#i'm halfway through Under The Volcano and it's SO GOOD

[openphrase123]

i just finished this fic! it's good!

and because it's all done i want to like... be a LITTLE self indulgent and talk under the cut about some miscellaneous things that i ran into while writing it. don't click the readmore if you're interested in the fic and haven't read it yet i'm about to spoil the Whole thing.

also there is an epilogue to this fic now - go read that before this post if you're getting to this before the update!!

so!! i haven't written fanfiction in like FIVE YEARS. it's been a while! part of that is because i was doing original stuff and part of it was i was in a creative slump. so isat kind of dug me out of that and i owe it my thanks. i've been able to do a crazy amount of original work since starting this fic, it's brought back my creative discipline. in like seven years when my video game comes out you can thank isat for that probably

i originally set out thinking this was the only fic for isat i was going to write. and then as i was writing this i fell deeper into it. i kind of got out of isat a little disappointed in how it ended?? but now that i'm here i'm like ah it's fine. just cause i would have done something different in dev's position doesn't mean it's bad. it does mean i can write a bunch of fanfiction exploring things i wish had been tackled more in the game though LOL

i said this in one of the chapter authors notes but i DID start out curtain call hating loop with every fiber of my being. (as in i liked them as a character UNTIL the act 6 reveal which i thought was lame) and then i played through the game a second time knowing the loop twist and went "oh nvm this makes sense" so a lot of the loop stuff in this fic was actually written twice. originally i was just gonna have them soulmerge with siffrin and not be present at all but then i was like. no. i do want to keep this lighthearted and that's too depressing of an end for loop. i do have a loop postcanon doc so i'll go repay them for their slapdashed involvement in curtain call someday

i'm in a weird position with curtain call in that i wrote the themes and major conflicts Directly After playing through isat the first time. before i could really marinate and analyze the characters fully. so there are a lot of scenes and points where i think i wouldn't characterize certain people like that if i were to rewrite this from scratch? however i don't disagree with what i've written either - it's just an interpretation that i don't necessarily think is my favorite anymore.

neither is any of the worldbuilding i did for any of this - it works for curtain call and i think it was nice but i don't necessarily think it's my current interpretation of what the culture and people were like? i like the wishes being permanent thing, i like the language stuff, but i'd probably go in a different direction if i went through this again

i do actually still think "the forgotten island was destroyed by a volcano" is my solid headcanon explanation of what happened to it. in my heart. i think like - with siffrin as a character especially it's very important that he's always missing something, that it's not idyllically happy for them at the end of everything. so even if he can remember more from their own past, it's - you know - there's no way to go back. only forward.

in the vein of this i probably could have killed siffrin/loop's entire childhood family but i did not. mostly because i did think it was fun for him to have to explain all of those cultural taboos they broke to survive. which, of course, was not a big deal - any good parent would rather their kid be alive than lawful - but what is isat other than a vehicle to make siffrin work through every moral compulsion and spiral they experience

i had a thought halfway through writing the fic that i was stepping on the very good and beautiful odile friendquest by making the island real and having a lot of siffrin's personality dictate how it went. but i ultimately decided on keeping siffrin very close to their country, more than odile is to vaugarde, because siffrin actually DID live on the island when he was a kid and that i think is a Different type of "longing for your country" trauma than odile's. i think they can still drink over the feelings together though

writing bonnie is very fun but very emotional for me. the bonnie&siffrin age gap (preteen to late-20s) is the exact age gap between me and my niece so every time i need to sit down and write something for them i think about her and how much she's a little baby growing up. this has nothing to do with bonnie it just makes writing bonnie really hard for me

if the entire history of my ao3 account was not an indicator, i'm a very big fan of writing romance, but i did not want it to take over curtain call at all. i also could have left out sloopis entirely and almost did, but thought "you know. with the way loop functions in this fic. i should at least let that be open ended" cause sharing a body with a version of you who is dating some other guy is gonna get messy no matter what. it's just not necessarily something i had time to or the urge to explore here. think of it as a fun spiritual nod to the fact that isafrin is technically open ended in isat (<- cop out answer)

i think i'm pretty vocal in how much i am absolutely insane for the flashback "happiest i can remember being" conversation. who let them do that. i think a lot of how i worked with mirabelle and siffrin's relationship in this fic kind of revolved around that. important to me that it ends with mira checking in on him and getting the answer she was looking for all along <3

overall i'm happy with curtain call. glad i am done with it though. there's so much that's running in with it at once. i'll probably wait a month and reread the whole thing to myself front to back before i start having fond memories of this. i mean it's always gonna be the fic my nephew was born during and i'll always remember having a panic attack in the airport right after posting chapter 7 but it's gonna be weird letting this one sail off into the ocean of the internet. however feel free to ask anything about the fic, i wrote this in a lil hurry on a bad day and probably didn't cover everything

goodbye, curtain call!! i love you!!!!! i'll miss you!!!!

[looks both ways, waiting for most people to leave]

also. if you've read this far. i hope it's not too gauche of me to link my personal project. if you've read over 100k words of this you might enjoy the game i'm developing? i've been working on it for almost a year but i just started the devlog last month. it's still in early baby stages as far as a full video game goes but if you liked this you'll like the game when it comes out (similar nickname culture, timeloop trauma, petty interpersonal drama, very stupid jokes, natural disaster angst)

also there isn't a lot on the devblog yet, i've mostly been doing programming on it, i JUST started visdev i'm sorry if it's uglyyyyy (FOR NOW)

anyway i'm trusting you with that link. i'm going to use my professional name on that project when it airs don't cross the wires pretty please just pretend that's a butch-y cis woman's game <3 guard the closet door babeyyyyy

[iamanerd1]

hey now that they've announced the incredible 3 i wanted to write this out because I've had this idea for an Incredibles sequel forever

so the main gimmick of this one is that there is a significant time jump. Dash and Violet are both adults or close to being, and Bob and Helen are finally retiring from superheroing for good.

