We haven't exactly been slumming it over Christmas whilst staying in Salta. Salta itself is second only to the capital, and to miy mind deservedly so.
And The Del Vino hotel majors in local wines; we have been working our way through the bottles of torrentes, a local speciality.
Hope you have all had a very festive time - see you in 2013.
We have been Kidnapped, or been made subject to Extraordinary Rendition.
Yesterday we continued to drop down this massive alley following the Rio Grande, and went to bed in a historic hacienda complete with 70' veranda overlooking the beautiful garden.
Overnight we were made the subject of Extraordinary Rendition. The fancy term for being kidnapped.
This morning we woke up in England.
I am not kidding, the landscape, the vegetation, even the weather - it rained all day - was English.
I realise that will garner little sympathy from the waterlogged UK residents, but for us it was rather a shock. We rode through land which could have been taken from just outside Devizes, or the New Forest, even the Quantocks at one stage.
It freaked me out.
On the 18th I wrote that we were 'falling off' the alti plano. Two days later and we are still falling off it. Although we will only lose some 2500mts overall, the trick is that the gradient is just steep enough to let you cruise along at between 20k and 30kph, but shallow enough to prolong the ride. Es perfecto!
As we are ahead os schedule to reach Salta, where we will spend a few days over Christmas, we are just taking our time and enjoying the scenery, which since entering Argentina has also risen quite a few notches. Es benito!
Sam from Topsham asks;
"Dave,what music are you listening to on your trip?"
That's a good question, Sam.
Although I only very occasionally listen to my iPod, there are times when it just seems the right thing to do. The most recent occasion was on the Salar, when I did what any Englishman would do; brew a cuppa and take it out to lie down on the salt plain, looking up at the stars. For a time I enjoyed the total silence and unadulterated night sky. Then I slipped on the tiny plastic blimps that pass as earphones these days, and listened to.....
What can I say? We are all Children Of Our Time.
(Editor; what he has not admitted to is that the other track that features highly when a chill-out sound is required is Sailing by Christopher Cross. Not as cool as Floyd but one that always hits the right spot).
Today we 'fell off' the alti plano - but only as far as 3000mts. Since 8th November we have been at 3,500mts or much higher. I think being on the alti plano will be similar to banging your head with a tin tray for an hour; not until you stop will you really know what it was like. Only once we leave it properly will we be able to know what it was really like.
Already there are some obvious changes with just this simple altitude change; the colour green reappears on the colour palette; although the sun is hot, it is not tattoo removal hot; trees return to the scene, when the wind blows you are not mindful that it will become a sandstorm or other major disruption to your travel plans.
It is as though the alti plano was anti-lanscape, like anti-matter.
I have a new found respect for mountaineers who climb at high elevation without oxygen - it must be tough up there. But can anyone explain this? Whilst a sprint up some steps will still leave me - if not exactly gasping - reaching for breath, biking up a 3000' climb causes no issues in the breathing department? I have read similar comments from other bikers, so it is not just us two. Perhaps it would be easier if mountaineers cycled up Everest rather than walked?
Thus far when we wild camp we have had an unsettling experience. Beetles which appear to live in the earth, and which are dormant when we set up camp, become active and munch away at the soil during the night. Munch, munch, munch. The unsettling aspect is that this occurs only inches away from where our heads lie - they are directly under, well, us.
You would not think they would make much noise, but oh yes they darn well do. One night it even induced zombie-killer dreams in my head.
This morning Sarah confessed that she has taken to bashing the ground, just like the fairground game.
I am afraid to say I will also adopt this methodology. I do not like zombie-killer dreams.
The Argentinian border came and went without issue.
And entering Argentina means.....
Toilets that work. With paper as well.
Water from the tap that you can drink.
Food that tastes interesting. And does not consist solely of chicken and 'pseudo' rice. ( I am covinced Bolivians fashioned their rice out of chalk).
Hot water systems.
Tarmac roads!
Road signs and other cursory information to assist the traveller.
People over 5' tall.
Showers that don't flow over bare mains wiring.
Although this may sound as though we did not enjoy Bolivia, that is very far from the case. It is just that we appreciate the differences.
Never run with scissors.