Three Perfect Days: Quito
Quito is a breathtaking city—but not in the usual sense. Sure, the Ecuadorian capital is gilded and gorgeous, a painstakingly preserved jewel box of Baroque excess that was named one of the first UNESCO World Heritage Sites in 1978. But, at 9,350 feet above sea level, the world's second-highest capital (after La Paz, Bolivia) is also a place that literally takes your breath away. Not helping matters are the gasp-inducing natural surroundings that cluster on either side of the Equator: the alpine páramo grasslands, the snowcapped volcanoes, the misty cloud forests, the swarms of buzzing hummingbirds. So inhale deeply, and dig in.
A chagra cowboy in the shadow of the volcano Cotopaxi at Tierra del Volcan
Day 1:
Exploring gold-dipped churches and trying on misnamed hats
Tucked as they are into a volcanic valley, the cobblestone streets of Quito rise and fall like stock charts. Having caffeinated with Ecuador-grown coffee at Café Galletti—an industrial-chic hipster haunt inside a former Art Nouveau theater—I tramp up a steep avenue to the Basílica del Voto Nacional for one of the city's best views. If you squint, you might think you're looking at a buttressed behemoth from France or Germany. But look closer at those gargoyles flanking the facade. They're marine iguanas, crocodiles, howler monkeys, armadillos, pumas, tortoises…
Construction began in 1892, but the church is still technically unfinished; I can't help but feel this menagerie trapped in stone is God's way of saying, “Why go on an expensive cruise to the Galápagos when you can donate to the building fund instead?" But be warned: According to local legend, the world will end when the church is finally completed.
The clock towers of the Basílica del Voto Nacional
From inside the church tower I can see the whole historic center, clear to El Panecillo (“bread roll") hill and its 135-foot-tall Virgin of Quito, an aluminum-winged Madonna meant to represent the biblical Woman of the Apocalypse. Despite these doom-and-gloom bookends, the city between is full of life, perhaps nowhere more than at the Mercado Central. A sleek 1950s Art Deco building with abundant sunlight, the market sticks out amid its Baroque-heavy surroundings.
Inside, as elderly quiteña women dance to a folk band, I meet Miguel Xavier Monar, an Ecuadorian chef who has been spreading the gospel of his native cuisine at restaurants in Madrid and Shanghai. It's early, but we grab plastic cups of fortifying canelazo, a hot and dangerously delicious concoction of aguardiente (sugar cane liquor), cinnamon, and naranjilla (a tart fruit related to the tomato). “This drink," says Monar, “is the party of Quito."
"Tucked as they are into a volcanic valley, the cobblestone streets of Quito rise and fall like stock charts."
While alta cocina is on the rise in cities like Lima and Bogotá, Monar says people in Quito are resistant to changing tastes. “We've been eating the same foods for maybe 500 years," he quips. “The problem of Ecuadorian gastronomy is that we are a very, very, very traditional country. Ecuadorians don't like new tastes. If a recipe has oregano and I put in parsley, people say, 'This is not Ecuadorian food.'"
We wander, chatting with vendors and scooping up dishes that may have been eaten in these parts back when Francisco Pizarro and his conquistador pals lived down the block: llapingachos, cheese-stuffed potato cakes; offal-filled menudo soup; and fritada, fried pork belly with mote (hominy). Monar tells me about la yapa, an Andean practice that comes from the Quechua word for “a little extra." So, for instance, when we order our fritada, it comes with la yapa: a plastic baggie full of extra pork.
At a rickety table, we top our fritada with little spoonfuls from a bowl of ají, a hot sauce as ubiquitous as salt and pepper. “If you don't have ají on the table, it's a disaster," says Monar. “You'll have a civil war." We wash everything down with a fresh-pressed juice that contains a kitchen sink assortment of alfalfa, naranjilla, malt beer, quail eggs, raspberries, and coconut—though this juice-mad city's most fashionable option, according to Monar, is energizing, antioxidant-rich guanabana. (The juice, of course, comes with a Dixie cup–size yapa.)
The gilded interior of La Compañía de Jesús church
We stroll past Lincoln Log piles of cow femurs and creamy mounds of mapahuira, pork lard studded with crisp bits from the bottom of the roasting pan. Next up are heaps of what Monar calls “ancestral magic herbs," many grown in the Amazon, that the vendor can prescribe based on your needs. “If you need a husband, if you hate your boyfriend, if you're opening a new business, if you have a bad stomach, if you have a pain in your head," he rattles off. “Maybe it's not real, but all of the Ecuadorians believe it."
Calle La Ronda
I say goodbye to Monar and duck into the green-domed La Compañía de Jesús church, a Baroque-Moorish masterpiece slathered with more than 100 pounds of gold leaf. For Baroque-inspired ornamentation on a smaller scale, I head to the handicrafts workshops on curving Calle La Ronda. In one crowded nook, José Luis Jiménez is carving bargueños, which look like chests of drawers reimagined by M.C. Escher. Dating back to the colonial era, these boxes contain hidden doors inside hidden doors inside hidden doors; an unassuming, shoebox-size piece of furniture can hide dozens of compartments. Next, I grab a cone of canelazo ice cream—I want to sneak this drink into every meal now—at the sunny Dulce Placer Heladería, which serves locally inspired flavors, such as morocho (drinkable corn pudding) and Zhumir Pink (essentially a watermelon wine cooler that's popular among Ecuadorian teens).
"I duck into La Compañía de Jesús church, which is slathered with more than 100 pounds of gold leaf."
I continue to Humacatama Sombrería, where artisan Luis López shows me how to craft Ecuador's most famous—and misunderstood—export: the misnamed Panama (or toquilla) hat. Teddy Roosevelt was photographed wearing one of these wide-brimmed straw hats while visiting the canal construction site, which boosted their popularity, but make no mistake: These hats are an Ecuadorian creation, with a spot on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List to show for it.
Humacatama Sombrería hatmaker Luis López
López strips the fibers of a jipijapa palm frond with his fingernails. The thinner the strands and tighter the weave, the finer the hat. “You don't get any light through the hat," he says in Spanish, holding one of his creations up to the window. “It takes a year to make the finest hats. But we need to start calling them Ecuador hats!" The highest-quality ones, he tells me, can go for $25,000. It should be noted that these popular souvenirs aren't often seen around town. The preferred head covering, especially among the indigenous women selling fruit and textiles on street corners, are felt fedoras, often decorated with a jaunty plume.
Quito's historic center seems delightfully trapped in time, but there's a vibrant modern city beyond the cobblestones. I hop a cab to Quitu Identidad Culinaria, where chef Juan Sebastián Pérez's tasting menu takes me to the far reaches of this biodiverse country: from the Amazon, paiche, a man-size, air-breathing fish, served with hearts of palm and passion-fruit juice; from the coast, cassava with shrimp and sweet crab; from the Andes—or the petting zoo?—a 72-hour sous-vide llama, an indigenous meat source that's not especially common here in the capital. (For the record, it's very lean and lamb-like.) My three dessert courses include, among other flavors, 72-hour cold brew coffee, a 70 percent chocolate terrine, and both a meringue and a carbonated drink made from guayusa, the highly caffeinated leaf of an Amazonian holly tree…
Which means that, despite the long day, I have plenty of energy for a nightcap on the roof of the Hotel Carlota, a sustainably designed property in a 1905 mansion that was the former HQ of Ecuador's conservative party. After a couple of cocktails, however, I don't even need to count llamas before nodding off.
