After our last class at the Academia (with accompanying mini-graduation ceremony), Summer and I headed off to Otavalo. We took a taxi to a bridge near school rather than going to the terminal, in the opposite direction. It was confusing because of the entrances to the bridge and language barriers with the taxi driver, and the bus driver barely stopped to let us on... but soon we were on our cramped, uncomfortable way.

After a gorgeous ride through the Andes, we set out to explore the lovely little town. We had dinner at an adorable place called Oraibi, on Sucre near the more well-known Mi Otavalito. To our surprise, we were the only ones in the restaurant—with roaming kittens, a beautiful courtyard, shells for ashtrays and great food, I can't imagine why.

After we ate, a band appeared at our table. At first I resented the imposition because we'd have to pay a tip whether we wanted them there or not, but they were good. They were also quite friendly; we ran into them out in the town and they tried to get us to go dancing later. But with the early-morning animal market to look forward to, I was happy for an excuse to decline.

We slept later than intended on Saturday, but still managed to get to the market before 7:30. It was clear the indigenous people from the surrounding villages had been here since the beginning. The place was packed full of men and women in felt hats quietly discussing screaming piglets and children petting lambs. One truck decorated with the ubiquitous Che stickers was full of cows losing patience. The setting was lovely, with the market surrounded by hills we could climb to get a better sense of the crowds.

Had to be a bit alert at the market. There was the expected issue of dodging animal shit at all moments. But at one point a male calf and adult bull started fighting over a cow. The animals ran, the groups of men trying to hold them were whipped around, and Summer and I had to BOOK to get out of the way.

There were no llamas here, which was disappointing. There was a small horse section, but they were evidently a luxury item as no one even looked. This market was definitely pig-heavy.

At this hour, the market was very alive with other activities. Food stands were packed. Dogs searched for scraps. Someone was selling "Designer Imposters" perfume out of the back of a truck. Another person sold $5 shoes out of his truck.

A side benefit of going to the animal market is the walk back to the center of town—it becomes quite clear that Otavalo's "market town" rep stems from so much more than the tourist-oriented plaza. On the streets men shouted auctioneer-style about household goods to a captivated crowd, traditional healers peddled their services, stand after stand sold cut-price woven goods far from the main market. Adorable children were everywhere and surrounding mountains provided lovely views.

After breakfast, Summer was ready for a nap so I hit the market on my own. It was mind-boggling. At least 3x bigger than the artisan market in Quito, without the more "urban" stands with tattoos and piercings, more traditional jewelry, weavings and yarn. Spent like crazy—lots of great jewelry, a very thick sweater to take to Cotopaxi, and a big woven duffel bag to hold it all.

Most people were charging $12, but one stand had them for $8. By the time I made the rounds to double-check, the man in charge had left a young kid running the stand. I think I totally took advantage of him. I bargained down to $7, but he couldn't find change for my $10. I told him semi-truthfully I only had $6 on me—although I could have given him another dollar in quarters. Looking unsure and not just a little sad, he said OK.

For dinner we met up with others from the Academia to go to Ali Shunga, the nicest place (read: most expensive) in Otavalo. It was full of gringos, but the food was good and it was a fun night out.

On Sunday, we woke up to beautiful blue skies. Time to visit Laguna Cuicocha! Although Lonely Planet suggested taking the bus to Cotacachi and then a taxi from there, we checked with the hotel receptionist, the ticket seller at the bus station and a random bus driver and they all said to go to Quiroga instead. Cost was 25 cents for the bus and $10 total for 2 in the taxi with a 2-hour wait.

Laguna Cuicocha is a gorgeous crater lake, surrounded by rolling green mountains. It was a crisp, breezy day, but the altitude killed me. Even though my body didn't feel tired, I couldn't catch my breath! Ran into some of the younger Academia students up there. Really nice, just so damn young. Had a nice chat about all of our future travels.

Back in town, we had lunch at a Mexican place called Tabascos. It was OK, a little expensive for the type of food, but had a great view of the market, still quite active on Sunday. It really seemed that the market in the plaza probably went on every day. Saturdays are just the days when the market spills into the side streets, with the extra influx of shoppers from gringos and the animal market stragglers.

One more gorgeous bus ride (with clouds just starting to loom), I hugged Summer goodbye and went off to Latacunga.

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