Dash and Violet are new and successful young superheros and have to deal with the increasing commercialization (endorsing products, attending interviews, kissing babies ex) that is getting in the way of their actual job. This is leading them to feel burnt out as they want to do good, but so many other things are getting in the way of it. Also one of them develops a rivalry or a gets a nemesis with one of the new characters, and this is heavily coded to be analogous to their first serious relationship.

Helen and Bob have to deal with what their plans will be after they retire (go on cruises? travel the world? get a boat?) but they both don't actually want to retire and are just convinced the other does. This comes to a head in the mid-movie action scene where one of them does get seriously hurt, which makes them both realize that they do actually have to retire.

The villain of the film is Jack-Jack, though this is only revealed halfway through in dramatic fashion. Everyone else in the family has been mostly ignoring him the whole film, (which is used for some tasteless jokes) as they are dealing with their own problems, and just assumed that he was going to school as normal.

He turns on his family because they were all too busy being amazing superheroes while he was a kid, and ignored him while he was struggling to control all of his powers. Unlike Violet and Dash who only ever showed signs of having one power and never problem controlling them, Jack-Jack retains all of his abilities as he grows up.

What was once a cute quirk as a baby and toddler, becomes impossible to manage as a kid and teenager and he drowns under the weight of his uncontrollable abilities, until he eventually becomes resentful of his family. This is further influenced by a Villain that he meets (might be older Syndrome somehow?? who knows) that encourages this behavior and helps him learn to control his powers. (Though the villain has further plans that Jack-Jack doesn't know about, like exploiting him or something.)

Because the rest of the Parr family is fighting against Jack-Jack there is a emotional weight to every fight scene. They are trying to talk to him to get him to stand down, but the time for talking past years ago. Additionally because Jack-Jack has so many powers he is a really difficult person to fight and has a perfect counter for everyone's powers. (For example, he can match his dad's strength by turning into the devil baby rage monster, can trick Dash and his speed by making multiple copies of himself, and can get around Violet and his Mom by teleporting to the other dimension and disappearing.)

The conclusion is pretty cliche. The family realizes that they've been neglecting Jack-Jack and need to be there to support him. The villain does something incredibly evil and pushes too far and the whole family has to come together and stop him and also apologizes.

Helen and Bob resolve to put their retirement plans on hold to help him recover, while Violet and Dash more time with him. Bada bing bada boom, billion dollar movie easy. Villain dies in a volcano.

Anyway, I wanted to put this down on paper because I'm interested in what Disney is going to do for the third movie, and i am going to be judging that based on if I think that the movie they make is better than my ideas lol

[milkovichrules]

its tag game wednesday thursday!! thank you for tagging me lovely people ☺️ @iansw0rld @transmickey 🖤

if you could switch bodies with anybody for only one hour who would it be and what would you do? im a shortarse so someone big and tall would be fun... maybe a wrestler... probably baron corbin hes hot

what's your most trivial / dumbest hot take? mmm... maybe that every person should watch at least one animated thing (smth not made for kids like where the wind blows or arcane) and one thing from a non-english speaking country/with subtitles

if you had to teach a college course what would it be in? probably makeup artistry? its my one and only practical skill and I would've been a licensed artist if our teacher hadn't quit her job halfway through lmao

season 12 of shameless is suddenly happening and you've been out in charge! what plot point(s) are you gonna make happen? its the mickey and debbie show now and there will be various wholesome shenanigans but fr get carl outta the police force, maybe into college and that can be a nice bonding thing for him and liam studying together. oh and they definitely keep the house, maybe lip and deb get on good terms by fixing up the place together. debbie maybe runs into alex again and they give it another go? ian and mickey have wacky comic relief with their neighbours (the possibilities are endless) and probably think more seriously about starting a family and definitely get a cat or dog I just want to bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy

who would be your godly parent (can be any mythology)? I took a percy jackson quiz for this one and got Hephaestus, Greek god of artisans, blacksmiths, carpenters, craftsmen, fire, metallurgy, metalworking, sculpture and volcanoes, which sounds cool as shit (roman equivalent is Vulcan too?? hell yeah)

what's something you love about yourself? my eyes are really cool I think, they're mostly green but also have some blue and brown

describe your day in 5 emojis: 🥱👩‍💻☕️🎧📑

what shameless character do you think you could beat in a fight? mmmm either no one or the tiny social worker lady from season 3 lmao

tell us two truths and a lie, we'll try to guess the lie! I'm farsighted, I can speak a bit of norwegian, I love roller coasters

do you have a pet/pets? if so, how did they get their name(s)? I have two cats, artemis and athena, they're sisters from the same litter. my fiancé named them because she loves mythology (I'll put some kitten pics under the cut💕) alternate names were william the bloody and willow (if we got a boy and a girl, from buffy), april and miriam (from coraline), and teacup and lucifer (from the cat lady/downfall)

show us a meme (or picture) that captures your essence: middle one is irl only I love to be Perceived Online

what's your typical coffee / tea / beverage order? oat milk latte, iced if it's warm out

use a song to describe the last five years of your life: I really don't associate the stuff I listen to with my own life so these are just things I was really into that year:

2019: butterfly - loona 2020: lady wood - tove lo 2021: too late - the weeknd 2022: stayaway - muna 2023: hard times - ethel cain / death of me - pvris

