The city of Cuenca lies some 8800 feet above sea level and some 3000 feet or so below the highest point of the highway, with a range of temperatures, from the 80s of Guayaquíl to the 50s near the top, to the 70s in Cuenca.
The three hour trip from Guayaquíl, over the mountains, through the national park, was exhilarating. At times, we were higher than the clouds in a surreal blend of fog and light. For a while, we were forced to stop as road crews removed mud deposits that covered the highway, a gift from the rain gods. The driver made up the time, demonstrating his secret longing to drive in Formula 1 racing.
My objectives for visiting Cuenca included a desire to learn Spanish by immersion and to see if the reports of Cuenca as a wonderful city to retire in held merit. My investigations began immediately upon arrival.
Walking the city is a wonderful way to find answers to my questions. One discovers right away the 'harmony' of the streets; the pace of foot traffic tells me about the way people approach life. In New York City, the pace is frenetic. Likewise, Guayaquíl. Not so here. People walk purposefully, but not as intensely. Drivers, on the other hand, seem to revel in the challenges of negotiating narrow streets at the highest speeds possible, ever wary of taxis stopping for fares or buses pulling away from the curbs, spewing diesel fumes in their wakes. Most streets are one way, a blessing for pedestrians who need to cross the streets.
