On Meeting an Inca King and Stabbings in Ecuador

When we leave New Zealand and campervan Brit, we’re craving a little bit of city time and a lot of warmth. So we opt to stay in our first destination in South America, Santiago de Chile, for a good couple weeks to acclimate to the new continent and slow down our travels a bit. We take a week-long Spanish class and spend the rest of our time just getting to know the city before heading to Quito, Ecuador for another 10 days. October’s a relaxed month, which suits us just fine knowing that November will be full of long bus rides, world-famous sights to see, and expensive border crossings.

Our favorites pisco sours in Santiago | Typical Chilean snack food

We just get better and better at selfies

Santiago turns out to be a great introduction city to South America. It's vastly different than anywhere we've been yet on this trip, and yet still first world enough to ease me in to things without letting the innate American drugs!/kidnappings!/danger! thoughts of South America take the reins. We discover the cute little bar/café/hipster area, Las Tarrias, on our first evening and gladly spend many more afternoons in its narrow streets.

Our first encounter with the completely nonchalant South American street dogs

Yup, another pisco | Las Tarrias

So Santiago LOVES '90s grunge bands. Still. You'll apparently find them alive and kicking there!

A lot of our time spent in the hostel is unfortunately spent not sleeping, seeing as we've gotten ourselves the worst (read: noisiest) room in a bit of a party hostel. But hey, the whole ordeal makes us surprisingly more social than we expect of our old selves. We chat with young American English tutors, sweet Brazilian and Israeli couples, and I meet my favorite human from our time in Chile whom we fondly refer to as My Inca König (King). Dude is amazing. It all starts when, during a hostel bbq night, he keeps half-subtly staring at me before working up the nerve to talk to me. Next thing I know, he shyly whispers, "I am sorry, but you look so much like my ex-girlfriend." Being as minimally awkward as I can, I respond something to the effect of, "oh..." which turns out to be the invitation he needs to pour out his life story to me.

I first learn of the five German girlfriends he's had in the past year (maybe I look like one of them?) (Also, five in one year all in Peru! He clearly knows how to woo the adventurous/naive little German travelers) with intermittent nervous laughter and repeated exclamations of, "it's so weird, you look just like her!" To which I occasionally respond, just to clear things up, "you know I'm not her, right...?" (I'm not sure he does).

That's My Inca König in the middle of sweet Brazilian girl, random dude, and me rocking an attractive stick-on mustache...

Micha is pretty convinced they should take the Führer-style mustaches out of the mustache sticker packs...

The conversation ends with My Inca König informing me he's from Peru where they "speak the most beautiful Spanish of anywhere. Ask anyone. Even the Chilenos. They'll tell you." This has me very intrigued for Peruvian Spanish because the Chilenos have a tendency to leave off the last syllables in every word and I wouldn't mind hearing full words some day. Or hearing "beautiful" Spanish, which I'm not convinced actually exists. When My Inca König then finds out that we're heading to Peru soon, he willingly gives me a history lesson about Cusco and the surrounding region and then proceeds to tell me about how he is descended from the Incas. Not just any Incas, of course. "From the Inca kings. You can tell by the nose. The nose is descended from kings," he says, pointing proudly to his long, straight, königliche nose (see above picture).

Micha at La Moneda

Obligatory Virgin on a Mountain statue | the smog-covered Andes

An accidental order of the "interesting" Michelada, a beer cocktail of sorts with lime juice, peppers, and a salted rim

Chile has a few national dishes, such as this one, Bife a lo Pobre. Clearly, it is not a big culinary destination.

All in all, we're surprised at how much we like Santiago. Many aspects of it remind us of Berlin, which helps us avoid homesickness as we reach the halfway point in our trip. The people are carefree and don’t seem to work terribly much. They’re not overfriendly but not rude and don’t seem to care much whether you like their city or not. The buildings in Santiago are a conglomeration of gorgeous, run down old European-style ones, ugly new Plattenbau-esque monstrosities, and everything in between. All with a familiar layer of graffiti and street art strewn about. We leave happy to know that we’ll be back here two more times for more exploring before heading back to Germany.

