Day 1
Assuming I can spare you the details of London transport, Heathrow airport and in-flight entertainment, I should at least mention Miami. I made a concerted effort not to judge a place of which my only experience was to be an aerial view and an airport, but I felt a few notes on the aerial view on approach were justified.
As soon as it came into view, I was struck by the absolute squareness of it all. For a start, the city itself is designed on a grid pattern, but it goes beyond that. Even the white sandy beach, as lovely as they looked on that sunny afternoon, ran in a straight line, with the city gridlines running parallel and perpendicular up to them. Even the lagoons and lakes, even the fields and remaining patches of forest, were carved up by a setsquare, with the white roads running into the white rock banks around the water.
Even when within the roads attempts were made to curve the roads, they connected the corners or bisected the edges, like on square cardboard tiles for toy cars. The only exceptions were those squares where the cluster of houses in the middle was surrounded by one of the many golf courses.
The few roads like that in England were mostly built by the Romans- since then, we have preferred to go around the hills- but there is the crux of the matter; the overwhelming squareness is a product of the complete flatness. There are no hills, so why make roads longer than necessary?
As we began our final descent, the next things to strike me were the palm trees, a reminder that we’re already getting into the tropics, as they lined the white roads and flanked the white houses with red rooves. Then the pilot announced that the temperature outside was 32°C.
Finally, touchdown- a quick look out of the window to readjust to the ground-level perspective: what would have been forest ten minutes ago is grass (I briefly wonder what sort- it has a red tinge- quite possibly rather xerophytic) and then I’m back in the Homogenised Republic of Airportland.
Flying out in another direction, the coastline cuts diagonally across the grid and is not quite so smooth, but still the edges are straight and sudden. As we go up and out, we pass over what look like massive sand bars, or maybe even reefs, yellow under the water with bright green edges. And then we are back over open water and stacks of fluffy cloud.
By the time we flew into Quito, it was dark- along with the equatorial lack of seasonality is a lack of variation in day length. As we approach, I could already appreciate what they mean by the garua mist, but that’s below us: above that I could see the moon, a few stars and something far too bright to be a star and too high to be another plane- must be a planet or satellite.
Well, they say you should always watch the sunset in any new place, and I say that definitely includes the ‘new place’ of ‘above the clouds’. There was still a line of light sky along the cloud horizon- a dip-dyed sky, from daylight to midnight through one port hole, and none so dark as the cloud blanket below.
At first as we started descending into Quito, everywhere was dark except for patchy strips- street lamps, perhaps?- no, headlights. In the distance, they wound up a mountain, too.
But then we got to the city, fully lit. Quito is also designed on a grid system, but far smaller and less regular than that of Miami. As we descended further, it all looked surprisingly modern/Western- high rise buildings, (many apparently dating from an oil boom in the 1970s), electric lights, advertising signs, and the big airport itself- but then this is the centre of the capital city, it’s the rural areas where the infrastructure tends to lag behind (not necessarily meant in entirely a bad way from an ecological/ anthropological perspective).
I passed through customs far quicker than in Miami despite the fact that I was actually staying there more than three hours, and was met by the driver to take me to my hostel. He also picked up three boys from Paris who were staying at one of Jatun Sacha’s mainland stations.
I arrived at Hotel de Posada del Maple, with my first thought being to let Mum, Dad and John know I was there. I hadn’t been able to get to a phone but eventually found an internet texting service.
The hotel- well, more a backpackers’ hostel, really- was clean and comfortable, with hot showers and free internet. The other guests were mainly students- volunteers, backpackers, or enrolled at Spanish schools. Another two are going to mainland Jatun Sacha stations, but none for San Cristobal yet. Anyway, after the flight and time difference, I went to bed fairly early and slept pretty well.
As soon as it came into view, I was struck by the absolute squareness of it all. For a start, the city itself is designed on a grid pattern, but it goes beyond that. Even the white sandy beach, as lovely as they looked on that sunny afternoon, ran in a straight line, with the city gridlines running parallel and perpendicular up to them. Even the lagoons and lakes, even the fields and remaining patches of forest, were carved up by a setsquare, with the white roads running into the white rock banks around the water.
Even when within the roads attempts were made to curve the roads, they connected the corners or bisected the edges, like on square cardboard tiles for toy cars. The only exceptions were those squares where the cluster of houses in the middle was surrounded by one of the many golf courses.
The few roads like that in England were mostly built by the Romans- since then, we have preferred to go around the hills- but there is the crux of the matter; the overwhelming squareness is a product of the complete flatness. There are no hills, so why make roads longer than necessary?
As we began our final descent, the next things to strike me were the palm trees, a reminder that we’re already getting into the tropics, as they lined the white roads and flanked the white houses with red rooves. Then the pilot announced that the temperature outside was 32°C.
Finally, touchdown- a quick look out of the window to readjust to the ground-level perspective: what would have been forest ten minutes ago is grass (I briefly wonder what sort- it has a red tinge- quite possibly rather xerophytic) and then I’m back in the Homogenised Republic of Airportland.
Flying out in another direction, the coastline cuts diagonally across the grid and is not quite so smooth, but still the edges are straight and sudden. As we go up and out, we pass over what look like massive sand bars, or maybe even reefs, yellow under the water with bright green edges. And then we are back over open water and stacks of fluffy cloud.
By the time we flew into Quito, it was dark- along with the equatorial lack of seasonality is a lack of variation in day length. As we approach, I could already appreciate what they mean by the garua mist, but that’s below us: above that I could see the moon, a few stars and something far too bright to be a star and too high to be another plane- must be a planet or satellite.
Well, they say you should always watch the sunset in any new place, and I say that definitely includes the ‘new place’ of ‘above the clouds’. There was still a line of light sky along the cloud horizon- a dip-dyed sky, from daylight to midnight through one port hole, and none so dark as the cloud blanket below.
At first as we started descending into Quito, everywhere was dark except for patchy strips- street lamps, perhaps?- no, headlights. In the distance, they wound up a mountain, too.
But then we got to the city, fully lit. Quito is also designed on a grid system, but far smaller and less regular than that of Miami. As we descended further, it all looked surprisingly modern/Western- high rise buildings, (many apparently dating from an oil boom in the 1970s), electric lights, advertising signs, and the big airport itself- but then this is the centre of the capital city, it’s the rural areas where the infrastructure tends to lag behind (not necessarily meant in entirely a bad way from an ecological/ anthropological perspective).
I passed through customs far quicker than in Miami despite the fact that I was actually staying there more than three hours, and was met by the driver to take me to my hostel. He also picked up three boys from Paris who were staying at one of Jatun Sacha’s mainland stations.
I arrived at Hotel de Posada del Maple, with my first thought being to let Mum, Dad and John know I was there. I hadn’t been able to get to a phone but eventually found an internet texting service.
The hotel- well, more a backpackers’ hostel, really- was clean and comfortable, with hot showers and free internet. The other guests were mainly students- volunteers, backpackers, or enrolled at Spanish schools. Another two are going to mainland Jatun Sacha stations, but none for San Cristobal yet. Anyway, after the flight and time difference, I went to bed fairly early and slept pretty well.