CITY OF THE HILLS

Taranaki Daily News, 10 July 1929, Page 4

CITY OF THE HILLS

FINE OLD WORLD SETTING PICTURE OF FAMOUS QUITO. LAND OF ETERNAL SPRINGTIME. Much could be written on the beauty and charm of Quito —a city cradled in great mountains, a city of hills and churches, of secret houses on narrow streets, of flower-filled patios and old archways, of pigtailed Indians in ponchos of vivid orange art’ll red, of stately gardens with formal hedges of cypress, cut into quaint bird-shapes, blazing with colour under a sky of richest blue, a city wearing the snow-swept mountains —Cotopaxi, Antizana, Cayambi, Ilineza —like a necklace of pearls (says a writer in the Christian Science Monitor). Breakfast was taken on a sun-porch, ,with the cordillera, in the distance, sprinkled with snow in the early morning—Antizana to the right, with its five rounded peaks —the fields in the foreground a veritable Joseph’s coat of colour, and near the house tall graceful eucalyptus trees. In the sunset, this scene took on an indescribable loveliness. One can only watch with joy too deep for words the moving picture, swift in its change from primrose to gold and orange, from rose to flame, from lilac to midnight blue, then, prodigal with beauty, a great silver moon emerging from a gold-edged cloud, and a bird softly whistling a goodnight lullaby in the near-by tree. We rendered the tribute of silence. HAIRPIN BENDS AND A GARDEN. A friend took us driving one day to Cuninyaca, the hacienda of an Ecuadorian friend. It was an exciting experi-ence-down, down, down, with many hairpin bends, and a precipice too near to be comfortable, but after <piany thrills we arrived at the farm, The house was new with 24 huge rooms, two patios, and a lovely garden in which grew tangerines, oranges, lemons, citrons, limes, grapefruit, avocados, pears, roses, pansies, Canterbury bells, honeysuckle, lilies, all in happy confusion together. The result was beautiful. Here, too, was a fountain with goldfish; a pretty stream crossed by a rustic bridge, then coming to the edge of the garden was the river belo©' over huge boulders with a soothing song. The view from the gap above Guapulo could not bo surpassed. The ancient church surrounded by the tiny town, nestling midway in the hollow, the road a mere thread winding down the deep gorge, then the rich wide valley with little towns dotted here and there and Cayambi in the distance, the contour of the hills like dream cities.

Three times, warmly clad and with plenty of rugs, we drove out to see the wonder of the mountains by moonlight. The roads were deserted as we rushed through the night, ever climbing higher and higher. Oh, the glory and grandeur of those majestic sentinels in the silver beauty of the moon, dimly white, wrapped in mystery. We gazed in speechless rapture on Ilineza, Corazon, Cotopaxi, Rumiyayi, Antizana, Cayambi, Cotoc..chi, and another mountain with an unspellable name. Eight snowpeaks in the moonlight! Regretfully, shivering in the cold midnight air, we returned to Quito, which twinkled with myriad lights in the valley and then to such prosaic comforts as hot chocolate —and so to bed. UNEXPLORED BY ARTISTS. In reflecting on the beauties of Ecuador, so rich in subject for the artist, one wonders that it remains an unexplored field, except to Ecuadorian artists, who do interesting work. ’• There are still a few genuine curios to be had in Quito. Old leather desks and trunks, rich in design, with quaint silver old silver and brass and shawls. Lovely modern needlework abounds. One Sunday afternoon, an expedition was made to the “Panccilla” (the little loaf), as the very considerable hill to the left of Quito is quaintly named. It is quite round in formation and is actually much higher than it appears in such close proximity to Pichincha. It is much built upon, on the lower slopes a motor road—so called—winds around it, but ere he reached the top, the chauffeur, fearing for his car, refused to go any further. The remaining three-quarters of a mile was made on foot, climbing steadily round, but this was no hardship when on every side the landscape presented such varying pictures. VARIETY OF FLORAL JEWELS. The wild flowers, starring the grassy road, gave keen deligh J with their grace *nd beauty —such a variety of floral | jewels, each perfect in its minute detail. At the top, there was a rough brick monument, once erected by French natural scientists on what they believed was the exact equatorial line. This later was proved an incorrect calculation. A few steps lower down we saw a curious circular well-like building, sunk in the earth to a depth of about seven feet. Legend says this was an altar built by the Inca sun-worshippers. However this might be, it was interesting to note from its position that here would fall the first rays of the rising sun. One cannot close this brief sketch without a word of the people—simple folk, talking of simple things, abounding in kindly hospitality, with a manner grave and courteous. Imagination tries to paint the scene; the little group of travellers, on one of the roofs of the world, in the darkest hour which precedes the dawn, watching, their faces intent, straining to see the world, the first tentative twitter of the first heralds of the sun. The sleeping birds, and then the grandeur of the awakening as the red sun slowly pierces the mists above Cayambi, until he bursts forth in all his splendour and magnificence. Paneeilla proved to be a happy picnic ground for the working people of Quito, who dotted the slopes in family groups, while many children played merry games on the summit.