The staircase at the Hotel Carlota
Day 2:
Straddling the Earth, stalking hummingbirds, and sipping cervezas
Ecuador's star attraction is right there in the name. This is the middle of the world, and Quito practically shouts its location from the rooftops. My goal for the morning is the nation's most obligatory tourist stop: the photo op at the Equator, about 15 miles north of the Old Town, where every grinning backpacker must, by law, bestride the narrow yellow line like a selfie-ing Colossus. I've hired a driver for the day, Jairo Lobo, who whisks us out of town, past miles of pastel houses tumbling Tetris-like down hillsides, to the roadside restaurant Rincón Quevedeño #2, where we have tigrillo, a coastal breakfast of mashed green plantains with stewed pork, queso blanco, and a fried egg, along with frothy blackberry juice.
Fully carbo-loaded, I pay the $2 entry fee to the Mitad del Mundo monument, a 98-foot-tall obelisk topped with a globe that looks a bit like the Daily Planet building. The monument was built in 1982 to commemorate an 18th-century French mission to find the true Equator, but it hides a dirty little secret: The honest-to-goodness 0 degrees latitude is 787.4 feet away.
The Mitad del Mundo monument near the Equator
Down the road sits the scrappy Intiñan Solar Museum. I join a tour that's already in progress, as the guide shows off a case holding a 180-year-old shrunken witch doctor's head that looks like a ham hock in a wig. “They stopped the practice around the 1980s and '90s, because it was turning into a mafia," he says. “They used to sell the heads for $80,000. If it was a shaman, you could pay even more." As we shuffle on to the next exhibit, a Chinese priest in a robe and white collar next to me whispers, with concern in his voice, “But why has it gotten so small?"
The museum's centerpiece is, naturally, the centerpiece of the world. Here, on the magnetic Equator, which was calculated by army GPS 17 years ago, reality operates slightly differently. To prove it, the museum has set up a series of experiments that feel like a school science fair but still earn their oohs and aahs. Water pours straight down a drain without spinning! I can't heel-toe walk along the line with my eyes closed without tipping over! I can balance a raw egg on the head of a nail! Whether these demonstrations are real or show—the mythbusting Snopes.com has some strong opinions on the matter—I leave with a smile and a handwritten egg-balancing certificate.
Lunch is 15 minutes away, at Hotel El Cráter, a pumice stone building perched on the lip of the Pululahua volcanic crater, one of only two populated calderas on the planet. I grab a seat by the window and watch fluffy clouds barrel like freight trains through the valley below. We're (very) close to the Equator, but that doesn't mean it feels like the tropics. High up here in the Andes, the food skews hearty. I order locro de papa, an achiote-dyed potato soup served with shredded cheese, hunks of buttery avocado, and maíz tostada—corn kernels that crunch like the ones you find at the bottom of a bag of microwavable popcorn.
"Here, on the magnetic Equator, reality operates slightly differently. I leave with a handwritten egg-balancing certificate."
Past Hotel El Cráter, the road shifts; mist envelops the shoulders as we descend into the Mindo Cloudforest, a high-altitude jungle that attracts whitewater rafters and zipliners. We pull into the Alambi Reserve, a sanctuary for more than a dozen hummingbird species. I grab a seat on the porch and look out on a yard lined with feeders and flowers that—there's only one word for it—swarms with birds. They come in droves, buzzing, dive-bombing, darting, slurping sugar water. I practice my wildcat-stalking skills as I slink like a moving statue to within inches of the feeders to snap photos. Nectar-drunk, the birds barely react.
A hummingbird at the Alambi Reserve
Down a hill, I meet Brian Krohnke, an American expat who runs Cloud Coffees. Here, on five acres of the reserve, he's growing seedlings that will help to reforest this area. “We're one of the highest growers in the world," he says, as he sorts beans drying in the sun. “These come from 1,800 meters." I buy a bag of his shade-grown coffee from a makeshift wooden structure. Krohnke tells me to expect citrus, lilac, and vanilla notes, but the biggest selling point for me is the label: a dreamy-eyed sloth holding a mug of joe.
A pacific oyster with Amazonian jelly at Urko Cocina Local
I get back into town in time for dinner at Urko Cocina Local, in the buzzing La Floresta district. I order a frozen canelazo (of course) and then dig into a tasting menu that sees chef Daniel Maldonado remixing Andean staples. An octopus ceviche dotted with roasted peanuts is followed by lamb croquettes in a naranjilla beer sauce and spoon-tender suckling pig with cheese foam. I finish my meal with an ode to the nation's beloved corn, a deconstructed dessert of corn mousse, corn with cheese, and purple corn biscuits.
Back in the historic center, I seek out a different staple grain at Santa Rosa Cerveza Artesanal, one of a growing roster of craft breweries in the city. I order a peach sour beer and grab a seat in the Scandi-chic taproom, by a window that looks out on the illuminated Baroque church of St. Augustine. I'm confident that the patron saint of brewers would have enjoyed this next chapter in Quito's development.
The modern taproom at Santa Rosa Cerveza Artesanal
Day 3:
Scaling a volcano and playing cowboy for a day
“You feel OK?" I'm in the TelefériQo, a glass gondola that's rapidly ascending the side of the Pichincha volcano. It's only natural that my tour guide for the day, Gaby Cifuentes, is checking on me. Within 18 minutes we'll be gliding up, over eucalyptus forests and cattle pastures, to a preposterous 12,943 feet. This is prime altitude sickness territory, but I assure her that, save for a few ear pops and some slightly shallow breathing, I will survive.
Colorful houses built into the hillsides of Quito's volcanic valley
We hop out at the summit, where we can see our breath in the cold morning air. From here, we hike, slowly, up a scruffy hillside to 13,287 feet, where we have a clear view of the city's contained sprawl, which snakes for 25 miles through the volcanic valley below. We keep our pace glacial to fight, you know, passing out, as more adventurous types surround us on all sides: above, hikers follow a trail that tops out at 15,406 feet, while below us hang gliders catch the wind.
“We feel OK now, but we have to remember to drink water," says Cifuentes. At the summit café, next to a seemingly empty oxygen bar where you can inhale flavored air, we rehydrate with coca tea and munch on melcochas, a sugarcane candy that's said to help with altitude sickness.
"We drive out of town, past miles of pastel houses tumbling Tetris-like down hillsides."
Now that we've gotten our sea legs—sky legs?—Cifuentes wants to show me an even more impressive landscape. We head south on the Pan-American Highway, which stretches nearly uninterrupted for 19,000 miles from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. This part, which is perfumed by Tasmanian blue gum eucalyptus trees and skirts seven mountains, is called the Avenue of the Volcanoes. As we continue along, Cifuentes and my trusty driver, Lobo, tell me about their side gigs (her family has been making guitar strings since 1906; he works for a line of infused spirits named, appropriately, Los Volcanes). We pass fields of black-and-white Holsteins. “The beef from here is tough," says Cifuentes. “It's the Andes, so our cows have to be athletic."
