Mountain Time / Kickstarter!

Feeling great up in the mountain air, but the only internets is a shared console in the lobby that has buttons like this :ññ¡¡¡¿¿¿¿ÇÇÇÇ (¿awesome!).

Will be back online Sunday eve with plenty to report, including some fantastic photos of oversized succelents. Oh yeah.

In the meantime, if you haven´t yet visited the OFF SEASON Kickstarter site, please check it out, pass it along, and if you can, give us some support. It´s going towards an excellent film that i promise right now will not have three increasingly awful sequels. Thats not how we roll.

SALTA!

Things are looking up again. Spent almost all of yesterday in a Salta hostel bed so sway-backed I started having delusions of being sucked into it a la Johnny Depp in Nightmare on Elmstreet. After almost a solid month of plowing relentlessly forward through an ever changing climate with probably less than ideal nutrition (Argentinians don't serve much at restaurants that isn't red and bloody or flat, round and covered with cheese), I was knocked out by some fast-acting super-fever. Young rustled me up various medicines from the late night pharmacy, including a "add hot water" fever reducer that tasted like the devil's armpit, but despite its evil taste, it did not have the dark magic to exorcise my temperature. Making the day of bed rest particularly uncool was that we were planning a hike through a very awesome sounding cloud forest, and it was a gorgeously warm day (or it appeared that way out the window...sniff).

The pics above are of some Salta sights that we visited before the plague felled me. The architecture here, particularly the churches, is remarkably beautiful and the buildings are painted in striking hues. The waterfall pics are from a park at the top of a scenic overlook which can be reached either by hoofing it up a looooong flight of stairs (there are Stations of the Cross posted along the way, to give you an idea of the suffering involved) or you can take a gondola (guess which we did? 10 pesos! Shazaam!).

We also hung out at the central plaza where we saw some teenage school girls attack a friend with eggs and flour, coating her, and then sing her happy birthday. Seems like a pretty shitty custom to me, but the birthday girl took it with good humor. I prefer to eat the cake, not become it, Thanks.

Anyhoo. Today when we awoke the weather was miserable. Cold and rainy. I scored a delicious and soothing Sopa de Gallina, and Young got some Mondongo, a zesty tripe stew. I've got a lingering nanny-goat cough (as does much of the population here), but everything is looking good for more adventures tomorrow. Fingers crossed that the bed doesn't eat me first.

Andes Tour

Day Spent Indoors

Not feeling so fine and dandy today, but am on the mend and will have more adventures to share tomorrow...

Dirt Bike Hero

Yesterday morning, our hostal owner greeted us with a warm "buenos dias" followed immediately with "Hace Friooooo" complete with pantomimed shivery arms.

Great.

After our equestrian adventure the previous afternoon, we took out some bikes with the intent to ride up to a lookout point above the city. This morning, a town seemingly too dry for clouds was an ominous gray, and even with three layers of clothing, the wind was bitingly cold.

Our gloved hands were bright red by the time we hit the dirt road that led ever upward, and the wind was howling over the hillside like something out of a horror flick. We pedalled on, past gate doors that swung spookily in the moaning gales, past cows that... well, there was really nothing menacing about the cows. The creepiness of the ride was enjoyably distracting from other discomforts (tip: dont ride horses, then bike. Rest That Area), and we certainly had the trail to ourselves. This was also my first real experience mountain biking, and I rode the brake hard, mindful that a face-full of rocky earth or a broken arm would require some pretty creative rewrites for Off Season.

At the end, or the middle to be exact, the lookout point was amazing and worth it. It was extra windy up top, as was to be expected, this hilltop is used as the launch point for paragliders. The ramp that they use is horrifying to behold, a few steps downward out into nothing. It ain't pretty.

The way back down the mountain was better (gravity and food fantasties easing the way) and we were glad we didn't wimp out under the chilly warning of that spooky wind. It was still howling when we rode past again, but almost all of the menace was lost.

The Beasts

Nestled in the windblown, sun-baked high sierras, La Cumbre is by far the driest place I have ever been. Everyone here has a dry cough, it's hella dusty, and I often speak in what could be described as "sexy Becky voice" (if you've heard it, you know it). But despite the aridness, it's a cute, friendly town.

And get this, last night, we went to a curry joint, and the food was spiced to the point of almost hot and it was tasty. Amazing! The place quickly filled up with cheek-kissing locals. Other major Argentinian cities should take the hint. Spice is Good! Do not fear spice.

But anyhoo, hung out with some real beasts today, as you can see from the photos. My horse and Young's horse were not on good terms, and I swear my horse is deliberately trying to look like a burro in this photo just to make me look bad. There was also a very curious dog that accompanied us the entire three hour journey. There were also some cows.

Hydration calls.

High Sierras

Left Cordoba for the high sierra town of La Cumbre earlier today via a bus so hot and stuffy that, had I the ability to do so, I would have removed my skin, upholstery be damned. Shaking a fever isn't the easiest thing in the dry dusty streets of Cordoba, but I have hope in fresh air.


But to recap, Cordoba was a pretty cool place. On the plus side, they've got loads of colonial architecture, some great museums (we visited both the Fine and Modern art museums) and a cathedral laced with striking statuary. On the negative, there's pizza to eat, and almost only pizza (it's a college town), a pedestrian mall that stretches endlessly lined with ice cream shops, clothing stores, and shoe vendors that repeat indistinguishably for blocks, so that after a few minutes of walking you begin to feel like Wile E. Coyote stuck before a loop background of things you don't want to buy.

Cordoba was also a focal point for Argentina's darkest time. The Memory Museum, located right around the corner from a colonial church, is housed in offices once used as detainment and torture cells for the countless (around 30 thousand) "desaparecidos" who lost their lives because they disagreed with the dictatorship that took power in 1976 and held power until 1983 (only forgoing rule because they lost a war and basically abdicated power). It was striking that something like that could have happened in the near past (though it continues to happen right now in Myanmar) in such a seemingly modern place, and also very sad to see the images and possessions of the lost. Many were students; young, idealistic and certainly not expecting to die for thinking differently.

Probably the coolest thing we did in Cordoba was catch a ballet. Our tickets were the price of an empanada, and though we were totally up in the nosebleed ring (euphemistically named "paradise"), it was heavenly to see the inside of El Teatro del Libertador San Martin, a gorgeous old theater with glamorous red velvet box seating. The ballets were danced with spirit, if not precision, accompanied by a great sounding orchestra. The clip is from Manuel de Fallas "Amor Bruja" and also has some singing. Check it!