Week 8: The Four Musketeers

Put "Salta Argentina" into Google Images and you will be presented with a myriad of lovely pictures from multi-coloured mountains to rolling hills littered with cacti. This, my friend, is not the case when it comes to city of Salta. The province however, some 155 thousand square kilometres, is lovely. We did stay in a nice hostel though, the "Ferienhaus," which was quite central and close to the main square, which was very reminiscent of colonial times and home to an extremely elaborate, gold-gilted catholic cathedral. (A concept I will never understand.)

Eefje, Jen and I at the mountain of seven colours in Pumamarca

 In the evening of our arrival, after having a "banana split" - comprised of a bowl of fruit salad, ice cream, and soggy bits of crepe, we headed back to the hostel for what we feared may be our one last asado, basically a meat feast of a barbeque with  a few token tomatoes. The evening escalated rather quickly as the wine flowed freely and we filled ourselves with the delicious food. Edgar, Eefje and myself personally took a trip to the store in search of more quality beverages. We headed out around 0300 to a small bar/club, which may or may not have been full of transvestites. I had the best dance since leaving the UK, led by a canadian guy who had been dancing the two-step for a number of year. After a very late bedtime we awoke in the morning to a chocolate milkshake and scrambled eggs courtesy of Edgar. We then headed out to take a walk in San Lorenzo as a group of 5, however none of us really had much energy we enjoyed the lush green landscape. On our return to the hostel we met Jenny, who had taken the bus the following day, and we hatched a plan to leave Salta.

The following morning was an early start as we took a bust at 0700 to Jujuy, where I bought 2 tickets to Pumamarca. (Shortly before boarding the bus I discovered a hole in my pocket and a missing ticket.) This was the location of the seven-coloured mountain. Already we felt as if we were in a different country to the rest of Argentina. There were more small and dusty villages, more stalls and markets rather than shops, transport and food was getting cheaper and it started to feel more as if we were really beginning our travels, as we left the more westernised areas of South America. After a few enjoyable hours (and one horrible incident involving the death of a wide angle lens) we took the bus to Humahuaca, where we intended to connect to La Quiaca, at the border with Bolivia. We missed the last bus by twenty minutes, however this turned out to be a blessing in disguise as Humahuaca was a real gem and a little more off the beaten track. We found what appeared to be a lovely, quiet and personal hostel, where we met a couple cycling from Peru to the southern tip of Argentina. We had a ghreat walk around town and some street food before heading to bed. Then disaster struck. But only for me.

Panorama from the hill in Humahuaca

Those who have ever been on holiday with me or to anywhere with serious bugs and insects will know that I am a total magnet for them. I woke up in the morning absolutely covered in bedbug bites. (We later did a count and it came to over 100). Nobody else had them and it took all of my self restraint over the next few days not to scratch a single one. Fortunately, after bagging up my PJs and the clothes I had put on that morning, they didn't spread. We then took the first bus to Iruya, a small town nestled in the hills, a 3 hour, but only 66km drive from Humahuaca. I can safely say that this was the most terrifying bus journey I have had so far. We drove up to 4,000m the highest I had been so far, and then descended again. I nodded off to sleep and when I woke up we were driving down the moutain side around hair-pin bends with a learner driver, and visibility of approximately 25m. We eventually arrived safely in Iruya and found a little Hospedaje (homestay) where the shower had to be filled and heated. This proved to be a real challenge for some of us: Eefje overfilled the tank as she couldn't tell the difference between left and right, flooding the bathroom and shouting "Claire! Help! Don't ever leave me!" However she was not the only one to embarass herself as the husband of the homestay locked himself in one of the bedrooms for over half an hour trying to install a new door handle. We went for a walk in and around the town, which was in a really breathtaking setting. Florencia, with whom I stayed in Buenos Aires, had messaged me advising me to go.

Iruya

We left the following afternoon and after getting dropped off on the side of the road managed to get another bus to the border, where we stayed in Yavi for a night, a town of about 400 inhabitants. After a real struggle we managed to find dinner, however we also picked up our most persistant canine companion so far. She literally would not leave us alone. We shut her out of our homestay, but she managed to open the locked door and came in. Eventually the owner bolted the door and we all managed to get to bed. In the morning we went for an absolutely beautiful walk in the canyon nearby where we saw a few chinchillas, some goats, cows, and one hourse. Of course our doggy friend also accompanied us. In the afternoon we headed to La Quiaca, the border town, where we hoped to cross the border to Bolivia. Alas, it was not to be. There were protests at the border so after a while we made the deciusion to stay the night in the town. (Where there was absolutely nothing going on, and the internet was down in the whole town). We managed to amuse ourselves with some card games and then headed to bed. Jen and I shared and Edgar and Eefje each had their own beds. (I try not to think about what the former function of the room may or may not have been.)

Jen and her trusty followers in the lush canyons around Yavi

The next day we packed up our belongings and once again headed for the border. There was a lot of tension. Although the children were allowed through on the Bolivian side, some men started a protest marching towards the border. After an hour or so there was a sudden rush as we were told we could cross the border. We quickly got our entry and exit stamps and rushed to the border. However there was still a blockade so we sat and waited. Jen really really needed the toilet so I accompanied her on an illegal crossing back into Argentina to use the toilet. The timing could not have been better, as we returned they were just opening the blockade. We grabbed our bags and went through. Once in Villazon, the Bolivian border town, we took a bus to Tupiza, where we planned to begin the tour of the Salt Flats and National Park. All in all, an eventful week and it is actually starting to feel like travelling and less like a really long holiday.