Before Christi and I take the overnight bus from Salta to La Rioja we still have time for a mini self-guided city tour. We begin with a lazy walk through San Martin Municipal Park to the teleferico. It’s a pleasant gondola ride to the summit of Cerro San Bernado for what our LP guide calls outstanding views of Salta and its environs. The trouble is there’s not much on the Salta skyline worth seeing, hence the map at the summit points out such luminary attractions as the supermarket, a boarding school for poor children, and the county jail. The man-made waterfalls are pleasant enough, though. Retrace our steps towards the town center, stopping along the way to visit the eye-popping burgundy and yellow San Francisco church. Back in the plaza we stumble upon an impressive display of gaucho dancing given by some local children, which has the huge crowd cheering.
And so our stay in Salta comes to an end after five beautiful days in this northern metropolis. Leaving north-west Argentina also marks the end of our Andean adventure: no longer will be breathing the rarefied air of the mountains. We will still see the magnificent peaks; we just won’t be among them. It’s also time to say goodbye to the indigenous Andean cultures. Everything changes now. Our adventure takes on a new flavor.
Well, perhaps not everything changes. Our second class (semi-cama) 11-hour overnight Andesmar bus ride to La Rioja is not particularly comfortable – although there is more space here than on a US domestic flight and the dinner is free so we shouldn’t complain. Christi does have one pet peeve, however: every time the bus breaks the speed limit (above 90 km/hr) a red light flashes in the cabin and a buzzer sounds. This happens all the time. Sleep is, not surprisingly, elusive. As with much else in life, first class is just more comfortable. But then if we could afford first class, we wouldn’t be backpackers – although to be honest our packs spend more time on the floor of our hotel room or in the hold of a bus than on our shoulders.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart – a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching tale
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