MONTANITA, ECUADOR

Greeted by the gregariously warm driver, Andres, we made our way to Montanita in the night. Driving along the coastline most of the way, we could make out boats propped in the sand. Andres speaks no English. But he speaks his Spanish so loud that, if you have a Spanish ancestor, I’m positive they will hear, understand and translate for you. Kidding aside, he was delightful and we conversed surprisingly well thanks to his patience, very clear Spanish, and….. some pointing.

Once in Montanita, we found our cabanas adorably, albeit somewhat uncomfortably, rustic and large. As it turns out, most houses in town are open air. Temperature wise this works out nicely. The noise is another matter. I’ve learned Ecuador is famous for its’ birds. And I found them to be unusual, fascinating, beautiful and undoubtedly the loudest birds I’ve ever heard in my life. We are all acquainted with the rooster and the turkey, of which abound in Montanita, as do their repetitious, hourly morning salutes. But I have yet to lay eyes on the culprits that inhabited the trees surrounding our cabana and sounded like a flock of geese being run over by a trailer truck intermittently throughout all hours of the night and day. And then there are the “night owls.” But, really, who needs the night to start slammin’ the reggaetone tunes down, anyway? …Discoteque at 10am, anyone?

At first impression, the town seemed like a surreal painting, a brown, dreary third worldian place with trash, sewage, and drainage problems and houses made of little more than sticks, juxtaposed with touristy eateries, shops and bars. I was surprised to find these things cohabitating in reality at such extremes and in such close proximity (the town is about 4 blocks all together). It was eery and dreary. It was charming. Was it wrong to think it was charming? And so my mind went on as I looked on in a state close to bewilderment that first day, watching and waiting to understand this foreign little place. The people all seemed happy and carefree, always willing to share a smile. Tourists and locals alike shared in the daily fiestas. And I found the environment to be casual, youthful, and lighthearted. There seems to be no “delincuencia” as they say here, except for the occasional rowdy drunk. I did, indeed, feel very safe once I grew accustomed to the place. And though I never grew fond of those mucky streets, there is now a place in my heart for “cocktail alley” (where the fruity cocktails are made fresh by “Cocktail Poetica” or “Bebida Maestra” who salsa and serve at the same time and in style…& for $2 no less), surfing, salsa and “La Punta” (the rocky end of town that juts into the sea….home to tide pools teaming with sea urchins, anemones, fish, etc… and dramatic rock scapes where the water would splash foamy white between crevices)…..And that list is in no particular order if you’re wondering.

I find Montanita to be a great place mostly because of the people and the seemingly collective carefree attitude about life. You simply cannot fiesta too much here and loud music is always welcome. I suppose the babies simply get used to the noise because there are babies everywhere. If you’re an introspective sophisticate, this is probably not the place for you. But it’s a good dose of medicine for anyone for a couple of weeks, regardless of your leanings.

Did I mention I learned to Salsa?

--------------K