It was difficult to know whether to stay in Old Town or New Town, because New Town seemed to have all of the action, but after much deliberation we decided on Old Town. It was without a doubt the best choice after seeing what each had to offer. We stayed in San Francisco de Quito, a lovely colonial style hotel where we were treated very well. The hotel is one block from the Plaza de la Independencia, a perfect oasis to explore the architecture, museums, and other historical sights.
However, for today we are only interested in one thing: Salsa Dancing! As a request, Sophy wanted to get Sparkle Toed high heels to dress ourselves up for the party scene. We've been hiking the Sierra for so long, we look the drab part wearing the same clothes over and over again. We went into every shoe store in Old Town center. Just for the record, shoe stores are in high competition with your average corner store. You'd think that there's nothing else to buy in the city other than candy and shoes. I have to admit that I was trying not to be a party pooper, but I didn't want to buy $50 sparkle puss shoes, a breed of "hidi.i" (hideous)and never wear them again. But I gave in to some bronze strappy sandals with a row of faux diamonds across the front.
It was laughable: I was in jeans and heels, ZERO makeup, and Sophy looked like tinkerbell in green spandex,mega heels, flowy white top and colorful tagua necklace (from our bike extravaganza en Banos). We picked out a Cuban Restaurant, Varadero, in the middle of New Town where we were told it would turn into a live Cuban music dance party.
After a pleasant dinner, and a bit of confusion, we realized that the party was next door. When we entered the bar we noticed that everyone was with their significant other. Drats, we wanted dancing partners. Tonight there are no downers though, it's birthday time. The live band was awesome...the lead singer had a lot of charisma and was electric when he'd dance on stage. Sophy made eyes at him all night...struck by the lead-singer syndrome. I made my way to the dance floor and just started shaking it like the best of them. All of the sudden Sophs and I were scooped up by stray dancers, putting our tinkle toes to the test. My partner was a fashionable young twenties blonde. Or at least that is how I remember this baby-face bailarin. He was with a group of friends,celebrating another birthday. Two of the girls had studied abroad in NYC, and proceeded to practice their English with Sophy and I. Several tequila shots later we were all best friends, hopping around, dancing sexy, and imitating certain reggaeton dances, and interpreting the words of songs through dance. It was high energy all night with the baby face crew.
I think the crowd put us to the test, and we won them all over. Men came out of the woodwork and asked us to dance. I was able to satiate my dance craving, and Sophy finally met the lead singer. I was told I had a nice "aguacate", directly translated means avocado, but means bootie in this scenario. It made me laugh that these girls would even say that to me. Anything goes when you're talking to a stranger I suppose.
The night ended to soon, although I suppose it was time to pry my sandals off for bed. The funny thing was that everyone else was wearing flats. And apparently the two gringas were a head taller than the rest of the crowd. In other words, everyone noticed our high heels, although our intentions were to be decked out latina style.
Happy Birthday Sophus, we did get some good use out of our "in fashion bronze" sparkly numbers.
