Ecuador had stolen my daughter, now Cuenca was grabbing me. From that first glimpse as our aircraft circled the city I knew I had fallen under its spell.
Day after day we roamed this beautiful city on foot, occasionally hopping on a bus, riding it to the end of its journey somewhere high above the city. But most often our daily meandering led us first to Parque Calderon, named after a revered freedom fighter, a green patch in the middle of the city’s business and religious centre where photographers and their fake horses tout for business under the shadow of the great domed Cathedral.
In comparison to Europe and indeed to any other part of the world there are few tourists roaming the streets of Cuenca. I have no doubt this will change very quickly as visitors like myself extol its many virtues.
But for this moment we are enjoying the novelty of our presence. Strolling the tree lined pathways of Parque Calderon , just two foreigners in the midst of a Cañar community.
NEXT Cuenca Part 2 - Between-Midnight-and-Dawn.