Hola!
Wednesday we arrived in Cachi. Wednesday afternoon we drove along Rt 33 to Parque Nacional Los Cardones, which is a recently established reserve to protect the forest of cardon cacti. This type of cactus grows very slowly at less than a few millimeters a year and their wood is attractive for furniture. In this valley at over 10,000 feet they are as far as the eye can see, many of them 15-20 feet tall.
Beyond cordones cactus we approached a pass and on the other side the landscape changes dramatically from red dirt to green that descends, along with Rt 33, into the valley below. This is known as the Valle Escantado (Enchanted Valley). We found a road that winds down for a few kilometers to a small picnic area that is marked by a line-drawing of a mate gourd. The place is beautiful with many rock formations similar to those in Utah combined with low greenery and a small stream.
From there we headed the hour and a half back to Cachi. Along the entire drive we saw Vicunas (I know my spelling is incorrect here, but it's a llama-like animal), mules, sheep, goats, bulls and cows. Many times a herd blocked the road.
Thursday we woke early for the drive to the Salta airport. We retraced our steps from the day before through the cardone cacti and intothe Valle Escantado and then beyond deeper into the valley. The drive is gorgeous with hairpin turns, some dirt road, some paved road, and several small stream crossings. The morning light glowed in the valley, and the further we descended the more homes and farms we saw.
Our new friends from Seattle who we met in Cafayate warned us that the final stream crossing is a bit deeper and wider than the rest. I knew it was coming and indeed it was rather large: about 30 feet across and a couple of feet deep. On the other side were two tourists who parked their car and were standing, looking into the stream, probably wondering what to do. Only from our friends did we know the stream is doable in a tiny rental, so like Mariano from our trip to El Ray, I stopped, looked, found a path, and went nice and slowly in 1st gear. The tires rolled over the round rocks in the stream, a few times slipping, and in a few seconds the car emerged on the other side with a splash as the two tourists looked on. I nodded hello, probably with an air of attitude, happy to have the last obstacle behind me.
From there we sailed smoothly in to Salta and arrived a bit early for our 12:30pm rental drop-off time, so we detoured into a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city for food. We found a hole in the wall that appeared to be a kitchen created from the garage of a house. It was a mom and pop place, and they seemed curious that a couple from the US found it. We ordered despite the less than sanitary conditions - flies were buzzing around and there was an odd smell I didn't like. The owner tried to talk with us and when Allison tried to see the hummingbird outside he immediately came out to tell her about the trees (scaring the bird away) -apparently one of the trees has medicinal properties. When the meal arrived is was a one dish meal of food- mashed potatoes, eggs, chicken, & parmesean - the potatoes were "instant"and the cheese from Kraft, but it was amazingly good. It reminded us of the relatively recent KFC "bowls" - referred to as a "failure bowl" if you're familiar with Oswald Patton's humor.
Without any incident emerging from the meal we made it to our flight that afternoon and arrived in Buenos Aires, pop. 12 million, which was quite a change from the small towns from which we just left.
More later. Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao.
Mark
Monday, April 28, 2008
Sunday, April 27, 2008
In Buenos Aires
Hola!
Internet time has been sparse over the last few days. From Molinos we drove north along Rt 40 for about 2 hours to Cachi, a town of about 5k people. It's a quaint town that feels touristy and that lacks the charm and genuine feeling of Molinos. However, it's where most people stay on their drive from Salta to Cafayate and is also a good place for exploring the national park further along the road on Rt 33, which we did. We climbed to over 10,000 feet to a desert park of many cactuses.
This will be continued. The sole internet terminal at our hotel now has a queue so I should free up the computer.
Ciao ciao,
Mark
Internet time has been sparse over the last few days. From Molinos we drove north along Rt 40 for about 2 hours to Cachi, a town of about 5k people. It's a quaint town that feels touristy and that lacks the charm and genuine feeling of Molinos. However, it's where most people stay on their drive from Salta to Cafayate and is also a good place for exploring the national park further along the road on Rt 33, which we did. We climbed to over 10,000 feet to a desert park of many cactuses.
This will be continued. The sole internet terminal at our hotel now has a queue so I should free up the computer.
Ciao ciao,
Mark
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
In Molinos, along Rt40 on way to Cachi
Hola!
Yesterday we spent the day first half of the day searching out wineries in Cafayate. We found two distinct flavors: the huge winery a la Walla Walla and the very small winery in your garage type. Our first two were of the latter. At each we were the only visitors and it was like being invited into someone´s home, only we were outside. We were showed their wine making process and given tastes of fruits of their labor, which were a little, how do you say, homemade tasting. Despite the wine not being our favorite, we bought a few bottles and the experience of seeing how wine is made in a small-time bodega (spanish for winery) in a backyard was facinating.
After that we stopped at a behemoth winery that you had to buzz yourself into so the gate would open to let in our car. Due to time, we passed on that after seeing it and headed to the one we definitely wanted to visit, called something like Finca de la something (I´m blanking on the name right now, though fyi Finca means farm in Spanish). We passed on the tour since it is given entirely in Spanish and headed straight for the tasting. As we did, a very American accent behind us said, "We´ll follow your lead" as they also decided to skip the tour. I asked where they are from and they replied Seattle. They asked what neighborhood and we replied Green Lake. Turns out they live only two blocks from us! It was a very odd meeting. They are Greg and Peggy, and the four of us sat outside looking over the vinyard and Cafayate getting to know one another over fantastic wine and cured meats and cheese. Oh, and lots of guacamole, which none of us had tasted since leaving home.
After our visit and the purchase of a few more bottles of wine we hit the mosty dirt road to drive about 75km to Molinos. The road is not bad most of the way save for a lot of washboarding, though there were a few one-lane hairpin sections where you hope a truck isn´t coming the other way. The scenery is breathtaking with desert, stunning mountains, jagged rock formations, then some green spots near lakes, all the while climbing to 6500 feet or so. For you Star Wars fans, some of the Empire Strikes Back was filmed along the desert portions of the road. And, we saw two foxes to add to our list of spotted wildlife in Argentina.
Molinos is a stunning little t0wn of about 1000 people with adobe houses and peace and quiet. There are few cars, most of which I´m guessing belong to tourists. The town constantly smells like a campground because most of the cooking is done in conical adobe fire stoves that are in backyards. At night the town is dead silent save for a few birds, the occasional dog bark, and from time to time a brief roar of laughter coming from one of the homes.
We are staying in the fascinating Hostal Provincial de Molinos, which was the 18th century residence of Nicolas Severo de Isasmendi, the last royalist governar of Salta. There are no televisions or radios in the hotel, making it a tranquil, peaceful stay. We hope to visit the museum in the hotel in the next few minutes which reportedly contains some human bones.
In about an hour Allison and I jump into our tiny rental and hit the dirt road for the 1-2 hour drive to Cachi and then hopefully will make our way to a national park this afternoon. Tomorrow morning we drive 4hrs from Cachi to the Salta airport to fly to Buenos Aires for the final leg of our honeymoon.
