The first thing that greets me as I step off the plane at Quito airport is a sign that warns "Altitude 2808m", before adding a tad superfluously, "Walk slowly".
There's not a whole lot of choice up here; perched high on an Andean plateau, the lean atmosphere of Ecuador's capital can leave visitors feeling as though they've just jogged up a few flights of stairs.
I arrive in darkness and am whisked the surprisingly short distance from the airport to my downtown hotel. In the morning, I wake to what sounds like 400 dogs tumbling into the pit of hell somewhere outside my window but, as I open the curtains, all I see is pink light creeping down the flanks of the volcano that looms over the city, disappearing and reappearing at the whim of the low cloud.
I do eventually spot a dog at breakfast later: it's a spry little west highland white terrier gazing over its master's shoulder at a newspaper, glancing up now and then at the soccer on the television.
My lungs feel as if they're beginning to fill at last. It's time to explore, and I wander through parks and thronging streets, gravitating towards the herds of open-mouthed gargoyles of the church of La Basilica and the splendour of the old town beyond.
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