When 
entering the ruta del sol of Ecuador's Pacific coast, first nothing indicates that mass tourism already has a strong grip on the region. Driving through it on a Sunday morning in low season felt more like going to church in one of the world's remote corners. One fisher village sits next to each other and was showing its peaceful life in bright sunshine just interrupted by some of the weekend villas of rich Guyaquilians. Unmistakenly the tropics started, pineapples, coconuts and bananas were dominating the street stands and salsa music the buses loudspeakers, sea glimps through the family huts. Even the blown up replique of some precolombian venus on the central square of Puerto Lopez, adverting a rich arqueological heritage, despite displaying gigantic breasts could not attract enough tourists to ruin the village's character.
entering the ruta del sol of Ecuador's Pacific coast, first nothing indicates that mass tourism already has a strong grip on the region. Driving through it on a Sunday morning in low season felt more like going to church in one of the world's remote corners. One fisher village sits next to each other and was showing its peaceful life in bright sunshine just interrupted by some of the weekend villas of rich Guyaquilians. Unmistakenly the tropics started, pineapples, coconuts and bananas were dominating the street stands and salsa music the buses loudspeakers, sea glimps through the family huts. Even the blown up replique of some precolombian venus on the central square of Puerto Lopez, adverting a rich arqueological heritage, despite displaying gigantic breasts could not attract enough tourists to ruin the village's character.
Two corners further, picture changes and surfer's paradies shows up. Montañita is not a village where surfers go to, it seemed to be a village build up by them. Cohorts of highglighted one meter eighty gringos with shorts 5 centimeters under their pelvic bones walk between international surf brand shops in bamboo arquitecture choosing for fruit muesli as breakfast, lokals infected by surf fever speaking a better English then the Irish visitors, Canadian dropouts selling empanadas on the beach and making even the always present Argentinian artisans looking somehow ridiculous. Jasper and me stood here for two days, still not surfing after observing some beginners with their desperate tries to get on the board for, but enjoying the scenery.
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