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Published: December 5th 2007
Two days in Tupizain an impromptu camp space… lots of evidence of flowing water… assured a high spot….
Could not get to the ‘desired bush camp’ because the road had been washed out …
Next morning packed everything up and tried again … no go… tools were taken out and the truck group in for road alteration. Took the side of the road off. Luckily the shale shattered at every blow of the sledge hammers and pick axe. The hard part was spreading the debris.
Once the work was deemed satisfactory the truck tried to manoeuvre past the gapping hole.
Truck too big. Truck too heavy. Road too soft. Truck almost careens off road and into the eroded hole!
Fast retreat. The local workers had difficulty getting their small truck to the other side of the erosion. Truck group helped push the vehicle thru the soft shale debris.
All regrouped, put away the tools, returned the workers pick axes and made the way back to the previous nights ‘bush camp’. Re-erected the tent and spent another night in a pleasant space but apparently not as beautiful as the one that was out of reach.
Tupiza in
Moving the Hill
Is this legal? Wouldn't happen in Canada without consequences.the meantime is a small town. A river and railroad run thru it. There are numerous Italian Restaurants serving pizza. None of them serve breakfast. Plenty of internet stations offer slow access. The Mercado Central looks big from the outside. Having to meet the truck at Ortega’s Car Wash did not leave time to enter and get lost.
Along the street to the car wash appeared an array of vegetable stalls. None had avocado. All had lots of other dusty choices.
Not finding the truck at the appointed time we made our way to an internet spot and spend a few hours pecking away at the keys. The need too walk back to a ‘bush camp’ whose location no one was sure of presented a small challenge. Telling the taxi man “take us towhee the road is washed out” was one possible solution. . By chance one of our splinter group saw the truck and the need to find our way back in a son to be dark day was averted.
The truck never did get washed … not this day or the next. So we drove into Argentina, “where they are most particular” ........
Another night
at the impromptu ‘bush camp’. This night there was no threat of rain. The first night it had rained a bit but it did not hamper the cooking or the sleeping.
As per usual, near Tupiza we broke camp early, headed for the town to pick up the group that had gone on the 3-day Salar de Uyuni Tour and then started the drive to the Argentinian Border and the town of Salta.
The two days in Salta were spent tenting in the rain and mud. Thankgodthere was running water and time to wash the tarp and fly of the tent. Had I known the truckwas not leaving tilll1PM I would have washed my tent too. It is still bespattered with Salta mud!
Upon arrival good showers were discovered and I particularly liked the hole in the floor type toilet. Spare me the germ infested luxury of sitting on a toilet seat!
The Municipal Camping has a huge swimming pool that is slowly filling. The past weekend, according to the Nederland man in a huge Mercedes Truck, 8.000 people had been in the park. Definitely locals … are there 8.000 foreigners in northern Argentina?
Day one
Cow Corral
It was an odd topsey-turvey town with many things incongruently out of place. at Salta is a free day. We walked into town because none of us had Argentinean pesos.
Avenida de Chile continues to be a less than exciting street for a morning stroll. No bank machines; no coffee shops; no high end display windows. The best view to be had is the vintage car seller. Can not resist entering the place and taking pictures, asking prices and just plain oggling the specimens. The Nederland woman gave me a map of the city and it is a breeze to find the interesting part of the town.
The HSBC Bank will only give 300 Pesos out at a time. That means a service charge of $5 every time I take out a hundred dollars. Opt for changing the $100 US I have in my pocket. It takes longer than expected but it does glean me the info that false notes are to be looked out for even here in Argentina.
By the time I have pesos in my hand I am also clutching my rain poncho. It has started to rain and if the colour of the sky is any indication, it will not be stopping soon.
Buy myself a
Road Turns Into Lake Bed
More than once getting out of Bolivia turned into a journey along a river bed. newspaper, find the Van Gogh Café, sit at a seat in the back and enjoy a double café negro, plus a Milanese sandwich deluxe. All around me the babble of men’s and women’s voices add to the ambiance of a true café. Old friends are meeting for an espresso. Two people are discussing business over scads of printed paper. An elderly lady is enjoying coffee with her daughter and small child. It is just an extremely pleasant way to read the paper and observe life in Salta town.
A wander thru the arches of the buildings around the Main Plaza bringst me to a small shop displaying Peruvian flap caps. Once inside the shop I amamazed at the originality and variety of very arty objects. I leave $200 there, buying lovely pieces of jewellery and cards to be framed. I am sorry I was not to be able to buy the dolls behind glass and the ceramic pieces in black and green.
I go into one Museum, gratis, to view the pre-Columbian collection of Manuel Grotti. Ninety-seven pieces of exquisite pottery depicting the various phases of everyday life from an era and culture long past.
Suddenly the guard
cmesto tell me the museum is closing. I think it must be late in the day. Actually it is only two o’clock. Once outside I see everything isclosing down and it is raining.
Walk till I find an Internet. Stay there till five. Because it is still raining, go to find the grocery store. Buy too much! Do buy the essential toilet paper and kitchen towels.
Trying to get a taxi in the rain is the same no matter where you are in the world. Good thing I have figured out that you need to hail a cab under the taxi sign. This is the same as in Quito.
out of the infernal rain. Did not want to look inside my tent. Did not until after I had taken a hot shower.
Then came the surprise. Good thing I had bought a package of three paper towels. One roll went ot sop up the water inside my tent!
One end of the pillow was soaked plus the top end of the sleeping bag. Had to make the best of a wet situation.
By ten no one had returned. I stopped being the night watch
The Tropic of Capricorn
Missed the Tropic of Cancer! Watched vigilantly for this line on the road! and went to my bag. Only heard one voice coming back but after recognitin dropped off to sleep again not to awaken until eight. Thankgod the rain had stopped.
The tent had been set up close to the truck , on sand. Who knew it would rain all day and all night and when ready to take down the tent after two night’s sleep it would be packing pounds of mud and sand.
I washed my tent fly and tarp. The tent had to be set on end to dry out before being packd up. The splattered mud was only just brushed off the bottom of all four sides.
I had literaly slept in a puddle. Good thing the sleeping mat kept me off the deepest and wettest part of this puddle.
We were to remain at the camp site until one a) to await the departure of the horseback riding group and b) don’t know the reason for the delay … maybe to catch up on sleep because of a late night out?
At one o’clock we left Salta town for Salta Adventure … Disfruta la Adventura!
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