Cobblestones commemorating the persecute who once lived here, just like we have in Berlin

Happy camper

Our fondness for Santiago makes our transition to Quito that much harder. The fact that the Lonely Planet writes in every other sentence just how dangerous the city is doesn't help much. But, we have two missions there that we cannot abort. One: reunion with Kai, Micha's little brother, who has embarked on a three-month South American adventure during the time between ending his studies and starting his first full-time job; and two: the following week, we fly from Quito to Miami for sister's wedding! And lots and lots of delicious Italian food, spritzes, and family time.

Reunion with Kai! Obviously, we get up to our favorite hoppy pasttime

Unfortunately, our first day in Quito doesn't exactly assuage our safety concerns. After the hostel owner, who we get to know quite well over the next week, points out on a map all of the danger spots that we shouldn't go to in the city, she then proceeds to tell us about a girl staying in our hostel who got stabbed that morning. Stabbed.

A few hours later, after our heartrates have recovered a bit, we met said stabbed girl and learn the whole story - namely, she was not stabbed dead nor on any vital organs, but "just" on the hands and leg, while resisting a mugging (in one of the spots that should be avoided). Lesson learned, we tell ourselves: don't put up a fight against muggers in Ecuador. We start to feely oddly protective of the sweet little stabbed British girl over the course of the next few days and find ourselves, along with Kai, spending our evenings in the hostel with her and some beers, homecooked meals, and even a movie night. We're also gathering up the courage to venture out into the darkness in Quito seeing as, despite all the warnings, the town doesn't actually seem that dangerous now that we've spent a few days there. Our camera hasn't been stolen or even looked at twice (considering half the people here have DSLRs), and we haven't been mugged or pickpocketed or even felt slightly uncomfortable yet, much to our welcome surprise.

The very charming colors of downtown Quito

Quito had so many pinata shops, it almost made me jump for joy! | The fateful hill (of course with Virgin statue), sight of aforementioned stabbing

Day by day, we realize that, despite the constant safety warnings, we indeed have not landed in the middle of a Brazilian favela. And so we start to spend our days exploring the adorably quaint and colorful old town. We meet up with Kai after his Spanish class to look through the tons of gaudy churches scattered throughout the city. We eat every possible variety of chicken and rice for under $3 and try various beers, including those from a few local microbreweries, all of which underwhelm. We spend one day testing our altitude resilience at the top of the nearby volcano, Pinchincha. There, I'm beyond excited to find two llamas and a supremely dorky poncho and hat just waiting for a 50 cent photo opp with me. (True story: I've been waiting for my first llama encounter since we arrived in Santiago two weeks ago. Winning!) We head out of town to put our feet (and gnomey's tush) on the equator line because, hey, when in Rome...

Plastics dolls and blinking lights make Ecuadorian churches really put the holy in there

A couple days before we take off for Miami, and after we've gotten past the whole don't-walk-around-in-the-dark thing, we head out with the hostel volunteer to the opening party of a new microbrewery that Micha's been eager to try out. Three American boys opened the brewery and endear themselves to me immediately when they offer us freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. It's pretty much that easy to win my heart. Seeing these guys just going for it and opening a brewery gets us daydreaming of what we'd do with one. (We meaning Micha. I'd clearly just be useful as resident decorator and taste tester.) Oh the possibilities…

Serious brewery discussion

Random fact: Ecuador has the BEST berry shakes and fresh juices ever

Our final evening we spend with sweet little British girl, Iona, and her Scottish father, who’s flown in to make sure she’s really all right. We hit up the final microbrewery in the city for beers and burgers in the neighborhood aptly called Gringolandia. Scottish dad is easily one of our favorite people, and not just because of his amazing accent. We compare stories of travels in Cambodia and Malaysia, thirty years apart and spend pretty much the entire evening laughing and trying not to spit out our beer in the process. The most handy thing he teaches us that night is the meaning of the tongue-in-cheek name of the microbrewery (clearly started by Scots, he says), Turtle’s Head. It’s too inappropriate to list here but I’ll just hint that it has to do with every German’s favorite topic: what happens while sitting on the toilet.

This is the night I learn that my pink phone cover very noticeably covers and affects the camera flash...

The airport nerds take us to the former Quito airport that's now a lovely city park

Next stop: more family time and lots of sunshine in Miami. Only a four-hour flight stands between us and an unplanned but eagerly awaited twinsie reunion!