Quito is a slimey place and stinks of dirty mustard.

Back in Quito last Thursday and an attempt was made to rob us of our cash and passports in an unorthadox kinda way. We left the hotel in dodgy central (marsical sucre) to grab a quick bite to eat. Slimey thief #1, walked beside us on his mobile phone, probably talking tactics to greasy thief #2. Next minute, slimey thief #1, grabbed our attention by pointing to our backs.

We stopped and both backs were covered in a spray of runny mustard. #1 was insistant that would help clean our clothes with tissues (which apparently appeared from out of nowhere from dust particles). #2 dirty gypo also appeared from nowhere and tried to pull me away to a house where apparently "kids had squirted mustard from the balcony". They were dead keen in removing our jackets, bags and shirts and their story sounded fairly genuine. However, we managed to compose ourselves and headed back around the corner to our hotel (100m away), without taking their assistance of a clean-up. It was not until we were back at the hotel when our driver mentioned that it is a common distraction trick used by a pair of robbers. We were both lucky and now consider ecuadorians as code dodgy.

Next day, we drove up to Otavalo to crash 2 nights in a tree-house looking lodge. The main idea was to shop Saturday in the local markets, which some say are the biggest and best in South America. Whether disagree or not, it was overwhelming to both the senses and wallet.

It was also the very same day the rugby world cup final was on telly. Considering that there was no red lion or irish murphys pub, we ended up at some poor girls bedroom. Around 15 of us crammed our arses in her shoebox apartment as she was the only one that had a sky dish in town.

Later that night we thought we´d check out the best in Otavalo´s night scene. No pole dancing ecuadorians, but a fully staged cockfight. We were at least two hours early and filled the time by suggesting as many cock-jokes as possible. The first fight took the two chooks forever, in a concoction (that´s one) of blood, squeals and feathers. It was brutality that had gone terribly wrong and these fellow sick minded locals were somewhat passionate about the whole function of the game. I would love to write more, but we only lasted one fight and I might also vomit my breakfast fruit over this keyboard.

After a brief stopover in the mountains, we decended in to the Amazon basin. Back at breathing level we stayed at a remote lodge which was only accessible by a duggout powered canoe. It was an amazing 3 days, however my legs look like they´ve been through teenage acne from the bloodthirsty sand flies. I´m still scratching now against the desk post.

Saw lots of amazing bugs, animals etc. but I couldn´t be arsed writing anymore. So adios for now.

Cheers, hatton.