Quilotoa is the reason people come. The crater of an extinct volcano, about three kilometres across, holds a lake of astonishing colour, a turquoise to emerald green that shifts with the light and the minerals dissolved in it. The rim sits at about 3,900 metres, and the drop to the water is some three hundred metres, with a steep path that zigzags down for those who want to touch it. The climb back up is far harder than the descent, so take it slowly, or hire a mule for the way up.
The caldera was formed by a huge eruption roughly eight hundred years ago, and the collapse of the summit created the basin that later filled with water. The crater is still volcanically alive, with bubbles of gas rising and a faint sulphur trace at times, and locals tell stories of a creature or a spirit in the depths. The village of Zumbahua nearby holds a lively Saturday market, where indigenous families trade potatoes, wool and livestock, and the hats and ponchos are a sight in themselves.
The nearest towns are Pujili and Saquisili, and neither is close, so the usual caution applies: no real fuel here, though small guesthouses and cafes around the rim serve soup, trout and hot drinks. They are simple, cold and warmly welcoming, and many have fires. Staying overnight at the rim, you wake to a view few places can match, and the night sky is brilliant.
The wind sweeps the rim hard, so a windproof jacket is essential, and weather swings from hot sun to hail in an hour. Fog can erase the lake entirely, and visitors sometimes arrive to see nothing but white. If that happens, wait; it often lifts. The road to the rim is paved on the main approach but narrow and sometimes potholed, with dogs and livestock. Take care on the cobbled village streets, which are slippery in rain. Early morning is the best time, when the water is calm and the colours deepest, and the crowds have not yet arrived.