It´s been long enough that this country is growning on me like I didn´t think it would. We can´t wait to return in a few years to see what we will have missed.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
Yesterday we spent the day first half of the day searching out wineries in Cafayate. We found two distinct flavors: the huge winery a la Walla Walla and the very small winery in your garage type. Our first two were of the latter. At each we were the only visitors and it was like being invited into someone´s home, only we were outside. We were showed their wine making process and given tastes of fruits of their labor, which were a little, how do you say, homemade tasting. Despite the wine not being our favorite, we bought a few bottles and the experience of seeing how wine is made in a small-time bodega (spanish for winery) in a backyard was facinating.
After that we stopped at a behemoth winery that you had to buzz yourself into so the gate would open to let in our car. Due to time, we passed on that after seeing it and headed to the one we definitely wanted to visit, called something like Finca de la something (I´m blanking on the name right now, though fyi Finca means farm in Spanish). We passed on the tour since it is given entirely in Spanish and headed straight for the tasting. As we did, a very American accent behind us said, "We´ll follow your lead" as they also decided to skip the tour. I asked where they are from and they replied Seattle. They asked what neighborhood and we replied Green Lake. Turns out they live only two blocks from us! It was a very odd meeting. They are Greg and Peggy, and the four of us sat outside looking over the vinyard and Cafayate getting to know one another over fantastic wine and cured meats and cheese. Oh, and lots of guacamole, which none of us had tasted since leaving home.
After our visit and the purchase of a few more bottles of wine we hit the mosty dirt road to drive about 75km to Molinos. The road is not bad most of the way save for a lot of washboarding, though there were a few one-lane hairpin sections where you hope a truck isn´t coming the other way. The scenery is breathtaking with desert, stunning mountains, jagged rock formations, then some green spots near lakes, all the while climbing to 6500 feet or so. For you Star Wars fans, some of the Empire Strikes Back was filmed along the desert portions of the road. And, we saw two foxes to add to our list of spotted wildlife in Argentina.
Molinos is a stunning little t0wn of about 1000 people with adobe houses and peace and quiet. There are few cars, most of which I´m guessing belong to tourists. The town constantly smells like a campground because most of the cooking is done in conical adobe fire stoves that are in backyards. At night the town is dead silent save for a few birds, the occasional dog bark, and from time to time a brief roar of laughter coming from one of the homes.
We are staying in the fascinating Hostal Provincial de Molinos, which was the 18th century residence of Nicolas Severo de Isasmendi, the last royalist governar of Salta. There are no televisions or radios in the hotel, making it a tranquil, peaceful stay. We hope to visit the museum in the hotel in the next few minutes which reportedly contains some human bones.
In about an hour Allison and I jump into our tiny rental and hit the dirt road for the 1-2 hour drive to Cachi and then hopefully will make our way to a national park this afternoon. Tomorrow morning we drive 4hrs from Cachi to the Salta airport to fly to Buenos Aires for the final leg of our honeymoon.
It´s been long enough that this country is growning on me like I didn´t think it would. We can´t wait to return in a few years to see what we will have missed.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
Monday, April 21, 2008
In Cafayate
Hola!
This morning began with Allison waking up with a heavy arm and tingley fingers due to bug bites she got in El Ray. On our way out of Salta in our rental car we decided to turn around and consult a doctor. We went back to our hotel, which we had just checked out of, and they called an emergency physician. The doctor arrived at the hotel within 20 minutes and injected her in the derrier with a big ol´needle of cortizone to combat the allergic reaction. Total cost: 20 pesos, which is about $7. Compare that to the $800 I paid at Swedish emergency center in Ballard for an infection last fall. Amazing.
Once that was done we drove the 180km to Cafayate, a beautiful small town that thrives on the winery business. It´s due south of Salta. The driving in Salta is becoming much easier as I´ve gotten into its rhythm, and the highway between Salta and Cafayate is smooth sailing and goes through some amazing desert territory much like Utah.
On the way we stopped at a small local restaurant with no lights, a futbol game on the television, and all locals, most with missing front teeth. We clearly stood out to their clients, who were 95% male, probably on their siesta. One old man left, but before walking out the door he turned, faced us, and then made the sign of the cross before leaving. A few minute later two men approached us and attempted to communicate, both very friendly and cheerful. The meal, (we each got chicken and rice with tomatos, though we weren´t quite sure of what we ordered until it arrived) was the highlight of my day.
Further on we stopped at a small canyon along the road and spotted a colorful snake which is almost certainly poisonous. The snake was about 10 inches long and very narrow with red circles around its body.
My time is now up at the internet drug store from which I´m writing. I´m going to meet Allison for dinner in five minutes.
As usual, thank you for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
This morning began with Allison waking up with a heavy arm and tingley fingers due to bug bites she got in El Ray. On our way out of Salta in our rental car we decided to turn around and consult a doctor. We went back to our hotel, which we had just checked out of, and they called an emergency physician. The doctor arrived at the hotel within 20 minutes and injected her in the derrier with a big ol´needle of cortizone to combat the allergic reaction. Total cost: 20 pesos, which is about $7. Compare that to the $800 I paid at Swedish emergency center in Ballard for an infection last fall. Amazing.
Once that was done we drove the 180km to Cafayate, a beautiful small town that thrives on the winery business. It´s due south of Salta. The driving in Salta is becoming much easier as I´ve gotten into its rhythm, and the highway between Salta and Cafayate is smooth sailing and goes through some amazing desert territory much like Utah.
On the way we stopped at a small local restaurant with no lights, a futbol game on the television, and all locals, most with missing front teeth. We clearly stood out to their clients, who were 95% male, probably on their siesta. One old man left, but before walking out the door he turned, faced us, and then made the sign of the cross before leaving. A few minute later two men approached us and attempted to communicate, both very friendly and cheerful. The meal, (we each got chicken and rice with tomatos, though we weren´t quite sure of what we ordered until it arrived) was the highlight of my day.
Further on we stopped at a small canyon along the road and spotted a colorful snake which is almost certainly poisonous. The snake was about 10 inches long and very narrow with red circles around its body.
My time is now up at the internet drug store from which I´m writing. I´m going to meet Allison for dinner in five minutes.
As usual, thank you for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
El Ray national park
Hola!
This weekend Allison and I joined three Lithuanians and one Irishman on a guided tour to El Ray national park, which is a three hour (technically) drive from Salta to the south and then the east. It was quite a weekend and I don´t have much time to write, so below will be a brain purge.
El Ray is very remote, only accessable by driving over 38km off the paved highway on a dirt road with no less than 7 river crossings accessable only by 4wd vehicles. This made for a very interesting drive given our vehicle was a 2wd van similar to the type that airport shuttles use. Add to that the fact that the recent summer´s rainy season, which ended recently, had more rainfall than the past four seasons combined. The first 20 or so km were fine, if bumpy, as we passed many estancias and saw all sorts of chickens and cattle in the road. Beyond that the road got a bit dicier as we continually looked over sinkholes caused by the rain that almost took the road out, but not quite. As the van slipped and slided its way through the mud we trusted our drive would steer us right.
