28 January 2026

Jessica and I have been in Cuenca since New Year’s Eve. It has been a lovely spot for the month. Cuenca is high in the Andes (a little over 2,500 metres), about 8 hours south of the capital, Quito, and 5 hours up the hill from the port city of Guayaquil. From there, nearly a quarter of a million people pass through on their way to visit the Galápagos, but we’ve been told and read that it’s too dangerous a city to stay at the moment. I hear that a lot about the cities close to the cities I visit. In many parts of the world, people are scared of the next place along. I got used to ignoring them when I was a backpacker, when moving through the places in between was the whole point.

Now I’m more reticent. In part, I have shit to do. In part it’s because I don’t have to worry only about my own safety, what I’m carrying, and what shoes I’m wearing.

But all seems quite tranquil in Cuenca.

I’ve worked from home (an apartment in barrio San Sebastián) all month. Usually I spend office hours in a coworking space and enjoy the life separation they provide and the routine of taking a walk a couple of times a day (more if I need a nap). But I have barely been paid since finishing working at Hillbreak in September, and I’ve felt very productive working from the dining table the past few weeks, so the dollars not spent can a burn a hole elsewhere.

I’ve been a couple of times to a Shambhala group’s meditation session while Jessica’s was at church. It turns out that meditation is no easier after 25-odd years of spiritual abstinence. So far, it’s been my main window into the gringo expat/retiree community that I’d expected to find more visible. A lovely bunch, as you’d expect.

Oh, and I haven’t had a drink since December. What a bollocks. Had I not felt content in this peaceful little city, it would have been a challenge. I wouldn’t say I’d felt entirely normal but I’ve felt less subnormal-until-after-the-first drink which is probably a positive sign, and mission accomplished. Cheers (roll on the weekend).