Feliz Navidad!

In all our route-planning we had wanted to try be somewhere culturally unique over Christmas, especially since we would be traveling in a catholic country. Timing was tricky since we needed to get back to La Paz before New Year to go on a trip into the jungle, so we had three days over Christmas to spend at Lake Titicaca. We had opted to stay on the Island over the more touristy town of Copacabana, for two days, in the hopes that we would see how the islanders would be celebrating, and would spend our last day in the bustling lakeside town. We expected rustic homes, donkeys everywhere, farmed land, hot sun, Inca ruins. We never factored in a white Christmas!

We woke up to find our hostel and the surrounding island covered in white hail! It was magnificent completely confusing in the same breath. We wandered about in the white for a bit before getting too soaked and were needing a caffeine fix, and over breakfast realised that if the rain continued we would be holed up the entire day. We were completely bummed at this prospect purely because this was our exploring day – the day we planned to do the long walk around the Island to the museum and ruins, since we would be catching the ferry back early the next morning to town. You cannot control the weather so we just decided to to use the time to really put our feet up for the first time in three weeks. As luck would have it within an hour the weather cleared enough to warrant us putting on light rain jackets and heading out into the drizzle to see the island, and we got even luckier when the sun eventually made an appearance, so we ended up getting the best of both a cold wintery Christmas and a sunny one…Bizarre!

Happy Christmas!

Yip Christmas lunch.

Yes. Pizza places in abundance. Strange? Very, but you could take your pick from about 40 different spots all run out of locals’ homes!

With the sun out and we got all fired up to do the trek to the other side of the Island; so we stopped off at the hostel ditched our big jackets, and headed off down the path that was typically walked by devout pilgrims…Pilgrimage should have been the alarm bell…but more on that later.

We were so happy to see a structure that looked pretty ancient (we secretly hoped it was the infamous ruin complex that would mean the end of our journey but alas, as we neared we realised that it was not)…we had been walking for about an hour and a half, and the subtle uphills along this path were killer! We spent much of the walk panting, or breathlessly passing out a rock for a few minutes, it was insane. I think I would have just been better prepared mentally if I had known how tough the walk would be on my body due to the extreme height, but I must say that the grueling walk was worth the incredible views afforded along the way. You also get a pretty good vantage of the locals going about their business.

Victory! The end of the island is in sight…

Moeg!

The sun was sinking fast, and we still had at least a two hour trek home, so we decided to head back before dark fell. the thought of being out in the dark and cold did not sound like a way to spend the evening. That and the fact that we were starving were good motivators to abandon the sight-seeing.

Needless to say we scoffed down our Christmas dinner. Willie tucked into his pizza while I made my way through my fish dish all while being serenaded by a troupe of traveling buskers! An eventful Christmas it was.

The kind hostel owner showed us a short-cut down the other side of the Island- a very steep downhill that would have obliterated us had we tried to ascend here with our packs- and we took a scenic ferry around a part of the island we otherwise wouldn’t have seen.

What an incredible place and what a Christmas. We left feeling like we had experienced another world, and realised how little we had missed the rush of the cities, the flashing coloured lights, the internet cafes and crazy drivers! We would have loved to explore more of the ruins, and visit the museum, but in a strange way just taking in the space, the way we did was extremely satisfying and after the walks up and down Isla de Sol we felt like we had conquered!

Copacabana awaits!

xx

Onward and upward to Lago Titicaca!

From the breathtaking scapes of Southern Bolivia, we ventured northwards to Lago Titicaca, Lake Titicaca, to explore this mythic place regarded by the Inca as the birthplace of the Sun, and is home to several temple and ruin sites. My grandparents visited this region in the sixties/seventies and the images of the deep blue water and terraced farmlands intrigued my little mind back then, so to be driving there and seeing those very textures for myself was something so special. I often wondered how much things had changed from when they visited because little seemed different from those old photos. We were visiting for three days, the first two, namely Christmas eve and Christmas day would be spent on the Isla de Sol and the last evening we would be sleeping in Copacabana, a vibrant town used as a ferry point to the infamous Inca island.