We turn off the highway and onto an exceedingly bumpy road—staying upright in the back seat is an intense core workout—which opens up into an alpine tundra grassland, or páramo, where we find the thatch-roofed Hacienda el Porvenir, on the sprawling ranch and eco-resort operated by the tour company Tierra del Volcán. Inside, we warm up with empanadas and mugs of—what else?—canelazos in front of the fireplace. I'm here to hit the trails on horseback. But before I do, I refuel in the hacienda dining room with owner Jorge Pérez.
A mug of canelazo at Hacienda el Porvenir
“This hacienda was bought by my great-great-grandmother," says Pérez. “Porvenir translates to 'what's to come.'" This plot was first settled in the 17th century by Jesuits who raised sheep and llamas. When indigenous people started stealing their livestock, they brought in sleek black fighting bulls from Spain to ward off intruders. “They taught their most trusted employees to ride horses to handle the bulls," says Pérez. Thus, the high-Andean cowboy, or chagra, was born. “They became the first indigenous peoples to be allowed to ride horses in all of the colonies. Being a chagra became a status symbol."
After a lunch of Andean ceviche (marinated lupini beans and hearts of palm) and beef tenderloin with Andean huckleberry sauce and ishpingo (a dried flower that tastes like cinnamon), I'm ready to hit the trails. Laura, a volunteer who moved here from Seattle to escape American politics, looks me over as I head toward the paddock. “We have to get you to look like a chagra," she says. I step into a pair of chaps and slip on a wool poncho that's as heavy as one of those lead vests at the dentist. In place of a cowboy hat, I'm fitted (thankfully) with a helmet.
The thatch-roofed Hacienda el Porvenir
“What's his name?" I ask, stepping up to a criollo horse, a breed known for being compact but strong.
“Piquero," says my guide.
“What's that mean?"
“Booby."
“Booby?"
“Not that kind of booby." (Oh right, I think: the blue-footed kind.)
We trot out into the resort's nearly 2,500 acres of grassland in the shadow of Cotopaxi, a snowcapped active volcano.
As we pass through fields of llamas and fighting bulls, I look down to make sure my striped poncho doesn't have any bright red to antagonize them. Safe. My eyes are peeled for ultra-rare condors, but I keep getting tricked by carunculated caracaras, black birds of prey that, while beautiful, don't rank as high on my birdwatching bucket list. Piquero, unimpressed and docile, keeps stopping to munch the grass, the same scruffy brush that makes up the hacienda roof.
A llama at the Tierra del Volcán resort
Horseback riding sounds like a mosey in the park, but it's surprisingly tiring. (My poor thighs!) Back in Quito by sundown, I've more than earned my dinner at the impossibly lavish La Belle Epoque. This French-Ecuadorian restaurant, dripping with red velvet curtains and towering candelabras, sits on the second floor of the Hotel Plaza Grande, which occupies Pizarro's old digs on the Plaza de la Independencia. While the setting is Continental, the menu offers perfect takes on Andean classics. I order a sangria-like rosero, made with orange-blossom water, pineapple, lemongrass, strawberries, and hominy that's been sliced with a razor blade, Goodfellas-style. After a creamy locro de papa and roast pork with peanut salsa, the lights suddenly go out, and music starts blasting through the dining room.
From the kitchen emerges a cucurucho, a purple-robed figure in the cone-shaped hood that gives him his name (an outfit that would certainly not fly in America) . These penitent sinners usually walk through Quito's Old Town during Holy Week, carrying cripplingly heavy crosses, some whipping their own backs, some bleeding from the barbed wire they've wrapped around their bare chests. This cucurucho, however, is carrying a copper pan, foggy with dry ice, that holds three little scoops of ice cream: blackberry, guanabana, and fig and cheese. Should we repent for the sin of gluttony?
It feels like an oddly blasphemous interlude for a place with this much reverence for history and tradition and faith. But in a city with nearly a half millennium of history under its belt, it's not uncommon to see the old butt up against the new, the sacred against the profane, the Baroque against the bargain basement. I pull out my phone to try to capture the scene, but the lighting is all wrong and the music doesn't translate. This, I realize, is the kind of off-kilter experience you just have to sit back and enjoy, in a place where even the dessert course comes with a little something extra—la yapa.
A chagra cowboy in the shadow of the volcano Cotopaxi at Tierra del Volcan
Day 1:
Exploring gold-dipped churches and trying on misnamed hats
Tucked as they are into a volcanic valley, the cobblestone streets of Quito rise and fall like stock charts. Having caffeinated with Ecuador-grown coffee at Café Galletti—an industrial-chic hipster haunt inside a former Art Nouveau theater—I tramp up a steep avenue to the Basílica del Voto Nacional for one of the city's best views. If you squint, you might think you're looking at a buttressed behemoth from France or Germany. But look closer at those gargoyles flanking the facade. They're marine iguanas, crocodiles, howler monkeys, armadillos, pumas, tortoises…
Construction began in 1892, but the church is still technically unfinished; I can't help but feel this menagerie trapped in stone is God's way of saying, “Why go on an expensive cruise to the Galápagos when you can donate to the building fund instead?" But be warned: According to local legend, the world will end when the church is finally completed.
The clock towers of the Basílica del Voto Nacional
From inside the church tower I can see the whole historic center, clear to El Panecillo (“bread roll") hill and its 135-foot-tall Virgin of Quito, an aluminum-winged Madonna meant to represent the biblical Woman of the Apocalypse. Despite these doom-and-gloom bookends, the city between is full of life, perhaps nowhere more than at the Mercado Central. A sleek 1950s Art Deco building with abundant sunlight, the market sticks out amid its Baroque-heavy surroundings.
Inside, as elderly quiteña women dance to a folk band, I meet Miguel Xavier Monar, an Ecuadorian chef who has been spreading the gospel of his native cuisine at restaurants in Madrid and Shanghai. It's early, but we grab plastic cups of fortifying canelazo, a hot and dangerously delicious concoction of aguardiente (sugar cane liquor), cinnamon, and naranjilla (a tart fruit related to the tomato). “This drink," says Monar, “is the party of Quito."
"Tucked as they are into a volcanic valley, the cobblestone streets of Quito rise and fall like stock charts."
While alta cocina is on the rise in cities like Lima and Bogotá, Monar says people in Quito are resistant to changing tastes. “We've been eating the same foods for maybe 500 years," he quips. “The problem of Ecuadorian gastronomy is that we are a very, very, very traditional country. Ecuadorians don't like new tastes. If a recipe has oregano and I put in parsley, people say, 'This is not Ecuadorian food.'"
We wander, chatting with vendors and scooping up dishes that may have been eaten in these parts back when Francisco Pizarro and his conquistador pals lived down the block: llapingachos, cheese-stuffed potato cakes; offal-filled menudo soup; and fritada, fried pork belly with mote (hominy). Monar tells me about la yapa, an Andean practice that comes from the Quechua word for “a little extra." So, for instance, when we order our fritada, it comes with la yapa: a plastic baggie full of extra pork.
