No Shave Salta

Apologies for the lack of activity recently but the past 3 weeks have been extremely busy. I have also spent the majority of that time traveling in the Andean mountains away from my home and computer. First we went to Salta, which is in the Northern Andean/Oriental mountain range. The guys decided to rough it and not shave at Salta to promote manliness and camaraderie. Brenny did not participate because he is neither manly or camaraderiesh. The area we went to is mostly desert and was once a major Incan site before those damn Spanish came through. The trip was arranged and paid for by BC, reminding us that the exorbitant tuition we paid wasn't all for naught. To get to Salta we took a 25 hour bus ride to the northern edge of Argentina. It was a long way. Turns out this country is actually really really big. As everyone knows, the best way to travel long distances is hungover and sleep deprived, and since our bus trip was luckily the day after St. Paddy's we spent the majority of the ride sleeping/recovering. I think Madeleine managed to sleep for 20 straight hours, an impressive feat.

We arrived at the city of Salta around 5 o'clock, checked into our hostel, and went to explore the city. The first stop was the preeminent museum on Incan culture in Argentina which was chock full of interesting facts and exhibits about the Inca way of life. The best part were three mummy Inca children that had been preserved on top of a mountain by the ever present ice. The Incas would choose the most beautiful children from the royal families and after a huge festival the children would be taken to the top of the tallest mountains. Then they would drug the children with alcohol so that they passed out and leave them there as an offering to the gods. The Incas believed that the children didn't die, but transcended this world into the one of the gods, so that they would wake up among their makers. All three children were found facing the rising sun with heads bowed, and one had even been struck by lightning. We only got to see one, a little boy of about eight years old. He still had all of his clothes, and his skin and hair were all intact. He even still had tiny fingernails, and it truly looked as if he was simply sleeping. It was awe-inspiring to come face to face with a person from 500 years past, a truly memorable experience that made me question the fragile and brief nature of our lives.
Central plaza of Salta-the museum was located in the beige building.
Salta Cathedral at night. This is bright pink during the day, but I like it better like this.
The royal Inca mummy, no pictures were allowed so this is the best I found.

The next morning we woke up at 6am! to leave on an excursion to the salt flats of salta. It was a long ride through varied picturesque terrain. I literally fell asleep in the jungle and woke up in a desert, a surreal and confusing experience. At the base of a seven colored mountain there was a town we stopped at whose sole existence depended on fleecing tourists of their money. People come to look at the mountain, then stop in the town to eat, use the bathroom (not free), and buy Inca clothing. I myself bought a nice reversible hat with llamas on it and some sweet pajama pants. We continued on to the salt flats which were extremely salty and bright. Dan and Dave didn't have sunglasses and suffered greatly from it as looking anywhere was akin to staring straight into the sun. My super polarized ray-bans served me well and I was able to see where I was going, unlike Dave who walked straight into a pool of saltwater. We picnicked on the flats and everything tasted strangely salty, but it was still sumptuous. Besides a quick glimpse of the rhea (the ostrich of South America), the four hour bus ride back to Salta was quite tedious and cramped - a foreboding sign.
The Jungle. It rarely rains in Salta so this jungle exists mostly from cloud condensation breaking up against the Andes.
Back to the desert and the tourist town at the base of the seven colored mountain.
The road we took to the salt flats. It was 3500 meters above sea level so there was lots of chugging uphill.
Salt Flats and salty pools that Dave inexplicably stepped in.
Depth perception is non-existent on the salt flats.
Believe it or not, we all managed to fit into the hot wheels sized van in the distance.
The Rhea. In retrospect it wasn't too exciting.
Andean landscapes.

Now this bus tour might have seemed pretty fun for one or maybe two days, but we made the fatal mistake of booking four excursions in a row. Each day we set out on an odyssey across the mountains in search of some fabled little village nestled in a mountain valley. Every town was very similar: clay buildings with a plaza in the center and a big church next to it. There were always people hawking homemade Andean goods at us, and many long dusty roads. Adding to our misery, by the third day several people had become sick with a stomach bug that was only made worse by the winding mountain roads. We whittled away the long hours on the bus by playing every word game under the sun, and we even invented a few new ones. Despite all this we tried to keep our spirits high and there were some good moments and many sights. We visited the ruins of an Inca and colonial town where the only remaining living residents were some mean llamas. There were a couple of them corralled up and I went up too one saying
"Hey Mr. Llama give me a kiss."
The jerk gave me a funny look and spat at my face. He only grazed my head as I ducked away just in time. Of course my "friends" burst out laughing and tried to convince me to go up to him again so they could film me being spit on. To me that seemed like a horrible idea, and I flat out refused. The bastard kept on eying me and making some spitting sounds. Soon his cronies came running over to stare and spit at me too. At that point I had had enough so I fled the scene chased by the derisive laughter of my peers. Then I climbed a little mountain to reach the ruins of the ancient town, an experience almost cool enough to make me forget the vile llamas. I got the last word in though because for lunch that day I ate some llama. It was deliciously vengeful as I was fairly certain the one I ate was the brother of the one who spat at me.

There was a lot of varied terrain and many breathtaking sights, but the uncomfortable and long bus rides cast a dark cloud over the whole experience. We at least had each other to share in the suffering by cracking jokes about the misery. The 25 hour bus ride back to Buenos Aires was a fitting end to the trip in which we spent almost 80 hours on a bus. That ride was somewhat entertaining because we played hearts for 7 hours straight and watched the horrendously good Ghostrider. We made it back to Buenos Aires and had five days to recuperate before we headed off to the Southern Andes for the much improved Mustache Mendoza trip.
Scenic vistas.

Cactusland.
Dave and I hiked up a little mountain near the town of Cachi and found a cemetery that might be one of the most peaceful places to rest forever.
The aforementioned Cachi.
These animals suck.
Inca ruins.
Another monument celebrating the expulsion of the stupid Spanish.
We were at the tropic of Capricorn at one point on our intrepid journey.
I like murals.
There's a face in this mountain that reminds me of my favorite Jew.
A cave in the side of the mountain that was a cool place to visit, mainly because I got to get off the freaking bus and climb some rocks.
A vineyard we visited on the last day that was a sign of better things to come.
All the BC people studying abroad in Argentina this semester minus Erica. Our bodies may be beaten but our spirits remain high. From left Dave, Brenny, Dan, Allie, Mel, Hannah, Madeleine, Laura, Marina, and me in the middle.