On the Road to Patagonia, one River at a Time

Dear ones, 

I've taken a little hiatus from writing, at least for this blog, but I promise to continue, well, eventually. IN the meantime, here are some silly little pictures to make you miss me. I am writing from the lush village of Vilcabamba, one hour south of Loja and six hours from Cuenca. I came down here for some R&R before venturing into Peru tomorrow morning. Vilcabamba is known for the so-called magical qualities of its water, which irrigate this lovely place so that its inhabitants may grow any manner of crops. It also attracts any number of blond, dreadlocked hippies with blonde, free-looking children who flit barefoot in the town's adorable square. So many hippies! So much broken Spanish! Admittedly adorable nevertheless.

And, the people who live here (supposedly) get to be 120 or 130 years old. I suggest that perhaps they don't know their own birthdays. Isaac, my new friend here, suggests that the people eat organic, simple food, drink clean water, hike all the time to their huts and their friends' huts and their jobs, and don't know their own birthdays. In any case, I've passed a number of viejos, and I always want to ask them their age. I refrain.

So, yesterday Isaac took me up into the hills, in search of a waterfall. We never did find the waterfall....unless, by waterfall, the people mean a pitiful trickle on a hillside that flows into the larger river of Eternal Life. So, don't worry, we never met the grand cascada face to face, but Isaac did make me ford this rushing river twice. I got soaked! It was scary! Here are the pictures to prove it. Thanks for a lovely time of it, Isaac!

                                                 

              

Isn't Isaac nice you guys? He kindly documented my treacherous passage. 

Missing you all. Besitos! Kate