Advertisement
Published: April 4th 2009
Edit Blog Post
Was traveling with a friend from Peru for a few days in Bolivia when he said to me, "Hey, Pedro. I´m going to Argentina today. Want to come?" Never been there before... "Vamos!" So on a whim we went to Argentina for the next leg of the adventure. Omar (de Peru) and I started our adventure in the Salt plains of Bolivia. When we crossed the boarder we had enlarged our entourage to one kid from Denmark and two girls from Australia. We were becoming a very interesting travel group.
We took the overnight bus from the frontier to Salta, the nearest big city in Argentina. The ride was as comfortable as could be until about 4 in the morning hit and we were pulled over for a drug raid. They chucked all the bags out of the bus and lined people up next to them. Then they would turn their bags upside down and just dump everything out. Right before our turn came one of the senoir officers came over and pulled us all a side. He coldly looked at our passports. Then coldly looked at our faces. Then warmly said, "Ok, you can go back on bus. Thanks
for your time and paticience." It´s such a lovely way to start a new country.
Getting little sleep if at all that night, we arrived in Salta (which means Jump in Spanish) at 7 in the morning. The five of us found a good hostel and settled down. Now Salta was the most distinct place I´d been to yet. I was use to patchy Latin pueblos that had lots of characher but little class. Argentina was the complete opposite. Although still Latin, this was like walking into some modern day city in Europe. Nice shops, clean streets, dyed hairs, fancy clothes. It was really just another world. After some travel maintenance (wash your clothes, do some interenet, find some food) it was suggested that we go bungee jumping, if only for the fact we were in a city called "Jump". I had never really given much thought about bungee jumping except for the fact that it was sort of dangerous if you didn´t do it with a serious group. But when I was told it would only cost $20 I was sold.
Through bussing, walking, and hitchhiking we arrived to la puente to find our challenge. You remember
the movie
Ferris Bueller? Well, remember that guy that works at the parking garage that who takes the Ferrarie and says, "Don´t worry. I´m a professional."? That was this guy. He was watering the plants for the local patio bar when he came over. His question "So you boys want to jump or something?" launched our bartering into an aggressive match. Which is, you know, such a great idea to have the guy aggitated with your price who will then have your life in his hands. But once it was all settled I was the first to be strapped up.
The jump was 130 feet and there were two options. 1- Jump out from the bridge so that you swing out more, but you won´t touch the water. 2- Ever so slowly fall straight foward and dive right into the water. For some reason I thought the second option was scarier so we had to go with that. It´s surprising how quick they can get you ready. Before I knew it I was just standing at the very edge with my hands up. Our vigiliant instructor said, "Ok, listo man. Just, like, go whenever." Now the trick is to
be very zen buddhist about it and
clear your mind. And then you just fall without a pause and before you know it you´re soaking wet bouncing up and down with a big stupid grin on your face. Easy as pie! I highly recommend. It´s so choice.
When we came back to the hostel, the Australian girls were gonna head off and we met some Argentinan girls going our same way. So with a little swap we were on our way. Mode of transport-- hitchiking. We were told that this was the country to do it cause of its safety and hospitatlity. The girls went on ahead with a taxi (wussies) and the guys (how macho) stood back to hitch a ride. Five hours of waiting in the sun and zero luck. Not a single truck stopped. We had three opportunities to pay for a ride but we were too prideful and cheap to play like that. When 6 o´clock came by, we decided to call a taxi and give up. Omar went to the nearest shop to give them a call. Just when he went in I caught a truck and it stopped. It stopped! Oh happy day!
Throw everything in the truck. Got all the bags? Ok great let´s go.... Ah crap, Omar! Get Omar Get Omar! They´re gonna leave! And of course Omar took his sweet time coming back to the truck. By the time he came out of the shop the truck was already inching foward trying to leave. But of course, with tested patience, they waited until Omar was inside.
The ride from Salta to Cachi was one of the most beautiful I have ever seen. And from the back of a pick-up truck it was even more real. We saw jungle, cloud forest, mountains, plains, and deserts with wild donkeys in just a few hours. With big smiles we met up with the girls in Cachi. The next week was filled with the same sort of routine. Wait around for 5 hours until we catch a ride. We stayed at one of the Argentinean girls´ house along the way then continued on to Cafayate. Slowly we all went our separate ways. The Dane went east. The Peruano went south. One Argentinean girl stayed west. And the other Argentina girl and I went back North to Salta.
I will say that Argentina
has the most unique form of Spanish I’ve seen. It’s more distinct than Peruvian Spanish than Peruvian Spanish is to that of Spain. Different words, expressions and pronunciations. For example, they pronounce their “y”´s like “che” or “cha” (Hence the source of his nick name, ´Che´ Guevara). So “pollo” isn’t “po-yo” but “po-cho”. I have no idea why. Maybe it’s the Italian influence or more likely it’s the pride of the country to make the language their own. Takes some getting use to. That was the Argentinean Adventure so stay tuned for the return to Bolivia.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.147s; Tpl: 0.013s; cc: 7; qc: 47; dbt: 0.0695s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.1mb
Karen
non-member comment
one of the argentinians...
just excellent. you couldn´t have say it better. I enjoy that experience too. see ya around the world, my friend.