Story: Ecuador by Bus: The only way to fly through the mountains

“The bus to Banos leaves in 5 minutes” said the man in the ticket booth. We darted out of the terminal door, through the turnstile and into a long row of buses. Vendors and people are everywhere, some shouted out their destinations “Abmato!” “Ambato!” We walked from one end of the row to the other and found our bus. After a quick confirmation from the driver, we were in.

It is a fairly nice bus, no more than 30 years old. The chair padding and curtains were dark in areas with stain, but it could be avoided. I surveyed the cabin, plenty of room. I think I will put my backpack in the seat next to me. Passengers trickle on, but it is still less than half full. I check the time and it’s ten after. After a few more people come on we begin to pull out of the terminal over 15 minutes late. We crawl at a snails pace scooping up locals as we exit the main road out of the terminal. Departure time seems to be more of a general recommendation rather than a time to adhere to. A man at the doorway takes their money as they hop on one by one.

We leave the terminal and the driver seems to take every side street he can. I felt a force within my self that wanted to will the bus to go faster. My foot pushes on an imaginary pedal, but it has no effect.
Greyhound this is not. “Okay, I thought he is just finding the main highway.” We seem to almost double back. I have to put my backpack on my lap due to the bus filling to capacity. I begin to realize that the driver and “doorman” are paid based on good attendance.

Finally we are out of the city and moving at a good pace for 20 minutes, zipping through the switchbacks with only a few small rocks on the edge of a cliff to keep us from falling to our doom. The bus begins to slow down as a small foothill town approaches on the horizon. A group of people wave us down. Before they get on vendor after vendor come on the bus selling everything water, juice to Ceviche Caliente. I was half interested in this new cultural experience and half wondering how long we would have to wait for them to get off. They did eventually leave. The bus pulled out of the one-road town and picked up the pace again. I leaned back in my seat, as I knew we were in for an interesting ride.

My advice when traveling by bus in Ecuador is to forget about your own personal sense of time and be open to what you experience. You might hear a sales pitch form a Columbian selling jewelry with a puppet singing “Sensual, Sensual. Sexy, Sexy” or have an opportunity to share some candy with indigenous women. How can a bus ride be slow or boring when the bus driver has to swerve for oncoming cars as he takes the turn too wide?

And when you are out of the mountains: take a nap, delete bad photos, research accommodations, and don’t forget to point the camera out the window. You will notice people almost posing for you as the bus passes by.

Ahh the bus, you might loose a little time, but you are traveling with the people. Is this not what travel is all about?