Quito: 2-3 June

Quito, like much of Ecuador, surprised me. I was expecting a sprawling city perched on a high dusty plateau. I thought it would be full of bleak concrete architecture. Well, it was thin on the oxygen (at 2800m) and there was the ubiquitous cinder-block sprawl. But it was also charming.

At its heart is the old colonial city built by the Spanish after their arrival in 1533. There are grand squares where palazos are on proud display, long straight cobbled roads leading visitors past the intricate masonry of yet another church. The churches and monasteries of the Franciscans, Jesuits and Dominicans dominate the old town. Their former wealth and power are on display at every turn. I was stunned by the Jesuit church with its odd mix of ostentatious gold leaf and semi-cultish Moorish carvings. The art inside these churches was so graphic - Christ on the cross with blood squirting out of his side, or a scene of the Last Judgement full of devils, fire, and evil - that it made me draw breath.

The imagery and grand settings transported me momentarily to the time of the conquistadors. I wondered what life was like for those early settlers. But I was also reminded how hard life was for the colonised. The Indians were forced to abandon their indigenous beliefs and worship the Church's white patron saints. Indian religious customs were outlawed and traditional feast days aligned to the Papal calendar. Large servings of gore in art, and fire and brimstone preaching, instilled a sense of fear in the new converts. Why? I wondered. "Because it's what the Indian's understand" one of the guides told me. But I thought it looked more like a form of psychological warfare designed to snuff out any thoughts of rebellion, rather than an attempt to educate the new subjects.