Baños (i'm too sleepy to come up with a witty title)

Baños. Yes, the word itself means bathroom, but that should not reflect on the city. Quite the contrary. Baños is a very nice little tourist town, the kind where there’s English words on every sign, American style breakfasts, and hundreds of vendors all selling the same thing, whether its guided volcano and waterfall tours, melcocho (the local jawbreaking taffy), or local artisan crafts. It’s very comfortable and offers familiarity to the tourist. It’s the kind of town I usually love to hate.

But this time it’s different. After having Nate’s bag slashed into, spending a night in lamentable Latacunga, and being chased by killer canines, we are ready for some comfort. As we walked down the narrow streets from the bus station into the city itself, we noticed the abundant hostels everywhere. There was one every few meters with colorful signs boasting private bathrooms and cable TV. Next to every hostel was a café advertising pancakes and milkshakes. Nate’s eyes widened; he could get used to a place like this!

We made our way to Hostel Plantas y Blanco where we got a private room with a view of a plant-filled courtyard. Dinner time! Two days ago after we had climbed up to Laguna Quilotoa, Nate had mentioned how good it would be to eat a gigantic pizza. Well, we were in the right place to get pizza. After surveying our options we head to one restaurant run by a friendly woman where we drink wine and play cards by candle light while our pizza is prepared. When it finally arrives, we scarf it down. It’s delicious and pastry-like. I’m full and content, but Nate is still hungry. We try another pizza place, Nate orders a large pie and finishes it by himself. Meanwhile I eat a kid’s size pizza and we struggle through another medio litro de vino. Finally we’re both full and wander the streets giggling on our winebuzz.

The next day we allowed ourselves to sleep in. Which meant getting up 9am. We found a colorful café on the side of a tranquil park where we stopped in for a pancake and fresh fruit breakfast. The clearly non-native owner was friendly and the coffee was the best I have had since New York.


Revitalized we took to the streets. We walked up and down the little streets getting a feel for this city. Don’t know what happened to the hours between breakfast and lunch, but before we knew it we were sitting elbow-to-elbow with indigenous families on plastic stools picking chicken meat off the bone in the bustling market. The second plate of our almuerzo was a fried egg, rice, sausage, beats, and salad. We shared a fresh raspberry juice. The whole thing put us back $1.75 apiece.

I love the ambiance of the market. People rushing around. Vendors roping you in with persuasive promises. It’s not the cleanest place in the world, especially by American standards, and it gets repetitive after a while, but it scores big points with food quantity and well-roundedness. Plus, the food stall is inside the market, which means that the ingredients are fresh and that you are supporting one local business that supports another. It’s definitely my meal of choice.


Baños is cradled in a valley surrounded on all sides by towering green mountains. What a beautiful backyard view! We set out for the supposed great hiking through the hills. The paths wind through the trees thick with foliage. We hear strange jungle sounds through the greenery. A horse pokes its head out at Nate. The path heads up and offers up spectacular views. Soon we are looking over the whole city and we’re not even to the top yet. Up and up we climb, past a panting family. Nate is cruising and I’m struggling to keep his pace. We climb to the Buenavista cross where we catch our breaths. The view is wonderful and if it wasn’t so cloudy we’d be able to see the volcano. The sun is settling opposite the valley and we decide to head down.

But on our way down we see another path promising a Mirador. It’s only 300m, let’s go for it! The path is more vertical, thinner, and covered in thick vegetation. Our jackets come off and our breaths search for more air. We walk and walk. We pass what must be 300m and keep going. By the time we reach something, the sun is on its way down. We snap a few photos and begin our descent. My eyesight is not good at distinguishing roots and rocks at low light, so I take it easy. But we want to make it down before it gets seriously dark. By the time we reach the city, the sun has disappeared and we plan what we’d do in case of a confrontation. But none comes, it’s Baños afterall.

We stop in a bakery for some sandwiches and cake! The friendly shop owner obliges even though his kitchen was long since closed for the night. I want to take advantage of the Friday night fun, but Nate seems less than enthused. So we walk around getting asked if we want to go on a volcano-watching chivas.


