Salinas? Not gonna happen...

So the gentleman at the front desk woke me up at 5:45 am and I still couldn't get motivated, so I missed both buses to Salinas. Walking up the stairs to the bus terminal, at the top of the stairs came walking a cow and two sheep, as though starting their morning stroll through town. Their owner followed shortly thereafter, but at first it looked like a group of friends walking to the market, chatting or something.

So I got on the bus headed south to the coast. We just passed a house with tires on the roof. There must have been thirty, holding down the tin roof of the house. On the radio, so far I've heard Streets of Philadelphia, You Can Do Magic(remember that one?!?), Red, Red Wine, and I Can't Live, If Living Is Without You. Interspersed have been a few songs in Spanish. Sometimes I can't tell if people put on English radio, television, subtitles because I'm there or if it's totally random. It's kind of nice but then again not necessary. Ah, here we go...Shakira's on now.

Last night the son of the owner of the hotel kind of hit on me, I think. And today on the bus a man took the seat right next to me in the front. Of all the 40 other seats available, he had to sit next to me. And then engage me in conversation...it made me nervous. It's so different from New York where you only speak to people you know, unless you're a tourist and lost. For some reason I was uncomfortable in Guaranda. I was the only non-Guarandan (made that word up) there and people stare at foreigners. It was kind of off-putting. I think that added to it. Anyway, Alex and Jesus (both of the guys) were really nice after all. I was just bugging.

Out of the highlands, the people of the lowlands live in houses on stilts. Looks like bamboo. They construct 30 foot long bridges directly from the road to their front doors. Could be dangerous getting home after a night of fiestas.

It's a trip the way the people view the differences in climate in different regions. On the bus this morning still in the mountains, I had the window open all the way, enjoying the wind and breeze. It was probably, say, 67 degrees and the man in the seat behind me asked me to shut it because he was cold. Luz Maria who worked at the hotel in Guaranda made mention of how hot Guayaquil is. It's funny. I'm not sure what temperature is just right for Ecuadorians.

So, I made it to Montañita, a small mellow surfing town. There's also a coastal Salinas, apparently the hot spot for Guayaqueños. Skipped that one too....