Sick as un perro

Spot the difference. I´m sick. Woke up this morning with my throat raging even more than before. Having spent yesterday milling about town, checking out the volcano evacuation route and having dinner at our favourite cafe Casa Hood with South African Dee, I hit the sack at 9pm (after a bit of Beck´s autobiography - apparently he didn´t have an affair with Rebecca Loos...)

Run Duncan, run...



Got Duncan to accompany me to the pharmacy where they were quick to hand over some antibiotics which I necked with breakfast on the terrace. Then felt horrific for the rest of the morning. Sick, sick, sick. Looking forward to taking the next one tomorrow then...

This afternoon we checked out the local volcanic baths. It would have been amazing except that poor Joub had his camera nicked as soon as we´d got in there. Literally he had it one minute, and then it was gone. He went off to make a statement at the police station and Duncan and I had a quick dip in the hot, hot outside baths. It was great, although we weren´t really in the mood after Joub´s misfortune. He´s lost about 7 months worth of photos from his travels. That sucks.

I´m practically the Littlest Hobo these days. About to make a move again. 2 bus journies to Riobamba where we´ll take an early morning train to Cuenca tomorrow (you ride the train journey on the roof Indiana Jones stylee.) So until then, adios amigos.