Equador does mean 'equator' in Spanish though.
ANYWAY... I arrived in the Equadorian Capital of Quito about 4pm in the afternoon the very same day I saw Lonesome George in the morning (turns out air travel is MUCH faster than bus travel, who knew?!) and set about the task of trying to find my hostel. I had been recommended a hostel called the Secret Garden to stay in in Quito, which turned out to be a little gem of a place with a gorgeous roofto
p balcony with impressive views over the city (see left for Quito at night) and FREE coffee (best I'd had in a long time). I was marginally less impressed about being back in the land of cold showers, and about the fact that Quito was in the grips of a rainy season that saw the skies open at 3pm sharp each afternoon. The temperature had also taken a slight dive by this point, 17oC feeling a tad chilly after the gorgeous Galaps- I was especially suprised by this as the equator crosses Equador only a few miles from the city... but apparently proximity to the sun doesnt guarantee heat waves all year! Depite all this I was somewhat enamoured with the Equadorian Capital; it was clean, the public transport was sophisticated and functional (not that I dont miss jumping in and out of the insane collectivos in Bolivia still) and the architecture was impressive to say the least.I spent my first evening exploring the locale: The city is divided into three sections; Old Town, New Town and La Mariscal (known on the trail as Gringolandia... as it is sin tourist attractions but con many
bars and therefore many westerners.) Not especially having and desire to stay in La Mariscal, and being far more enamoured with the idea of staying in an original UNESCO World Heritage site (the largest historic city centre in Latin America) I was in Old Town, and it didn't disappoint. The photo on the left shows the beautiful cathedral that was only a few streets fom where I was staying. My second day in the city I was determined to get out to La Mitad del Mundo (literally translated as the centre of the earth) where the equator crosses Equador. Here the ever friendly and helpful Equadorians hve built a museum about the unusual phenomenon that happen at the equator, the history of the site and have painted a giant line across the floor, over which you can take a not-at-all-touristy picture of yourself (see below). 
I had gone to visit the museum with a lad I'd met in the hostel called Aaron who was mixed race Ozzy and Chinese, which made him look just South American enough to be mistaken for my guide all day long. A fairly entertaining set of cicumstances as he spoke no Spanish so I was having to reply to all the stall owners who were trying to persuade him to take the stupid English woman into their hammock shop. We actually had a fantastic time in the centre of the Earth, very much enjoying watching water run directly down the plughole (instead of to the left or right as it does anywhere else in the entire world), and had lots of fun trying to balance an egg on a nail (possible everywhere but much easier on the Equator apparently!). That night I enjoyed the views from the hostel's rooftop bar and didn't enjoy the sunburn I had picked up during the day, as apparently proximity to the sun might not guarantee heat, but does always warrant spf30. ApparentlyI really didn't learn anything in La Paz.My final day in Equador was destined to be the very next day, as Sunday saw the governement conducting a national census that would mean EVERYONE had to stay indoors all day, and I couldn't help but feel that would be a waste of the little time I had left. So I was up bright and early in order to get the bus to Otavalo where apparently the Saturday market 'simply couldn't be missed' (Lonely Planet book of lies 2008), and then on to the Columbian frontera...
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