At a rickety table, we top our fritada with little spoonfuls from a bowl of ají, a hot sauce as ubiquitous as salt and pepper. “If you don't have ají on the table, it's a disaster," says Monar. “You'll have a civil war." We wash everything down with a fresh-pressed juice that contains a kitchen sink assortment of alfalfa, naranjilla, malt beer, quail eggs, raspberries, and coconut—though this juice-mad city's most fashionable option, according to Monar, is energizing, antioxidant-rich guanabana. (The juice, of course, comes with a Dixie cup–size yapa.)
The gilded interior of La Compañía de Jesús church
We stroll past Lincoln Log piles of cow femurs and creamy mounds of mapahuira, pork lard studded with crisp bits from the bottom of the roasting pan. Next up are heaps of what Monar calls “ancestral magic herbs," many grown in the Amazon, that the vendor can prescribe based on your needs. “If you need a husband, if you hate your boyfriend, if you're opening a new business, if you have a bad stomach, if you have a pain in your head," he rattles off. “Maybe it's not real, but all of the Ecuadorians believe it."
Calle La Ronda
I say goodbye to Monar and duck into the green-domed La Compañía de Jesús church, a Baroque-Moorish masterpiece slathered with more than 100 pounds of gold leaf. For Baroque-inspired ornamentation on a smaller scale, I head to the handicrafts workshops on curving Calle La Ronda. In one crowded nook, José Luis Jiménez is carving bargueños, which look like chests of drawers reimagined by M.C. Escher. Dating back to the colonial era, these boxes contain hidden doors inside hidden doors inside hidden doors; an unassuming, shoebox-size piece of furniture can hide dozens of compartments. Next, I grab a cone of canelazo ice cream—I want to sneak this drink into every meal now—at the sunny Dulce Placer Heladería, which serves locally inspired flavors, such as morocho (drinkable corn pudding) and Zhumir Pink (essentially a watermelon wine cooler that's popular among Ecuadorian teens).
"I duck into La Compañía de Jesús church, which is slathered with more than 100 pounds of gold leaf."
I continue to Humacatama Sombrería, where artisan Luis López shows me how to craft Ecuador's most famous—and misunderstood—export: the misnamed Panama (or toquilla) hat. Teddy Roosevelt was photographed wearing one of these wide-brimmed straw hats while visiting the canal construction site, which boosted their popularity, but make no mistake: These hats are an Ecuadorian creation, with a spot on the UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage List to show for it.
Humacatama Sombrería hatmaker Luis López
López strips the fibers of a jipijapa palm frond with his fingernails. The thinner the strands and tighter the weave, the finer the hat. “You don't get any light through the hat," he says in Spanish, holding one of his creations up to the window. “It takes a year to make the finest hats. But we need to start calling them Ecuador hats!" The highest-quality ones, he tells me, can go for $25,000. It should be noted that these popular souvenirs aren't often seen around town. The preferred head covering, especially among the indigenous women selling fruit and textiles on street corners, are felt fedoras, often decorated with a jaunty plume.
Quito's historic center seems delightfully trapped in time, but there's a vibrant modern city beyond the cobblestones. I hop a cab to Quitu Identidad Culinaria, where chef Juan Sebastián Pérez's tasting menu takes me to the far reaches of this biodiverse country: from the Amazon, paiche, a man-size, air-breathing fish, served with hearts of palm and passion-fruit juice; from the coast, cassava with shrimp and sweet crab; from the Andes—or the petting zoo?—a 72-hour sous-vide llama, an indigenous meat source that's not especially common here in the capital. (For the record, it's very lean and lamb-like.) My three dessert courses include, among other flavors, 72-hour cold brew coffee, a 70 percent chocolate terrine, and both a meringue and a carbonated drink made from guayusa, the highly caffeinated leaf of an Amazonian holly tree…
Which means that, despite the long day, I have plenty of energy for a nightcap on the roof of the Hotel Carlota, a sustainably designed property in a 1905 mansion that was the former HQ of Ecuador's conservative party. After a couple of cocktails, however, I don't even need to count llamas before nodding off.
The staircase at the Hotel Carlota
Day 2:
Straddling the Earth, stalking hummingbirds, and sipping cervezas
Ecuador's star attraction is right there in the name. This is the middle of the world, and Quito practically shouts its location from the rooftops. My goal for the morning is the nation's most obligatory tourist stop: the photo op at the Equator, about 15 miles north of the Old Town, where every grinning backpacker must, by law, bestride the narrow yellow line like a selfie-ing Colossus. I've hired a driver for the day, Jairo Lobo, who whisks us out of town, past miles of pastel houses tumbling Tetris-like down hillsides, to the roadside restaurant Rincón Quevedeño #2, where we have tigrillo, a coastal breakfast of mashed green plantains with stewed pork, queso blanco, and a fried egg, along with frothy blackberry juice.
Fully carbo-loaded, I pay the $2 entry fee to the Mitad del Mundo monument, a 98-foot-tall obelisk topped with a globe that looks a bit like the Daily Planet building. The monument was built in 1982 to commemorate an 18th-century French mission to find the true Equator, but it hides a dirty little secret: The honest-to-goodness 0 degrees latitude is 787.4 feet away.
The Mitad del Mundo monument near the Equator
Down the road sits the scrappy Intiñan Solar Museum. I join a tour that's already in progress, as the guide shows off a case holding a 180-year-old shrunken witch doctor's head that looks like a ham hock in a wig. “They stopped the practice around the 1980s and '90s, because it was turning into a mafia," he says. “They used to sell the heads for $80,000. If it was a shaman, you could pay even more." As we shuffle on to the next exhibit, a Chinese priest in a robe and white collar next to me whispers, with concern in his voice, “But why has it gotten so small?"
The museum's centerpiece is, naturally, the centerpiece of the world. Here, on the magnetic Equator, which was calculated by army GPS 17 years ago, reality operates slightly differently. To prove it, the museum has set up a series of experiments that feel like a school science fair but still earn their oohs and aahs. Water pours straight down a drain without spinning! I can't heel-toe walk along the line with my eyes closed without tipping over! I can balance a raw egg on the head of a nail! Whether these demonstrations are real or show—the mythbusting Snopes.com has some strong opinions on the matter—I leave with a smile and a handwritten egg-balancing certificate.
Lunch is 15 minutes away, at Hotel El Cráter, a pumice stone building perched on the lip of the Pululahua volcanic crater, one of only two populated calderas on the planet. I grab a seat by the window and watch fluffy clouds barrel like freight trains through the valley below. We're (very) close to the Equator, but that doesn't mean it feels like the tropics. High up here in the Andes, the food skews hearty. I order locro de papa, an achiote-dyed potato soup served with shredded cheese, hunks of buttery avocado, and maíz tostada—corn kernels that crunch like the ones you find at the bottom of a bag of microwavable popcorn.
"Here, on the magnetic Equator, reality operates slightly differently. I leave with a handwritten egg-balancing certificate."
Past Hotel El Cráter, the road shifts; mist envelops the shoulders as we descend into the Mindo Cloudforest, a high-altitude jungle that attracts whitewater rafters and zipliners. We pull into the Alambi Reserve, a sanctuary for more than a dozen hummingbird species. I grab a seat on the porch and look out on a yard lined with feeders and flowers that—there's only one word for it—swarms with birds. They come in droves, buzzing, dive-bombing, darting, slurping sugar water. I practice my wildcat-stalking skills as I slink like a moving statue to within inches of the feeders to snap photos. Nectar-drunk, the birds barely react.
