Though it’s relatively small, there’s a wealth of information there. There’s plenty of trail for a leisurely stroll, and a range of history spanning a variety topics and timelines. Paired with gorgeous views of the bay, ocean, and city below, it’s a true urban oasis. We had the good fortune to hang out briefly with a ranger while she was showing a small group a snake, and there was no shortage of things to do and explore. We came away with a lot of new information.
We don’t aim to waste your time with grammatically questionable negativity; we’ll leave that to the “Elite” Yelper, that paragon of oxymorons. These spots all have the Two by Tour seal of approval. We hope this list encourages you to take your own trip, try something new, or just support hard-working businesses that are doing everything right.
Cuenca’s position in the foothills makes it a city of layers. We climbed a long stairwell, past graffiti, and cafes, to the Plazoleta Cruz del Vado. The charming plaza is circled by museums, shops, multi-level houses, and craftsmen’s studios. A prominent statue depicts Ecuador’s version of a greasy pole contest and a large cross sits sheltered in a gazebo of sorts, providing protection to travelers. However, its real draw is a balcony offering panoramic views of the new city and the towering peaks of the Andes Mountains behind it. Our plans for staying in Cuenca were undetermined. We gazed out onto the red tile rooftops and allowed the city to make a case for itself.
Most everyone, even those who haven’t been to a beach, understand that it’s a good thing. Even as a child living next to Lake Erie, I would leap at the chance to go to Huntington Beach, or even Rocky River Park, just to be on the sand and hear the waves. While I am certainly no expert, having only recently upped my ocean count by one, the Southern California coast was a truly luxurious experience. Being able to take advantage of an October heatwave and play in the Pacific Ocean is something that would make a younger J’s head explode. The impossible made possible by the mere passage of time.
A glance toward the fuel gauge interrupted my enchantment. After our scare in West Texas, we had agreed to stay above 1/4 tank, and I alerted J that I’d be stopping at the next gas station to be safe. Cell reception was nonexistent in this remote stretch, but GPS alerted us to a number of nearing towns. We reverted back to taking in the breathtaking scene surrounding us. A closed general store situated at a crossroads made up the entirety of the town of Cima. Elora was a modest industrial plant of some sort. With the needle moving rapidly lower we came upon the railroad crossing that was the town of Hayden. Our humor was evaporating in time with our gas fumes.