Christi and I ate dinner from a food-stall last night at about 11 pm, which is about the normal time people eat in these parts. What with the long journey and the late night, we enjoy a thoroughly lazy morning before beginning to explore. Salta is by far the most sophisticated town we have encountered since Cuenca, but one fact of life that we shall have to get used to during our stay in Argentina is that the locals like to smoke – anywhere, anytime. The pace of life in Salta is also very relaxed – a fact that cafes have embraced wholeheartedly. Starbucks they ain’t. Still it’s a beautiful day and we’re in no rush. We sit outside at the Van Gogh Café in the main square, Plaza 9 de Julio, watching the world go by and waiting patiently to enjoy our empanadas and cold drinks.
And speaking of watching the world go by, the racial mix in Argentina is very different to that of the Andean nations (Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia). Very few indigenous people still live in Argentina; the country is a land of immigrants. Indeed, only America has received more European immigrants than Argentina. So the faces of Argentina are very familiar.
This rest day is also, unfortunately, a planning day. While Salta is a great town to visit in its own right, we also want to explore a little more of the gorgeous scenery surrounding us – particularly the Quebrada de Cafayete (to the south) and the Quebrada de Humahuaca (to the north). (Note, quebreda means ravine or canyon). A local tour agency hooks us up with two very long day trips, which will give us the merest hint of what northern Argentina has to offer.
Fortunately tour agencies are one of the few enterprises in Salta that do not take an afternoon siesta, although the rest of the town takes this break very seriously (it’s probably the only thing they are serious about). At 1 pm sharp most of Salta shuts down. The locals then enjoy a long lunch, a nap, and, well I was too polite to ask the details, but either plan on completing your errands early or be prepared for a long wait. At about 5 pm the Salteños go back to work – so you can deposit that all-important check, shop for groceries, or buy a suit any time up to 9 pm. Folks then go home, relax, shower, and get ready to go out. Restaurants begin to get busy at 10 pm and dinner is still going strong at midnight (even later on the weekends). If you are daft enough to go out for dinner at 8 pm (and we are so hungry and so indoctrinated to eat early that we can barely wait until 8 pm), you will be the only diners in the restaurant – unless some other poor sap has committed the same faux pas. On the upside there is no wait for a table and the service is pretty damn quick. Christi ‘enjoys’ roast goat, while I tuck into the more conventional Lloyd George steak. We go to bed just as Salta begins to stir.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale
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