I arrived in Quito yesterday morning. Getting here involved three flights and a full 24 hours of travel. From Houston to Atlanta to Miami to Quito, with about 15 hours of layovers in between. When I stepped out of the airport I fully doubted my ability to be alone in this place for nine weeks, but I contribute that mostly to a lack of sleep.
The trip out was not all that bad. I met a guy from Brazil during my longest layover (almost 9 hours) in Miami. Twenty-one, an aspiring magician (with a degree in marketing), and moving back home after a year of living in New Orleans. He had a real love for Bob Dylan and the Beatles- go figure. We spoke in broken English-Spanish for a few hours before I passed out on the airport floor at 3A.M.
I had intended to couchsurf my first night here in Quito with a couple from London, but feeling as gross as I did when I arrived I decided a hostel would be better (and closer). After a few hours of sleep I felt much better about the city, the country, and my impulsive plane-ticket-buying habits.
I met a guy from Chile who has been traveling for six years by himself- I am not hardcore. We spoke for a few hours- if my Spanish is not much improved after this trip there is no hope for it. As many gringas and toursists as I see around the city I have yet to meet anybody that is not from South America, or that speaks English.
Gerard and I went to a bakery around the corner and to a "minimercado" to get stuff to make tuna sandwhiches. He told me many times how good these Altuns were... very South American. It tasted like the sandwhiches mom made us growing up. I am not so far from home. Orlando and Jose, who work in the hostel, joined us, and we stayed up for much of the night talking and joking. The people I have met so far have been amazing, and good people definitely take away the stings of homesickness.