Our driver: Mariano. A man in his 50´s who doesn´t speak English. He has a healthy pot-belly, round lips, round chin, thin legs, very few teeth and is one of the best drivers I now know. He navigated the road well and got us out of one jam where the van got stuck in nasty mud requiring several tries to un-stick ourselves via rocking the van back and forth using low gears and reverse.
Our guide: Mario. A biologist in his 40´s who speaks excellent English and is extremely knowledgable about wild life. He can set up his tripod with scope and focus it on a bird that I can´t see with my naked eye, in seconds. His first bit of advice: ¨"When using the bushes, please be careful as there are two kinds of poisonous snakes out here, rattlesnakes and a variation of the arrowhead snake that is silent and very aggressive."
When we finally arrive at the campground we are the only visitors in this huge park. Mario says we are lucky to see it due to its inaccessability and because few tours go here (apparently there are only two groups licensed to take trips into this park, ours, which hasn´t even accessed the park since February on a scientific trip, and one other guy). The park was founded when a farmer who lived near our campground delivered a log from his farm to Peron in the 50´s. Peron was so impressed by the size of the log that he immediately declared the region around said farm a nat´l park.
After setting up camp our motley crew headed out on a nature hike in hot, humid sun. Along the way Mario´s excitement was palpable - he clearly loves the wild, and while point out to us many animal tracks (including, deer, raccoon - and Allison found a puma print), birds, and animals (a large weasel & it´s treed baby was very cool), he clearly wants to see the elusive tapir. He is very excited when the path´s mud contains many tapir tracks.
Along the way, one of our Lithuanian friends begins to lag behind. Near the end of our 3-4 hour trek he looks weak and is complaining of fever due to what he believes is an infection he acquired in Bolivia a few days earlier. One down.
After returning to camp from the trek we find a nice fire set up by Mariano. Water is put on for tea and coffee. Mario makes us some very good Mate and passes it around in their ritualistic tea drinking way. Ian, the Irishman, takes the first sip, then Allison, then myself. About five minutes later Ian stands up off the picinic table, walks a mere three or four steps, and vomits. Later, during dinner, he does this again. And again, projectile style. Two down.
Mario says to us, "I´m afraid. This has never happened to me before". He´s speaking as a tour guide of course.
For dinner we have meat Argentine style. A giant slab of steak, ribs, chicken, pork sausage, and blood sausage complete our grill, and it is delicious. However, with two sick men retreated into their tents, much of it goes uneaten.
After dinner our driver takes us in the van to a lagoon in the dark where we silently stalk the elusive tapir. Mario has his spotlight at the ready and a headlamp that emits a red light that he can use to see mammal´s eyes, but that mammal´s cannot see. While we don´t find a tapir, the night sounds in El Ray are spectacular. The frogs emit sounds in many tones and sound like a guitar pick plucking the short tight strings on near the tuning pegs of a guitar (Allison thought it sounded like a xylophone and Mario described it as "tapping on bottles").
Sunday morning. Our Irish and Lithuanian friends emerge from their tents, both feeling much better, but neither 100%. After breakfast we head out for a four hour trek to a lovely waterfall with Mario pointing out deer and other wildlife along the way. We also passed several horses that belong to the ranger. Interestingly, Mario brings no water, a candy bar for himself only, and a knife that sticks out from his belt near his back. Allison and I thought the lack of supplies was a little odd given the heat and the compromised health of two of our party. He seemed unsure of how to deal with them, so didn´t deal at all.
At 3pm we load up the van and head home. All is well until we reach the extremely muddy portion of the road where we got briefly stuck the day before. The muddy portion is just after a bend, and beyond the bend should you go straight is a severe dropoff from a sink hole. As we approach the muddy portion Mariano slows down, observes the terrain, and guns it. The van lunges forward, rocks to and fro, and stops, wheels spinning. He´s able to back up, and tries it again. This time, as the van gets stuck it starts to angle away from the road and toward the drop off. All the while the wheels are spinning. Allison and I fear that the van will suddenly catch, pop forward, and, well, hope Mariano is quick with the breaks.
This happens a few times until Mariano, in frustration, spins the wheels long enough to overheat the van. We hop out to see our van with steam coming out of the radiator and hot water puddling underneath. The hood is popped and while Mariano tends to the van, Mario gets a shovel and makes a plan of attack. Apparently the van was bottoming out on the ridge between the two wheel ruts in the mud, so we decide to take that down. After Mario appears tired I take over the digging and complete the job. The middle ridge is now lower and all the removed dirt is in the ruts.
Mariano sees his opportunity, and now that the van has cooled off he jumps into the driver´s seat and starts the van. We scatter out of it´s way and don´t have time to tell Mariano that the van´s back door is still open, leaving our luggage vulnerable to spilling out. He sits for a few seconds after turning the key, and then goes. The van leaps into the muddy ruts, water sprays left and right, the van slows down, then lunges forward again. It´s in the ruts so doesn´t veer toward the sink hole, but the van continually nudges left, then right, but always and slowly forward, wheels spinning, mud flying. At one point the back left of the van drops and the rear tail light dislogdes so it hangs by a thread. About 10 seconds later, he´s on the other side. We all cheer, happy we don´t need to wait for a rescue vehicle.
From there it is a long, 3hr ride home. Everyone is quiet, and Mariano, clearly ready to be home, drives like an Argentine at high speeds. We arrived at our Salta hotel last night bug bitten, stinky, worn, and ready for a large dinner at a fantastic restaurant next door.
It is now 8am, Monday, and in an hour and a half we pick up our rental car and head south to wine country in Cafayate. After a night there, we head to Cachi for two nights, and on Thursday we fly to Buenos Aires for the last leg of our trip.
I have no idea what internet access will be like after today, but if I find a computer I´ll post updates.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
This weekend Allison and I joined three Lithuanians and one Irishman on a guided tour to El Ray national park, which is a three hour (technically) drive from Salta to the south and then the east. It was quite a weekend and I don´t have much time to write, so below will be a brain purge.
El Ray is very remote, only accessable by driving over 38km off the paved highway on a dirt road with no less than 7 river crossings accessable only by 4wd vehicles. This made for a very interesting drive given our vehicle was a 2wd van similar to the type that airport shuttles use. Add to that the fact that the recent summer´s rainy season, which ended recently, had more rainfall than the past four seasons combined. The first 20 or so km were fine, if bumpy, as we passed many estancias and saw all sorts of chickens and cattle in the road. Beyond that the road got a bit dicier as we continually looked over sinkholes caused by the rain that almost took the road out, but not quite. As the van slipped and slided its way through the mud we trusted our drive would steer us right.
Our driver: Mariano. A man in his 50´s who doesn´t speak English. He has a healthy pot-belly, round lips, round chin, thin legs, very few teeth and is one of the best drivers I now know. He navigated the road well and got us out of one jam where the van got stuck in nasty mud requiring several tries to un-stick ourselves via rocking the van back and forth using low gears and reverse.
