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mud and mist

Once I leave Angamarca it’s not long before clouds descend again. The road is a muddy quagmire and it’s time to pay for yesterday’s descent.

The road that climbs out of the valley is muddy and it's time to pay for the hours spent dropping down through the clouds yesterday.

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Today as dusk draws in I find shelter in Mindina's almost completed new community centre and hostel. This is another co-operative project, this time featuring women's handicrafts, it seems.

I am left to my own devices in the deserted community centre but Dona Rosa checks on my welfare in the morning and waves me off on my way.

Still all uphill but the clouds lift enough to provide a view which serves to distract.

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Simiatug, another mountain village.

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More carved wooden doors grace Simiatug's church...

...while the threshold of this shop provides a far more visceral display.

My nice new wheels are getting all muddy. More rain, mist, mud.

My lunch time cogitations have led me in the direction of Salinas, with the lure of co-operatively produced chocolate, but nightfall sees me in a cold and cheerless roadside camp. It is not until morning that I get my first glimpse of Chimborazo. That, the very fact I can see more than 20 metres, and the proximity of chocolate all serve to lift my spirits.

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