In Buenos Aires, it’s Buena (good). The hostel room has a balcony overlooking the charming European style street. Too bad I’ve joined a tour leaving for Salta tomorrow.
Salta is small town. Mandarin trees along some roads and wrought iron lamp posts give an old world feel. Other than taking day trips, there isn’t too much to do in Salta. There’s a beautiful viewing platform of the city from the hill above the Cerro San Bernardo monument. Alexa, Sarang and I do the stair climb before our afternoon ranch lunch.
To taste a country, you should drink the wine. So I drowned myself. Vino blanco. The wine was good enough to mature the Peter Pan of wine drinkers (aka me). Yes, I’m drunk on reds for the first time, like a virgin. Speaking of reds, the bbq meat is smokey, tender and mouthwatering… a feast fit for a King.
A lady at the ranch asks Elvar (German): “Do you want more meat?”
Elvar: “Sorry I don’t speak Spanish”
Frazer (Canadian): “she was speaking in English”
The ranch bbq was a real group bonding experience. Note, I witnessed a lady was refilling the wine bottles with a funnel out the back of a barn.
The evening carried on with more drinks, searching for green and ending with Elvar and I going on a tour of all the local convenience stores in a mile radius to obtain rolling papers. It was an amusing end to Salta.
Tomorrow will be an early start onward to spend a few days in the Chilean desert town of San Pedro De Atacama.