San Luis sits in the Guaranda canton of Bolivar Province, in the zone where the Andes stop being mountains and start easing into coastal lowlands. The climate here is warm and sub-tropical, the soil fertile, and the fields around town support a patchwork of plantains, oranges, sugarcane, coffee, and cacao - the same tree that will, a few steps downstream in the chocolate supply chain, become the bars sold in European shops. Fifty years ago, roughly, settlers arrived and began clearing the original rainforest. Much of what was cleared is gone. The remaining forest is threatened by logging. Ecotourism projects are trying to create alternative income streams before the last of it disappears.

Piedra Blanca - the white rock - sits in a rainforest valley near San Luis, and it is the reason backpackers find their way here. Waterfalls drop through dense green canopy. Monkeys move through the trees. Hummingbirds flash past at eye level. Toucans call from somewhere you cannot quite locate. The community that lives in Piedra Blanca runs an ecotourism project as an alternative to cutting more trees, and local guides accompany visitors to the rainforest, to cultural sites nearby, and on rafting expeditions using balsawood rafts of pre-Inca design - the same kind of craft that once traded Spondylus shells up and down the Pacific coast. The community limits visitor numbers deliberately. They want the forest intact and their lives undisrupted. Both goals depend on not being overrun.

Bolivar Province produces some of the most respected aguardiente in South America. The name translates loosely as 'fire water,' and the production process is straightforward: sugarcane is crushed, fermented, and distilled into a clear, potent 60-proof spirit. CADO, a local cooperative, holds organic certification for its sugarcane plantations and runs tours through its distilleries. The tour ends with a tasting. The taste is sharp and agricultural, closer to a good rum than a bad grain alcohol, carrying the slightly vegetal signature of cane that was grown on specific land by specific people. In the bars of San Luis, aguardiente is the default pour. One bar overlooks the river, and the view is worth the trip even before the glass is filled.

Market day in San Luis is every Sunday. The town fills with produce, livestock, and the specific social energy that rural markets generate anywhere in the world - vendors who know their regular customers, arguments about prices that are more ritual than negotiation, children who get sent to fetch things. The food is basic - chicken, beef, rice, plantains, sweetcorn, avocados - but all of it is grown or raised nearby. There is no bank in town, so visitors bring cash. There are almost no souvenirs to buy, which suits a town that does not particularly want the tourism economy to define it. The ATM-free economy is part of why the place has kept its character. Visitors adapt.

The easy way to reach San Luis is the bus from Zapotal, which takes just over an hour. The other way is harder and more beautiful - a two-day hike down from Salinas de Guaranda, high in the Andes of Bolivar Province. Anyone making that trip needs a local guide, and usually a horse to carry baggage. The trail crosses the transition zone between highland paramo and coastal foothill forest, passing through several microclimates in a single day. Leaving is similar in reverse. Buses run to Quevedo, where you can change for Manta and the coast. Direct buses also run to Guaranda, Santo Domingo de los Colorados, Guayaquil, and Quito. From any of those, the rest of Ecuador opens up. But leaving always feels premature. The forest valley and the quiet town make the kind of impression that takes a while to settle.