Our journey began with an all-night bus trip to La Paz from Uyuni – the bumpiest bus ride of my life – I was convinced my teeth were going to rattle their way out of my jaw. After arriving in La Paz around 7, we bought a quick cup of coffee from one of the traders in the bus station; I wished I had snapped a pic of the stall – it felt like a window into granny’s kitchen, and our cafe con leche was served to us in red ceramic mugs…it was strangely comforting after a long bus ride. A brush of the teeth and change of pants and we were off on our next four hour trip to the Lake.

Traffic in the La Paz gives Jozi’s jam a serious run for their money.

Ferry crossing on our journey to Copacabana…this was a little hair-raising, watching your bus, with your beloved bag stowed neatly on board, mount a wooden boat…but it got safe and sound to the other side!

Being greeted by gods, has an effect:)

Our final ferry for the day…from Copacabana to the legendary Isla de Sol.

Original inca-built steps, one of the first of many ruins we were to encounter on this little island.

Smiles are hiding fluttery hearts, weak knees, sad lungs trying with all their might to suck in oxygen as we climbed the two hundred steps at 3800km above sea-level- altitude is again not something to be taken lightly.

Our newly-made friends in the background were scampering up and down the steps doing our route about five times over as they came to cheer us on and fed us herbs to help our little bodies cope with the strain and lack of oxygen  on the hour long walk to our hostel at the top of the hill – sad gringos we were.

Our hostel was so worth the trek, with rooms with lake views, quaint breakfasts, and good old fashioned local hospitality – they did not mention how rigorous the ‘walk’ up to the hill is and at the time I was cursing, but staying on the port-side of the island gets pretty touristy. If you are looking for laid back and rustic, this is it - Hostal Inti Kala

All the huffing and puffing was suddenly worth it when we ended the day looking over this. And sipping on this.

The braying of a sleepy donkey and this view put us to sleep. The end to a long day. Little did we know what we would be waking up on Christmas morning! But that is for another post!

Happy Friday friendlings, hope you are planning exciting adventures somewhere over the festive season!

xxx

a bundle of grey

hello lovelies! I am back to introduce to our newest little furry addition to the family. She is all nibbles, and cuddles and her name is India. Dear Husband woke me up on Sunday, my birthday with this darling little bundle of grey and she has charmed her way into our hearts! She is a little Weimaraner, all 6 and a half weeks old. Isn’t she a treat!

We are smitten, our Ginger, and Most Beloved Cat, is not so much, but we are working on that one. A little sniff her and there anbribery by tuna fish and catnip seem to be slowly working!

I couldn’t resist sharing her gorgeousness with you, so Happy Puppy Friday wonderfuls!

Tupiza to Uyuni 4X4 Salar tour, Bolivia – part 2

Nestled beneath my cosy flamingo print blanket, I heard Edgar padding toward our door. H knocked so loudly I still jumped! ‘Vamos chicos!’ Dix minutos!’ We upped an at-ed it and were soon all piled into the car to head off for another day of natural wonders….

Voila Bolivia’s proudest wonder ‘Laguna colorada’ The rust red water is truly this colour- the white at the centre of the lake are ice floes, because do not forget we are at high altitude….

Exploring the Arbol de piedra, or tree of stone through a lens

We marveled at the huge rock formations in the siloli desert

Snow capped mountain, glacial lake, and flamingos all in one go….our jaws were on the floor.

Miss our little photo-taking friendlies! We had too much fun on this trip!

Ha! Edgar was critting our photos:) Muy impressionante came out of his mouth quite a bit, so we were happy- and man does he get a kick out of his jumping photos! All this while our darling cook laid out a lunchtime feast for us!

Vicuna spotting!

And my first view of an active volcano – the plume of smoke to the far left of the mountain is evidence!

volcanic rock wave…

Just in case you needed proof:)

One of the first salars, or salt flats we were to cross…

the salt hotel that we stayed at was quite something – the walls, bed bases, tables, seats, even the decorations are all made from salt! It is incredible to think that the entire structure is made from this mineral.

It started pouring with rain – the storm we were avoiding earlier had caught up with us and it did not bode well for seeing the flats the next day. When the salar is covered with water it makes it incredibly difficult to navigate the little over 10000 square kilometre area! Beside the fact that saltwater is highly corrosive…so we held our breath hoping for it clear soon!

Saltwater spray….