Our guide: Mario. A biologist in his 40´s who speaks excellent English and is extremely knowledgable about wild life. He can set up his tripod with scope and focus it on a bird that I can´t see with my naked eye, in seconds. His first bit of advice: ¨"When using the bushes, please be careful as there are two kinds of poisonous snakes out here, rattlesnakes and a variation of the arrowhead snake that is silent and very aggressive."
When we finally arrive at the campground we are the only visitors in this huge park. Mario says we are lucky to see it due to its inaccessability and because few tours go here (apparently there are only two groups licensed to take trips into this park, ours, which hasn´t even accessed the park since February on a scientific trip, and one other guy). The park was founded when a farmer who lived near our campground delivered a log from his farm to Peron in the 50´s. Peron was so impressed by the size of the log that he immediately declared the region around said farm a nat´l park.
After setting up camp our motley crew headed out on a nature hike in hot, humid sun. Along the way Mario´s excitement was palpable - he clearly loves the wild, and while point out to us many animal tracks (including, deer, raccoon - and Allison found a puma print), birds, and animals (a large weasel & it´s treed baby was very cool), he clearly wants to see the elusive tapir. He is very excited when the path´s mud contains many tapir tracks.
Along the way, one of our Lithuanian friends begins to lag behind. Near the end of our 3-4 hour trek he looks weak and is complaining of fever due to what he believes is an infection he acquired in Bolivia a few days earlier. One down.
After returning to camp from the trek we find a nice fire set up by Mariano. Water is put on for tea and coffee. Mario makes us some very good Mate and passes it around in their ritualistic tea drinking way. Ian, the Irishman, takes the first sip, then Allison, then myself. About five minutes later Ian stands up off the picinic table, walks a mere three or four steps, and vomits. Later, during dinner, he does this again. And again, projectile style. Two down.
Mario says to us, "I´m afraid. This has never happened to me before". He´s speaking as a tour guide of course.
For dinner we have meat Argentine style. A giant slab of steak, ribs, chicken, pork sausage, and blood sausage complete our grill, and it is delicious. However, with two sick men retreated into their tents, much of it goes uneaten.
After dinner our driver takes us in the van to a lagoon in the dark where we silently stalk the elusive tapir. Mario has his spotlight at the ready and a headlamp that emits a red light that he can use to see mammal´s eyes, but that mammal´s cannot see. While we don´t find a tapir, the night sounds in El Ray are spectacular. The frogs emit sounds in many tones and sound like a guitar pick plucking the short tight strings on near the tuning pegs of a guitar (Allison thought it sounded like a xylophone and Mario described it as "tapping on bottles").
Sunday morning. Our Irish and Lithuanian friends emerge from their tents, both feeling much better, but neither 100%. After breakfast we head out for a four hour trek to a lovely waterfall with Mario pointing out deer and other wildlife along the way. We also passed several horses that belong to the ranger. Interestingly, Mario brings no water, a candy bar for himself only, and a knife that sticks out from his belt near his back. Allison and I thought the lack of supplies was a little odd given the heat and the compromised health of two of our party. He seemed unsure of how to deal with them, so didn´t deal at all.
At 3pm we load up the van and head home. All is well until we reach the extremely muddy portion of the road where we got briefly stuck the day before. The muddy portion is just after a bend, and beyond the bend should you go straight is a severe dropoff from a sink hole. As we approach the muddy portion Mariano slows down, observes the terrain, and guns it. The van lunges forward, rocks to and fro, and stops, wheels spinning. He´s able to back up, and tries it again. This time, as the van gets stuck it starts to angle away from the road and toward the drop off. All the while the wheels are spinning. Allison and I fear that the van will suddenly catch, pop forward, and, well, hope Mariano is quick with the breaks.
This happens a few times until Mariano, in frustration, spins the wheels long enough to overheat the van. We hop out to see our van with steam coming out of the radiator and hot water puddling underneath. The hood is popped and while Mariano tends to the van, Mario gets a shovel and makes a plan of attack. Apparently the van was bottoming out on the ridge between the two wheel ruts in the mud, so we decide to take that down. After Mario appears tired I take over the digging and complete the job. The middle ridge is now lower and all the removed dirt is in the ruts.
Mariano sees his opportunity, and now that the van has cooled off he jumps into the driver´s seat and starts the van. We scatter out of it´s way and don´t have time to tell Mariano that the van´s back door is still open, leaving our luggage vulnerable to spilling out. He sits for a few seconds after turning the key, and then goes. The van leaps into the muddy ruts, water sprays left and right, the van slows down, then lunges forward again. It´s in the ruts so doesn´t veer toward the sink hole, but the van continually nudges left, then right, but always and slowly forward, wheels spinning, mud flying. At one point the back left of the van drops and the rear tail light dislogdes so it hangs by a thread. About 10 seconds later, he´s on the other side. We all cheer, happy we don´t need to wait for a rescue vehicle.
From there it is a long, 3hr ride home. Everyone is quiet, and Mariano, clearly ready to be home, drives like an Argentine at high speeds. We arrived at our Salta hotel last night bug bitten, stinky, worn, and ready for a large dinner at a fantastic restaurant next door.
It is now 8am, Monday, and in an hour and a half we pick up our rental car and head south to wine country in Cafayate. After a night there, we head to Cachi for two nights, and on Thursday we fly to Buenos Aires for the last leg of our trip.
I have no idea what internet access will be like after today, but if I find a computer I´ll post updates.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao,
Mark
Friday, April 18, 2008
Ford Falcons in Argentina
Hola,
I mentioned the plethora of Ford Falcons in my last post. Here is good info on them in Argentina: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ford_Falcon_(Argentina).
Mark
I mentioned the plethora of Ford Falcons in my last post. Here is good info on them in Argentina: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ford_Falcon_(Argentina).
Mark
Random notes
Hola!
Today we get ready for our camping trip tomorrow which means we have to shop for a headlamp and long underwear. Then hopefully a trip to a museum.
A few random notes:
Today we get ready for our camping trip tomorrow which means we have to shop for a headlamp and long underwear. Then hopefully a trip to a museum.
A few random notes:
- They don´t use street garbage cans here. Rather, along the sidewalk are iron cages (I call them crow´s nests) about four feet off the ground that rest on a pole. People throw their garbage bags in the cages for the garbage truck to pick up. Some have described the act of the garbage men grabbing the bags and tossing them to another worker on the truck as the truck moves as a sort of ballet (author Gerald Durrell approx 1960).
- There are more Ford Falcons, circa I would guess 1965, than I have ever seen in one place. Oddly, their back end looks a bit differently from what I´m used to, but the front end is identical. I´m not quite sure why they are here (although they are described in one book as the car that was used to take the "disappeared" in the 70´s), but it´s odd and impressive that they´ve kept them running all this time.
