Like every morning when I wake up, my first thought is where the coffee is coming from. A question answered easily at home, but always a bit of a mystery when traveling. Hostal Alcala's coffee turns out to be thick, strong and reassuring.

Fortified, Scott and I wander upstairs and look out over the city and watch a hummingbird feed on the array of flowers spread out on the deck. The rest of the breakfast is excellent as well: pancakes, melon juice, watermelon slices, toast and scrambled eggs.

Stuffed, we pilled into a full size van for the ride to Quito's Old Town. Touristy sightseeing activities ensued, but I didn't have the historical background to feel connected to what I was seeing. The climb to the Basilica's tower was an activity we could all relate to, and the view was certainly worth the effort.

We walked further downtown and passed several public squares and churches. Armed riot police reminded us where we were, as did a young girl pissing on the curb two doors down from a Sponge Bob Square Pants inflatable. Three brothers offering shoe shines wouldn't be defeated by my running shoes, instead they offered to let me photograph them, for only a dollar a person.

The van then took us up to the victory monument, on a hill overlooking Old Town Quito.

Back at Alcala we reviewed all our climbing gear to make sure we had brought everything we would need. Bob mostly emphasized sunglasses and hats to block the intense sun we would experience on the glaciers.

Bob had a recommendation for a traditional Ecuadorian restaurant. We walked in and immediately felt underdressed in t-shirts and climbing fleece jackets. Most people were wearing ties. At least the food was excellent and when we tried to ask what was in the hot sauce, they brought out little plates of all the ingredients. The wickedly long red pepper ended up on my plate, as no one else would eat more than a little bit.