Our latest bus journey was supposed to be super smooth. We woke up early to make sure it would be a two bus adventure instead of three. We even arrived at the second bus station and jumped on our next bus with relative ease. Perhaps I jinxed us when I said “Wow, this hasn’t been bad at all!” to Andrew as we pulled out of the station. And then several hours passed, and we still weren’t where we were supposed to be. On a map, it’s approximately a three hour journey. Factor in a bus change, and a few road-side pick-ups (of passengers) and sure, an extra hour or even an hour and a half seems reasonable. But SIX AND A HALF HOURS?!? No, six and a half hours from Puerto Lopez to Canoa was not reasonable. By the time we got into Canoa Andrew sat down at the first restaurant we saw while I went in search of a baño. Somehow, I ended up in someone’s outhouse in their backyard (with their permission) while Andrew ordered fish and rice for us to eat around the corner. It was nearing dusk by the time we got to our beachfront hotel and we were too tired to do anything other than jump in the ocean to cool off and then immediately lay down before our next round of Spanish classes started in the morning.