A hummingbird at the Alambi Reserve
Down a hill, I meet Brian Krohnke, an American expat who runs Cloud Coffees. Here, on five acres of the reserve, he's growing seedlings that will help to reforest this area. “We're one of the highest growers in the world," he says, as he sorts beans drying in the sun. “These come from 1,800 meters." I buy a bag of his shade-grown coffee from a makeshift wooden structure. Krohnke tells me to expect citrus, lilac, and vanilla notes, but the biggest selling point for me is the label: a dreamy-eyed sloth holding a mug of joe.
A pacific oyster with Amazonian jelly at Urko Cocina Local
I get back into town in time for dinner at Urko Cocina Local, in the buzzing La Floresta district. I order a frozen canelazo (of course) and then dig into a tasting menu that sees chef Daniel Maldonado remixing Andean staples. An octopus ceviche dotted with roasted peanuts is followed by lamb croquettes in a naranjilla beer sauce and spoon-tender suckling pig with cheese foam. I finish my meal with an ode to the nation's beloved corn, a deconstructed dessert of corn mousse, corn with cheese, and purple corn biscuits.
Back in the historic center, I seek out a different staple grain at Santa Rosa Cerveza Artesanal, one of a growing roster of craft breweries in the city. I order a peach sour beer and grab a seat in the Scandi-chic taproom, by a window that looks out on the illuminated Baroque church of St. Augustine. I'm confident that the patron saint of brewers would have enjoyed this next chapter in Quito's development.
The modern taproom at Santa Rosa Cerveza Artesanal
Day 3:
Scaling a volcano and playing cowboy for a day
“You feel OK?" I'm in the TelefériQo, a glass gondola that's rapidly ascending the side of the Pichincha volcano. It's only natural that my tour guide for the day, Gaby Cifuentes, is checking on me. Within 18 minutes we'll be gliding up, over eucalyptus forests and cattle pastures, to a preposterous 12,943 feet. This is prime altitude sickness territory, but I assure her that, save for a few ear pops and some slightly shallow breathing, I will survive.
Colorful houses built into the hillsides of Quito's volcanic valley
We hop out at the summit, where we can see our breath in the cold morning air. From here, we hike, slowly, up a scruffy hillside to 13,287 feet, where we have a clear view of the city's contained sprawl, which snakes for 25 miles through the volcanic valley below. We keep our pace glacial to fight, you know, passing out, as more adventurous types surround us on all sides: above, hikers follow a trail that tops out at 15,406 feet, while below us hang gliders catch the wind.
“We feel OK now, but we have to remember to drink water," says Cifuentes. At the summit café, next to a seemingly empty oxygen bar where you can inhale flavored air, we rehydrate with coca tea and munch on melcochas, a sugarcane candy that's said to help with altitude sickness.
"We drive out of town, past miles of pastel houses tumbling Tetris-like down hillsides."
Now that we've gotten our sea legs—sky legs?—Cifuentes wants to show me an even more impressive landscape. We head south on the Pan-American Highway, which stretches nearly uninterrupted for 19,000 miles from Alaska to Tierra del Fuego. This part, which is perfumed by Tasmanian blue gum eucalyptus trees and skirts seven mountains, is called the Avenue of the Volcanoes. As we continue along, Cifuentes and my trusty driver, Lobo, tell me about their side gigs (her family has been making guitar strings since 1906; he works for a line of infused spirits named, appropriately, Los Volcanes). We pass fields of black-and-white Holsteins. “The beef from here is tough," says Cifuentes. “It's the Andes, so our cows have to be athletic."
We turn off the highway and onto an exceedingly bumpy road—staying upright in the back seat is an intense core workout—which opens up into an alpine tundra grassland, or páramo, where we find the thatch-roofed Hacienda el Porvenir, on the sprawling ranch and eco-resort operated by the tour company Tierra del Volcán. Inside, we warm up with empanadas and mugs of—what else?—canelazos in front of the fireplace. I'm here to hit the trails on horseback. But before I do, I refuel in the hacienda dining room with owner Jorge Pérez.
A mug of canelazo at Hacienda el Porvenir
“This hacienda was bought by my great-great-grandmother," says Pérez. “Porvenir translates to 'what's to come.'" This plot was first settled in the 17th century by Jesuits who raised sheep and llamas. When indigenous people started stealing their livestock, they brought in sleek black fighting bulls from Spain to ward off intruders. “They taught their most trusted employees to ride horses to handle the bulls," says Pérez. Thus, the high-Andean cowboy, or chagra, was born. “They became the first indigenous peoples to be allowed to ride horses in all of the colonies. Being a chagra became a status symbol."
After a lunch of Andean ceviche (marinated lupini beans and hearts of palm) and beef tenderloin with Andean huckleberry sauce and ishpingo (a dried flower that tastes like cinnamon), I'm ready to hit the trails. Laura, a volunteer who moved here from Seattle to escape American politics, looks me over as I head toward the paddock. “We have to get you to look like a chagra," she says. I step into a pair of chaps and slip on a wool poncho that's as heavy as one of those lead vests at the dentist. In place of a cowboy hat, I'm fitted (thankfully) with a helmet.
The thatch-roofed Hacienda el Porvenir
“What's his name?" I ask, stepping up to a criollo horse, a breed known for being compact but strong.
“Piquero," says my guide.
“What's that mean?"
“Booby."
“Booby?"
“Not that kind of booby." (Oh right, I think: the blue-footed kind.)
We trot out into the resort's nearly 2,500 acres of grassland in the shadow of Cotopaxi, a snowcapped active volcano.
As we pass through fields of llamas and fighting bulls, I look down to make sure my striped poncho doesn't have any bright red to antagonize them. Safe. My eyes are peeled for ultra-rare condors, but I keep getting tricked by carunculated caracaras, black birds of prey that, while beautiful, don't rank as high on my birdwatching bucket list. Piquero, unimpressed and docile, keeps stopping to munch the grass, the same scruffy brush that makes up the hacienda roof.
A llama at the Tierra del Volcán resort
Horseback riding sounds like a mosey in the park, but it's surprisingly tiring. (My poor thighs!) Back in Quito by sundown, I've more than earned my dinner at the impossibly lavish La Belle Epoque. This French-Ecuadorian restaurant, dripping with red velvet curtains and towering candelabras, sits on the second floor of the Hotel Plaza Grande, which occupies Pizarro's old digs on the Plaza de la Independencia. While the setting is Continental, the menu offers perfect takes on Andean classics. I order a sangria-like rosero, made with orange-blossom water, pineapple, lemongrass, strawberries, and hominy that's been sliced with a razor blade, Goodfellas-style. After a creamy locro de papa and roast pork with peanut salsa, the lights suddenly go out, and music starts blasting through the dining room.
From the kitchen emerges a cucurucho, a purple-robed figure in the cone-shaped hood that gives him his name (an outfit that would certainly not fly in America) . These penitent sinners usually walk through Quito's Old Town during Holy Week, carrying cripplingly heavy crosses, some whipping their own backs, some bleeding from the barbed wire they've wrapped around their bare chests. This cucurucho, however, is carrying a copper pan, foggy with dry ice, that holds three little scoops of ice cream: blackberry, guanabana, and fig and cheese. Should we repent for the sin of gluttony?
