Moisés Caicedo’s Ecuador roots: ‘Rocks were our goalposts’

The road from Quito to Santo Domingo is a 100-mile long, 2,200-metre descent across the western foothills of the Andes. Epic, sprawling vistas are married with nerve-wracking, precipitous, hair-pin bends. Trucks hurtle down steep inclines, twisting and turning through the clouds. Landslides frequently render the route impassable.

Every village it passes through — daubed in vivid pinks, oranges and reds — is an assault on the senses. Steam rises from huge pots in bamboo-hut roadside cafes. Street-sellers slalom between cars, hawking bags of mango, giant sheets of pork crackling, wafer cones filled with whipped cream and fruit, or the teeth-crunching candy Melcocha.

As the descent continues, the humidity rises. Lush, tropical forest clings to vertiginous slopes. Finally, as the road plateaus, the damp, grey