Mother H

My second day in beautiful Cafayate I visited a couple of vineyards - nothing special - just large scale operations - impersonal. Although I did find some excellent local basil cheese. I hiked to some petroglyphs on the edge of town and sat in cave with the rock-paintings trying to soak up the thousands of years of history.
Next day, went back to Salta and found out my sublessors are bailling on rent for 2.5 months. Fuckers. I have to reconfigure my budget now, but there is little that would halt my travels (except for maybe that nasty STD I picked up in BA). I wandered around Salta the rest of the day and saw the inside of the big, pink cathedral. I like going to these religious monuments for a couple of reasons. I'm a history buff and usually the structures represent the beginning of European conquest in a given area. Also, I'm a practicing devil worshipper doing intelligence work for the dark prince's army. Two birds, one stone.
Afterwards, I went to a museum with Incan mummies on display. These unbelievably well-preserved corpses were originally placed at the tops of mountains hundreds of years ago in northern argentina. One of them nicknamed "The Queen" had a face frozen in horror. Eyes open, jaw agape - she is burned into my memory.
Next day took a bus to Humahuaca - a small town north of Salta on the edge of the Quebrada de Humahuaca - a beautiful gorge that runs for dozens of miles. The Spanish marched down this canyon in the early 19th century during the Argentinean independence war. One Argentine city, Jujuy, was completely razed by the Argentineans to avoid letting the Spanish capture it. Commitment.
The bus trip to Huma was brief but memorable we watched "Bloodsport" as babies screamed. I swear the bus company issued babies with all ticket sales. So many of those snot-nosed, bleary-eyed, stinky, tender....babies.
Found a cheap hostel in Huma and hiked around town on some goat trails and met a couple from Australia/England with whom I'm now travelling.
Huma is like Santa Fe, New Mexico extremely high and dry - close to 2500 meters. Colder than bejesus at night. Adobe structures.
Took a bus to Uquia - a small town famous for its' 17th century paintings of angels holding spanish colonial weapons - remarkable considering the time period they were created - unremarkable otherwise.
Made it across the border to Tupiza, Bolivia, but was halted for an hour near the border by protesters burning tires. I got out just in time. Bolivia is a world apart. People look more indigenous here with wider features and smaller statures, it is a country MUCH poorer than Argentina, but the people are just as friendly. I dig the clothing choices too.
My time in Argentina was spectacular. The country has it all (including significant poverty): deserts, forests, mountains, famrlands, beaches. It is one of the most prosperous countries in South America and will, probably, continue to be. Lovely place. I wish Americans posessed the same political fervor Argentineans have shown me.
If McCain wins I'm looking into Argentine citizenship.

The day I arrived in Salta I walked around and found a hostel with a ping-pong table. Serious business, but not many competitors.
Salta is a beautiful old town with a big pink cathedral and tons of colonial era buildings. I hiked to the top of a hill on the edge of town and caught an excellent view of the city. Afterwards, I tried to bargain with a street vendor for a pancho, but like all my bargaining experiences in Argentina, was completely shot down.

Street Vendor "20 pesos"
David "OK.....10 pesos"
Street Vendor "no"
David "OK, OK, 15 pesos?"
Street Vendor "no"
David "A little less, come on"
Street Vendor "You buy it or you don't."

After Salta I took a bus to Cafayate - a small town near the Quebrada de Cafayate - a beautiful gorge reminiscent of northern arizona or southern utah. There are also wineries and vineyards there.
I found an empty hostel, rented a bike, and biked through the Quebrada. Awesomely beautiful.
Although after about 30 km, the bike seat felt like a rock. My ass hurt worse than that one time (GTT).
On the way back I stopped at a house that I thought was a cafe. The owner came out and I asked for a glass of wine - he poured me a shot glass of his home brew. It was one of the worst wines I have ever tried - I had one of those faces usually reserved for drinks with much higher alcohol contents. As I finished, he stared at me with an quizzical, happy expression that said "it's good right?"
David "Yeahhh...how much is it again?"
The next day I visited some petroglyphs on the edge of the gorge. Lots of goats.

After parting with the Kearls I stopped in the city of Resistencia on my way to Salta. Resistencia is a town known for its numerous outdoor sculptures and commitment to public art. I arrived late on friday night and couldn't find a place to stay for quite some time . The place I was recommended to stay, quite literally, did not exist - it had been demolished into rubble.
I huffed and puffed until I found the seedy luxor hotel. Overpriced, unhelpful staff, and full or partying Argentineans. I cranked up the enormous fan in the room to drown out the sounds of the partygoers.
I awoke early the next morning, did some laundry and tried, but was unable, to buy my bus ticket for Salta. The protests concerning food taxes had flared up again and the roads were completely blocked for an unforseeable amount of time.
I retreated back to the center of town to make the most of my saturday - but everything I was recommended to do was closed or was no longer in existence. Museums, cafes, markets, all of it. There were no people on the streets. Where was I? Why were all the hotels full?
I finally found a shitty open air market selling cheap plastic imports. I talked with a girl at a selling station who seemed completely baffled at my presence.

"why are you here?"
"just to...you know...see things - be here"
"huh?"

After that I found the main sculpture park but was quite disappointed. The sculptures reminded me of those around the campus of my alma mater. Seemingly erected as consolation prizes for students' efforts.
Fuck this - I'm leaving.
I called the bus ticket office and grifted information from the lady - the roads were now open or there was another way out or a purple dragon had brokered peace between arguing sides. My spanish still isn't that great. The important thing was that I could leave.
I hurriedly packed my things, rushed to the bus station, but got there early. So I took shower in the terminal bathroom. Hopped the bus and drifted off to sleep during a Cedric the Entertainer movie.
Salta is beautiful

Frank, Zach, and I parted ways after visiting the awesome Iguazu Falls.
The brothers will be in Buenos Aires for a few days until they began their long haul back to the States. They both seem quite shocked to be heading back after 5 1/2 months away.
I have continued on to Resistencia, a city of half a million on the border with Paraguay known for its' hundreds of outdoor sculptures and chamame music (something like South American polka). Although I´m not sure how much chamaming I'll be doing - feeling a bit under the weather.
Iguazu Falls was, as everyone says, spectacular and jaw-dropping. We hiked around the park for most of the day getting misted by the falls. The fact there were a fair number of other tourists did not diminish the experience.
We hopped on the bus back to town and sat next to some American girls that refreshed my bitterness.
Before I left, the Kearls´loaded me up with items they wouldn't be needing: alarm clock, sun block, aspirin, and water purification tablets. The time spent travelling with them went quickly and was a blast. I already miss them but am looking forward to new adventures alone.