The Road to Riobamba

We arrived at the bus station at ten thirty-nine this morning. Good timing, since the bus we wanted to be on was scheduled to be leaving for Riobamba at eleven exactly. We bought our tickets, and asked the guy at the counter if the bus had arrived yet. "Just wait," he said. "No te preocupas. (Don´t worry.)"
So, okay, we sat down on a bench for a while, but then it was getting awfully close to eleven, and I began to wonder if our friend had forgotten to come find us and tell us which bus to get on. So I asked again.
"Just wait," he said again. "I´ll let you know."
Finally, a few minutes after eleven, our friend burst out from behind his desk and rounded up all the gringos in the station. "Riobamba!" he shouted. "Other side of the street!"
So, we all obediently picked up our backpacks and walked out of the building, across the parking lot, and onto the sidewalk. At that point the group momentum slowed, and we glanced around to see if anyone else was actually going to cross the street. After all, wasn´t the bus station behind us?
In a few moments, noticing what had happened, our friend returned to lead his straggling pack of backpack-wielding travellers to the OTHER sidewalk, the one on the OTHER side of the street. And then he left. Not having anything else in particular to do, we stood there, on the sidewalk, with a dozen other gringos, resisting the cries of the children selling sugarcane and wondering whether we might next be told to wait for the bus to Riobamba a few blocks up...or on the bridge...or at the top of the hill?
But what do you know? A few minutes later, less than half an hour late, the bus to Riobamba pulled up right in front of us. Smiling in relief, we piled our packs under the bus and climbed on. Only to find that the bus was full.

And this is why I am glad to be travelling with Will. Not only did he not mind the thought of standing up for a two and a half hour bus ride along a twisty, bumpy, occasionally unpaved road down the mountain, he decided to take the opportunity to get some reading done.

And eventually, we made it to Riobamba, where the lines are long and the streets are dusty, but the sheets are satin and the markets loud. Hasta mañana...