don’t you know.
And when in Rome…or Quito in this case…one does…:wink:
Yes all the facts about England’s next World Cup opponents are being dragged out by the media, most of whom I doubt had ever heard of the country before they qualified for the last World Cup.
So the usual suspects are brought up – Quito is nearly two miles above sea level, well 9,300 feet is about 1.75 miles, and we are told this is why they win all their home games and not many away games.
It’s the home of the Panama hat, surely a great marketing opportunity missed there.
The biggy is normally first on the list that they eat or cuy or as those in TV/paper/radio land call those furry little rodents – guinea pigs.
And the only people they know that have any connection to Ecuador are Christina Aguilera and ex-Wimbledon and Northern Ireland striker current Northern Ireland manager, London born Lawrie Sanchez. Who hasn’t actually set foot in the country his father left at the age of 5.
So I may not have scored the winner in a cup final, or masterminded an England defeat but I have been in the country of Sanchez’s forefathers, though it is quite a while since I celebrated my 11 birthday in the hot & humid climes of Santiago de Guayaquil and the trips to Quito.
Much will have changed over the years, the Mital del Mundo certainly wasn’t built up that much, the Hacienda Cusin wasn’t quite so business like, bet the whole roast chickens that Aussie Joe cooked aren’t so good either. The Pan-Am highway is now finished and doesn’t just end in the middle of nowhere.
But I’m sure the sight of Cotopaxi is still damn impressive, I’m sure I could still sleep through one of their earthquakes and that I’d still get a stinking headache, bleeding nose and nausea from the altitude sickness brought on by driving higher up into the Andes, I’m sure the bus drivers that speed down the winding roads round the mountains are still as crazy, I’m sure I’ll never get a more comfortable footwear than those hand made cowboy boots from Cotacachi and I’m positive I’ll never go anywhere near a horse since hanging onto a bolting nag heading straight up a rather steep mountain.