Salsa in Salta
Ok so not exactly the Salsa but a high energy blend of Salsa, Flamenco and Tango all performed at volume eleven accompanied by a four piece Latin American country rock?? band…I guess that’s what you would call them. All I know is that the place was bursting with energy. 150 diners stopped just short of dancing on the tables!
We didn’t understand the lyrics but we didn’t have to. We stumbled out the door and poured ourselves into taxis well after midnight. Lucky we are not riding today. Perhaps a more subdued afternoon of exploring the city will be in order.
But how did we get to be in a restaurant/night club in the central northern Argentinian city of Salta. After all it was only a few days ago our https://compassexpeditions.com group were in the Brazilian town of Bonito swimming with the fishes. So we high tailed it out of there bound for Foz, the same border crossing point we entered Brasil through. You may remember Foz do Iguacu is the place with the jaw dropping waterfalls. In Foz, some of the team get their bikes serviced and some tyres changed even though it is Easter Sunday. We find this quite surprising in such a deeply religious country. I guess money talks all languages.
The weather is still tropically hot and humid so we are grateful that the border crossing back into Argentina takes only a few minutes instead of the two and a half hours coming in. There was some talk that perhaps there is an electronic surveillance system in Brasil that links all the speed cameras, (there are hundreds of them) to our temporary import papers. Some of our group are quite certain they will have to pay huge fines before they are allowed to leave. Maybe Brasil was just glad to be rid of us and we sail through without a care but we were in no rush to leave. Brasil is a beautiful country.
For the next couple of days we meander through the Argentinian countryside and marvel at the disparity between here and Brasil. There are crops of course particularly sorghum and corn. There is even a small cotton industry but the scale is miniscule compared to Brasil or even Australia. There is a reasonable scale plantation timber industry and a small cottage industry producing charcoal in small brick domes from the mill waste timber.
A new option for our Airbnb?
In one town we see a Mennonite community still carrying on their lives as their ancestors have done for generations. The men are all clean shaven and impeccably dressed in black bib and brace overalls and clean white shirt. The women wear big straw hats and long dresses and they all get around in horse and cart and appear to have smiles tattooed on their faces. The simplicity of their lives has a certain appeal though we are not sure we could manage the devotion to God part of the deal.
Mennonites, the simple life.
We spend a night in the pretty little riverside town of Ituzaingo and witness the most beautiful sunset over the Rio Parana, a slow moving inland sea of a river that separates Argentina and Paraguay.
Paraguay is just beyond the sun.
The next night is in a slightly run down Eco Tourism resort, a victim of Covid lockdowns, where we have the unique experience of being awoken by a troupe of Howler Monkeys (should be called Growler Monkeys) The noise is not unlike rutting Koalas but much louder as they welcome us, or protest our presence on their patch, we can’t decide which.
Now in Salta after the night of music and dance we spend a relaxing day wandering the streets of this lovely old city first settled by Europeans in 1582 as they expanded south and west out of Peru.
Beautiful church in the city centre.
We find a fascinating museum with a brilliant interpretive display of Incan remains found on a 6,300 m high dormant volcano in the region. There is the perfectly preserved body of a boy child (nino) 7 years old at the time of his death. He was given by his people as a ritual sacrifice to ensure the safety of the rest of the tribe. The similarities between this and Christian belief is obvious and confronting. At least in the case of the Incas the son is drugged to sleep with powerful corn liquor before being interned in the mountain top where his people believe he doesn’t actually dye but goes to live with the ancestors to watch over the people. Any of that sound vaguely familiar?
Tomorrow we move into the mountains on our way west towards Bolivia and we can’t wait. The roads have been tediously straight and flat for the last several thousand kilometres so the squiggly lines on the map ahead look very enticing and the extra altitude should mean cooler temps. Let’s hope so.
Yesss!! That’s more like it.
