After Quito the four of us made quite a long and difficult trek down south west to stay in a teeny tiny village called Chugchilan at a rather lovely and rather hippy establishment called the Black Sheep Inn. The Inn is 1 k out of this town of 100 indigenous people and is located on what the Lonely Planet described as a ´truly terrible road'. Road was a kind description for what was essentially a washed away dirt track that had sheer drops of 100's of metres on one side and landslide looking hills on the other. When we boarded our tiny bus our packs were lugged up onto the roof sharing space with a clutch of outraged looking chickens who were also tied to the roof and coming along for the ride.
Dialogue between Kate, Ed and Jonathon.
K: oh poor chickens tied to the roof, they look so outraged sitting up there.
E: yeah I wouldnt want to be a chicken in South America, mind you it would be bad being a chicken in Australia, living in a cage til you are eaten
J: Yes, at least these ones get to travel and see a bit of the country first.