There’s a first time for everything, and travel means accepting the bad with the good. So today, I’m licking my wounds and regrouping.
It started off innocently enough. I booked a ticket for the Hop On Hop Off bus, looking to get a sense of Quito beyond the historic centre. The bus stop was just up the street from me but I went a little early to make sure I didn’t miss it.
As I stood on the corner, I felt something wet fall from above. I ran my hand through my hair expecting pigeon poop but whatever it was, it was clear. About two minutes later a guy came by and told me in broken English that there was pigeon poop on me and offered to clean it off. He had a tissue and wanted me to walk to a nearby fountain. I said no because I didn’t want to miss the bus. A second guy appeared and together they wiped the back of my shirt. I thanked them, and seeing the bus coming, ran for it and boarded.
I told the guide about the incident and she immediately asked if I had all of my belongings. I checked and said yes, and she said it was my lucky day. I found this odd.
It wasn’t until we reached a lookout high above the city that I realized something was missing. I bought a Tree of Life necklace at an outdoor kiosk and thought I’d wear it right away. When I went to take off my gold chain – the one with my beloved map of Africa charm – I realized it was missing. And I realized what the tour guide had meant when she called me lucky.
I alerted the Tourist Police (who are present on the buses) and he suggested I file a police report, so we got off the bus at the next stop and he accompanied me back to the station. The Quito police don’t speak much English, and there was no way my Spanish lessons had prepared me for describing perpetrators, so it was a lively conversation filled with hand gestures and a real life game of Pictionary. In the end, we got it done, and while they wouldn’t go so far as to let me take their picture (I asked), we did have a few laughs in the process.
I returned to my Airbnb to find an email from my host Juancho. My eye glasses which I forgot in Canada have arrived, and the government wanted $79.05 US in tariffs and customs charges. This is on top of the $131 CAD I paid Canada Post to ship them.
The last straw was when I took off my (new) shirt to find black stains all over it from whatever they threw on me.
The good news? I wasn’t hurt. The police were excellent. And my host Juancho has been incredibly kind and helpful. He is calling Customs this morning to try to sort things out and took my shirt with him to get it dry cleaned. And he fed me cake last night.