Baños is named after its natural thermal baths. There are pools with different temperature water where people sit and soak. The next, Saturday, morning we get up super early to beat the crowds. The alarm goes off at 5:30am. We stumble through the early morning light and we arrive before 6:30am. The complex sits at the base of a waterfall and was already packed by sunrise! Families were relaxing and wallowing in the natural medicinal properties of the water. We dipped our feet in one pool. Brrrr… It was freezing. We opted for the “just right” pool next. After a while of just bobbing along, we tried the last pool. As I walked in, my face switched to the shocked position. It was so hot! I didn’t understand how some of the people were able to stay in for so long! One very old man grinned at us and told us that the hot water was good for circulation, while doing arm pumps. We giggled.

We pool-hopped. Warm-hot-warm-hot… Until it was time to go. We felt relaxed. It was well worth the $1.60. We walked the few blocks to the hotel in time for breakfast on the roof! I run into a traveler I had met in Popayán, Colombia and she and another girl joined our table.





Nate had a massive pancake breakfast.






While Nate took a brief siesta, I went walking. The main iglesia of Nuestra Señora de Agua Santa was packed for mass, so I went upstairs to the museum instead. What an eclectic mix of random stuff! From offerings to the patron saint to taxidermied animals to traditional dresses to a two nosed pig’s head in a jar. I picked Nate up at the hotel and we walked around for lunch. Nate ate at Casa Hood while I took my chances at the market. He wasn’t feeling well, that was clear, so we took it easy on his stomach.

We read about the how Nuestra Señora de Agua Santa rescued people from burning buildings and saved them from catastrophic car accidents. But Nate wasn’t able to walk too far from the hostel at one time.


After a dinner of soup and lasagna, we stopped by the farmacia to get something for him. The pharmacist gave us some pills, but said that if it didn’t get better to get an suero de hidratica. OK. Sounds good.


We walked to find Nate’s panadería, but we had to return to the hostel. It was an early Saturday night for us. We had an early morning to Cuenca the next day.

Nate was up early on Sunday. Apparently his condition had gotten worse. I look at him and I can tell something is not right. So I mentally cancel the day’s travel plans and alert the front desk. They call for a doctor who is there within minutes. After a few questions and careful prodding, he diagnoses it as Salmonella. He says that Nate has grade 3 dehydration. You can tell by the dryness in his lips and his fever. How many grades of dehydration are there, Nate wants to know. There are 3.

The doctor and I joke and swap stories of being sick ourselves, while the IV is prepared. The doctor takes one look at Nate’s arms and is amazed by them. He calls Nate, Phelps, after the American swimmer. The first needle goes in, but the doctor has a puzzled look. He fiddles around and then pulls it out mumbling something about how this has never happened to him before. Nate’s skin had bent the needle! Talk about thick-skinned!

The doctor makes a few calls for backup needles assuring us that this has never happened to him before. Yea right, I bet he’s just embarrassed.

After inserting the IV, he says that they’ll need to change the serum bag two more times. Meaning, Nate’s confined to the bed (or at least to the drippy bag) for the whole day. But I don’t think he minds this because he eyes are almost closed before I leave for the grocery store.

Ok. What can a person with salmonella have to eat? Not much. No milk (or milk products). No eggs (or egg products). No fried foods. What can we make for dinner?!

I run around the grocery store: gaterade, instant soups, pasta, bouillon, kidney beans, spices, veggies, and bread! Great! For lunch I make Nate eat 1 litre of soup with bread. His forehead is still very very warm and his lips are still chapped. But at least he has some energy and his trips to el baño are less frequent.

All day I’m running around. Back and forth to the grocery store. Out to get a couple DVDs. To the pharmacy to get Nate’s meds. Poor Nate is confined to the bed slipping in and out of sleep, playing video games, and listening to music. Around 6pm, the last bag of suero is finished! Wahoooo! You’re free, Nate!

We chippity chop up potatoes, carrots, onion, garlic, and green pepper. Add water, broth cubes and spices. Add kidney beans and pasta. Stir and simmer! Voila! We eat the stew with fresh bread. I add cheese and tomatoes to mine.

We (meaning I) get ourselves (meaning myself) entangled in a ferocious game of Egyptian ratscrew with the travelers at the next table over. We talk and laugh with them, sharing magic tricks and stories, until we are kicked out of the roof café by the nighttime security guard. Goodnight! Tomorrow we leave for Cuenca (cross your fingers!)