- In the market where we had lunch the other day we observed what looks like three variations of lava for sale. When we asked about them via sign language and minimal spanish, the vendor showed us a ziplock bag of leaves. Turns out the leaves are coca leaves and the lava is Bica. The three colors are three flavors: licorice and two others I forget. You chew a leaf or two with the bica, and the bica breaks the leaf down which releases a stimulant. You´re probably aware that coca leaves are used to make cocaine. These leaves are technically illegal, but tolerated in small amounts. Word has it that tourists ought not buy any because tour buses are searched for them on a regular basis, and trying to get them out of the country can land you in very cheap housing (aka jail).
- We found a restaurant in Salta we really like called Don Jose. Don Jose is the owner and a stocky, 60-something artist with gray hair and a pony tail, and he made sure to greet us at our table on our first visit. It´s is a very neighborhood joint and both times we´ve been there we were the only tourists. Last night I had baby goat stew, which was the most expensive item on the menu at 20 pesos. Right now there are about 3 pesos to the dollar, which makes it a steal at less than $7. After each meal the waiter offered us lollipops. During both visits a man came in off the street trying to sell bags of coca to the customers. The Don Jose didn´t seem to mind a drug dealer (sort of, given the tolerance here) wandering in. Great place.
- Last night Allison heard a bag fall in our hotel room. At the same time I woke and swear I felt the room moving. We think we experienced an earthquake, but I need to confirm.
That´s it for now. Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao...
Mark
Thursday, April 17, 2008
I can now drive anywhere...
Hola!
About 30 minutes ago we returned from a road trip up north to Purmamarca, about 90km away from Salta.
With great trepidation I pulled our small manual transmission Ford something-or-other into the streets of Salta and I had a plan: tailgate like crazy. It´s the best way to get through the gazillion unmarked intersections. When the local driver in front of us edges out and goes for it, so do I. After one intersection we learn that our plan works like a charm. The car trying to pry between us just sits there and we gloat at our success in navigating the streets and the bikes and the motorcycles and the lack of lane dividers. After a few blocks we hit a big road that has stoplights, make a left on it, and with great relief head out of dodge.
Within about 10 minutes we´re out of the city, and in about half an hour highway 9 diminishes into a one lane road, though the highway continues to be two way. Another half hour goes by and we enter one of the curviest roads I have ever driven that is accompanied by steep drop-offs to our right. Imagine Chuckanut Drive going on for about 25 miles, but reduced to one lane with traffic in two directions and ledges the are not for those with a fear of heights. Add to that the occasional horseback riding pompas, a few goats, pigs, horses, cows, and bulls in the road, and you have yourself one of the most beautiful drives you can imagine.
After we emerge from the curvy portion above highway 9 once again becomes a sane route with two wide lanes and dividers. 20 minutes later we pull into a small town that´s not in any guide book for lunch called El Carmen. We park next to a school when all the children are out playing in their uniforms, which are white coats. They look like a flock of tiny doctors. We walked around the town square looking for food and, after takin a peek into a teen arcade that is dark, crowded with kids playing video games, and booming with halfway decent Latin percussion based pop, we head into Mia Pizza and get two delicious pies - Argentina is heavily influenced by Italy and pizza is everywhere.
With full bellies we get back on the road and after climbing to over 7000 ft hit our destination, Purmamarca, which is one of the most beautiful small villages I´ve seen. It has narrow streets and dirt roads, and looked down upon by gorgeous, colorful mountains. We find a small quaint room with a view of colorful mountains at a hotel run by a very nice caballero.
After securing our room we head north another 20 km to Tilcara for the rest of the afternoon. Here we visit old Incan ruins that lie among many cactus and below the colorful mountains. Next we drive 8km up an excruciatingly narrow, dirt, and (yes, again), one lane road, to over 9000 ft to view a canyon with the word ´Diablo´in it. However, when we arrive the sun is close to setting and I am out of my comfort zone with fear about the steep drive down and the dramatic cliffs and the impending lack of light. After quickly viewing the dramatic canyon we turn the car around and head down. One pickup with several locals blasts past us in the opposite direction like the road is a piece of cake. Shortly thereafter we part through a flock of goats being led down by its owner, and about 10 minutes later a sigh of relief is exhaled as we hit flat road.
This morning we trekked into the mountains behind Purmamarca to view the famous Cerro de los Siete Colores, a dramatic bluff of the moutain´s multicolored strips. You can see purple, green, orange, and many others. It is breath taking, literally and figuratively, given the effort to trek at over 7000 feet. We wandered through call sorts of cactus on the way.
After shopping and lunch, we turned back for the drive home, which was thankfully uneventful until we reached the urban Salta streets where I had to once again navigate the crazy driving while searching for a petrol station and then the Budget Rental office. All the while Allison frantically read the map guiding me along. A word of advice to newlyweds: don´t attempt to drive an Argentine city early in your marriage - it´s stressful. Once reaching our hotel we ordered a beer and let go of the stress by our hotel´s small and unused pool.
After a day of rest tomorrow we head out for a camping trip over the weekend in Parque Nacional El Rey and then get a rental car on Monday for a three day road trip south of Salta to Cafayete and Cachi, both of which are supposed to be beautiful.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao...
Mark
About 30 minutes ago we returned from a road trip up north to Purmamarca, about 90km away from Salta.
With great trepidation I pulled our small manual transmission Ford something-or-other into the streets of Salta and I had a plan: tailgate like crazy. It´s the best way to get through the gazillion unmarked intersections. When the local driver in front of us edges out and goes for it, so do I. After one intersection we learn that our plan works like a charm. The car trying to pry between us just sits there and we gloat at our success in navigating the streets and the bikes and the motorcycles and the lack of lane dividers. After a few blocks we hit a big road that has stoplights, make a left on it, and with great relief head out of dodge.
Within about 10 minutes we´re out of the city, and in about half an hour highway 9 diminishes into a one lane road, though the highway continues to be two way. Another half hour goes by and we enter one of the curviest roads I have ever driven that is accompanied by steep drop-offs to our right. Imagine Chuckanut Drive going on for about 25 miles, but reduced to one lane with traffic in two directions and ledges the are not for those with a fear of heights. Add to that the occasional horseback riding pompas, a few goats, pigs, horses, cows, and bulls in the road, and you have yourself one of the most beautiful drives you can imagine.
After we emerge from the curvy portion above highway 9 once again becomes a sane route with two wide lanes and dividers. 20 minutes later we pull into a small town that´s not in any guide book for lunch called El Carmen. We park next to a school when all the children are out playing in their uniforms, which are white coats. They look like a flock of tiny doctors. We walked around the town square looking for food and, after takin a peek into a teen arcade that is dark, crowded with kids playing video games, and booming with halfway decent Latin percussion based pop, we head into Mia Pizza and get two delicious pies - Argentina is heavily influenced by Italy and pizza is everywhere.
With full bellies we get back on the road and after climbing to over 7000 ft hit our destination, Purmamarca, which is one of the most beautiful small villages I´ve seen. It has narrow streets and dirt roads, and looked down upon by gorgeous, colorful mountains. We find a small quaint room with a view of colorful mountains at a hotel run by a very nice caballero.
