Followers

Wednesday 2 November 2011

Day 266: Market Forces (21/10/2011)

About an hour's drive outside Quito, there is a market in a small town called Otavalo.

Each Saturday, Ecuadorians gather from all over the country to make it the biggest market in South America.

So we went on a Tuesday.

The stalls stretch across the main square and down the side streets. You can buy anything there...as long as it is woven, knitted or stitched in some way.

Gabriel was our guide and very well he was doing for himself. He picked us up from the Hostel Quito Cultural in a very shiny jeepy-thingy. He must have been doing quite well as he didn't seem to mind too much about the cost of petrol.

Why, I hear you ask - because he drove for an hour and only got out of third gear once - in order to reverse into a parking spot in the town square in Otavalo.

But petrol is cheap here. A full tank cost him $30.00 when in the UK it is closer to $100.00. But even Gabriel had something to say on the subject of extortionate fuel prices. After all, he could drive over the border into Venezuela and fill up for....free!

Well, not actually for free but certainly for the bank breaking sum $3.00. Apparently they have so much oil that all they have to do is whisper something about not having WMD and the Americans invade and extract it all for free - strictly in the name of democracy.

The Otavalo market was extremly colourful but on a Tuesday it wasn't exactly lively. Stall holders outnumbered tourists by a ratio of ten to one and business was obviously quiet.

I've been hassled by people selling things, from Cairo to Cordoba, but the good people of Otavalo have a relentless sales pitch - they never stop smiling and they never give up.

We left with Ponchos and Panamas, stuffed Guinea Pigs and colourful rugs.

In the end they threw in the donkey to carry it all home. All the while Gabriel didn't put a foot wrong apart from the incident with our four-legged friend.

On reflection, tying the hapless creature to his back bumper, while we stopped for a quick coffee before the return trip to the capital, was not his worst mistake.

Forgetting to untie it until we reached the outskirts of the capital might have been.

No comments:

Post a Comment