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But he snorted and pointed to the fence.
I could feel my cheeks heating up. Of course you used the fence to get on top of the donkey. He acted as if it should be extremely obvious, but I’d never done that.
I brought my donkey over to the fence and clambered on top of it, hoping that I wasn’t hurting it.
When I was in the saddle, I yelped as my donkey began to amble towards the feeding trough.
The donkey leaned down and began to eat, making me slide forward. I held on desperately to both the reins and the donkey’s neck.
The boy was snickering as he gently pulled the donkey up and away from the food.
The donkey snorted at him, but he did as he was told.
He brought me towards a group of people who were obviously tourists. They had cameras in their hands and were pointing at the different landscape that you’d find up here in the páramo.
I tried to focus on speaking quietly to my donkey, trying to make friends, but all my donkey did was flick his ears at me.
I didn’t have to sit there for very long, though. Our guide was soon leading us out on a short ride around the páramo.
I was happy enough riding around on top of the donkey, and it was a little easier to breathe now, as my body got used to being at this altitude.
As I felt the stocky little donkey slowly and steadily walking along with the group, my heart soared. I just loved being up here in the clouds, far away from the city. I was cold, yeah, but it was great.
I felt like my worries in the United States were a bad dream. My reality was a simple life here in the Andes, smelling like a llama and riding a donkey on a mountain.
When I was done, I’d go back down the mountain and just chill in my room after I got the smell of llama off of me.
I smiled when I thought of what my mother would say when she saw me like this. It was a good thing that I didn’t bring a camera like the tourists had, because she’d faint.
The ride was over too soon
. I saw that a bunch of the tourists were heading towards a building that smelled like food.
But I’d read the reviews on TripAdvisor, and I knew that I didn’t want to eat anything up here.
So I went walking towards the main building to get a cable car down.
But as I went downward, I noticed that there was a little cabin with steam or smoke coming out of its chimney.
Cabin
Naelle
I felt shy going towards the cabin, but the smell that was coming out of it was freshly roasted Ecuadorian coffee, which I could definitely use since it was so cold here. I figured that I could pay them for a cup.
I knocked on the door. Nobody answered.
I thought about walking away and just taking the cable car down, but I was really cold.
I’d never do this in the United States, but I opened the door and stuck my head in to say, “Is there anybody in here?”
Silence.
I knew that I should’ve backed out then, but the coffeemaker was right next to the door, and there was a stack of disposable coffee cups next to it. Surely they wouldn’t be too angry if I took some.
I opened my purse and took out a $5 bill. If it was enough to pay for Starbucks in America, then it was enough to pay for coffee here.
I drank the hot coffee and closed my eyes while I drank nearly all of it. It was liquid bliss, the warmth spreading throughout my body.
