I had read such brutal reviews of the hacienda, and was pleasantly surprised at how much I liked it last night. We wandered through the grounds, reading the historical notes and admiring the photographs depicting the life of the hacienda over the past 450 years. The buildings were not well kept, but maintained some of their former grandeur. There was a large church on the property, which took care of the surrounding community for hundreds of years, and a private chapel near the main building, which served as a church well into the 1900s. The priest who presided for almost eighty years had several children who helped with the service. There was one section of the hacienda which housed the scribes, who detailed each day every activity and transaction which took place on the hacienda. The hacienda had been massive, and was supported by and supported the lives of hundreds of indigenous people. Land reforms in the 1960's limited the size of the hacienda, and it was divided up between family members. The remaining buildings are crumbling down, I imagine the cost to maintain the hacienda is crippling.
No one was around when we arrived last night. Our key sat outside the office,s o we were able to enter our room. Maya played her violin while I rummaged through all the purchases we had made. She played her charango rather well for having never learned how. I found someone in the kitchen at dinnertime. A couple with a child showed up with a reservation and could not find someone to help them. When they finally found a hotel employee, they had their pick of rooms for the night, because there was just one other couple in the whole hacienda, with dozens of empty rooms. It felt spooky but safe, and we wandered throughout every room that we had access to, except for what appeared to be the home of the owner. He was a colourful man. We found four walls covered with plaques in the games room, along with a ping pong and pool table. The plaques were commendations and awards and appreciative words, for his time as a water works engineer and mayor of the nearby town.
Dinner was simple but tasty. The dining room was bright yellow, with photos of the hacienda from long ago and the present. We built a big fire in our room for the night and cuddled in our beds to be warm. It was truly peaceful and calm, and we slept well. I was up early and raring to go for our horse ride. Breakfast was generous, and we met with Luis, our guide by 8 AM. Eric had no interest in riding, and chose to work on a grant using the hotel's excellent internet.
I was dismayed to see that Luis was riding a mule. Maya and I had good looking Arabian horses (or at least some Arabian blood!) with energy and enthusiasm. I wanted to visit a pucara high up in the mountains, but Luis felt that was too far for a three to four hour ride. Instead, we wandered around the valley, taking dirt roads up and around the many rose factories in the area. We found a railroad track and followed it for some distance. At one time, raw materials were brought in by rail and goods were taken out that way too. We ran into a spaghetti factory. We passed unfinished houses and massive mansions, some farmers working in their fields, and locals playing soccer. Luis said very little to us, and when I wanted to gallop, my horse could not run slow enough to stay behind the mule, so I was frustrated that I could not go faster than a trot. I also had the most painful saddle ever. I usually ride English, and was told that a western saddle was more comfortable. That was not the case today, and I am suffering the effects of my painful saddle this evening!
I was disappointed in the ride. Luis is not meant to be a guide. He did his job, was entirely uninterested in entertaining us, did the four hours up and down and around, and headed home in time for the finish. Maya walked in silence. When we arrived at the hacienda, I had planned to take a swim in the pool, but Eric was a little upset that the bill was so high---the tax was $40, 22.5 %!!!!! We paid and left.
Eric had been warned that a car race was happening, but no one stopped us from leaving the driveway and heading to the Pana. We were stopped by a group of people with a huge soldering machine. The race had left them stranded and they asked us for a ride. We drove off the road and I had to move all our stuff in the truck so they could enter with their machine. Thankfully, we were off the road when the next car, a souped up Volvo out of control, slammed around the corner. Had we been on the road, we would have been wiped out. I was furious that the hacienda employees had not told us how dangerous it was and thankful that we were safe. We wound around back country roads and found ourselves back at the Mitad del Mundo monument. The drive to Quito through arid and dusty hills felt too long. There is construction everywhere, especially near Quito where the new airport is finished and new roads toward the airport are getting paved and widened. The airport is to open in February, after many fits and starts. When we lived here, the Canadians were very frustrated that the contracts that the former mayor signed were no longer honoured, and much of the money meant to build the airport and pay the contractors had been pocketed by corrupt officials and other criminals. I was surprised to hear that it was finally finished, except that there were no road to the terminal, so for now, at least until we leave Quito, we will be able to use the city airport.