Fortunately for us, we were able to get around perfectly well, thanks to our knowledgeable guide, his great sense of direction, and his drive to help his chico’s see the beauty of his country. We kept in close range of the other vehicles, in case of breakdowns and went cruising across these majestic white scapes….we did not experience a single breakdown on our trip, in fact Edgar had to stop to help others out every now and then. He looked after his vehicle like it was gold- amazing!

If only these photographs could convey how icy that layer of water was!

Sunrise on the Salar

Incahuasi Island in view – our breakfast stop – an entire island covered in ancient cacti on the Salar…

Edgar sticking his hands into one of the ‘eyes’ of the Salar – two open source point of the flats…

Edgar shows off some mean directing skills…

The trip ended in Uyuni, and aftre saying a choked up good-bye to our favourite Bolivian, we booked tickets for the overnight bus and decided to wile away the next six or so hours with wanderings through the small not-so-scenic town, and with a pitstop involving beer and pizza, before getting on the supposedly treacherous night bus up to La Paz…

A brewing storm and a train cemetery….mmmm

This trip left us completely enchanted with Bolivians and their exquisite country, and to top it off we made two awesome friends that live halfway across the world. Here to you finding Edgars on your travels! Our next lap begins in the mysterious city of La Paz…

xx

Tupiza, Bolivia….and the magical 4×4 salar tour (part 1)

We pressed the wad of bolivianos into our driver’s hand. Even this large tip did not seem worthy of such a generous man. The lump in my throat threatened to well up to the point of no control. He gave each of his ‘chicos’ a bear hug and before I could turn back to wave, he was in his trusty car and driving off. Who knew four days could bond human beings, who do not even speak each others’ language, so deeply.

I think often of dear Edgar, his jolly laugh, his serious driving face, and his unfaltering commitment to get his chicos to each viewpoint first so we could snap the best photos sans gringos.  He was the guide of our 4×4 tour of the Bolivian Salar, or salt flats. The trip begins from Tupiza, a town about a treacherous and bumpy four hour ride from the border town of La Quiaca, and ends in Uyuni.

Excuse the blurriness…after queuing for good on four hours, I was terrified of being kicked back to Argentina for trying to take photos in a government facility, but wanted a snap nonetheless…It must be said that crossing a military border in a foreign language is not for the fainthearted!

Voila Villazon, the Bolivian border town…

Those maize snacks are more-ish!

We arrived after dark from spending a good couple of hours queuing at the border. Tupiza felt like something out of a film: green and amber light spilled into the street from bar and shop windows, families ate dinner in their kitchens with music playing full blast from a small radio, stray dogs wandered the cobbled dimly lit streets, men in hats and leather boots tramped past us.

We washed down the exhausting bus ride with a litre of beer and some of the most delicious food we had had on our trip at a great Mexican/cult-film-inspired restaurant. It is pretty surreal to eat a fajita to a 70′s bond film playing on a tinny television in the background, in a restaurant filled with Bolivians and then to pay the equivalent of R8 for the experience. We took an instant liking to the new country, and couldn’t wait to see what the next couple of days had in store.

The Alamo…if you magically find yourself in Tupiza- head on over, you won’t be sorry!

Tupiza is also infamous as one of the nearest town to the notorious site where Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid met their end, so the western theme is pretty apt!

Voila Hotel Mitru – we really enjoyed staying over here, great service, good breakfast – we got scrambled eggs hoorah! and the rooms were some of the biggest we had our whole trip. I also loved feeling like we were staying in an apartment block- it completely satisfied my South American fantasy:)

Low and behold we met dear Edgar, and through a stroke of fortune, would be doing our four day trip of the Salt flats with the two Brits we met at the border – we arrived at our hotel to be told by Anna, an operator for Tupiza tours that the other couple that was grouped with us couldn’t make it in time to Tupiza. This typically means postponing the trip so we raced off into the night to find Rachel and Dave to see if they by any chance wanted to hang out in a 4×4 for four days with us – they thankfully were keen and so our trip was back on. Tupiza tours truly was amazing- Anna was so helpful and had tried to move heaven and earth to find other people to join us. We had researched our trip inside out but still weren’t sure which tour company would be best, and so ended up booking with whomever seemed to be most reputable at the time. I would wholeheartedly recommend them and if you can ask for Edgar, he will make your experience even more special.

Leaving town…seeing this first vantage we knew he trip was going to be amazing.

A delicous meal of home-made humitas, sandwiches, and fruit! No food concerns here!