Tagging: @softmick @golden28s @m4ndysk4nkovich @abetterdaaye @heymrspatel @stocious @callivich @jrooc @sgtmickeyslaughter @gallavichlover19 @depressedstressedlemonzest 🖤

kitten pics as promised (artemis/arti is the black and white one, athena/aggie is the tortie)

[skaald-of-the-hearth-fires]

OH OH OH I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT POF IT'S NOT EVEN FUNNY

(sorry, a break from your regularly-scheduled PS-era DE shenanigans)

The Commander is recovering (read: running away) from a traumatized past (read: best friend and superior Marshal Trahearne up and DYING BY MY HAND) and!!! if you notice!!

througout S3 ALL THEIR FRIENDS are falling away. (except Taimi, bless her heart.) half of DE? dead, injured, or mysteriously vanished. even Rytlock trudges off to the Black Citadel halfway through. Canach? yeets off to explore his freedom. Braham? let's not talk about him. that was BadTM for the Commander. the one person who might've understood the "just lost a loved one" and he's taking it WHOLLY differently from the Commander. Kas? up and leaves when Balthy comes calling. Jory? Injured, out of commission. Rox? with Braham bcoz SOMEBODY needs to look after him.

So Commander just lost their bestie, not a one of their friends BOTHERED to check up and ask how they're doing (except Taimi, bless her heart, but let's not trauma-dump on the sixteen-year-old) before yeeting off to whatever their business is. Comm is NOT in a good way.

Oh! and apparently killing dragons is bad now!

Yeah, Commander is in a GREAT mental place. before PoF even starts they yeets themselves down a volcano with the line, "there's a god and an Elder Dragon down here, but feel free to join" Comm, what are YOU doing down there?? get the yeet out and grab a bestie or two! OH RIGHT, none of them care! (except Taimi, BLESS HER HEART)

(well I mean, they DO care, they just have. poor ways of showing it. don't realize the Commander is slowly crumbling under the weight of expectations! grief! loss of purpose! loss of community! bc to the Commander it deffo looks like none of them care. they's just a dragon-slaying tool.)

Baby Aurene tries to be the emotional support puppy through all of this but that's just another responsibility the Commander has to deal with, what with training and etc, and it's just. So Awkward with Caithe there.

yeah no, Comm yeets down the volcano expecting to die and have done with it. dragons need to be protected? fr. guess I'm not needed anymore! and I might have doomed the whole world! if not the whole world is doomed anyway bc, have we established, Elder Dragons are Not Good for mortal civilizations.

Taimi yeets in and saves the day and COMM ENDS UP NOT DYING. OH JOY.

yeets off to Elona in a suicidal haze bc what else to do??

AND THEN THEIR BESTIES SHOW UP! and OP described this better than I can but this is Commander's recovery arc.

their friends are HERE for her. Rytlock and Kas and Canach!! Even Vlast up and DIES in their place! and they has their friends now! and there IS ways to kill the dragons safely!

still nobody has dealt with the grief over Trahearne dying, y'know, the thing that kicked all this off-

so then Commander up and DIES to Balthazar, goes through all their memories and comes out the other side teary-eyed and returning to their legacy and the line from a song who you are is not who you've been HITS

and the Commander STOPS being fatally independent and recruits Awakened resources and proves themselves and leads a whole army against the baddie, just like the good old days :))

GUILD WARS 2 IS A STORY ABOUT UNITY!!

The whole yeeting personal story is about bringing races together, bringing Orders together, bringing Destiny's Edge together to FIGHT THE DRAGONS. Mordremoth wreaks havoc on the Pact by DIVIDING them with the whole anti-sylvari stuff going on!

S3 is about how you really can't get things done by yourself. NOTHING the Commander tried to do in S3 actually got done. (except the stuff with Caudecus ig.) Jormag and Primordus? NOPE! Balthazar? nope! Comm had to go off and uproot a completely irrelevant dead mursaat to have any kind of finale to the season.

Stuff only got done in PoF once the Commander actually started working with people. S4 continues addressing the Trahearne issue (masterfully squeaking by only mentioning him once) but still, the story has us bringing factions, nations, etc. together into the "extended Pact" to bring down Kralkatorrik.

and then... well, I'm still trying to figure out/process IBS. but there was definitely a theme of unity there, too, between "United Legions" and the numerous, numerous, numerous allies we had for Dragonstorm.

Even in EoD we were bringing unlikely allies together.

The Commander's character flaw is deep independence? YOU BETCHA, the whole 10-year narrative arc is about the Commander's various struggles with the questions - independence? unity? loneliness? friendship? can I do it myself? trust vs protectiveness vs pride? when do I step back (IBS)? when do I step forward (PS)? how far do I step forward (S3 vs S4)?

I'm actually deeply interested to see what SotO is doing on that theme. I've heard complaints before about DW treated the Commander after they died, so is this similar or is it more pronounced? /rhetorical (I don't want spoilers lol)

Replaying POF. Something really deeply funny about how alone the Commander feels going into path of fire. Like if the Commander has a character flaw it's hyper independence.

So the commander is going into the desert to fight the god of war and you only ask for a ride. That's it. And if you would have asked some Shining blade more than likely could have been spared, you could have gone to the pact for aid.

And Then half your friends who aren't busy or bedridden or mad af at you, show up any fucking way. Rylock just like "what up hear you where tussling with the god of war, I want in" he has zero clue that it's the same dude he met in the mist he's not even there for atonement his just there for vibes.

Speaking of just vibes. Coming in with "I was bored heard you where here so like what's up? Where are we going?" Canach is like "I don't have an evil woman to boss me around.... Sup commander" once again no atonement, he already did that. He's just bored.