Once home, our cats were happy to see us, and Maya was happy to finish her homework and I was delighted that I had time to pack. I did not realize that I had 26 minutes to get an essay done for my History class, and panicked when I dashed one off at 5:59 and 22 seconds. It is not quite put together, and I was terribly disappointed. I was convinced I had until midnight. Eric helped me with my Mythology essay. I had two written, but was struggling with finding focus in 350 words. Our final product was much better. I am off to Baltimore for another week of intense work and exhaustion. I am not looking forward to this! Our ride to the airport took a little over ten minutes; when the new airport opens it will take over an hour! It was painful to say goodbye to Eric and Maya....I will be back next Sunday!
No one was around when we arrived last night. Our key sat outside the office,s o we were able to enter our room. Maya played her violin while I rummaged through all the purchases we had made. She played her charango rather well for having never learned how. I found someone in the kitchen at dinnertime. A couple with a child showed up with a reservation and could not find someone to help them. When they finally found a hotel employee, they had their pick of rooms for the night, because there was just one other couple in the whole hacienda, with dozens of empty rooms. It felt spooky but safe, and we wandered throughout every room that we had access to, except for what appeared to be the home of the owner. He was a colourful man. We found four walls covered with plaques in the games room, along with a ping pong and pool table. The plaques were commendations and awards and appreciative words, for his time as a water works engineer and mayor of the nearby town.
Dinner was simple but tasty. The dining room was bright yellow, with photos of the hacienda from long ago and the present. We built a big fire in our room for the night and cuddled in our beds to be warm. It was truly peaceful and calm, and we slept well. I was up early and raring to go for our horse ride. Breakfast was generous, and we met with Luis, our guide by 8 AM. Eric had no interest in riding, and chose to work on a grant using the hotel's excellent internet.
I was dismayed to see that Luis was riding a mule. Maya and I had good looking Arabian horses (or at least some Arabian blood!) with energy and enthusiasm. I wanted to visit a pucara high up in the mountains, but Luis felt that was too far for a three to four hour ride. Instead, we wandered around the valley, taking dirt roads up and around the many rose factories in the area. We found a railroad track and followed it for some distance. At one time, raw materials were brought in by rail and goods were taken out that way too. We ran into a spaghetti factory. We passed unfinished houses and massive mansions, some farmers working in their fields, and locals playing soccer. Luis said very little to us, and when I wanted to gallop, my horse could not run slow enough to stay behind the mule, so I was frustrated that I could not go faster than a trot. I also had the most painful saddle ever. I usually ride English, and was told that a western saddle was more comfortable. That was not the case today, and I am suffering the effects of my painful saddle this evening!
I was disappointed in the ride. Luis is not meant to be a guide. He did his job, was entirely uninterested in entertaining us, did the four hours up and down and around, and headed home in time for the finish. Maya walked in silence. When we arrived at the hacienda, I had planned to take a swim in the pool, but Eric was a little upset that the bill was so high---the tax was $40, 22.5 %!!!!! We paid and left.
Eric had been warned that a car race was happening, but no one stopped us from leaving the driveway and heading to the Pana. We were stopped by a group of people with a huge soldering machine. The race had left them stranded and they asked us for a ride. We drove off the road and I had to move all our stuff in the truck so they could enter with their machine. Thankfully, we were off the road when the next car, a souped up Volvo out of control, slammed around the corner. Had we been on the road, we would have been wiped out. I was furious that the hacienda employees had not told us how dangerous it was and thankful that we were safe. We wound around back country roads and found ourselves back at the Mitad del Mundo monument. The drive to Quito through arid and dusty hills felt too long. There is construction everywhere, especially near Quito where the new airport is finished and new roads toward the airport are getting paved and widened. The airport is to open in February, after many fits and starts. When we lived here, the Canadians were very frustrated that the contracts that the former mayor signed were no longer honoured, and much of the money meant to build the airport and pay the contractors had been pocketed by corrupt officials and other criminals. I was surprised to hear that it was finally finished, except that there were no road to the terminal, so for now, at least until we leave Quito, we will be able to use the city airport.
Once home, our cats were happy to see us, and Maya was happy to finish her homework and I was delighted that I had time to pack. I did not realize that I had 26 minutes to get an essay done for my History class, and panicked when I dashed one off at 5:59 and 22 seconds. It is not quite put together, and I was terribly disappointed. I was convinced I had until midnight. Eric helped me with my Mythology essay. I had two written, but was struggling with finding focus in 350 words. Our final product was much better. I am off to Baltimore for another week of intense work and exhaustion. I am not looking forward to this! Our ride to the airport took a little over ten minutes; when the new airport opens it will take over an hour! It was painful to say goodbye to Eric and Maya....I will be back next Sunday!
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