After four days in Quito, in an unprecedented bout of foresight, I actually made reservations for a hostel at my next destination. Following an awkward phone call to the Spanish speaking hostelier I even got to bed at a reasonable hour and set an alarm to catch the early bus.
I was on my way to the reportedly beautiful town of Baños. I bought the ticket and was informed that my bus was leaving from gate 21 at 9:15. I found gate 21 and the bus parked there with the name Baños in two foot letters on the side.
At 9:10 the conductor began to shout "Baños, Baños, Baños" and I boarded the bus, which, I was impressed to note, actually left at 9:15. Just not, of course, to Baños.
Three hours into the three and a half hour ride to Baños the conductor came to collect my ticket and informed me that I was, in fact, on the "Baños" Bus Lines five and a half hour bus ride to Tena. A town about four hours away from Baños.
Never one to contend with the will of the fates while traveling I paid for my ticket to Tena, got off the bus and took advantage of the towns close proximity to the rainforest to embark the following morning on a jungle trek through the Amazon. Why not?
I spent the last two days exploring the sites of the city, highlighted by the majestic Basilica of Old Town, a behemoth vestige of Spanish colonialism. If you had told me yesterday morning that I was going to spend two hours in church I would have laughed, but you don't have to be Catholic to have a religious experience atop the towering spires, and the precarious climb to get there is prayer inspiring. 
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