Before breakfast, Cuenca is a blank tablet. On the streets are a few people, stray dogs, taxi drivers, construction men headed for jobs. Churches aren’t open, retail shops are locked tight, and, as you explore, the Historical District is shut down tight too. As people wake and go to work, traffic increases. Walking past fellow pedestrians on narrow sidewalks is difficult. Even though Ecuadorians are shorter and smaller than Americans, there is still barely room for them to walk side by side, much less someone my size. I stay to the right on sidewalks but sometimes move left and hug a wall. These sidewalks and streets are not made for American bodies, cars, or intentions. First thing in the morning, the city is fresh. By the end of the day, Cuenca’s tablet is filled with stories. I stick with postcards and snapshots on Scotttreks. It is a challenge to be short, sweet, to the point.  
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