Then we have our bravest little toaster Kasmeer. This bitch is a believer. A

Believer. Believer.

But one thing about Kasmeer Meade is that she's your friend and guild mate first and foremost, and a believer in the six second. Kasmeer believes in you more than she believes in the gods she was raised to believe in. I just wish they explored that more in story.

Kasmeer believes in you more than gods. She believes in her friends more than gods.

Canach would bet on you everytime.

Rylock believes in your leadership more than the most important thing which is his legion. Which he was tribune for.

Which is why it's night and day from what's going on with SOTO. All the sudden no one gives a fuck about where you are. And that's why it's jarring and over all doesn't feel right.

[jesuisgourde]

My two main books I’m reading right now are The Quick & The Dead by Joy Williams and Under The Volcano by Malcolm Lowry and it’s very strange how similar they are despite being drastically different. All of the characters in the Joy Williams book speak to each other like they’re not talking to/with each other, but like they’re all having an imaginary conversation they wish they were having with someone else. So all of the dialogue is simultaneously very emotional/deep/thoughtful and incredibly shallow because no one is actually listening to each other, and when they actually are listening, they’re either struggling to understand, or understanding but thinking about their own reactions to things. Whereas in the Lowry there’s a lot of things that go unsaid simply because of silence. But the characters’ internal monologues do the same thing, circling around and around desires or scenarios they either remember happening or imagine happening, without properly landing on understanding each other. They have moments where they consider oh maybe that’s how this other person feels but then they think about other things instead. And yet the characters’ thoughts are just packed with metaphors and imagery and poetry that feels like literal thought rather than a summary abstraction of what the characters are thinking about, a very similar device to the Williams dialogue.

[rayshippouuchiha]

To Minor Car Crash Anon (and also iwantedtobeadored?)

I've also been in a near miss! In my case, I tried to follow what I've been taught and was trying to do the right thing. My parents and I are separated by a mountain range, maybe a 3 hour drive? I work nights and wanted to get home- but my sleep schedule was all messed up. I felt fine leaving, but an hour into my drive and just before I would be heading into a mountain pass with lots of turns that people like to take to fast, I could tell that I was nodding off. So I pull into a parking lot under a tree and let myself fall asleep without an alarm. About 3 hours later I'm awake and feel like I made a good choice and I'm set to go.

I'm halfway through the pass when I find myself nodding off again. But this time? There is no place for me to pull over. I start doing everything I can to stay awake, because I've got someone on my tail and they arent backing off even when I flash my lights. Slapping myself, biting my hand, singing, etc.

Doesnt help. I nod off on a turn with a steep rock wall on my right and a sheer drop into a river on my left. I'm very, very lucky- I lose my passenger mirror to the wall, and I hit my skid plate on the road since my right tire went into the gravel by the wall. I wake up, process everything in that split second, and manage to smoothly correct my tires back onto the road without going into the other lane, where I would have hit another car that came around the corner- or gone straight off the side and flipped my car ass over end against the trees on the way into the river.

My kitten was also in the car with me. My lesson that I learned? I keep caffeinated juice in my trunk, if I'm not on a hard time limit, its safer to stay and get solid sleep, no matter if you have work the next day. The best thing you can do is make sure you dont break down until you're safe, and if you feel you cant talk to family because you dont want to tell them what just happened, call a friend or someone you know will help out.

I didnt call my family once I got home, because having to cater to them was completely out of my emotional reach. So I called a friend who I knew would be willing to just sit and talk, acknowledge what happened but not beat it to death and help me organize my thoughts to figure out what to do next... and maybe some timely, random discussions about fandoms and random shit, because he knew that letting me have a full breakdown would be worse than breaking my thought process, because when I sink into a cesspit of negative emotions it feels like poison and will linger like miasma for ages.

And if you dont have anyone to talk to? Straight up call an anonymous free hotline. Youd be surprised what just having a calm voice on the line can do to help, and you arent going to be haunted by friends or family about how you're doing all the time.

To this day I eyeball that corner whenever I have to cross the mountains. And it took me a long time before I trusted myself to take my kitten with me on another car ride, even just around town.

Also, even if you dont feel sore, I recommend an epson salt bath- or even a bubble bath. Put on a movie, or a David Attenborough documentary, something that you can wander in and out of a room from.

You gotta bleed that stress out. Like poking steam vents into a volcano so you dont get mt St. Helen's. Maybe give each other a massage and find a way to giggle over knots and bruises. Crying is a totally okay form of relief- but I know I hate myself more from how exhausting, repetitive and tiring it can wear on you.

I hope this helps.

!!!!

[thefuriousstarlightstudent]

1-8, 11-12, 16-24, and 27-28. I'm sorry it's so many! Answer as many as you'd like, please! I'm just nosy 😅😁

Thanks for all the questions! 

1. Most of my ideas are just things I’d like to see but haven’t been written or if they have been they’re not finished or have a ship I can’t stand. 

2. Like in terms of the fandom or the actual writing process? In terms of fandom, I need to know most of the recent canon material. In terms of the writing process, I need to know I have at least an hour to write uninterrupted.

3. Mostly when I stop having fun writing it. At that point, it tends to be finished and I just polish it.

4. Um, usually I just declare it done when I’m over either 4000 words for bigger fics and 1500 words for small fics. It’s not a super strict rule though. I have fics where chapters can be under 500 words.

5. Once the main reason I wrote this fic is finished and it has a... happy... ending. Or at least some closure. 

6. To be honest, usually, a line already occurring in the fic or random google searches. titles are hard, man. :)

7. I think they’re a good idea. They tend to be shorter than a usual chapter and give people an idea of what to expect for the fic. 