It feels like an oddly blasphemous interlude for a place with this much reverence for history and tradition and faith. But in a city with nearly a half millennium of history under its belt, it's not uncommon to see the old butt up against the new, the sacred against the profane, the Baroque against the bargain basement. I pull out my phone to try to capture the scene, but the lighting is all wrong and the music doesn't translate. This, I realize, is the kind of off-kilter experience you just have to sit back and enjoy, in a place where even the dessert course comes with a little something extra—la yapa.

When the pandemic began, United Cargo knew it would be critical to utilize its fleet, network and industry-leading pharmaceutical handling processes to transport a COVID-19 vaccine when the time came.
Connecting vaccines to the world: United responds to mass distribution effort
On November 27, United Airlines became the first commercial airline to safely deliver the first batch of Pfizer and BioNTech's COVID-19 vaccine into the U.S. thanks to a coordinated effort between United's cargo, safety, technical operations, flight operations, regulatory and legal teams.
Now as the entire shipping and logistics industry bands together to widely distribute vaccines, United is leveraging all of its flights, including cargo-only and those carrying passengers, to transport millions of vaccines to destinations throughout our network, including Honolulu, Guam and Saipan – the first of any carrier to do so.
"United's cargo service has helped safely deliver many essential goods during this pandemic, but there is no shipment that gives me more personal pride than helping bring this life-saving vaccine to our communities," said Jan Krems, United Cargo President. "While we still face a long road ahead the promise of a widely distributed vaccine gives us hope that we are one step closer to putting this pandemic behind us and moving forward together toward a brighter future."
And United is shipping more than just vaccines to help during the pandemic in keeping the lines of commerce flowing and goods getting to where they need to be. Since mid-March, United has operated 9,000 cargo-only flights carrying more than 435 million pounds of cargo. By using a combination of cargo-only flights and passenger flights, United Cargo has also transported 80 million pounds of medical supplies this year.
In coordination with our shipping and logistics partners, United will continue to distribute COVID-19 treatments to destinations throughout its network. The real heroes are the scientists who created these life-saving vaccines and the frontline workers who are not only administering them, but also helping care for and tend to those suffering from this virus. United is proud to do its part in helping to get this precious cargo to the people and communities who need them, and looks forward to doing our part in the months ahead.
United Cargo responds to COVID-19 challenges, prepares for what's next
September 30, 2020
Even before the COVID-19 pandemic, United Cargo has supported a variety of customers within the healthcare industry for over 10 years. Three key solutions – TempControl, LifeGuard and QuickPak – protect the integrity of vital shipments such as precision medicine, pharmaceuticals, biologics, medical equipment and vaccines. By utilizing processes like temperature monitoring, thermodynamic management, and priority boarding and handling, United Cargo gives customers the peace of mind that their shipments will be protected throughout their journey.
With the global demand for tailored pharmaceutical solutions at an all-time high, we've made investments to help ensure we provide the most reliable air cargo options for cold chain shipping. In April this year, we became the first U.S. carrier to lease temperature-controlled shipping containers manufactured by DoKaSch Temperature Solutions. We continue to partner with state-of-the-art container providers to ensure we have options that meet our customers' ever-changing needs.
"Providing safe air cargo transport for essential shipments has been a top priority since the pandemic began. While the entire air cargo industry has had its challenges, I'm proud of how United Cargo has adapted and thrived despite a significant reduction in network capacity and supply," said United Cargo President Jan Krems. "We remain committed to helping our customers make it through the pandemic, as well as to doing everything we can to be prepared for the COVID-19 vaccine distribution when the time comes."
Our entire team continues to prioritize moving critical shipments as part of our commitment to supporting the global supply chain. We've assembled a COVID readiness task team to ensure we have the right people in place and are preparing our airports as we get ready for the industry-wide effort that comes next.
In cooperation with our partners all over the world, United Cargo has helped transport nearly 145 million pounds of medical supplies to aid in the fight against COVID-19, using a combination of cargo-only flights and passenger flights. To date, United Cargo has operated more than 6,300 cargo-only flights and has transported more than 213 million pounds of cargo worldwide.
United Cargo responds to global needs, celebrates 5000th cargo-only flight
August 18, 2020
By Jan Krems, President, United Cargo
In mid-March, United took steps to manage the historic impact of COVID-19 and began flying a portion of our Boeing 777 and 787 fleets as dedicated cargo-only flights to transport air freight to and from U.S. hubs and key international business locations. More than ever, providing reliable cargo transportation was vitally important and I'm proud say our United Cargo team stepped up to support our customers.
Although we're facing the most challenging environment our industry has ever experienced, I'm very excited to celebrate a major milestone. Since March 19, United has operated over 5,000 cargo-only flights transporting nearly 170 million pounds of cargo on these flights alone. With an increased need to keep the global supply chain moving, and an even more urgent need for medical supplies, we knew we had to utilize our network capabilities and personnel to move vital shipments, such as medical kits, personal protective equipment (PPE), pharmaceuticals and medical equipment between U.S. hubs and key international destinations.
In cooperation with freight forwarders and partners all over the world, United Cargo helped transport more than 107 million pounds of medical supplies to aid in the fight against COVID-19 using a combination of cargo-only flights as well as passenger flights.
To keep military families connected, we increased the frequency of cargo-only flights between the U.S. and military bases in various parts of the world — including bases located in Guam, Kwajalein and several countries in Europe. We know how critically important it is for these families to stay connected, and I'm honored that we were able to utilize our network and our aircraft to fly nearly 3 million pounds of military supplies.
In collaboration with food-logistics company Commodity Forwarders Inc. (CFI), our cargo teams moved nearly 190,000 pounds of fresh produce to Guam for the U.S. Department of Agriculture's Coronavirus Farm Assistance Program. This new program was created to provide critical support to consumers impacted by the coronavirus pandemic.
United has played a critical role in keeping global supply chains stable during the pandemic as we deliver urgently needed goods around the world. These past few months have created challenges that I have never seen in my 30-plus years of experience working within the air cargo and freight forwarding industry. However, I'm proud of our teams for staying focused on our mission to provide high-quality service and to keep our customers connected with the goods they need most.
United Cargo and logistics partners keep critical medical shipments moving
July 02, 2020
By working together and strengthening partnerships during these unprecedented times, our global community has overcome challenges and created solutions to keep the global supply chain moving. As COVID-19 continues to disrupt the shipping landscape, United and our industry partners have increasingly demonstrated our commitment to the mission of delivering critical medical supplies across the world.
United Cargo has partnered with DSV Air and Sea, a leading global logistics company, to transport important pharmaceutical materials to places all over the world. One of the items most critical during the current crisis is blood plasma.
Plasma is a fragile product that requires very careful handling. Frozen blood plasma must be kept at a very low, stable temperature of negative 20 degrees Celsius or less – no easy task considering it must be transported between trucks, warehouses and airplanes, all while moving through the climates of different countries. Fortunately, along with our well-developed operational procedures and oversight, temperature-controlled shipping containers from partners like va-Q-tec can help protect these sensitive blood plasma shipments from temperature changes.
