The bumpy bus ride to Otavalo

Today we are back in Otavalo, soley for the purpose of emailing and getting cash. The village Pucara where we are based is very isolated and very small, and there is just one tiny shop that sells biscuits and drinks and icecreams and operates the public telephone. Otavalo is is the closest city, a very bumpy 2 hours away by bus, and famous for the big markets. It's nice here and a lot of people wear traditional dress - the young men wear white pants and have very long straight black hair that they plait, and the women wear long straight black skirts and big lacey blouses with a sash at the waist. Both men and women wear little cotton tie up sandals. The bus was full this morning so we (Claire and Stacey) were standing awkwardly in the aisle and getting thrown about with each pothole. After about an hour Stacey was feeling exhausted and distinctly queasy. It didn't help that two people were throwing up out the windows, ignoring the bus assistant who was gently urging little plastic bags at them. After another half an hour, when we didnt know how much more we could take, two sweet old men in panama hats and woollen cardigans smiled at us and offered us their seats. We were so happy and relieved we could have kissed their sweet brown wrinkled faces.