8. I like them. They tend to tie up loose ends that weren’t tied up in the main storyline and chapters. Plus sometimes they give a hint of what might come.

11. Question marks. It’s so fun to make people confused and asking all sorts of things.

12. Exclamation point... but only when used improperly or in excess. Like, why use them if it’s not needed? It’s the equivalent of yelling on paper, or screen, in this case.

16. Describe feelings really well. Like, not just ‘he was angry’. Something like ‘his heart beat against his chest harder and harder as his anger peaked. It felt like he was a volcano about to blow, all the anger was simmering just below the brim, ready to make itself known.’ Just, describe stuff in uniquely.

17. Pretty much the same as above. Describe really well. Although a cry of anguish works pretty well too. :)

18. I’m not really sure? Just go with what makes you laugh. If it’s funny to you, chances are other people will find it funny too. 

19. I haven’t really figured those out yet. Short sentences?

20. I don’t do smut. A lot of the fandoms I write for are like my childhood. I can’t write smut for that. Just... not me. 

21. Again, I don’t really write a ton of romance and when I do it comes out blocky. I guess just make it seem happy?

22. Anything that means a lot to both + hugs and feelings = fluff!

23. I just keep a master list of every character and that helps. I’m definitely not good at it though. :)

24. I’m not sure how to explain it. The path that needs to be taken and how they need to be written just sears itself into my brain and it works out okay? I think?

27. Planning ahead? Ha! Definitely as it comes up. Things tend to change as I write too. Half the time I’ll plan for something, research said thing, then get rid of it and add something new halfway through.

28. To be honest I’m terrible at it. I’m not even sure how I do it. Mostly misdirection with other things? I think? 

[judeonthemove]

Livin' La Vida Locomotive

I'm not sure why I expected Ecuador to be a bit less developed than Peru, but I did and it isn't. The niceness of Baños wasn't an anomaly, which has been handy considering we'd discussed treating this month as more of a holiday. For our wedding anniversary we treated each other to some time apart and I went off to investigate the eponymous thermal baths of Baños. I jest of course, but the longest we've been out of each other's sight in nine months was just under four hours when I climbed Sydney Harbour Bridge. This is not natural by anyone's standards.

For those of you who've had the pleasure of visiting the Thermae Spa in Bath, you need to clear your mind of that image. Baños baths are an altogether more basic proposition of four outdoor pools: one clear and cold, and three murky ones at the Goldiloocks temperatures of tepid, hot and cauldron. The hot water comes courtesy of the nearby volcano Tungurahua, while the cold water arrives direct from the waterfall above. $3 gets you an entry ticket and compulsory natty pink swim hat, but no instructions. I stared cluelessly at the watery chaos for a minute, a symphony of concrete cancer and trip hazards, before throwing my things in a crate and finding what seemed to be the right place to leave them. I also stared at the hole on the lower level, empty save for a woman with a broom. One of the pools was closed, but which one? Getting to work with the remaining three I soon rejected the tepid pool as it was essentially children soup. I'd been looking forward to the challenge of the cauldron, but of course it was that one that was closed. That left me with cold and hot, so I concentrated on maximising the difference. In addition to the cold pool were a set of cascade showers fed from a pipe inserted into the waterfall. Most of the locals were avoiding the cold water completely, or tricking each other into standing under it and laughing at the screams. As the only gringo woman in the place I was pretty conspicuous as the person who actually seemed to enjoy the freezing inundation. After a couple of hours I was fully pruned up and couldn't justify waiting another two hours for the super hot pool to fill. I squelched back in the drizzle to make myself presentable.

We had a look at the museum attached to the cathedral, which featured a great display of pre-Colombian pieces, some unbrilliant art, the extensive wardrobe of the local Virgen figurine, and a hilariously creepy room full of taxidermy, religious art, toy vehicles and typewriters. I never need to see the stations of the cross juxtaposed with poorly stuffed pumas ever again. In keeping with the Alpine flavour of the area, we went for dinner at a Swiss restaurant, where I promptly mixed up stroganoff and goulash and ordered the wrong dinner. What a numpty.

Another emerging feature of Ecuador has been the predictable and efficient bus system. Everything's clearly marked and they leave on time. Most of the long distance buses, regardless of the operator, cost about $1-1.5 per hour so you can have a reasonable guess as to when you're going to arrive. With Ecuador being a compact gem of a country, there weren't going to be any arduous legs. Two or three hours up the road was Riobamba. We were due to stay a couple of nights in order to play on the restored train line. What our guidebook failed to mention was that since it was published, they've changed the schedules and the daily train now runs from a town two hours further away. Whoops. We had no trouble entertaining ourselves in Riobamba and had a well timed visit to the city museum and gallery, while an orchestra rehearsed below. Having not heard any orchestral music since Australia, the sound brought a grin to my face and a tear to my eye. The snowy peak of volcano Chimborazo emerged from its cloud shrouds to loom in proprietary fashion over the city. Back at our hostal, the owners' confident small daughter assailed us with an incomprehensible monologue and barrage of questions and/or instructions that we were incapable of responding to. Bored of rearranging piles of unread Gideon bibles among the pot plants and fed up with my refusal to biro in them on command, she hid our room key and hit us both on the head with a stick. Highly entertaining but nevertheless a great reminder of why we don't have kids.

