You step out of a bakery near Parque Juan Montalvo with a bag of warm pan de Ambato, and the white bell tower of the cathedral rises across the street. Pigeons crowd the writer's statue, students cut through the gardens, and on a clear morning a snowy volcano peeks out between the buildings.
Across the river, Atocha keeps the Quinta of Juan León Mera inside a garden of old trees, and on Mondays the markets overflow with fruit, potatoes and flowers. Days stay mild all year and nights turn cool, so a light jacket earns its place. When your own list runs out, a Local Friend picks the next stop, maybe roast chicken with peanut sauce up in Pinllo.