A staggeringly beautiful drive-by…

Our newly made friends -rooney and rach:)

Edgar moaning about the young drivers’ crazy antics on the dirt road- he was an ambulance driver in La Paz, before he moved to do these outdoor trips- we felt so safe with him – besides his great driving he was the type of man you wanted to be stuck in the outback with – he was the ultimate nature guide.

tea for four:) Our cook Nilda, was also by far the most organised, we generally ate first and our food looked the tastiest compared with the two other groups we saw – she was also just a sweetheart through and through and had a soft spot for us, her chicos:)

The trip consists of four days, three nights and you travel in a 4×4 with a driver and cook. You stay in accommodation in villages along the way, spending the final night at a certified Salt hotel on the brink of the Salar or salt flats. The flats are the largest in the world and waking up before the sun rises to witness this spectacle of nature on the last day of a once-in-a-lifetime experience really makes for a grand finale. Over the other three days you travel from Tupiza, to a series of incredible coloured glacial lakes, geysers, hot springs, deserts, ruins, active and inactive volcanoes and experience the harshness of life at high altitude. All along the way, your guide, if you get a goodie, will try to maximize the experience: Edgar made us get up earlier than everyone to get out to places first so that our photographs were unspoiled by rowdy groups of tourists, or he would re-route to show us a special site that he reckons we would be interested in. His english was minimal, but we made our way along pretty well with ‘sign-language’, phrase books and what Spanish we knew. We laughed, we cried, we spoke a lot of rubbish, we teased each other, we nursed each other through the effects of altitude sickness, we ate ourselves into little balls with all the delicious food that was made for us, we took more photos than we knew how to count and left with memories that are too many to share.

Early start with a visit to the ruins of an ancient silver mining town

Getting up before dawn meant we experienced this magnificence all on our own.

Has to be one of Dave’s more scenic pees….

Yay for us….from left to right…Rachael, Dave, the Infamous Edgar, moi, Sweet Nilda, and Dear Husband:)

And here we discovered Edgar’s total understanding of the tourist phenomenon…he knew that deep inside we love doing random jumping photos, and he would facilitate it. He was so pro, he was asking for the multi-snap function on our camera’s …what a keeper:)

We all felt pretty pukey after jumping up and down at 4855m above sea-level but it was too much fun to look through in close up afterward!!!

hot spring bliss!

In the distance the border of Bolivia and Chile…The desert of San Pedro De Atacama lies just beyond, but the arid conditions can certainly be seen here…

Laguna Verde in all it’s glory, presided over by the towering Volcano Licancabur…

Desierto de Dali… Dali’s desert…these surreal volcanic rock formations are scattered all over this particular stretch

Taking on the sulphurous air at the Sol de Manana Geysers

How beautiful is the volcanic mud! We were mesmerised…

From the stinky humidity of the steaming geysers we passed snow on our descent! The wonders of high altitudes…this is the highest point of the trip reaching 5300m above sea-level.

Day two ended huddled around a wood stove eating a delicious dinner of slow roasted root vegetables and tasty soup. We were exhausted after seeing some of the most spectacular scapes of our lives, and from fighting the effects of mild altitude sickness, so after mucking about with some long exposures, and providing gringo entertainment for the locals we crawled into bed.

See what happens over the next two days on our Salar adventure in the next post:)

xx

To the rainbow hills! Hello Tilcara, Argentina…

tired eyes but bright hearts…off to the station to catch the early bus…

Hungry for the smell of a small town, after lazing away days in Salta, we decided to give up our paid up last night in the pretty city to head into the rainbow hills, the Quebrada de Humahuaca. Some flurried research led us to book a two and a half hour bus ride to Tilcara, a sleepy but picturesque pueblo in the infamous World Heritage region.  Most people head to Purmamarca, the largest town in the region, but we were aching to get a sense of the quieter side of the area, and I was completely intrigued by the promise of a nearby hillside cemetery. I have a not-so-secret love of graveyards, tombstone messages, and gaudy plastic flowers, so there was no way we were passing up this photo opportunity. Fortunately for me Dear Husband quite enjoys an amble between tombs, himself, so the two of us got front-row top-story bus seats in anticipation of the adventure to come.