Alausi is a little town with a big claim to railway fame. Halfway down the newly restored Quito to Guayaquil line, it sits above La Nariz del Diablo (The Devil's Nose). I'm very partial to an epic train journey, and what this lacked in length it certainly made up for in engineering and sheer bloody-mindedness. Around two thousand men died to create 12kms of switchback track, descending an 800m rock face. We arrived in town and were most joyful to find that the train tracks ran up the middle of the street we were staying on. A couple of hours later and we were ensconced in a classic wooden carriage, slowly making our way down a cliff. My camera chose this moment to start malfunctioning with a blank screen, leaving me pressing the button and hoping for the best. As this is basically the extent of my photographic skill anyway, it didn't make a great deal of difference to the results. At the bottom was a little station with retail opportunities and a couple of horses and llamas to be used as photo props. The horses looked very much over it, but the llamas had some spirit left and concentrated on being noncompliant. We hid from the souvenir frenzy, but I got drawn in when the traditional dance display took a turn for the interactive. James stayed safely on the side-lines, in charge of incriminating pictures. Back in Alausi we checked into our lodgings and discovered that even the glowing reviews had not prepared us for how nice a hostal it was. Brand new contemporary styling, spotlessly clean, delicious breakfast, and with a massive comfy bed. I immediately declared that I was to be transported around Ecuador in said bed from then on, and it was with some regret that we moved on after one night. Rough calculations told us we had time to get to everywhere we wanted to see, but only if we kept rolling.

The route to the city of Cuenca assailed us with more handsome scenery than is seemly, scrolling down in scale through Alpine, Scottish Highlands, and Lake District. In a clear contrast to previous countries we've visited, there don't seem to be Inca-style terraces here. No matter how steep, the fields follow the line of the hills and are separated by shrubs or trees. The result is a verdant cornucopia of produce and a very different look to the countryside. The southern city of Cuenca was elegant and cultured, and we'd hoped our hostal with integral bar-restaurant would make for a lively weekend base. The hitch in this otherwise sound plan was the profoundly intrusive noise bleeding into all the bedrooms. We were prepared for the late night music, and indeed made good use of happy hour and the tasty menu on offer. What was less manageable was the 6am pounding rock wake up call. I shambled, incredulous, into the restaurant area to find the source was actually next door. A staff member told me with a shrug that their neighbour did it every day. And he did. Clearly there was some beef going on, resulting in the hostal guests being tortured with a sleep deprivation spit roasting. On the second night we coped by playing our own loud music which worked really well and still couldn’t be heard by the other guests over the general din. There is music everywhere in Ecuador, but the ‘80's and ‘90's pop and rock fetish of the rest of South America is not such a thing here. As such I have had withdrawal symptoms from the tracks we've heard most days since May, and James kindly downloaded Alphaville’s ‘Big In Japan’ to help with my DTs. I invite you to join me in my obsessive earworm: https://youtu.be/tl6u2NASUzU. Five hour sleep window notwithstanding, Cuenca itself lived up to its Unesco hype with beautiful colonial architecture, galleries and museums. A riverside walk took us further out to the suburbs. Cuenca was clearly one of the wealthiest places we'd been in months, as suggested by the number of aesthetic dentists, gyms and plush interior design studios. Strikingly as we left, our bus drove for miles before we saw anything like the simple breeze block and wood homes we've been accustomed to seeing.

Our flying visit to Ecuador's second city, Guayaquil, was achieved thanks to a stunning bus trip up and over the Parque Nacional Cajas. Sat on the continental divide with roads winding up over 4300m the first couple of hours was textbook glaciated landscapes of u-shaped valleys and interconnected lakes. My geography teachers might have despaired at my sixth-form attendance rate, but they did instil an absolute love of this stuff. Pine trees and eucalypts gave way to a tight, spongy carpet of mosses and tough grasses as we ascended into the clouds. With ears popping, our water filter bottles leaking under the pressure strain, and the inevitable altitude cough, I tried to make a mental note to be ginger with my deodorant. Every time we do this I forget, and end up with an unfortunate looking cream explosion in my armpit the first time I dislodge the roller ball. I forgot yet again of course, because travelling turns you into an in-the-moment goldfish brain. A brief stop at the top with the mists rolling and burning off in the ravines below allowed the poor bus a bit of a breather. Heading off again, we must have passed through some magic geography portal as we were straight into lush cloud forest. A great deal of down was followed quite suddenly by dead flat as we proceeded across to the coast. Acre upon acre of cacao, banana and pineapple plantations baked in the sun.

Guayaquil itself was a thriving, sprawling port city and we had one and a half days to get acquainted. We focused our efforts on a park full of iguanas, the expansive riverside promenade, the excellent free museums and galleries, and a pretty hillside neighbourhood topped with a stripy lighthouse. Our cheap as chips flophouse next to a main road was still quieter than the aesthetically pleasing but acoustically offensive hostal we'd had in Cuenca. The modern art gallery had an extensive ethnographic section and we became mesmerised by a documentary about a group of men who sailed from Ecuador to Australia on traditional balsa wood rafts. We sat there for over an hour, prompting a security guard to come looking for their missing in action visitors. When you essentially don't have anywhere to live, there's a risk of being in constant motion. Just sitting in a quiet place, and getting immersed in something can be a real treat. Guayaquil was our gateway to the beach, so off we went again. The scenery may have been unprepossessing barren-looking sand and gravel, but it showcased the quality of the highway. Uniquely among the South American countries we've visited, across Ecuador there are subtle hints of coherent government planning and investment. From the ubiquitous rainbow branding onwards, there is a feeling of continuity despite the radically different terrains of the forest, mountains and coast. The excellent road and bridge system is one of the most obvious indicators of massive infrastructure spending, but it's also there in the schools, healthcare facilities, emergency services provision, free museums and public spaces. It seems to connect the country without homogenising. It feels lovely to visit, and I hope that translates into the experience of actually living here as Ecuador recovers from the financial troubles of the recent past.

