Salta, Argentina

Monday 16 July 2007 On Friday I gratefully caught the overnight train from Uyuni, in Bolivia, to Villazon on the North Argentina border. While waiting in the station cafe I was able to watch Reading v the River Plate, in Korea. The train was full but comfortable. I slept a good deal of the journey. There was some disturbance at couple of stops as some passengers alighted and boarded. As dawn broke the landscape was the typical sandy desert scrub with mountains in the distance. I was really impressed to find the toilet perfectly clean and in full working order after 8 hours travel.

At about 7am we reached Villazon. There was a scrum to revcoer luggage from the freight car at the rear and a walk through the town to reach the border controls. There was long queue to get through Argentinian immigration because there was only one man processing the travellers. Some locals would push in much to the gringos' annoyance. In fact the system was bizarre as some didn´t need to queue.




Eventually I crossed into La Quaica, the Argentinian border town, and walked about 1km to the bus terminal where I bought a bus ticket to Salta, 7 hours away. The bus journey was on the usual impressive double decker luxury coach with reclining seats and on board WC with a fair mix of tourists and locals. The roads were quickly noticeably better than Bolivia, being asphalt and in good repair. We stopped after a couple of hours in a small town and many got off for a snack or comfort break. I may have been sleeping for part of the stop ass I got off after everyone else and went to buy a sandwich. As I was paying I heard the bus start and I had to shoot out of the shop and wave it down. Typically helpful the shop keeper followed with my change. I don't like to think what would have happened if I'd been left behind. Another hour later on the bus was stopped at a check-point and we had to collect our bags from the luggage hold for inspection. It appeared to be some counter terrorism measure. Many of the local men were taken into a room to be body searched. They didn't pay much attention to me.

Once we passed San Salvador de Jujuy the main road became a 4 lane motorway and the lanscape changed to a greener, if somewhat parched, grass and trees. Frustratingly the bus route kept leaving the motor way and going into towns to pick up and drop of more passengers. The last 100kms of the journey seemed to take for ever but eventually we arrived in Salta only half an hour late.

I took a taxi to my pre-booked hostel and managed to negotiate a better room with an external window. In fact the room was pretty large with ensuite bathroom and heater, and the young staff have been very helpful so I´ve been very comfortable the last couple of days.

After getting some cash from an ATM i joined in a BBQ dinner at the hostel where I met some of the other residents, all much younger than me, and good company. I went to bed when most of them were going out on the town.

Next day, Sunday, I went to the bus station to purchase my next ticket to Resistencia, which is about half way to Iguasso, my next real destination. On my way back I came across a regional food festival in a park with music and dancing and where I tried some of the local dishes of empanadas (little pasties), a sweet maize puree wrapped and boiled in the corn leaf and finally a big dish of corn, vegetable and meat soup. The locals on my table were full of encouragement to try what they were having.





I then had a wander around the city centre. Salta is a real 21st century city with nice clean streets, housing and shops. There is a main square which would grace any city in Europe and plenty of the older colonial architecture in good fettle. It was a tangible and pleasant relief from the previous 5 weeks of relative poverty and grime.





Last night I went to the night life area near the station to watch on a large screen in a bar the final of the Copa America with Argentina playing Brasil. Unfortunately Argentina didn´t play too well and lost 3 nil. The bar was half empty well before full time. I then went for my first Argentinian steak and it was pretty good. Plenty more of these to come too.





This morning I checked out of my hotel and took a cable car up the nearest mountain for the view. In a couple of hours I catch the overnight bus to Resistencia, the "city of sculpture".