The night had been really, really cold; I did not have proper clothes and the sleeping bag did not protect enough. After more than an hour and changing seats I had made my way to the last row and to the corner bench and had been distant enough from the open door and the cold wind that was blowing in. Finally I had some sleep; no security this morning that woke me up, no orders to sit straight, no questions about my next destination. I asked for the bus to the historical center, bought the ticket, went to the bus stop and took the next bus to the center.

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The drive was quiet long; I did not have any idea of the size of Quito and had to go from one end of the city to almost the other end. I got off the bus and my first impression was a young boy wearing a German football team shirt with the name Alexander on the back. My second impression was that the historical center was really, really historical, well preserved and well maintained. I did not have time to prepare myself at all and was disorientated; I did not know where to start or where to go. A group of American tourist walked by and I asked to have a brief look at their map. I had seen enough and walked towards the main square.

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The main square was beautiful, definitely historical and very alive with a very diverse mixture of government officials, tourists, artists, shoe cleaners, sales people with candy and ice cream, police, military, security, beggars, cleaning staff and so on and so on.

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I found several spots to absorb the atmosphere, listen to live music, take my pictures or just simply sit down and relieve my back. I had become a backpacker, the backpack had become part of me, the backpack was my home, my last belonging, my identity, my identification and my friend.

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I walked from the main square along colonial facades and churches to the next square and to the theater square. I had not looked up the attractions and now the attractions surprised me. I love history and history was very, very present here in Quito. I reached the main cathedral and walked back, back to another huge square. I did not know how long I had been walking but my back reminded me and I sat down for a while to enjoy the atmosphere.

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I was exhausted and decided to go to the other bus terminal and was hoping to find a terminal building, find internet access and find a comfortable sleeping place for tonight. Depending on the comfort at the bus terminal I wanted to decide if I would stay another day, go back to the historical center or maybe take the telferico up into the mountains or continue to the Pacific.

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I entered an extremely full bus; I must have been the last passenger to get on, but there was still space for more and at the next bus stop 2 teenagers entered and stood next to me. I held on to the rails at the ceiling and to the backpack. The 2 teenagers got off again and so did my wallet. The doors had closed and immediately I had a strange feeling, touched my document belt; the belt was open and the wallet gone, passport, licenses, credit cards, all documents.

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I could not believe this, I was in a shock, I wanted to cry but I could not, I was feeling ill, I had to sit down, I had to realize what had happened, I had to think, I had to stay calm. The bus arrived at the terminal and I went straight to the police to file a report. I had to wait for half an hour for the tourist police to arrive and was treated very friendly and another half an hour later I had the police report, the document that would have to help me now for the rest of the journey.

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It was Carnival, German embassy was closed. I did not want to wait 5 days,  I had 27 Dollars left and I wanted to leave. I spent 15 Dollars for the bus ticket to Cuenca. I needed a sleeping place and I needed to get away from Quito. I had to stay calm and think and sleep.

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