The first impression I had of Canoa was not a very nice one. It is still very much damaged from the earthquake, with piles of rubble, metal, bricks and bamboo lying round. I got off the bus and walked down the malecón to find a place to stay for the next few days, and the more I saw of the place, the more I missed Mompiche. The only great thing so far was the amount of graffiti scattered across the town.
After dropping my bags off at “Hotel Bambú” and wandering for abit, I eventually decided on a place to eat, and parked myself at a table outside of the restaurant facing the beach. The sky became a pallet of pastel colours, with the ocean water reflecting them and the sun looked like an intensely hot plate, filling the horizon with lush red undertones. Dusk has a way of making even the most sceptical looking place seem unique and magical, but still, Canoa was not a place I could imagine staying for days on end. I met three really nice Australian lads at the hostel, and we ended up spending our time in Canoa together, and I actually did enjoy my days here, but something was still not doing it for me. I met a fair amount of travelers that have stayed for weeks here or kept coming back after visiting other places, and I just could not see why.
However, it was not until the morning of when I left when Canoa grew on me. I ventured out to eat my all time favourite breakfast offered here in Ecuador- encebollado. It was an early Monday morning, and the town was absolutely empty. The lack of people, particularty travelers, on the streets resulted in pleasant peacefulness, something that one can start to long for when traveling South America. There was something oddly charming about this town that I just started to notice. I later wandered around with my camera, taking pictures of the street art and just observing the surroundings. The locals were starting with their day, kids were quietly playing, the dogs were still sleeping. You could hear the waves crashing in the distance. Canoa had a special ambience after all.