed at midday then had a day of leisure, walking the deserted streets and longing for a Maltesers Easter egg. My evening was spent watching the Bob Marley tribute, I Am Legend and Evan Almighty.
And now today, on the eve of my birthday, I celebrate with an overnight journey to Bogota. I started things with another breakfast at Eduardo´s cafe then purchased a Millonarios shirt for a fiver. The yellow fever has gone, bring on the blues.
Happy Birthday James!
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