If there are ever bus seats for which you queue, it must be for the typically insect-spattered front-rowers on this ride. The bus departs early in the morning from Salta – it is the beginning point of the journey, so the usual insect cemetery that is the front window, has been removed for your viewing pleasure, and, you are driving northwards so you aren’t bombed by the early sunshine either – double score! These glorious seats affords a full view of the glory of the colored rock of the seemingly endless Humahuaca canyon.

Naturally, having such a gorgeous landscape around us, and with no strange-shaped chico’s head in our way, we went ballistic, snapping away at the mountains, the road, the road and the mountain, feet on window, feet, window, and mountain….ooh and then a car: moving car, feet, mountains….we must have annoyed the whole bus! And the two and a half hour journey flew by.

Disembarking, we felt like we stepped into another time zone. It was the blistering hot and we, in our spontaneity, had not reserved a bed anywhere and hoped to chance upon a good bed. My compulsive need to be organized does not like this too much, especially when it requires walking around a sloped town for half an hour to find the backpackers that was rumored to be special. After doing a good super-lost, speak-wobbly-espagnol-donde-esta-la-casa-los-molles routine several times we found a friendly gent on his porch who pointed us in the right direction: up the long road to the big shadow. We stepped inside the house and saw the hammocks with the view over town, with the Rainbow hills in the background – bags were dropped and home we were. What a great place to stay – many travelers like us arrived for a night and have stayed for years…and after two minutes of being here, we could have easily done the same -given I would need a steady supply of good coffee, good wine, good books, my cat, and a slightly improved understanding of Spanish:)

After a cooling shower, we headed back down the hill to the bicicleteria to hire bikes for the afternoon. We were greeted by a curious man tinkering away in the back of his shop. He didn’t take anything from us as insurance for the return of his bikes and didn’t seemed too bothered about deciding on a return time. This is what we love about small towns, that genuine belief in the good of people, the kindness and the complete lack of fuss. It makes me even more compelled to ensure we look after the bikes, and return them when we said we would.

It was 25 pesos well spent. I huffed and puffed all seven kilometers to Maimara the hillside cemetery. You cycle along the main road but the scenery is spectacular: a couple of kilometers out of town you get to stop and take in the majestic view of the Inca fortress Pukara, either side of the road is hemmed in by these rainbow hills, and small villages are scattered along the way. We passed roadside shrines, llama herders, children playing in the sand…it was such a great way to see things after having only bussed about the last few days. We felt pretty invincible!

Our endpoint, the cemetery, was worth the pedal – I thought I was fit until I hit the steep rises so I was all to happy to finally see the plastic flowery graves in the distance. From far it looks like a miniature shanty town, eclectic, colorful, textured, and as you walk closer the triple-storey structures become family mausoleums, the trees are giant ancient cacti growing between graves, the roads become narrow walkways, the casual air becomes shrouded in a hallowed grace.

I love the stories that are told in the ceramic gravestone portraits, in the fading plastic floral arrangements, or in the sometime humorous inscriptions – people’s lives are summarized by a stone and space in the earth.  The Argentinians, are hugely respectful of their dead, and as we wandered about we were both quite overwhelmed by the love evident in the humbly decorated graves.

Once back in town we made a dash to catch the last open moment of the Inca fort, because we would be leaving early the next morning. The fort is however a kilometer out of the other side of town, up a very steep hill. We didn’t quite factor this in, and I nearly died trying to head up the cobbled inclined road. Dear Husband sweetly did circles-of-eights around me as I walked uphill with my bike. So we got there in time to look at the fort from far, peer into the cactus garden, and get back on our bikes to go home. We had had so much luck on our trip missing this wasn’t too bad and it was a sight to behold just from where we stood. Maybe it is all in my head, but there was a definite energy in this place, perhaps I was a little drunk on the idea of how old this site was, and how incredible it was to be standing looking at a hill completely covered in cacti that were metros tall and hundreds of years old, but I felt pretty in awe, and was so glad we decided to stop off in this place.

Riding home we met a pack of curious little boys who kept running after us trying to jam a plastic bottle into the rear wheel of our bikes. At first I was completely freaked out, and kept trying to pedal faster to escape them, but Dear husband, being Dear Husband was keen to see what they were up to and realized they were making ‘motos’ out of our bikes…motorcycles – the sound of the wheel riding up against the plastic bottle gave off the sound of a bike’s motor! The fact that they were running alongside us yelling ‘ moto! moto!’ should have been a dead giveaway! And after all the fun and games, they just wanted to chat to these funny Gringos, no money or sweet exchange involved. Viva small towns! Viva!

