Today Sophie and I caught a bus out of the ever-celebrating Otavalo and landed ourselves in a gorgeous hacienda to the north. We´ve been seeing a lot of pretty, crumbling Spanish architecture, much of which has been turned into nice hideouts for tourists.
We took a standing room only bus with the locals to this little town...me squatting on my backpack while Sophie helped a little girl tie her bracelet.
Heading back into the weaving villages this afternoon, and I´m wishing I had time to shop for some piece of cloth. Alas, I´ll just keep shopping for food...I may turn into a giant empanada by the time I got home. Tried chica yesterday straight from huge roiling cauldrons heated by wood fires. Still digesting like a normal person, but you always wonder when eating what will put you over the edge. It´s a weird hypochondria that plagues travelers...never ending attention to the gut.
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