Salta, Cordoba, Condors, and Cookies

About eight hours from the border, I arrived at the very cosmopolitan city of Salta, complete with outdoor cafes, classy shops, and empanadas. All I ate there were empanadas! This is pretty much all I did, besides climbing up the nearby hill and talking pictures of the park at the top. The difference between this city and Bolivian cities was huge! Gone were the women in traditional dress and the tiny, windowless shops and vast markets.


Top of the Teleferico in Salta.


Waterworks in the park in Salta.

After two whole days of empanadas, I escaped to Córdoba, where they had fewer empanadas. My guidebook described this city as an fascinating combination of the old and the new. The book even admitted this was a cliche, but the statement had some truth to it. It even inspired me to take this picture:


A combination of the old and the new. I didn´t go into the strange red projection, but I did go into the church, and it looked like this:


Pretty eh?

In Córdoba, I stayed in a large hostel where I met some interesting people. We went to a discoteco where a very sweaty Argentinian man took pity on the foreigners and tried to teach us to dance, which he unfortunately failed miserably at, but it was fun all the same.

After a few days of museums, ice creams, and drinking, I was anxious to get out of the city and have some real adventures. It occurred to me, however, that perhaps I took this desire too far when a bus dropped me off on the corner of the deserted highway and a dirt road, leaving me with my two backpacks and a magnificent hangover. Before he took off again, the busdriver assured me that there was something about a kilometer down the dirt road.


Horses by the dirt road where I was dropped off.

After walking for almost two kilometers through stunning--and quite empty--rocky grassland, I eventually found the visitors center for Parque Nacional Quebrada del Condorito. I had expected a town, but it turned out I had enough ham and cheese sandwiches for dinner that night and breakfast the next morning. I set up my tent at around 4pm, and continued on about 5 km to a gorge where baby condors learn to fly. I had my dinner watching condors circle below me in the sunset. Quite nice!


Very pretty campsite, though it got very cold at night.


Quebrada del Condorito.

The next morning I hiked out to the road and flagged down a bus headed to Mina Clavero, a very popular spot for Córdobeses in the summer because of its limpid streams and swimming holes. Arriving in the fall was perfect, I thought, since the crowds were scared away and it was still just hot enough to swim.


Bridge over gorge near Mina Clavero.

I stayed in a really nice hostel here, and when I checked in the man seemed inordinately amused that I couldn't understand his strong Argentinian accent. He gave me a tour during which we examined the hostel in extreme detail, just so he could prolong my bewildered expression. We examined, for example, where they keep the placemats, where I could find a musical instrument, and the locations of the lightswitches in not one, but two rooms. Anyways, eventually he said that he and a few girls staying in the hostel were going to have a barbeque that night and I could join in, which resulted in a very delicious and fun night.

The next day I rented a bike to go check out a neighboring town and to go to a nearby swimming hole. I biked through the rolling hills and past abandoned summer resorts, finally arriving at a very pretty river and explored for awhile, went swimming, ate lunch, and got really sunburned.


Exploring the sandy-bottomed rivers around Mina Clavero.

At about 4, after the requisite ice cream, I arrived back in Mina Clavero, and was meandering around the town when I encountered a large Argentinian man on a bike. He was very excited to see me and talked rapidly in Argentinian Spanish, which after the slow cadence of Bolivians, I understood very little of. It seemed to be a question, however, so I told him the only information I could offer, which was all the places I had just been. He responded, "Great! We go together!" (He had been asking where I was going). And so we went back to all the places I had just been, but faster. It was great fun.

We didn't get back until after dark, and at this point, I was exhausted, but Jose invited me to dinner in his bakery with his wife and daughter, which was very nice. He sent me off with his email address and 16 fresh baked cookies!


After a lengthy bike ride, Jose and his family at his bakery.

I left Mina Clavero the next day to head to La Carolina, a small town my guidebook recommended for its stone buildings and pastoral setting. I didn't arrive until about 7pm that night, and the bus crossed two rivers to drop me and a couple others on a deserted stone street. It was like stepping back in time. The town was tiny, with one main street and otherwise only dirt paths to the other stone houses on the nearby hills. A mountain, illuminated by the sunset, emerged to one side of town.

As I stepped off the bus and headed up a stone staircase to a hostel, I felt like I may be the only person in town. But, I was quite wrong. I walked into the common area of the hostel to find it filled with cameras, lights, computers, and other equipment, and an entire film crew. They immediately asked if I was traveling by myself, and invited me to join them for dinner.


Fall hitting La Carolina.


Stone buildings, stone streets in La Carolina.

I happily ate their empanadas and drank their beer, though this was really difficult for me, and went along with them as they took pictures of the stars. They were filming a documentary about the town--both the history of its gold mines and its current status as occasional tourist destination.

The next morning, the producer asked if I wanted to sit at a table while some other guy (he gestured to man I didn't meet the night before) drank coffee. At least, this is what I understood of the conversation. It made much more sense to me when I discovered that they would be filming at the time, that the other guy was the actor of the film, and they needed a couple extras. So, they got me dressed in a llama sweater to play the role of "tourist"--a role I felt born to play. I sat at a table for at least an hour while the set was perfected. I was positioned and repositioned and given some touristy props as well as an empty cup of coffee. After everything was perfect, filming two takes took maybe 15 minutes, and that is how I became famous.


Getting ready on set.


The "cafe."

After my starring role was over, I hiked up the nearby mountain, which had beautiful views, and completed La Carolina's strange stone labyrinth.


Cerro Tomolasta from below.


La Carolina from above.


Enjoying a beer at the top!

I spent one more night in the town, sharing dinner again with the film crew (I was paid in food), and then headed to Mendoza the next morning to finish off my trip. There I met Ben, drank a lot of wine, toured some vineyards, and generally had a very classy time, though I didn't have any fantastic adventures, and I didn't take any pictures. After a brief stop into Chile, to Valparaiso, I took a plane up to the north of Chile and a couple buses to Cochabamba.

Now, I go on to the next adventure: I go home to the United States tomorrow, where my sister Cate and I plan to spend the next couple months biking the Continental Divide. Should be a fun trip!