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Published: July 11th 2010
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We arrived in Villazon from Tupiza at 11:30 pm the night of Jan 19th. We were totally green to this town. We didn't know its layout and we had made no arrangements. Big mistake. We should have learned after Uyuni but we didn't. We wandered the streets a bit checking out the hotels but they were all booked. The streets there were wider and even less inviting for wandering late at night than the streets in Uyuni. We took a taxi to a hotel mentioned in our guidebook. We knocked, but there was no answer. It was after midnight by then and we had no solution to our sleeping problem. Would we sleep in the bus station? Would it even be open? I figured that we would be safer sleeping in the surrounding hills than in the streets. We were walking away when a girl finally opened the door and called out to us. They had a room! It was a decent enough place, and we were happy to be able to get a little sleep that night.
We woke early the next day to deal with the Argentine border. We were waiting in the line up at the Argentine
border for over two hours. Security was tight. They hand-checked all luggage coming through.
The differences between Villazón on the Bolivian border and La Quiaca on the Argentine border were noticeable. Though both countries have had their misfortunes, Argentine was now significantly wealthier. There were well-maintained parks on the La Quiaca side, green with irrigated grass. The meat in the simple lunch we had was of better quality than what we normally found in the small eateries in Bolivia or Peru, and we had paid for our bus tickets with a credit card - a convenience that was almost entirely absent in Bolivia.
A tourist traveling in a relatively poor country would always feel some background tension. Even the most cash-strapped backpackers had more disposible income at hand than most of the local population. It was normal that foreign tourists were seen as means of getting some cash. Its petty, but this tension does tire you. Although not as cheap as other places, we were hoping to find this tension ease in Argentina. With a sizable middle class, many of whom were vacationing, we were hoping the merchants and scam artists alike would give us a pass and
target the well-kept Argentinians instead!
We headed directly to Salta, a town 400 km south of the border with about half a million people. Although within the Andean chain, Salta is at a modest elevation of 1100m. We would be leaving the high altitude areas for good.
Our bus trip took about 7 hours. This was our first of several long-distance bus trips within Argentina. Other travelers had told us that compared to Bolivian buses, the Argentinian buses were luxurious. While more expensive, they were indeed the most comfortable we have taken through Latin America. The bus seats were comfortable (some reclining), the bathrooms were clean and functional, and the bus service often included a meal, and sometimes alcohol. This first bus trip was memorable for two strange incidents. First, about an hour into the trip, we are stopped, offloaded from the bus, and sent through a military checkpoint to have our luggage searched. This was in spite of the fact that most of the passengers had just been searched at the border two hours before! We were barely looked at, but the poor Bolivians had their materials thoroughly searched, and were given a tough interrogation. They were
Mixed grill - Yummm!
A vegetarian's nightmare! mainly interested in drugs and drug paraphernalia, including the lowly coca leaf. Thank goodness I had gotten rid of mine. I was told they were not illegal to possess in Argentina, but were illegal to carry into the country from somewhere else. Further along the road, we were stopped again, this time by a protest. A group of people had barricaded the road with tree limbs and tents. We didn't know what the protest was about - if we had heard about it on the news, we may have even sided with the protesters - but alas, in our position we had a selfish interest in seeing the thing end.
Our bus was parked for maybe an hour when a police van pulled up. Even before the police arrived, the protesters had removed the barrier. We were waved through by the protesters themselves. Once the traffic was gone, I looked and noticed the protesters reforming the barricade! It seemed they had a deal worked out the government: as long as you don't remove our barricade we'll lift it every now and then to let traffic through. I wonder how long this arrangement had been working? Very civil, and more likely to keep others in sympathy with their cause!
We were late again when we arrived in Salta, but this time we had arrangements with the Backpacker's Hostel. They were completely booked for the next night, so we moved to the charming Hostal Terra Occulta the next morning. We took it easy most of our first day in Salta. Our activities were limited to taking pictures in the Plaza 9 de Julio, and eating. Argentina is known for its great barbecues, and we were anxious to dive in. We had a 2-person parilla (BBQ/grilled meat) at a downtown place for lunch. They served meats imaginable and otherwise from the three animals that had conquered the world: cow, pig, and chicken. They gave us some standard offerings including beef steak, chicken breast, pork chop, and pork and beef sausages. Then they threw in the rest of the cow: heart, intestine, blood (in a sausage), kidney, and lung were all our plate. Being happy carnivores, we enjoyed our parilla, and did not fight too much over the bounty. However like lions trying to get through a water buffalo, we were eventually overcome by the bounty. We became bloated, lethargic, and irritable. We took the remain cow parts back to our hostel. Neither of us felt like supper, and we finished the parilla next morning for breakfast.
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