A single TWINx shipping container from va-Q-tec can accommodate over 1,750 pounds of temperature-sensitive cargo. Every week, DSV delivers 20 TWINx containers, each one filled to capacity with human blood plasma, for loading onto a Boeing 787-9 for transport. The joint effort to move thousands of pounds of blood plasma demonstrates that despite the distance, challenges in moving temperature-sensitive cargo and COVID-19 obstacles, we continue to find creative solutions with the help of our strong partnerships.
United Cargo is proud to keep the commercial air bridges open between the U.S. and the rest of the world. Since March 19, we have operated over 3,200 cargo-only flights between six U.S. hubs and over 20 cities in Asia, Australia, Europe, South America, India, the Caribbean and the Middle East.
United further expands cargo-only operations to key international markets
June 9, 2020
United has played a vital role in helping keep the global supply chains stable during the COVID-19 pandemic so urgently needed goods can get to the places that need them most.
In addition to current service from the U.S. to Asia, Australia, Europe, India, Latin America and the Middle East, we are proud to now offer cargo-only flights to key international markets including Dublin, Paris, Rome, Santiago and Zurich. These new routes will connect our freight customers and further extend our air cargo network throughout the world – for example connecting major pharmaceutical hubs in Europe and perishable markets in Latin America.
"Air cargo continues to be more important than ever," says United Cargo President Jan Krems. "This network expansion helps our customers continue to facilitate trade and contribute to global economic development and recovery. I'm proud of our team for mobilizing our cargo-only flights program that enables the shipment of critical goods that will support global economies."
Since we began our program March 19, we have completed more than 2,400 cargo-only flights, transporting over 77 million pounds of cargo. We have over 1,100 cargo-only flights scheduled for the month of June, operating between six U.S. hubs and over 20 cities all over the world.
United's first flight carrying cargo in-cabin takes off
May 13, 2020
United continues to keep supply chains moving and to meet the demand for critical shipments around the globe. Recently, United received approval from the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) to carry cargo in approved storage areas in the passenger cabin.
Our inaugural cargo-in-cabin flight flew from London (LHR) to Chicago (ORD) carrying over 4,200 pounds of mail in the passenger cabin, plus a full payload of freight in the belly of the aircraft. Initially, cargo-in-cabin shipments will be loaded on the 777 and 787 aircraft operating our cargo-only flights. We will continue to evaluate additional opportunities to use this space to meet the growing cargo demand.
"We send our sincere thanks to the FAA for working with our team to enable the transport of more critical goods on United's cargo-only flights," said Jan Krems, President of United Cargo. "By loading existing cabin storage areas with cargo and mail, we can move even more critical medical equipment, PPE, and other vital shipments the world needs to manage through the pandemic."
United's cargo-only network continues to expand in order to help bring vital shipments to the people that need it most. We're now offering service between six of our U.S. hubs and 18 airports worldwide: CTU, HKG, ICN, MEL, PEK, PVG, SIN, SYD and TPE in the Asia-Pacific; AMS, BOM, BRU, DUB, FRA, LHR, TLV and ZRH in EMEIA; and SJU in the Caribbean.
Since the start of its cargo-only flights program March 19, United has operated over 1,300 cargo-only flights transporting over 44 million pounds of cargo.
For more information, visit unitedcargo.com.
United expands cargo-only flights to additional global destinations
April 16, 2020
Getting vital goods, especially medical relief supplies, into the hands of the businesses and people who need them has never been more critically important. To meet the overwhelming demand, United began operating cargo-only flights on March 19. Since we began using Boeing 777 and 787 aircraft from United's passenger fleet for this purpose, we have operated over 400 flights carrying more than 6 million kilos of cargo.
"With the global community in need, we are doing everything we can to keep supply chains moving worldwide and support the battle against COVID-19," said United Cargo President Jan Krems. "We're proud to play an active role in connecting vital medical supplies like test kits and personal protective equipment with healthcare professionals around the world."
We are now operating more than 150 cargo-only flights per week between six of our U.S. hubs and 13 cities worldwide: CTU, HKG, PEK, PVG, SYD and TPE in the Asia Pacific; AMS, BRU, DUB, FRA and LHR in Europe; SJU in the Caribbean and TLV in the Middle East. We expect to add new cities soon and will continue to expand our cargo-only flights program.
Hub | Cargo-only flights operating through May |
Chicago (ORD) |
ORD - AMS (Amsterdam) ORD - FRA (Frankfurt) ORD - HKG (Hong Kong) ORD - LHR (London) ORD - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - PEK (Beijing) |
Houston (IAH) |
IAH - AMS (Amsterdam) IAD - FRA (Frankfurt) |
Los Angeles (LAX) |
LAX - HKG (Hong Kong) LAX - LHR (London Heathrow) LAX - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - PVG (Shanghai) LAX - SYD (Sydney) |
New York/Newark (EWR) |
EWR - AMS (Amsterdam) EWR - FRA (Frankfurt) EWR - LHR (London) |
San Francisco (SFO) |
SFO - AMS (Amsterdam) SFO - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - PEK (Beijing) SFO - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - PVG (Shanghai) SFO - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - TPE (Taipei) SFO - TLV (Tel Aviv) SFO - SYD (Sydney) |
Washington, D.C. (IAD) |
IAD - BRU (Brussels) IAD - DUB (Dublin) IAD - FRA (Frankfurt) IAD - NRT (Tokyo Narita) - PEK (Beijing) IAD - SJU (San Juan) |
Flight details are subject to change, for the most up-to-date schedules, please visit https://ual.unitedcargo.com/covid-updates.
Cargo-only flights support U.S. military and their families
March 30, 2020
We are helping to keep military families connected by increasing the frequency of cargo-only flights between the United States and military bases in various parts of the world — including Guam, Kwajalein, and several countries in Europe. Last week we began operating a minimum of 40 cargo-only flights weekly — using Boeing 777 and 787 aircraft to fly freight and mail to and from U.S. hubs and key international business and military locations.
We are going above and beyond to find creative ways to transport fresh food and produce, as well as basic essentials from the U.S. mainland to military and their families in Guam/Micronesia. On Saturday, March 28, we operated an exclusive cargo-only B777-300 charter to transport nearly 100,000 pounds of food essentials to Guam to support our troops.
In addition, we move mail year-round all over the world. In response to COVID-19, and in support of the military members and their families overseas, we implemented a charter network, transporting military mail to Frankfurt, which is then transported all over Europe and the Middle East. Since March 20, we have flown 30,000+ pounds of military mail every day between Chicago O'Hare (ORD) and Frankfurt (FRA). On the return flight from Frankfurt to Chicago, we have carried an average of 35,000 pounds of mail to help families stay connected.
"Keeping our military families connected with the goods they need, and keeping them connected with loved ones to feel a sense of home, is of critical importance. As a company that has long supported our military families and veterans, our teams are proud to mobilize to lend a hand." — United Cargo President Jan Krems.
