January 22nd, 2015 (Videos Coming Soon)
I wake up Monday after a fitful sleep, feeling sicker than I did the day before, but I refuse to let that deter me. Today is why I came to Banos, Why I go many places actually, waterfalls. Tomorrow I leave Banos, so this is my last chance.
I enjoy a quick breakfast and get instructions from Hostel Recreo owner Marcelo to find the public bus which plies the route. Many people choose to rent mountain bikes and do it that way, but sick as I am that’s not an option and when reflecting I believe the buses are better suited to this route unless you love cycling and are comfortable doing so on fairly narrow crowded mountain roads. (Especially crowded and loud on weekends, like all things in Banos go on a weekday.
The bus leaves a block up from the market place where I so enjoyed a lunch earlier. I climb aboard easily enough and some friendly locals agree to tell me when to climb off for the first waterfall: Agoyan falls. (25 cents by public bus)
The falls are more frustration than anything else as they lay on the far side of a huge gorge and there’s no way down at all and the only ways across are a cable car (10$ or a zip line 15$). I end up running into a friend of mine from Quito who is braver than I and is opting to do the zip line. She was kind enough to wear my go pro. (You see even when I don’t feel up to something I find a way to get the coverage.)
Once the zip line is done I hurry back to the road and catching another passing bus almost instantaneously, asking the driver to let me know when we reach Manto de la Novia. Maybe 15 minutes later I’m climbing out of the bus and catching site of these gorgeous twin cascades across the gorge. This time though you can walk down, and the cable cars on offer are also much cheaper at 1.50 return.
I decide to hike down to the falls and eventually reach a long hanging bridge over the rushing river. I cross the bridge only to find the property allowing access to the waterfall locked up and empty. (Perhaps one advantage of going on the weekend). I’m pretty annoyed as I know the hike back up is going to be long and very frustrating and so I try not to give up.
I search for ways to get down to the river and attempt a crossing but am met with cliffs at each turn, ones I don’t want to try descending sick as I am. I end up finding a way over the bridge and into the property after a while by climbing over the edge of the bridge and edging my way along, but decide that trespassing in a foreign country is a very bad idea.
But every tragedy has a silver lining and as I climb back up I see this fascinating blue faced bird before climbing onto the Tarabita and enjoying an improved view of the falls.
At that point I head back onto the road and endure my longest wait for a bus yet, all of 5 minutes which I fill improving my Spanish by talking to a young Ecuadorian woman who is studying to become a teacher. Before we know it the bus is here dropping off her young son (Family’s start young in Ecuador) and I’m climbing aboard a bus full of Ecuadorian students. The driver doesn’t seem to mind me coming though and for another 25 cents he drops me at the final falls on my program (There are a few more farther along) Pailon Del Diablo.
I climb out of the bus and head down the trail, quite exhausted and still very sick. The path down is longer than I’d hoped for and steeper too, but all fatigue is forgotten as I climb up onto the first of many balconies and my jaw drops at these beautiful two tiered falls, the mist bursting up into the air in cloud like formations.
I descend down onto the lowest balcony whee I’m blessed to be absolutely alone for a few minutes, (Go on a weekday) and revel in the feeling of almost being a part of the tumultuous pool below. I eventually head back up and do something no man my size should have to do, crawling through a in crevice towards the back of the falls. I end up slithering like a snake at a few points but it’s all worth it when I emerge on another viewing balcony looking down on the others and just a few feet from the tumbling pillar of water.
The final balcony lies behind the cascades themselves, and me being me I can’t pass this up, even though it means getting soaked. I strip down, dance up the stairs, and lean out precariously over the stone fence, burying myself under the powerful torrent of water.
I extend my arms out into the heart of the beast and almost have them ripped out of their sockets before hurrying back down to the dryer balcony below. Of course once is never enough, and before long I’m back under the flow a few more times before finally deciding to pack up and head back towards the road. I’m joined by a friendly british man from Leeds named Chris.
Before leaving the falls behind entirely we head down to a hanging bridge far below the falls for one last photo op of Pailon del Diablo.
Or so we think.
We head up the trail, which seems longer than it is sick as I am. Still, we stop near the top for a refreshing Jugo de Mora and then decide that we haven’t had enough of the falls. The hanging bridges we saw above the falls calling to us. After inquiring with the friendly lady who ran the juice stall, we find out it’s only 10-15minutes away and that seals the deal.
Back on the main road we head over the bridge and take our first left, following that road until it leads us back to the rushing river, which in and of itself is pretty damn beautiful.
Continuing along the river we find the entrance and pay our 1.50 USD fee before continuing towards the huge falls. Before we get there though we encounter a smaller set of falls, a huge flow of water tumbling down into a serene looking pool surrounded by overhanging trees.
I worry Chris by discussing how much fun it would be to go over the falls as if they were a water slide. He seems slightly puzzled when he points out I’d be lucky to escape with only serious injuries and it doesn’t seem to deter my desire.
Luckily for both of us a hummingbird appears and beings zipping around stealing my attention. I manage to get a good photo or two in one of it’s rare moments of rest, probably the first good photos of a hummingbird I’ve had all trip.
We continue along the rough jungle trail until we stumble out onto a precipice and a view of the two impressive hanging bridges. They dangle out over the canopy providing stunning panoramic views, including the tumbling turret of water that is Pailon del Diablo. The first bridge hangs at a surprisingly sharp downward angle and my first step I half slip and catch myself on the ropes beside it. That sets my heart to racing and the various poorly patched or un-patched wholes in the wooden planks keeping us from falling to our deaths do nothing to slow that beating heart.
As we reach the far end of the bridge we both stop walking, captivated by the scene below us and eventually reaching for our cameras to capture the scene which seems to leap off the pages of a particularly vivid fantasy novel. The carved stone balconies only add to the natural beauty of the entire scene, the white water cascading down the cliffside, and crashing into the turbulent pool below. We both take more photos than either of us could possibly need, but it’s hard to stop, each minor change in angle revealing a new beauty of the scene. Definitely more than worth the 1.50.
We head down across the second bridge and down the carved stone pathways until we’re again just beside the falls, snapping more pictures of the entire scene until a cool looking bird joins us on a nearby branch. After another 15 minutes or so just relishing the energy of the place we decide it’s time to head back to Banos.
I’ve spent most of the day forgetting that I’m sick, but the walk back up reminds me of it. Still it’s been an incredible day full of waterfalls, and worth the few extra days of sickness I certainly earned while entering Pailon del Diablo. Still, during the walk back I decide I finally understand why Banos gets rave reviews, it’s not the gringo infested city, it’s the stuff around it, waterfalls, bungee jumping, rafting, hiking and so much more. It’s a little reminiscent of San Gil Colombia, with a few more gringos.
At any rate, after snapping a few final photos of the river, Chris and I hurry back onto the main road just in time to catch a bus pulling away, and after we’ve paid our 50 cent fare we climb aboard and chat through the hour or so long ride back to Banos.
Climbing off the bus we grab a burger (Okay I had two but I’d eaten nothing all day), and then we go our separate ways, myself slowly walking back to Hostal El Recreo. Little do I know it’s not the last I’ll see of my friend from Leeds.
I head to bed early, knowing that the next day it’s time to leave Banos and move on to my next adventure, the tiny town of Guamote which is still off the tourist trail. Hopefully another Ecuadorian gem. I love this country. I love my life.
