North of Quito was Otavalo, famous for its markets: vegetables; woven mats; hand knitted woollens, silver jewellery; panpipes; you name it. Otavalo had it.
Travelling with a pack, I looked but hardly bought.
I was equally fascinated by the people and how they dressed. This was the home of the famous South American music; the haunting melodies where panpipes lifted you as high as the Andes.