The rest of the evening was spent dropping off our bikes, snacking on a street vendors’ barbecued cheese empanadas, hunting out supplies for dinner and cooking up a storm while drinking too much wine in the rustic kitchen of Casa los molles! A good day indeed, and a great way to end the first leg of our venture through Argentina.

The next few weeks were going to be spent heading into the antiplano of Bolivia, talking more bad Spanish, and bonding with two awesome Brits over altitude sickness, jumping photos and mastering the art of being good ‘choices’. Man I miss it all, just thinking about it!

Reverse graffiti-ing! Right here at home!

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wow it has been a while my lovelies!

Well here is a link to make you smile at the end of a long day.

How amazing!

Check out the article here!

Salta, la linda.

Salta, in the seven o’ clock morning sunlight, was breathtaking and had us amped to explore- especially after being cooped up for good on a day. The city is nestled at the foothills of the Andes, renown for it’s beautiful colonial architecture surrounding landscapes, offering great out-of-town adventures to winelands, estancias and horse ranches as well as many adrenaline sporting activities like abseiling, white-river rafting etc. Since we had been in the country all of five days and had another six weeks to go we didn’t jump at the activities offered in and around town. In retrospect I wish we had because it is such a unique region – many of the estate homes were ones I discovered later, were the ones I wanted to see! We are also prone to running around towns like mad people so we had decided to take this round a little easier. And boy did we.

We dropped our backpacks off at our hotel El Alcazar and went wandering the Spanish-influenced town. Truly one of the prettiest cities we saw, many of the houses and shops have original painted ceramic tile-work decorating their facades, along with the elaborate steelwork and potted gardens. The houses spill onto beautifully treed squares that are filled with town folk at lunch-time snoozing in the shade, feeding the flocks of pigeons or posing for a family snap with the local photographer.

Parking styles 101

Then there are the exquisite coloured churches! I have such a thing for churches and these were some of the most interesting – Salta is home to a pastel pink cathedral, a gold and ox-blood red church, Inglesia San Francisco and then the Convento de San Bernardo, home to Carmelite nuns. So I was in a church paradise.

And then this became empanada paradise. We stumbled upon the main market in town – another favourite thing of ours, and after pacing the aisles filled with cheap clothes, curios, plastic holy communion cake decorations and vegetables, we found the hot food hall!!! We were famished from our long walk and the thought of beer and little pies made our tummies rumble. The problem is picking a stall – everything smells amazing in there and we forced ourselves to do one whole circle before picking a table. All the food is prepped in front of you, and the families work non-stop – grannies roll out pie circles, father’s are barbecue-ing meat, the kids are doing well-rehearsed sales pitches to get you to sit down…it’s quite an affair. And once you have sat down and have stuffed delicious food in your face, sitting and watching the workings of the market over a Quilmes is quite brilliant, and well worth flying across the Atlantic ocean to witness

One thing we totally underestimated was the insane heat- we are Africans, how bad could it be? We had heard rumblings of siesta but had no real understanding of it until we reached Salta. And after devouring pastries and beer our little bodies were humming for a nap. As we made our way out of the maze of market stalls we noticed how quite everything suddenly was. Lights off and locked up, no one was around. The walk to the hotel was just as sobering. Gone were the popcorn and juice sellers, the newspaper stands were folded up and silent, shops were in hibernation. The sun beat down and we ended up almost running home to escape the baking heat. It is also insanely eerie to suddenly be two of barely a handful of people around in an entire town! It did feel mildly apocalyptic to my overactive imagination. So Dear husband and I sought refuge in our room: with the fan going full-tilt and the breeze making our curtains bellow we snoozed away the afternoon.

Our hotel totally captured my imagination when we were booking online. Black and white checkered floors, high ceilings, small windows, a rooftop terrace, it seemed to me to be the ultimate stereotype of an old South American hotel. We came across very few places like this, and being rather old it was rather creeky and strangely designed. The staff were helpful, it was always clean and tidy, most certainly is not the spot to stay if you want to meet loads of travelers but if you are looking for a charming nook to escape the heat of the streets, and to get a decent night’s sleep it’ll do. And their breakfast pastries, from the nearby bakery are delicious!

