When we walked into the church, we were told to get tickets from the church bookstore in order to see the church inside. The church bookstore gave us two tickets and 2 postcards for S/.20,000 (+/- $4 total). We went back to the church and were told to "go in here, the elevator is at the end." and we were left on our own.
The whole church was made of cement and stone - unfinished both inside and out. They have not and will not finish it because if they do, they have to pay taxes to Rome, and the purpose of the church is as a gift from the city to the heart of Christ.
The sanctuary was deserted but the stained glass was beautiful with the main lower (most easily visible) set depicting the life of Christ, another slightly smaller, higher set of the different Popes and Bishops, and yet another smaller set up near the front of the disciples/apostles.
We took the elevator to the third floor - a small store with artesanías and knick-knacks. They told us we could go up both the cross tower and the bell tower if we wished.
"To get to the cross tower, you go on a wooden bridge and up a ladder here," she says, "Si no le da pánico" (If it doesn't panic you)
We look where she points ... it's inside, but we're above the ceiling of the sanctuary which drops down on both sides from the center where the arches are in the ceiling below, and across the middle, atop the length of which is a wooden plank suspended "bridge" (more like scaffolding) with rope railings - at the end of which is a thin ladder made of soldered rebar leading up to an outdoor porch.
Okay, we can do this. Not such a steady bridge, but ... we make it to the ladder. We go up the ladder - about 25 rungs or so, maybe 30. We step out on the porch - we're outside, the wind is blowing, cool view! We walk around the corner and see a sight that gives us both pause... "Oh! ... *THAT'S* where we're supposed to go?"
Another metal step ladder suspends itself out into the middle of nowhere, turns, and goes up still further, connecting itself to the cross tower turret.
*VERY* daunting, indeed. Don't look down ... it's wayyy down!
The first ladder going up from the porch to the turn is quite steep and if you fall, frankly, you're dead. It's about 30 more rungs upward and then you turn on this tiny platform and climb another 20 rungs to get back to the tower from mid-air.
My God, I did it! I nearly hyperventilated with fright, but I made it to the turret, wind blowing and all, and I clung to one of the four columns for dear life, looking down to the ground 250 feet below us and feeling *extremely* vulnerable.
"I'm afraid of heights! What an insane thing to do!!!! This column is MINE! I'm NOT MOVING!!" {pause, looking down and facing reality} "You mean I have to go back down?? ... BACKWARDS????"
I survived. Between sweat and fear, surely I lost 10 pounds!
Down the ladder backwards, around the corner, down the second ladder, down the third ladder of rebar, back across the wooden bridge and into the little shop again, My legs feel like stumps, shaky, numb and stiff ...and they say we can climb the bell tower too.
"Is it that scary?" I ask.
"No, it's steps -- except for a little ladder at the end."
"Okay." I catch my breath and head for the stairs.
Up 3 flights of stairs (past a restaurant ... in a cathedral???) and then there's this teensy metal winding staircase tightly spiraling up to infinity. It was like marching in place and turning around, except that we were going up. We finally reach the belfry at 350 feet. *MUCH* safer, however, than the cross tower.
It's nearly one o'clock, so we decide to sit there and watch the bells ring while we attempt to get our breathing back to normal. We sit up there until 1 o'clock gongs ... but the bells don't move! I look further up and see that they have a SPEAKER connected from the level above the bells. !!!
Well *that* won't do! Jeff and I grabbed the cables connected to the bell clappers and clanged the 4 church bells by hand, having some fun before winding back down the staircase and taking the elevator to the 1st floor from the 3rd ... weak-kneed and shaking from all the exercise (remember, this was only our 3rd day in the altitude ....)
We took a taxi back to the school (where Melissa had been all day) and stopped at the little restaurant (Q'Más) between the school and the hospital, bought a few empanadas de carne, went back to the Guest house, ate the empanadas, drank Inca Kola and recovered a bit before picking up Melissa when school let out for the afternoon.
After picking up Melissa, we did some minor shopping, picked up copies of our passports, and went out to Los Troncos, an Argentine Parrillada down near the stadium (across from another mall, Quicentro), where we had a nice steak dinner.
Upon taking his first few bites, Jeff immediately noticed the difference in the more robust flavor as well as the bolder color of the Ecuadorian-grown tomatoes and potatoes.
The whole time, thus far, I had been interpreting for Jeff. When we got to the restaurant, after we had our dinner, the waiter asked "Quieres postre?" ("would you like dessert?") and I turned to Jeff to interpret and said, "Quieres postre?" ... go figure.
During the meal Melissa had asked me, "Mom, what is *that*?" pointing to a very large item, about the size of an average American watermelon, being carried by one of the waiters. "That... is a *real* papaya!" She had some for dessert for the first time -- and loved it.
... and then we went home to get ready to go to the Mitad del Mundo (Middle of the World) on Wednesday morning.