After securing our room we head north another 20 km to Tilcara for the rest of the afternoon. Here we visit old Incan ruins that lie among many cactus and below the colorful mountains. Next we drive 8km up an excruciatingly narrow, dirt, and (yes, again), one lane road, to over 9000 ft to view a canyon with the word ´Diablo´in it. However, when we arrive the sun is close to setting and I am out of my comfort zone with fear about the steep drive down and the dramatic cliffs and the impending lack of light. After quickly viewing the dramatic canyon we turn the car around and head down. One pickup with several locals blasts past us in the opposite direction like the road is a piece of cake. Shortly thereafter we part through a flock of goats being led down by its owner, and about 10 minutes later a sigh of relief is exhaled as we hit flat road.
This morning we trekked into the mountains behind Purmamarca to view the famous Cerro de los Siete Colores, a dramatic bluff of the moutain´s multicolored strips. You can see purple, green, orange, and many others. It is breath taking, literally and figuratively, given the effort to trek at over 7000 feet. We wandered through call sorts of cactus on the way.
After shopping and lunch, we turned back for the drive home, which was thankfully uneventful until we reached the urban Salta streets where I had to once again navigate the crazy driving while searching for a petrol station and then the Budget Rental office. All the while Allison frantically read the map guiding me along. A word of advice to newlyweds: don´t attempt to drive an Argentine city early in your marriage - it´s stressful. Once reaching our hotel we ordered a beer and let go of the stress by our hotel´s small and unused pool.
After a day of rest tomorrow we head out for a camping trip over the weekend in Parque Nacional El Rey and then get a rental car on Monday for a three day road trip south of Salta to Cafayete and Cachi, both of which are supposed to be beautiful.
Thanks for reading. Ciao ciao...
Mark
Monday, April 14, 2008
Just like home, only way different
Hola from Salta!
Sunday evening - we arrive in Salta at 9pm and head to the restaurant that is named the best in all three guide books we´re using. It´s conveniently three blocks away. Allison scored with a delicious hunk of grilled steak. I tried to be healthy and went for the garlic chicken and potatoes. The menu (in English and Spanish) didn't mention the half-inch of butter in which the food swam when it arrived. Ugh. However, on the positive side, all this meat has cured my system of the inevitable, uh, digestive issues one can have when traveling. Score!
Monday (today) - Museums were on our list until we discovered they are all closed Mondays. Rats. Also, the weather is a breath of cold and cloudy fresh air, just like home. No more 90 per cent humidity in 90 degree weather and constant damp clothes. It feels good to wear our old clothes rather than the quick dry travel clothes.
We found the market today - just fantastic. It´s all under cover and covers a square block. Inside are a large number of food stands, butchers, spice sellers, and other vendors. All are eager for our business and we´re approached constantly. We gave our business to the stand where the woman who directed us to the bañyo works. Two tamales and two empanadas at a stand, all for just a few dollars. Afterward we found many other things, including cocao leaves, which are illegal to bring across any borders, & the charcoal you chew with it to crush it (in plain, salt & anise flavor).
Again, the driving here amazes us. They care not a wit for pedestrians as Allison found out when the large city bus that was at a stop decided to lunge forward to within a few feet of her while she was in the crosswalk. Her jump confirmed that she has very good reflexes. I am constantly studying the intersections to see how they work so that we´re ready when we rent our car in a few days: no control signs, no indication of one way streets and constant games of chicken.
Currently it is 3pm and the city shut down an hour ago for their siesta. It is amazing how quiet the city gets as all the shops shut down (save for restaurants) as the population retreats for a few hours of nap and food.
Ciao ciao for now...
Mark and Allison
Sunday evening - we arrive in Salta at 9pm and head to the restaurant that is named the best in all three guide books we´re using. It´s conveniently three blocks away. Allison scored with a delicious hunk of grilled steak. I tried to be healthy and went for the garlic chicken and potatoes. The menu (in English and Spanish) didn't mention the half-inch of butter in which the food swam when it arrived. Ugh. However, on the positive side, all this meat has cured my system of the inevitable, uh, digestive issues one can have when traveling. Score!
Monday (today) - Museums were on our list until we discovered they are all closed Mondays. Rats. Also, the weather is a breath of cold and cloudy fresh air, just like home. No more 90 per cent humidity in 90 degree weather and constant damp clothes. It feels good to wear our old clothes rather than the quick dry travel clothes.
We found the market today - just fantastic. It´s all under cover and covers a square block. Inside are a large number of food stands, butchers, spice sellers, and other vendors. All are eager for our business and we´re approached constantly. We gave our business to the stand where the woman who directed us to the bañyo works. Two tamales and two empanadas at a stand, all for just a few dollars. Afterward we found many other things, including cocao leaves, which are illegal to bring across any borders, & the charcoal you chew with it to crush it (in plain, salt & anise flavor).
Again, the driving here amazes us. They care not a wit for pedestrians as Allison found out when the large city bus that was at a stop decided to lunge forward to within a few feet of her while she was in the crosswalk. Her jump confirmed that she has very good reflexes. I am constantly studying the intersections to see how they work so that we´re ready when we rent our car in a few days: no control signs, no indication of one way streets and constant games of chicken.
Currently it is 3pm and the city shut down an hour ago for their siesta. It is amazing how quiet the city gets as all the shops shut down (save for restaurants) as the population retreats for a few hours of nap and food.
Ciao ciao for now...
Mark and Allison
Sunday, April 13, 2008
From wet falls to the airport
This morning we woke early and went back to the Iguazu National Park to do the Adventure Tour we missed out on due to the protests. I find it odd cramming events in on the day of a flight, but the timing worked out perfectly.
At 10am we were on a blow-up raft floating down the river in the jungle. We saw more tropical and colorful birds (including both black and white Garuda and an Anhinga), a hallucinogenic plant that two hikers used in a salad a year or two ago causing them to get lost for two days, many orchids, bamboo, and more. We were not far from the actual falls and could see the mist in the distance. Back in the 20's a tour guide would row a boat to the edge of the falls and frantically row against the current while the tourists looked over the edge. That ended when one tour guide lost his battle with the river sending the entire party over the edge. Fortunately, we were plenty far from the edge.
The float was followed by a four-wheel drive 8km tour through the jungle which didn´t do much for either of us - the only specific flora/fauna pointed out by the guide was an endangered palm tree. The coolest thing about it in my opinion was the old-fashioned army-green truck we rode in.
Lastly we jumped aboard a speed-boat draped in waterproof ponchos and life preservers. We motored up to the falls at fast speeds going up the rapids. Quite fun. The driver slowed down and allowed us to take in the beauty (albiet with the sound of the boat in the background) from below (two days ago we saw the same falls from above). For the finale he motored us into one of the huge falls twice, both times completely drenching us. The ponchos were mostly for show. Huge fun, if a bit inconvenient.
