so it's been awhile

Salta Travel Blog

 › entry 4 of 7 › view all entries
Well, i don't know if i mentioned any of this yet, or it might just be a repeat for some, but i feel I'd like to bring everyone up to date. So the beginning of my journey really started in Argentina in Iguazu Falls. If you ever see them, you'll see no point at all in visiting the Niagra Falls. Those things are pitiful in comparison. Also, i learned the lesson to not forget your rain jacket, i was sopping wet in the end, and it took far too many days for my jeans to dry. There's not much else in Iguazu so we all picked up and took a 15 hour bus ride to Resistencia where we camped in the Choco Forest. It was pretty sweet to get off the Gringo Trail. After a 5K hike to get to the camp site, we found no one else there other than the Ranger. The only thing worth mentioning that she informed us about was to run if it started raining, because all the spiders fall from the trees. Let's just say I'm really glad it didn't rain. After a few days of living off of rice and lentils, oh and a plethora of crackers, we headed back to civilization. That would bring me to Salta, Argentina. This is the part in the trip where we finally got our clothes washed. Though I have to say that the lavandaría completely lagged in getting them back, us three girls weren't left with much to wear. I was decked out in some hideous parachute khakis, a dress, and my fleece, while Liz sported a pair of red soccer shorts, a red shirt, and her red hat, plus a lovely flannel jacket. Leslie found herself with nothing but a pair of parachute pants that hover above her chocos and a strange ensemble of shirts, all with some lovely stains on them. We were a lovely sight-- a restaurant wouldn't even serve us. So after a big ¨f-you¨ we found ourselves at something that reminded me of the food court at the malls. In our lovely attire, we got to spend the day with a hundred or so gauchos. Real gauchos. It was some celebration for some head honcho gaucho that died defending the city of Salta against the Spaniards. This all required a 3 hour horse ride to the monolith, then a 3 hour horse ride back. I don't think my ass will ever recover. Ever. My life since that has been nothing of excitement, just running around the city trying to find some warm clothes for the Salt Flats in Bolivia because it gets about -15°C at night. My plans are pretty iffy, but the future holds a 3 day hike in the salt flats, a 7 day hike through Bolivia, and a 7 day hike up to Machu Picchu (we're too stingy to pay for the Inca trail). Also, I may find myself in Santiago, boarding the Chilean Andes. We'll see. I think this is where I'll end my novel, and hopefully I'll hear back from some of you. Also expect a few more updates from me before I return.
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photo by: wvijvers