Day 9: Between Stone and Sky

Today I climbed the towers of La Basílica del Voto Nacional. The basilica stood tall and imposing against the bright sky, its Gothic arches and intricate stone carvings more striking up close. I spent time tracing the details of the structure, the gargoyles along its sides casting long shadows as the sun peeked through the clouds.

Inside, the cool, dim light filled the nave, illuminating the stained glass windows. Climbing the narrow stairs was like moving through layers of history. Each level brought new angles, glimpses of the city below, and small, quiet alcoves tucked into the stone walls.

When I reached the top, Quito spread out beneath me-a mosaic of terra cotta roofs, winding streets, and distant hills stretching toward the Andes. The air was crisp, and the city felt almost still from this height. I sketched quickly, trying to capture the sweeping view before the light began to change.

There's something humbling about standing above a place like this, where mountains and city meet in silent conversation. It was a moment I wanted to hold onto, high above the sounds and movements below.