From there we boogied uphill in massive humidity in drenched clothes to be picked up by our driver to take us to the airport. After a quick change of clothes in the airport restroom we were off to board our plane to Salta. That was about 8 hours ago. I am now writing from our very clean and quaint hotel in Salta. It is 9pm and we are just in time to grab dinner at all of Argentina´s normal dinner time of 10pm.
Oh, and the driving here. Good Lord. I was hoping it would be better in a small town, but no. Stop signs don´t exist and right of way goes to the one with the biggest desire (or size) to get through first. And lanes in the road? They don´t exist, or if they do, they are purely for show.
Thanks for reading,
Adios for now,
Mark
At 10am we were on a blow-up raft floating down the river in the jungle. We saw more tropical and colorful birds (including both black and white Garuda and an Anhinga), a hallucinogenic plant that two hikers used in a salad a year or two ago causing them to get lost for two days, many orchids, bamboo, and more. We were not far from the actual falls and could see the mist in the distance. Back in the 20's a tour guide would row a boat to the edge of the falls and frantically row against the current while the tourists looked over the edge. That ended when one tour guide lost his battle with the river sending the entire party over the edge. Fortunately, we were plenty far from the edge.
The float was followed by a four-wheel drive 8km tour through the jungle which didn´t do much for either of us - the only specific flora/fauna pointed out by the guide was an endangered palm tree. The coolest thing about it in my opinion was the old-fashioned army-green truck we rode in.
Lastly we jumped aboard a speed-boat draped in waterproof ponchos and life preservers. We motored up to the falls at fast speeds going up the rapids. Quite fun. The driver slowed down and allowed us to take in the beauty (albiet with the sound of the boat in the background) from below (two days ago we saw the same falls from above). For the finale he motored us into one of the huge falls twice, both times completely drenching us. The ponchos were mostly for show. Huge fun, if a bit inconvenient.
From there we boogied uphill in massive humidity in drenched clothes to be picked up by our driver to take us to the airport. After a quick change of clothes in the airport restroom we were off to board our plane to Salta. That was about 8 hours ago. I am now writing from our very clean and quaint hotel in Salta. It is 9pm and we are just in time to grab dinner at all of Argentina´s normal dinner time of 10pm.
Oh, and the driving here. Good Lord. I was hoping it would be better in a small town, but no. Stop signs don´t exist and right of way goes to the one with the biggest desire (or size) to get through first. And lanes in the road? They don´t exist, or if they do, they are purely for show.
Thanks for reading,
Adios for now,
Mark
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Rumble in the Iguazu Jungle
Hello from Argentina.
Time is passing quickly and it feels like we´ve done so much, yet it´s only day four of our trip (and our 1 week anniversary!).
(note - this is off the cuff so please excuse spelling and grammar errors)
Day 1 - we arrived in Buenos Aires at about 9:30am and reached our hotel, Gran Hotel Hispano, on Av. de Mayo. Within an hour of check-in we were off sight seeing. Allison and I both agreet that BA reminds us of Bucharest. Absolutely insane drivers (they have the highest percentage of fatalities in auto accidents in the world here), beautiful and unsightly buildings mingled together, and more litter than expected. Unlike Bucharest, they like to protest here. On our day of arrival we were caught up in a large protest/parade with most people wearing green and lots of drums and noise makers. We think it is related to transportation, but are not sure.
In the evening we meet up with David Ehrich and his daughter, whom he is visiting. After a cervesa at Cafe Tortoni, which is a few doors down from our hotel and where many if BA´s intellectual elite such as Borges were regulars, we head by taxi into an unknown neighborhood in search of a tango restaurant recommended to David. Unfortunately, after much asking with rudimentary Spanish, the place could not be found, so we chose a very nice little bistro with a soccer (aka futball) theme for beef on a stick, large salads, and wine. David and his daughter Ana treated us very well.
Day 2 - Fly to Puerto Iguazu. Arrive at Iguazu Jungle lodge where our balcony literally enters the jungle. We both revelled in the slow pace of the town. Here the temperature is hot, the air humid, and the population small. Our dinner at a well recommended seafood restaurant, La Rueda, did not disappoint.
Day 3 - Yesterday. The day we go to the Iguazu Falls National Park. The day we have to get up pre-dawn in order to bypass the protest. Yes, another protest. This one for the local schools which are in such a state of disrepair that classes have been canceled for the past month. In Argentina, protesters know how to get attention. Here, they blocked the road between the falls (and airport) and the town. We managed to drive through it at 7:15am; as we passed the protest there were many adults and children met with police and riot gear. The protesters attempted to block the road, but could not. Our driver wiped his brow with relief, but by 8am the road could no longer be driven.
It´s amazing the effect the protest had. Many events in the park were closed because employees could not get to work (I felt disappointment akin to when Space Mountain was closed at Disneyland when i was young) and the park was very sparsely populated by those who managed to get there early or come from the Brazilian side (the falls stradle the argentine-brazilian border).
We walked all over the park, through the jungle, around the falls, and back again in 97 degree and humid conditions. I was moist the entire time. In the park we saw: parrot-like exotic birds, lizards, coatis (looks like a mix between an anteater and a racoon), a million butterflies, a young Broad-snouted Caimen, large tropical fish, turtles, and more. We also saw a trantula mere feet from our hotel door, but that´s not in the park of course.
By three pm we were exhausted, thirsty, damp, and ready to hit the pool. However, the protest was still going on thereby trapping us at the park. For hours. We heard all sorts of conflicting stories - it will end at 5pm. No, it will end at 6pm. No, they will let cars through for 15 minutes once an hour. No, they will let cars in one direction through for half hour, then in the other direction for half hour. Whatever the case, all stories were consistent in that both sides had a traffic jam of cars many kilometers long that were going nowhere, most of them either tourists or in the tourist trade.
The driver of the bus that brought us to the park was in touch with those in the know, getting frequent updates of the conditions which we were watching on tv at the same time. There were burning tires, speaches, tears, yelling, and high emotions. Most of the locals we spoke with hoped the protest would work because they agree that the school conditions are indeed very poor. By about 4pm we heard that a politician was flying in and would arrive at the protest at 8pm to try to quiet things down.
Our driver was associated with our hotel and felt badly for us being trapped in the park (they took a fun speed boat home to avoid the road but weren´t allowed to take tourists with them) so he offered us a free room at the luxurious, though insanely ugly, Sheraton that is located in the park. However, all we wanted was to be in our own room with our clothes. We reached a compromise where the Iguazu Jungle Lodge paid for our dinner, return taxi, and arranged a shower for us so we could return well fed and unsmelly. They went above and beyond the call of duty.
Our taxi was to arrive at 9:30pm, though at that time the word at the Sheraton was that the protest was still going. Finally, at about 10pm a flood of cars and buses arrived. Hooray! The protest was finally letting cars through. One busload of travellers all missed their flight yesterday and spent the afternoon with their luggage in the hot weather mingling outside their bus watching the protest.
At 10:30 we called a taxi and were home in half an hour (after a 15 minute wait at the protest site).
