I took the border crossing with two English guys, a German girl, and another American named Ethan. We had heard rumors of how bad this crossing was and people getting robbed, scammed, and kidnapped. Truth or not it was going to be annoying crossing at 2 am.
Immediately we had already been scammed on our tickets. We had payed for the nice seats in the first floor of the bus that reclined. Entering the bus we found our seats were given to locals and we were sent upstairs. Yes it is a luxury at I don't need but I don't like getting scammed to pay for others.
As usual the guy came around and videod all of our faces for security reasons. Then we were off through the night. It was to be a direct bus. Not! Stop after stop we picked up randoms and who knows what.
The border was a very exciting surprise. We stood barefoot as massive roaches scuttled on the floor. The line took forever. But then a band started up. Everyone in line and outside began to dance. After the stamps instead of getting back on the bus everyone made a circle and continue used to sing. All of the dogs were about God and the Pope. There was so much spirit and happiness. It was a touching moment and I still get goose pimples thinking about it. There was so much passion in every word.
Back on the bus and a few hours later we were in Guayquil and I was alone once again. Missing my friends but happy my bags were not stolen I entered the bus terminal. It's massive. No seriously it's twice the size of Pittsburgh airport. I've never seen anything like it. It was only 430 in the morning and still dark outside. Again I had heard horror stories of taxis in Ecuador. Robbery was super common.
Walking into the night I grabbed the nicest looking taxi and asked for the airport in my broken Spanish. I had mapped out the airport ahead of time so I would know which way the taxi should go.
He was supposed to turn left and he turned right instead! I start to tremble a bit. Ok it's fine I'm sure there are multiple ways.
The taxi begins to talk to me. He keeps saying papa. What the heck? Is this sicko wanting me to call him daddy. Ahhhhhh! A five minute ride to the airport is now about 15 minutes through empty roads.
Then we hit the policed area. I mean police everywhere. Good I'm not going to die! The taxi asks me about daddy a few more times and points to his watch. What does he want? At least I have 7 hours before my flight.
We pull over to the group of cops and they chatter in Spanish. He continually points back to me. I'm usually confident but at 5 am I'm not a bit nervous and wish I spoke Spanish. The cops part and we drive through. Am I being kidnapped?
We pull over and just sit for awhile. I notice the airport is to my left. Holy cow I'm next to the airport!!! I could make a run for it. Then I notice the crowds starting to gather as the sun comes up. Well I'm not going to die. France dressed women with massive cameras appear and it all makes sense!
The Pope is coming to Guayaquil!!! Papa is pope. Laughing hysterically the taxi looks at me. I think he notices the relaxed looked on my face as I figure out what is going on. We leave our stuff locked in the car and join the crowds. He looks happy that he has me because I'm sure it's the only Wayne got past the cops.
A few hours later and the crowd erupts in cheers as the popes planes lands in the airstrip. Off in the distance I see the plane hatch open and he Pope emerges. The crowd loses it. People are crying tears of joy, newscasters are trying to get the first report, and people are prayer. And with that my scary morning went from thinking I was kidnapped to seeing the Pope! Now off to the Galapagos!
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