Salta and the Andean Northeast

Not all bus companies are created equal. We found that out the hard way as we piled on to our Flecha bus (which was supposedly cama - meaning full fold-down bed) and braced ourselves for our 17 hour trip from Mendoza to Salta. Unlike Andesmar, Flecha bus did not provide blankets, pillows, or a clean chair. And where was our flat cheese sandwich to welcome us aboard? Our old host Martin was nowhere to be found and in his place was a family of flies, screaming babies, and soccer hoodlums. They were the perfect audience for the Polish teenage lesbian drama that someone decided to pop into the VCR. Huh? Anyway, the entire ride was bad. And long! Fuck you Flecha bus!

But we arrived, dirty and tired, and were pleased to find friendly faces and pleasant accomodation at our fabulous pueblo-looking hostel Las Rejas ($18 USD per night). Salta is a cute mini-metropolis, famous for its wealth of well preserved Colonial architecture. On one side of the city´s central square, Plaza 9 de Julio, sits a giant pink birthday cake of a cathedral which rivals in gaudiness and grandeur the best that Florence or Madrid has to offer. On the opposite side of town is the Cerro San Bernado. We climbed Bernado´s 1,070 steps to its peak, were kind of ¨eh¨ about the view of the sprawling, smoggy urbanscape below, and then enjoyed a leisurely ride in the cable car (also known as ¨the scary box on the string¨) back down the mountain. (We later learned from a native Salteño that Cerro San Bernardo is hated among the city´s youths whose monthly P.E. exams involve racing their instructor up the thousand steps of San Bernardo and only passing the exam if they beat the instructor to the top. Clearly Argentina has much more fit gym teachers than the gray and paunchy ones we remember from junior high; must be the futbol.)

The thing about Salta, though, is that while at first blush it appears all quaint and picturesque, it´s actually driving one Noodle insane right now. Too much diesel exhaust being sprayed in your face in front of the big pink birthday cake, too few mufflers as you try and enjoy the serenity of the courtyard of the Franciscan monastery near the central square. We´re hoping to find sanctuary in the Museo de los Montañas Altas which supposedly has some baby Inca mummies on display and is set away from the street and insulated in glorious silence by thick, double-paned glass.

Having to skip Bolivia because of a yellow fever vaccination complication (Brazil requires one for Americans if you´ve been in Bolivia 90 days before entering Brazil; Noodles are not vaccinated) we were stoked to find out that Salta had some equally impressive salt flats. So we ponied up the $195 pesos ($60 USD) and went on the excursion to see the impressive salt. In the morning, we followed the tracks of the Tren a las Nubes (Train to the Clouds - a 17 hour trip that goes up a beautiful mountain and then comes right back down it - in the dark. It´s supposed to be great, but only runs on Saturdays this time of year. Ande was secretly excited we missed it.) By mid-day we were at 4,000 meters (around 12,000 feet) and feeling the high altitude effects. Both of us felt slow and heavy and a little short of breath. Jen had a strange tummy feeling and Ande fell asleep in the car while the breathtaking multi-colored mountains passed us by. Hours later we saw the salt flats in the distance. Our guide Luis explained that they look close, but are actually 100km away. Some more hours later, we drove right onto the Salinas Grandes - both of us hanging out the window in anticipation of the stunning sight before us. In the middle of the desert, for as far as the eye could see, was bright white salt - literally an entire dry lake bed composed of salt crystals compressed into broad, hexagonal tiles. We jumped all around it, licked it, and took a zillion pictures. Having traveled to a lot of places, both Noodles agreed, the Salinas Grandes was one of the coolest things either of us had ever seen.

Back to the city of Salta we went with a short stop in the small Argentine willage of Pumamarca. Finally, a willage! With the small mestizo looking ladies in the black hats selling fuzzy llama hats. We had a go at some Te´ de Coca (tea made of coca leaves). Our guide told us it would wake us up, supress our appetites, and help with digestion. What a miracle this coca is. We finished our glasses and Ande fell flat asleep, but not before complaining of starvation. Both of our tummies felt great though. I guess one out of three isn´t bad. Pumamarca is a small cute town on the side of a multi-colored hill. That´s all there is to say really about Pumamarca.

More pictures are coming soon...we promise.