Our cargo-only flights support customers, keep planes moving
March 22, 2020
We have begun flying a portion of our Boeing 777 and 787 fleet as dedicated cargo charter aircraft to transfer freight to and from U.S. hubs and key international business locations. The first of these freight-only flights departed on March 19 from Chicago O'Hare International Airport (ORD) to Frankfurt International Airport (FRA) with the cargo hold completely full, with more than 29,000 lbs. of goods.
Getting critical goods into the hands of the businesses and people who need them most is extremely important right now. To support customers, employees and the global economy, we will initially operate a schedule of 40 cargo charters each week targeting international destinations and will continue to seek additional opportunities.
With coronavirus (COVID-19) creating an increased need to keep the global supply chain moving, we are utilizing our network capabilities and personnel to get vital shipments, such as medical supplies, to areas that need them most.
"Connecting products to people around the world is the United Cargo mission," said United Cargo President Jan Krems. "That role has never been more crucial than during the current crisis. Our team is working around the clock to provide innovative solutions for our customers and support the global community."
On average, we ship more than 1 billion pounds of cargo every year on behalf of domestic and international customers. For more information, visit unitedcargo.com.
CHICAGO, Dec. 1, 2020 /PRNewswire/ -- United is inviting MileagePlus members to give back on Giving Tuesday and throughout the holiday season by donating miles to nearly 40 non-profits through United Airlines' crowdsourcing platform, Miles on a Mission. Non-profits like Thurgood Marshall College Fund, College to Congress and Compass to Care are attempting to raise a total of more than 11 million miles to be used for travel for life-saving health care, continued education, humanitarian aid and more. United will match the first 125,000 miles raised for each of these organizations to help ensure they meet their goals.
"This year has posed unprecedented challenges for us all and has been especially devastating to some of the most vulnerable members within the communities we serve," said Suzi Cabo, managing director of global community engagement, United Airlines. "The need for charitable giving has not stopped during the pandemic, and neither has United. This Giving Tuesday marks an opportunity for us to all come together for the greater good and we are proud to provide a platform to support organizations with upcoming travel needs that will enable them to continue supporting the communities they serve."
The launch of these campaigns is part of United's ongoing Miles on a Mission program, which began in October 2019 and has raised more than 92 million miles to-date. Past campaigns have helped organizations travel children for life-saving medical treatment and unite parents with newly adopted children from foreign countries. Participating non-profits have 28-days to reach their mile raising goals through the platform.
The organizations that are raising miles in this campaign include:
- College to Congress: The organization provides support including travel for disadvantaged college students who otherwise could not afford to intern in Washington, D.C.
- Thurgood Marshall College Fund: This is the only national organization representing America's 47 publicly-supported Historically Black Colleges and Universities (HBCUs), and the nearly 300,000 students that attend them each year. The miles raised will cover the travel expenses to and from campus for students unable to afford them.
- My Block, My Hood, My City: This organization provides underprivileged youth with an awareness of the world and opportunities beyond their neighborhood. Miles will be used to fund educational trips for Chicago youths to help them gain a greater understanding of the world outside of their comfort zones.
- Compass to Care: The non-profit ensures all children, whose parents have a financial need, can access life-saving cancer treatment. Compass to Care is raising miles to fund travel to get children from their homes to hospitals for cancer treatment.
- Luke's Wings: This organization is dedicated to the support of service members who have been wounded in battle. Raised miles will be used to purchase plane tickets for families to visit wounded soldiers recovering in Army medical centers.
- Rainbow Railroad USA: The organization's mission is to help persecuted LGBTQI+ individuals around the world travel to safety as they seek a haven from persecution. Miles will support the organization's core Emergency Travel Support program.
This year, United's legal partner Kirkland & Ellis will also be donating $50,000 to My Block, My Hood, My City and the Thurgood Marshall College Fund. Other organizations launching campaigns on the platform include: Sisters of the Skies, Inc., Up2Us Sports, Airline Ambassadors International, Austin Smiles, AWS Foundation, Crazy Horse Memorial, FLYTE, Higher Orbits, Lily's Hope Foundation, Miles4Migrants, Support Utila Inc. and Watts of Love. MileagePlus members can also donate to United's 20 other existing partner charities including, Airlink, American Red Cross, Make-A-Wish, Shriners Hospitals; Clean the World, Special Olympics and more. To learn more or donate to these organizations, please visit donate.mileageplus.com.
Visit www.united.com/everyactioncounts to learn more about our pledge to put our people and planes to work for the greater good.
About United
United's shared purpose is "Connecting People. Uniting the World." For more information, visit united.com, follow @United on Twitter and Instagram or connect on Facebook. The common stock of United's parent, United Airlines Holdings, Inc., is traded on the Nasdaq under the symbol "UAL".
SOURCE United Airlines
For further information: United Airlines Worldwide Media Relations, +1-872-825-8640, media.relations@united.com
In October 2019, we launched a first-of-its-kind airline miles donation platform, Miles on a Mission. In the inaugural year, MileagePlus members donated over 70 million miles, with United matching over 20 million miles, to 51 organizations. These miles have allowed for these organizations to do important, life-changing, life-saving work in the communities we serve around the globe.
Whether it's visiting friends and relatives, traveling for work or simply exploring a new corner of the world, we all have a reason as to why we fly. No matter the reason you fly, the miles you earn and donate help our Miles on a Mission partners soar. Take a look at how some of our partner organizations have put our MileagePlus Members' donations to work.
Be The Match
"To deliver life-saving cells and hope to Be the Match patients, like me!"
Born This Way Foundation
"These donated miles will support Born This Way Foundation's mission of supporting the wellness of LGBTQ+ youth — and all young people — by expanding access to mental health resources and promoting kindness."
Combined Arms
"Combined Arms is uniting communities to accelerate the impact of veterans and their families."
Compass to Care
"To help children get to life-saving cancer treatment"
COSIG, INC.
"We fly to save. We fly to save lives, saving homeless veterans anywhere, any time."
Gift of Adoption Fund
"Gift of Adoption flies to unite children with their families — giving them a chance to thrive!"
Holocaust Museum of Houston
"Holocaust Museum Houston flies United to educate people about the dangers of hatred, prejudice and apathy. Holocaust Museum Houston flies United to connect teachers with Holocaust and human rights educational resources."
I AM ALS
"We fly today so those living with ALS can have a better tomorrow."
Lazarex Cancer Foundation
"At Lazarex we fly patients with cancer to clinical trials for hope and a chance at life!"
Miles4Migrants
"Donate your miles to help refugees reach safe homes for the holidays."
OperationUSA
"To get vital relief and recovery aid where it's needed most!"
Peruvian Hearts
"We fly to educate and empower girls in Peru."
Project Angel Heart
"To collaborate with partners & promote that #FoodIsMedicine"
Project HOPE
"United helps our medical teams deliver hope and support when people need it most!"
Rise Against Hunger
"We fly to bring hope to 2 million people around the globe facing food insecurity."
Swim Across America
"To make waves to fight cancer."
The Trevor Project
"Because every LGBTQ young person deserves to be valued, respected and loved for who they are."
Up2Us Sports
"My team needs me now more than ever. I will be there for them!"
Watts of Love
"Watts of Love brings solar light and hope to those living in the darkness of poverty!"
Waves for Water
"To bring access to clean water for everyone that needs it."