Day 4 - Today: rest. Our first day of sleeping in since at least a week before the wedding. Also, rain. Thunder and tropical downpours. Allison and I spent the afternoon talking with the local hotel staff, playing ping-pong and pool and learning how to drink yerba mate like the locals (dramatically more bitter than what we get at home). We also learned that the protest worked and a deal was signed today, ending the road blockade, making me wipe my brow in relief knowing that getting to the airport tomorrow will not be a problem.
Tomorrow - the adventure tour on a 4X4 through the jungle and raft on rapids that takes us to the Devil´s Throat, which is the largest of the many falls, then a flight to Salta. This is what we wanted to do, but could not, yesterday due to the tour´s employees inability to reach the park.
Until our next meeting with the internet, adios!
Mark and Allison
PS: We have identified at least 10 different butterflies and 6-8 birds in our three days up in the jungle. The butterflies range from bright blue to turquoise and orange to large (~4-5" across) yellow & black swallowtail butterflies. There is even a black & white one with "88" on the side (called an "88 butterfly"). The birds range from plush crested Jays, flycatchers with bright yellow bellies and black bands across their eyes, to some sort of hummingbird (there are apparently 30 species in the area), to green ibis and black vultures. No Toucans yet but we are hoping maybe tomorrow!
Time is passing quickly and it feels like we´ve done so much, yet it´s only day four of our trip (and our 1 week anniversary!).
(note - this is off the cuff so please excuse spelling and grammar errors)
Day 1 - we arrived in Buenos Aires at about 9:30am and reached our hotel, Gran Hotel Hispano, on Av. de Mayo. Within an hour of check-in we were off sight seeing. Allison and I both agreet that BA reminds us of Bucharest. Absolutely insane drivers (they have the highest percentage of fatalities in auto accidents in the world here), beautiful and unsightly buildings mingled together, and more litter than expected. Unlike Bucharest, they like to protest here. On our day of arrival we were caught up in a large protest/parade with most people wearing green and lots of drums and noise makers. We think it is related to transportation, but are not sure.
In the evening we meet up with David Ehrich and his daughter, whom he is visiting. After a cervesa at Cafe Tortoni, which is a few doors down from our hotel and where many if BA´s intellectual elite such as Borges were regulars, we head by taxi into an unknown neighborhood in search of a tango restaurant recommended to David. Unfortunately, after much asking with rudimentary Spanish, the place could not be found, so we chose a very nice little bistro with a soccer (aka futball) theme for beef on a stick, large salads, and wine. David and his daughter Ana treated us very well.
Day 2 - Fly to Puerto Iguazu. Arrive at Iguazu Jungle lodge where our balcony literally enters the jungle. We both revelled in the slow pace of the town. Here the temperature is hot, the air humid, and the population small. Our dinner at a well recommended seafood restaurant, La Rueda, did not disappoint.
Day 3 - Yesterday. The day we go to the Iguazu Falls National Park. The day we have to get up pre-dawn in order to bypass the protest. Yes, another protest. This one for the local schools which are in such a state of disrepair that classes have been canceled for the past month. In Argentina, protesters know how to get attention. Here, they blocked the road between the falls (and airport) and the town. We managed to drive through it at 7:15am; as we passed the protest there were many adults and children met with police and riot gear. The protesters attempted to block the road, but could not. Our driver wiped his brow with relief, but by 8am the road could no longer be driven.
It´s amazing the effect the protest had. Many events in the park were closed because employees could not get to work (I felt disappointment akin to when Space Mountain was closed at Disneyland when i was young) and the park was very sparsely populated by those who managed to get there early or come from the Brazilian side (the falls stradle the argentine-brazilian border).
We walked all over the park, through the jungle, around the falls, and back again in 97 degree and humid conditions. I was moist the entire time. In the park we saw: parrot-like exotic birds, lizards, coatis (looks like a mix between an anteater and a racoon), a million butterflies, a young Broad-snouted Caimen, large tropical fish, turtles, and more. We also saw a trantula mere feet from our hotel door, but that´s not in the park of course.
By three pm we were exhausted, thirsty, damp, and ready to hit the pool. However, the protest was still going on thereby trapping us at the park. For hours. We heard all sorts of conflicting stories - it will end at 5pm. No, it will end at 6pm. No, they will let cars through for 15 minutes once an hour. No, they will let cars in one direction through for half hour, then in the other direction for half hour. Whatever the case, all stories were consistent in that both sides had a traffic jam of cars many kilometers long that were going nowhere, most of them either tourists or in the tourist trade.
The driver of the bus that brought us to the park was in touch with those in the know, getting frequent updates of the conditions which we were watching on tv at the same time. There were burning tires, speaches, tears, yelling, and high emotions. Most of the locals we spoke with hoped the protest would work because they agree that the school conditions are indeed very poor. By about 4pm we heard that a politician was flying in and would arrive at the protest at 8pm to try to quiet things down.
Our driver was associated with our hotel and felt badly for us being trapped in the park (they took a fun speed boat home to avoid the road but weren´t allowed to take tourists with them) so he offered us a free room at the luxurious, though insanely ugly, Sheraton that is located in the park. However, all we wanted was to be in our own room with our clothes. We reached a compromise where the Iguazu Jungle Lodge paid for our dinner, return taxi, and arranged a shower for us so we could return well fed and unsmelly. They went above and beyond the call of duty.
Our taxi was to arrive at 9:30pm, though at that time the word at the Sheraton was that the protest was still going. Finally, at about 10pm a flood of cars and buses arrived. Hooray! The protest was finally letting cars through. One busload of travellers all missed their flight yesterday and spent the afternoon with their luggage in the hot weather mingling outside their bus watching the protest.
At 10:30 we called a taxi and were home in half an hour (after a 15 minute wait at the protest site).
Day 4 - Today: rest. Our first day of sleeping in since at least a week before the wedding. Also, rain. Thunder and tropical downpours. Allison and I spent the afternoon talking with the local hotel staff, playing ping-pong and pool and learning how to drink yerba mate like the locals (dramatically more bitter than what we get at home). We also learned that the protest worked and a deal was signed today, ending the road blockade, making me wipe my brow in relief knowing that getting to the airport tomorrow will not be a problem.
Tomorrow - the adventure tour on a 4X4 through the jungle and raft on rapids that takes us to the Devil´s Throat, which is the largest of the many falls, then a flight to Salta. This is what we wanted to do, but could not, yesterday due to the tour´s employees inability to reach the park.
Until our next meeting with the internet, adios!
Mark and Allison
PS: We have identified at least 10 different butterflies and 6-8 birds in our three days up in the jungle. The butterflies range from bright blue to turquoise and orange to large (~4-5" across) yellow & black swallowtail butterflies. There is even a black & white one with "88" on the side (called an "88 butterfly"). The birds range from plush crested Jays, flycatchers with bright yellow bellies and black bands across their eyes, to some sort of hummingbird (there are apparently 30 species in the area), to green ibis and black vultures. No Toucans yet but we are hoping maybe tomorrow!
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