The TeleferiQo and the Spanish Teacher

At an altitude of over 9,000 feet, Quito, Ecuador, is the highest national capital in the world, but for the adventurous there is an aerial lift near the city that sweeps you to 13,000 feet in about ten minutes.

Teleferico - BaseOn Monday morning, February 22, we took an inexpensive ($3.00) taxi ride from our barrio in the Centro Historico to the base of the “TeleferiQo” (an amalgam of “Teleferico” and “Quito”).  It was about a 20 minute ride.  There was almost no one there.  It was a little overcast, and it was a Monday, and for the most part the tourists were staying away.


Teleferico - 2 of 3We bought our tickets, and after only a very brief wait, we were seated in a gondola with another couple (a friendly American guy and his Ecuadoran girlfriend).  In a brief moment, we were flying swiftly up the mountain.  The view was spectacular.

Teleferigo - 3 of 3

2016-02-22 13.25.32At the top of the mountain, we ate a small lunch and walked around a bit, admiring the view of the city below and the more distant valleys and summits.  We soon noticed the effects of the altitude, especially Brian.  It is hard to catch your breath at that elevation. So we stepped into the boarding area and waited for the next gondola for the ride back down.

Brian at Top of Mountain Near Quito


At first it seemed as if we might have the descending gondola to ourselves.  An Ecuadoran family was waiting behind us but there were five of them, too many for our car.  And then, just as the gondola rounded the corner of the loading area, three new passengers climbed aboard.

2016-02-22 14.15.13.jpg
Here is a photo of our gondola mates.  Which of the three, gentle reader, do you suppose attracted our interest and attention the most?  If you guessed the cute young guy in the middle, you are correct.  If not, then you don’t appreciate how our minds work, Brian’s and mine.

We struck up a conversation and learned that the friendly guy on the right was visiting from Chile.  The young woman lives there in Quito, and was able to point out her neighborhood below as the tram descended.  Our boy in the middle, as we learned, is from Brazil.  He is a Portuguese speaker, and explained that the young woman was his Spanish teacher here in Quito.  It was interesting to hear him speaking in Spanish to the two native Spanish speakers on either side of him.  He spoke with a Portuguese accent.

The nice man from Chile was a stranger to the other two; they had just met at the gondola.  We chatted amiably all the way down.  The three of them joked about their various rivalries, emanating I think perhaps from soccer, with Argentinians.  Little did we know that the nations of South America seem united in a sort of friendly contempt for Argentina and her people. But when I mentioned that Pope Francis is an Argentinian, they conceded there were exceptions.

When we asked, half jokingly, whether the young woman might be available to teach us Spanish as well, the young man embraced her, with something resembling a hurt look on his face, and replied that she was exclusively his.  Thus, it became clear they were not just teacher and pupil, but lovers.

She was the older of the two.  He was only about 20, I would guess.  “She is teaching him the ways of love,” I said to Brian later, after we reached the bottom.

Away they went together, arm in arm, as we disembarked, to continue their tutorial in language and in love.


  1. Hi Frank and Brian, the guy in the middle would have attracted my interest the most as well! Love reading about your adventures.


  2. I just spent my Sunday morning lounging in bed, drinking coffee, eating my homemade biscotti and reading your blog in its entirety. Thank you for allowing us to journey with you and this great adventure. Time to vacuum, put laundry away, prune roses and tend the chickens!!
    Btw, Rowan broke his arm again!! Left arm this time, right at the start of baseball season! Jason and Rowan said “Hi!”


  3. I loved this entry.
    I have traveled so little myself, but just a few days ago I planned a trip to Charlotte, NC, to see wonderful friends from my other life, and on the way back, I am stopping in Denver, CO, to see the wringer washer museum in Easton, CO, about an hour’s drive from Denver.


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