After our now daily ritual of porridge, disappointed at not having picked up and Colombian souvys, dashed out to some nearby stalls. After a quick bit of haggling we had our wares, but it was almost a costly shop. Our taxi sat in traffic trying to get out of Bogota for what seemed like hours, then we were greeted at the airport by the biggest check-in queue I have ever seen. Fortunately after a while, given there was no way we would get our flight we were allowed to queue jump. So without further ado we were in country number 12, checking in at our hostel between Quito's old and new towns. Having heard many tales of the dangers of Quito, half jogged to the old town to get there before dark. Sat in Plaza Grande for a bit admiring the colonial buildings, wandered a few more cobbled streets before opting for the safety of a restaurant. A lovely restaurant it was too - sat on the rooftop terrace admiring the twinkling lights of Quito old town, listening to local music, sampling some Ecuadorian pilsner and Andean trout.