I never thought that I´d be so surrounded by livestock. From our first days here, we have had encounters with livestock. It probably began with the relatively mundane chickens. Then, the cow in the potential campsite. Then it was cows on the road. Then it was cows in the actual campsite. Then the horses in camp. It got a bit more exotic when there were sheep taking nibbles at the drying laundry. And goats in the trees at the side of the road, well, that´s a new one.

Those barnyard animals are nothing compared to the llamas and alpacas that we find crossing the road. And let me tell you-llamas and baby llamas are adorable. Really, really really adorable.

But the beastie that totally takes the biscuit-the gentle burro that showed up in our campsite in Humahuaca, and snicked at us, and let us scrach behind his big brown ears.

This is a pretty neat place.

Hola everybody! My spanish is still pretty laughable, but I´m trying to perfect my ¨Hola¨. I´m sure I sound like an englishman saying ¨Howdy,¨ but as usual it´s obvious that we ain´t from around here.
So we´re now in the far north of Argentina, just a little bit south of the Tropic of Capricorn. In most of South America the bus is the popular way to travel. We´ve seen all shapes and sizes of buses, but both of the ones we´ve taken so far have been the massive double-decker ¨Cocha Cama¨cruiseliners. Somehow the staff still need to be convinced (and paid) to come to grips with the fact that there is actually plenty of room for two bicycles on those huge things. We did our best to make the bikes small, removing front wheels & pedals & seatposts & taping it all together in a slim package, but we still got hassled. It´s a time-honored Argentine custom but we knew it was coming, and we also knew our bikes would come with us in the end. As Sebastian the bike tourist said, ¨In Argentina there´s always a way to get what you want.¨
The bus from Bariloche to Jujuy took 36 hours with no layover. How could we stand to be on a bus for that long? Well, for one thing they feed you three meals a day. The food was like good airplane food from back in the days when they gave you food on airplanes. And the seats recline alot, with big leg rests folding out. But the main time-killer is the constant barrage of video and musical entertainment. They showed us eight movies. The first two were G-rated kids movies (”Evan Almighty¨and ¨Daddy Day Camp¨) dubbed in Spanish. Then we saw Eddie Murphy´s lowest of lows, entitled “Norbit”, for the SECOND TIME in Argentina. It must be popular with the bus drivers. Then there was loud music for a couple hours, after which the Denzel Washington Moviethon began. Four in a row. Our hero went from ATF agent to FBI agent to Narcotics Cop to death-defying journalist. We finished up with a Sandra Bulock movie that had really distubing undertones if you bothered to think about it. I know, that only adds up to seven movies, but we know there was a eighth and we don´t remember what it was at all.
So after all that, which wasn´t really so bad for a 36-hour bus ride, we got off at the out-door terminal in Jujuy, in the rain, at 2:00 am. Our plan was to wait until daylight and then check out the town, but this terminal was way less nice than the others we´d seen. Outdoor, for example, and with homeless people crashed out in the corners. It was a rough night, but the locals were helpful. Several older women made a subtle crowd around us as we re-assembled the bikes, probably to keep our stuff secure. And nobody bothered us as we took turns sleeping on a bench while the other stood watch. There were cops and military folks around, so it wasn´t so unsafe. Just rough and disorienting. The north is different.
We ended up in a cheap hotel room a block away from the terminal for a couple days. Jujuy looked way more like Buenos Aires than the towns of Patagonia. Narrow crowded streets, Spanish architecture, and tons of retail businesses. Almost noboby´s got a catalitic converter on their car either, so we both had scratchy throats. The local buses emit an astounding cloud of soot-filled exhaust when they accelerate, thick enough to veil the other side of the street. But aside from all that filthy urban crowdedness, Jujuy´s pretty neat. We ate excellent empanadas from a few street vendors, had a couple superbe dinners with good table wine that was cheaper than the water, and witnessed lots of street performances.
Now we´re in the desert. Everything is made out of real adobe bricks, which people are making as fast as the old structures are crumbling. Things are distinctly more Catholic. Cacti are all over the place. It´s an interesting cultural experience for me. I remember a time in the 80´s when colorful woven clothing & bracelets from Guatemala & Peru started showing up in all the malls, and I was into it. I still see alot of that style at crafts fairs & import clothing stores & such. Sweaters & blankets & jewelery like that is all over here, in stores & markets and on the backs of locals. But it belongs here. The US has been know to import a style or two (though admitedly not as much as it´s exported) and I knew that before this trip. It´s just kinda different to experience it. In the end, I do look forward to finding a heavy hand-made Llama wool sweater in Bolivia for ten or fifteen bucks. We´re tourists, ain´t we? And rumor has it that it´s rather cold up there at 12,000 feet, where we´re slowly but steadily pedaling. We´re at 7,320´here in Tilacara. It´s our highest altitude yet, but it´s half as high as some of our destinations. Wow! Patagonia wasn´t like this at all.
Anyways, thanks for following along, & we´ll try to write again before entering Bolivia. As Sebastian said, “When you go into Bolivia, right across the border it´s another world.”
He also said it´s the best country in South America.
OK, ciao suerte!
-Andy

Continuing our attemt to out-cute Cuteoverload…more cuteness.

The most intersesting use of water bottles in a correa we´ve yet seen…

Found in our camp on Cerro Otto, in Bariloche, Argentina, Patagonia. Scared the crap out of me.

This fellow has been dated to Pre-Incan times. He is in the Posta de Hornillos Museo, a small museum that covered everything from the mummy to the Revolutionary war. Also of note: General Belgrano slept there.

The prettiest cemetary yet

This is the prettiest cemetary we´ve ever seen. Interesting note-when you speak of death in spanish, you use the verb form that indicates a temporary state-like, “he´s just dead for now, but later he will be something else.” How very catholic.