Salta, salta conmigo

Ooh, I think I´m on the first stages of arthirits. My kness can´t take anymore travelling on trains or buses.

We tiredly stepped of the bus into Salta and were immediatley made to think. Do we tip the luggage man just for taking out my rucksack (its amazing how something voluntary can be made so feel obligotary at times) and of the six people trying to take us to a hostel who do we trust? So as my cousing Stephen says, as well a certain Toni Montana: "Just take it easy". Over breakfast we decided to go with Matias, who took us to our hostel. Not our first mistake of the trip and not our last but the hostel wasn´t all it was cracked up to be. Bad beds, noisy and the odd prostitute working the clients. No harm done, we had a few beers that night, met some interesting people and switched hostel the next day. I´ve been really impressed by how friendly the Argentinians are. They´re also a really sociable bunch and love to talk.

The next day and feeling truly part of the Gringo Trail we ooh and arrrhed as to whether we should go on the Tren de Las Nubes (Train to the Clouds) which rises through dramatic scenery to 4600m. We´d been told it was a must do trip but we´d also been told it was overpriced and overrated. That day our minds were thinking: "well, this maybe our one chance in a lifetime, so lets do it". I can only imagine if I thought that way about everything......

In the end the trip was spectacular, fun and maybe worth it. I´m still undecided :) We left at 6am, buying some coca leaves from a man at the station hoping this would help with the altitude. It was a strange experience hearing someone openly shout out: "coca, coca·". We left Salta climbing through the green valley, slowly becoming more barren reaching the sweeping puna or antiplano with its surrounding peaks. We were forced to stop for two hours on the trip outwards as there had been a rockfall onto the track. At three in the afternoon we reached our destination, am impressive viaduct with a 400m drop. If the conductor would have wanted to we could have continued onwards to Chile following the old mining tracks. On our way back we stopped at the village of San Pedro were we bought empanadas (pasties), tortillas and a local flute from a market. Those 15 minutes of mingling with the local people were perhaps the highlight of the trip. It also felt like a good way of spending money and supporting the local community, rather than giving a lot of money to a private rail company.

On the way down night fell and we saw the full moon rise over the mountains. The train wagons suddenly turned upside down with a different scene in each one: movies, dancing lessons, karaoke and siestas. We partied away to Argentine karaoke whilst making the odd trip to the bar. It was a magic hour spent dancing with everybody. At 3am we arrived back in Salta.

We hung out for another day as we had decided to part companies with Luis. Unfortunately we did not tell him the truth and made up a story. But thats another tale. But the lesson learnt, which I already knew: Be Honest.

So we caught the bus to Bolivia and to a very different country and new adventures.