The evening heat woke us up and after a refreshing shower we hit the pavements again, in the direction of the cable car, to go get our fix of seeing the city from up high-Cerro San Bernardo Teleférico.

Behold the magnificent Inglesia San Francisco…I think it may just be my favourite church in Argentina!

How incredible are the concrete ‘curtains’!

Door detail…swoon!

That was followed by more wanderings with our cameras in hand, stumbling upon more churches, and a maze of bustling streets, and ended with us drinking beer on our rooftop listening to the sounds of a jazz concert in the nearby square.

Our next day in Salta started at the crack of dawn, to get that early morning light. The rest of the day was spent lazing: mooching between coffee shops, the odd museum, a Christmas tree exhibition, buying more market food and people watching. Then siesta-ing. And then asado-ing (man, did we braai some deliciousness on our rooftop!) and then malbec drinking.

Convento de San Bernardo in the morning light…there was such an amazing quiet in the streets at this time.

Our venture into the bar district of town was hilarious. You could spot us gringos a mile away. After filling our faces on barbecued mielies and steak we headed out just after eight o’clock in the evening thinking we’d find a couple of people doing after work drinks. Dinner is at ten in the evening, but we thought there must be spots open for pre-dinner drinks?! Wrong! We did laps round balcarce street waiting for the restaurants to finish putting out their tables and chairs! And when we eventually sat down to have some wine we were the first patrons for a good hour. Thank goodness we had a good malbec to keep us company. And by the time we tootled past all the locals eating dinner we didn’t have a care in the world:)

Note to newbie selves: eat dinner later.

For relaxing and enjoying the light, the food, the bustle of the city, the rooftops, the picturesque town square, for wine, for empanadas, for crafts, for cable-car rides for siestas, Salta, sure is one special place, and a pretty one at that.

xx

the 23-hour epic – Puerto Iguazu to Salta

As will become clear over the next couple of travel posts, a lot of time was spent on buses between towns and cities. Initially the long days confined to one seat seemed daunting but you will be surprised how many games you think of to play along the way, how much you can waft between sleep and i-pod playlists and how much Spanish you can learn from watching dubbed blockbusters.

So began our move to the north west of Argentina into the Salta province. Only one bus company does the trek across the country from Iguazu to Salta and it happens to be double-lux. Our faces fell at the price of tickets, since we had been under the illusion that long-distance bussing was the good-value transport option for backpackers. The fuel crisis and strikes across the country had made land travel more expensive over the time we were on the continent but it was still cheaper than most flights, so we did the dirty, and handed over wads of pesos to do the 23-hour bus ride. It was one of the best bus rides of our travels! Our seats were like luxury lazy-boys, we got the most amazing food, the on-board facilities were spotlessly clean and our host (much like an airline host) had some admirable balancing skills. So it ended up being money well spent, and as we were to discover later (on a 36-hour bus trip) paying that whole lot extra was a lifestyle investment! By the time we peeked over the hill to see the pretty city in the early morning light we were refreshed and ready to hit the streets, unlike on the cheap-o option later where we wanted someone to knock us out with bats just to get some decent sleep!

A colour co-ordinated schnackeroo

With 18 hours left what else to do but play with your crackers!

Not photographed here is the industrial size snack pack we got filed with cereal bars, crisps, cheeses – this pack kept us going for good on three weeks – if you need a reason to justify the bus ticket let it be the mega snack pack!:)

We were real happy to be woken with hot cafe and the promise of stretching our little legs in the picture perfect city of Salta!

x

curry deluxe!

Have we found a gem for you! If you have not been before you better make some concrete plans to get your fill of some delicious North Indian cuisine. Banjaara in Linden has been open a couple of months now where the Jazz cafe used to be, next door to where Mama Tembo’s- corner 4th avenue and 7th street. They have done a great job of creating a colourful atmosphere and the food is divine. Easily one of my favourite curry spots in Jozi at the moment.

Mmmmm, my mouth is watering just looking at this again!

We started with vegeatble samoosas, then had the chana masala, and paneer palak with rice and heavenly paratha! I wished aI has snapped pics of the interior but we were too busy stuffing our curry-hungry little faces:)

So go get you some comfort food:)

xxx