I’m a little ashamed to say that Mark and I succumbed to the gringo classic, the cheesy shot next the line of the equator in Ecuador.
It’s not even easy to get to; we had to battle through crushing crowds of rush hour commuters on Quito’s metro bus (people here don’t bother with notions of queuing, letting people off before barging on, or waiting for the next one if a carriage is clearly packed). After more than an hour of this we finally reached the end of the line (Quito’s equivalent of Cockfosters). From there it was another 20 minute bus.
And it’s not even the REAL equator – Charles-Marie de la Condamine, the chap who proudly proclaimed to have measured the Earth’s equator in the 1700s, was out by around 300m. The true equator is up the road, on a dusty unmarked highway. So the gaudy monument is a tribute to overconfident scientific measurement more than anything else, and the yellow line is just…a yellow line.
Still, after coughing up $3 each, we had fun snapping a few photos…
What a couple of suckers.