The highway wasted no time delivering us to tiny Oloncito. Unlike most of the Pacific coast of South America, Ecuador is blessed with inviting sandy beaches so this was the first opportunity for a sea swim in four months. I say swim, but the water was really more suited to surfers, so jumping around trying not to get knocked flat by waves is probably a more apt description. Our hostal was one of those quirky labours of love, set in a tropical garden with lots of knick-knacks, hammocks, great carpentry, and inventive use of concrete. Unusually, the building we were staying in was complete, but more typically one of the others was a work in progress and another had been left with the classic concrete uprights and sprouting steel reinforcements look. Imagined but never realised upper floors are the quintessential South American building practice. We were the sole guests, which suited us just fine. Down with another cold, I took the opportunity of spending a day with nothing more pressing to do but nap. Suitably rested, we spent the next day walking on the beach, chaperoned by the resident dog Dixie. Like most of the numerous dogs in these parts, Dixie was nominally owned but free to do as he pleased. What pleased Dixie was accompanying guests wherever they went, so he'd been for lunch at a beach cabaña, showed us round Olon, and now came miles up the beach. Dixie busied himself inspecting all the corpses of huge sea birds, puffer fish, and a big turtle. Nervy orange crabs scattered as we approached, flitting into holes in the sand. We turned round as the tide reached the top of the beach, and Dixie spent the return journey accelerating wildly into the surf chasing birds. I don't spend much time with dogs and am not generally a fan, but it was a great pleasure and entertainment to be in Dixie's company. Fully in holiday mode we committed the evening to good food and sangria.

Our nine month travelling anniversary saw us reluctantly crowbarring ourselves out of Oloncito and moving a not too challenging hour up the road to Puerto Lopez. Having found our brick and bamboo hut at the northern end of the tourist town, we alighted upon a seafood restaurant for lunch. Said restaurant had a resident floofy cat and we required little persuasion (read none) to share our laps and food. I have no poker face when it comes to cats anyway, but my desperation for mog company is utterly shameless now. Puerto Lopez was well stocked with felines so there was plenty of chances for a fuss. The sea off Puerto Lopez was well stocked with whales, another fluky bit of timing on our part. The obligatory boaty day trip took us out to sea and for a visit to Isla de la Plata. We'd been given a 100% guarantee of seeing whales, which boded well, but we tried to manage our expectations. An hour off the coast and there were humpback whales everywhere. The helm did a great job of manoeuvring into good positions so we could watch these magnificent creatures sliding through the water. I'm not sure you'd ever tire of whale tail salutes. Moving on, we visited the island for a couple of hours hiking and bird watching for nesting blue-footed boobies and frigate birds. I'm not sure you'd ever tire of the amusement of hearing the word ‘boobies' repeatedly. The birds were entirely unfazed by the visitors admiring their big turquoise feet and fluffy chicks. Turtles had surrounded the boat when we arrived, and afterwards we went round to a bay for snorkelling and general coral and fish wonderment.

Much as it would have been nice to tarry by the sea, we bid our final farewell to the Pacific and embarked on a ten hour, three bus slog into the mountains. Although a long day, it all went very smoothly and we had the entertainment of passing through the marvellously named Jipijapa on the way. It was only over the last couple of hours that we gained altitude, but once the climb began it did not muck about. Sunset found us above the clouds, like a duvet of pink candy floss, before the bus picked its way across to Zumbahua in the dark. Chucked off on the highway, we zig-zagged down into the almost deserted town and found a bed for the night on the square. Finding any tea was a little tricky as the only clearly advertised restaurant wasn't serving. Next door, in what looked like someone's tiny front room were four tables and a lady serving a great value set menu. Starving, we gratefully dug into the soup, chicken and refreshing chicha morada (purple corn drink) before heading to bed. Morning revealed Zumbahua to be no more busy by day, but we found a corner cafe where another lovely indigenous lady conjured up everything she had on offer for breakfast: pastries, chicken and rice, boiled eggs, juice, tea and coffee. It was a good job she did, as it would be twelve hours before we had anything else.

Zumbahua sits on what is known as the Quilotoa Loop, a multi-day Andean hiking route. Quilotoa itself is a volcano and while we were too time strapped for the full loop, we were keen to visit there. Waddling away from breakfast we caught a lift up the road. Quilotoa village appeared to have had a very recent and very comprehensive redevelopment, resulting in something of a The Prisoner does Middle Earth vibe. There was little going on, which served to heighten the undeniable presence of the rim. Picking our way in slightly the wrong direction through a stony car park and building site, we found the main viewing area. It was, exactly as advertised yet still difficult to believe, a ruddy great volcano crater lake. So we stood there admiring it, both starting to wonder what else we were going to do with our day. Well there was a path...and maybe we could walk round the rim for a bit...and well we're at least a third of the way round now and that high bit over there looks just about manageable...

