... Daf ÜR I must now make the Cotopaxi tour alone - partly because the French do not escape from their union, partly because the organizers make sure that all drivers are in use.
Let 's to 3200 meters from the hotel. At the Pan-American Highway with a local woman rises Erchen daughters to. business etched ten land people follow in a parking lot they dr ü bridges together on R ückbank and Ladefl Äch . the entrance of the Cotopaxi National Park, flanked the first stand-Wed t Inkam Uetz. F UR $ 10 entry's going to need Schotterstra uphill, past Kieferw äldern, ferns and lava fields. At 3600m the passengers of one man detached east, the Bergf Uehr Tomas, as it turns out. At a lichen and BL ü ü th bers ähten Canyon 3800m following a peaceful glacial lake. Gradually takes something similar but then the vegetation from , and Cotopaxi is a couple of times his uniform ä regularly need further cone behind the clouds.
In 4500 we reached the parking lot, even create dickbereifte buses it up here. The aim of these is the rise of Refugio Jose F. Ribas, the stone base camp f ÜR the summit (5897m) . At the beginning I let Robert and Tomas are. Robert is very soon to Uecker, but Tomas in the last third is still faster than me, because not everything in this H Öhe respiratory my walking pace is behind. The interim hail snow l east up, and Cotopaxi is becoming more tangible. It is fresh, but with protected f etched ü five degrees C. cold, not really. 4800m, my pers önlicher H öhenrekord (3600m, Virgin saddle) is here in Snow powdered .
it is in Refugio commemorative T-shirts and beautiful Önen iced tea. The relaxed Tomas brings me to a projection view, where a small wolf ü over red lava walk. He ren ährt from rabbits, explained me Aert Tomas.
After that's through more landscapes, one associates with S üdamerika name: a beautiful oenes of a river shared valley in front of a four-thousand, saftgr üne H sash, wild horses, hopping rabbits, Wolf which has not yet met, and bl ütenbestickte straw grass fields. Then, close and romantic gorge, at the end we are up to 30 m a huge vulture Horst n ähern. Two people we see fly straight.
The Sp ätm ittagsmenu on the R ückfahrt is apart weight ürzte banana soup, a pork steak I had ordered chicken, and coca tea, the taste in his understated austerity slightly reminiscent of Mate.
Knapp me about the Cotopaxi. 
And among them: me. 
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