Seven hours later we were chasing the sunset back into Quilotoa, James just about still with a spring in his step, and I with legs of jelly and lead. Sometimes you really question your own sanity. Our circumnavigation had been quite a scramble round the narrow ridge, on a path primarily featuring powdered granite. Asthma plus my latest cold did me no favours whatever, and we realised part way round that this was the highest elevation yet that we’d done vigorous exercise at. The high bit reliably informed us it was 3930m, which I appreciated from my position sprawled on the ground under the sign. You certainly value your views when you've worked for them. Vast rolling mountain landscape surrounded us, striped with fields and rent with canyons. Vibrant flowers, grasses and heather-like shrubs softened the vertiginous drops on both sides. Intermittent clouds behaved themselves but painted the lake a steely emerald. Pine and the woody scent of burned stubble filled the air around the crunchy path. Given that my dodgy knees make me less mountain goat and more Professor Yaffle on slopes, it wasn't the most elegant or proficient descent. Content that we had done the volcano justice, we negotiated a lift back to Zumbahua, squished in the front seat of a pickup. Evidently, Tuesday nights in Zumbahua are even quieter than Mondays, so we had to content ourselves with a beer, then crisps and chocolate for dinner, from one of the very local local shops.

A chilly, sunny day greeted us as we exited our guesthouse the next morning. A sheep trotted across the deserted square. We eschewed the chance of fried fish for breakfast and went straight up to the highway to wait for the bus. The bus was already there so it all proved mightily efficient. A couple more hours of gorgeous mountain scenes, with occasional llama spottings and a good workout for the brakes, and we were down in Latacunga. There was no particular reason for us to visit this city near Cotapaxi volcano, but it seemed like a sensible stop on route to the north. We found somewhere to stay and were pleasantly surprised to be overlooking the main square. The rest of the day involved eating and TV, which was just what was required. Evening entertainment came courtesy of an aerobics flashmob in the square, and the sight of a group of nuns enjoying a night out at the pizzeria, sitting below a large poster of the Vatican.

We bid farewell to Latacunga and set off for Mindo, a journey involving a bus to Quito, traversing the length of the capital from southern to northern bus terminals, and then another bus. Cloud cover blocked the potential view of Cotapaxi as we sped through the self-explanatory Volcano Alley. Quito snuck up quickly, but due to it's position in a twisty valley, there was no big reveal moment. The southern bus terminal was all gleaming airport-style modernity as we transited through to one of the cross-city bendy buses. Warnings about crowding and theft risk came to naught and we made it two thirds of the way up town before being turfed off and directed to another stop on a different line. Arriving at the northern terminal we needed, we were feeling pretty smug about being in time for the one o'clock bus to Mindo. The lady selling tickets, however, was not so confident. Our transactional Spanish has developed to the point where we can ask for things, which is fine as long as those things are available and the person doesn't really have to say anything to us in response. This was not one of those times. The one o'clock wasn't going to happen, but we had no idea why. Baffled by my blank face, the woman borrowed my phrasebook and managed “the way is closed”. This wasn't particularly enlightening so I gave up and had a grumpy, helpless sit down. James successfully procured tickets for the four o'clock and we sat for three and a half hours, contemplating the meaning of her gnomic proclamation. Later, sitting in traffic so bad that the driver turned off the engine and got out of the bus, we had some idea of what she might have referred to. As we were just five hundred metres short of the equator, James posited that there had probably been a pile-up caused as all the vehicles turned the right way up for the northern hemisphere. We never did figure it out, but the road cleared, we took our latitude screenshots and the bus clambered off into the cloud forest in the failing light. It would have been a beautiful journey...on the one o'clock bus. Four hours later than expected, and after James narrowly avoided starting a barney with a nun as we tried to get off the bus, a nice cold beer was the only way to say hello to Mindo.

The morning brought hummingbirds and a large group of young Americans to our hostal. There's nothing like vocal fry grating around a hammock attic to cut through a lie-in. The hummingbirds however, were delightful, flitting and chirruping around. In the light of day, Mindo was revealed as a pretty little hippy town sitting in a bowl of forested hills. With only one road out, all other paved thoroughfares ended abruptly in trees, and were liberally decorated with snoozing dogs. We had a nice lazy day pottering around and avoiding the inevitable cloud forest rain. When choosing our accommodation we’d narrowed it down to two, both the same sort of price, and both with resident cats mentioned in the reviews (I told you it was bad), but plumped for the one with the great chill out area. The cat, a spirited little ginger, appeared when it rained and stood on my shoulders for a few minutes when I picked it up. The hostal owners didn't know what its name was or even if it had one, so we really weren't sure who had adopted who. We had vowed to be more active the next day, so set off in a cab up the mountain to the tarabita cable car. The cable car involved an open cage powered by a car engine. This led into a series of gorges full of prehistoric-looking plants, and waterfalls where you were encouraged to swim. An hour of steep forest paths later and we were at the top of a flight of waterfalls. James waited patiently as I insisted in swimming in each one on the way down. I became more soggy, dishevelled and excitable, until we ran out of waterfalls and hiked up to the cable car and back down the mountain. Needing to secure bus tickets for the next day, we went back via the high street, which involved passing the other hostal we'd considered. Surely we wouldn't happen upon Felipe, cat of Booking.com review fame. Of course we would! Felipe turned out to be a super-sociable ginger who fairly demanded a through belly rub. Mindo was full of cats, including at one of the general stores where we spied one nestled among the bananas. After a thorough shower, Saturday night proceeded in pizza and cocktails fashion.

Despite the excellent distracting cat action, we had managed to procure bus tickets, so it was off to Otavalo via the bus stations of northern Quito. Sunday traffic made this pleasingly straightforward and we were quickly through the city and heading north across the equator again. The seemingly brand new highway entered a huge, complicated valley which had been carved up and sprayed with more concrete than I've ever seen. The engineering involved was both shocking and impressive. We wound through the crumbly, cactus strewn mountains, chased by angry clouds and beat the rain to Otavalo. And here we are, in a third floor corner room with full on volcano panorama view. We've seen and done so much in Ecuador that it's exhausting just trying to remember it all. Only two weeks left now. We've gotta keep on keepin’ on!