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Word of advice: travel low season. Less people, still great weather, and everything is all -around cheaper. We've covered 3 big cities in 3 provinces (with a break in small-town Cafayate) and it's up north from here.
National Park Nahuel Huapi of Bariloche was just as beautiful once entered as it is from the steep, cliff-like views of the road winding around Lago Nahuel Huapi. You really appreciate the low season when you find yourself hiking and making camp on a beach that you might as well have privately rented. Without a person in sight, we lounged in the sand and let the sun color our pale, gringo faces. And good thing we soaked up all the extra vitamin D... Our second adventure took us through a beautiful red, yellow, and lime green forest, up boulder falls, and to a laguna nestled between the mountains. Our dreams of fishing and swimming were instantly swept away with the 40 mile per hour winds that whipped across the water and slapped us in the face. We somehow got our tent up in a spot surrounded by bushes, but by nighttime the cold and wind were too intense and we decided to seek shelter in the laguna-side refuge. Turns out the closing day was that exact morning (again, not a soul in sight), but the shelter was open for all the winter hikers. We made a fire, watched hail come down, and didn't leave the refuge for the next 48 hours- except to pee and find firewood.
We finally left the Patagonia after a grand four-month run... and started our northern adventure/Sarge's birthday with having my Iphone stolen by the cab driver in Mendoza. But the tears and curses were forgotten when an honest taxi driver dropped us off at a castle.
- "Tienes una reserva?" said the man in the black suit.
- Why yes, yes we do.
We were lead into a candle-lit backyard where waiters called us "senor" and "senora" and didn't dare falter how they placed the menus in our hands. ...And so we capped off the eventful day with an extraordinarily delicious birthday dinner at an exceptionally fancy restaurant (mil gracias to Kim and Keating).
And what else is there to do in Mendoza except dabble with the wine? Buses always seem to make us sickly, but we were in wine country and couldn't turn down the opportunity to rent a tandem bike and ride around testing the vino tinto at various bodegas. Since wine is surely no anti-venom for a cold, we packed the extra tissues and started our Snotty b**** Wine Tour (aka taste the wine and chase it with a loogie), choosing Maipu as our vino destino. Without falling once, we made it alive through 1 vineyard tour, 3 tastings, and a great lunch-dinner at the oldest vineyard on the road.
We left Mendoza and headed up to Salta, an amazing city with over 500 years of history. The highlight of this city was finally realizing we were in Incan territory- Incan sacrifices had been found on almost all the mountains in this northwestern province. One excavation on resulted in the finding of 3 perfectly conserved little bodies: a 5-year-old boy huddled with his head against his knees, a 6-year-old girl who was struck by lightning underground and remained a bit charred, and another 9-year-old. The boy was on display at the time we visited (they have the other 2 bodies kept in 11 degree rooms, switching them at different times)- his face was hard to see, but his arms (including perfectly preserved skin) were incredibly chilling.
Craving a little less city, we took a bus to Cafayate, a pueblo known for its wine and "Quebradas de las Conchas." As soon as our feet hit the dirt sidewalk, we knew we were in a happy place. We spent the days walking around the little plaza surrounded by outdoor restaurants, trying the local beers, and walking with no destination to explore the mountainsides. We came across 3,000 year old cave paintings, witnessed Cafayate "animal day" (puppies dressed in tutus galore... Sarge had to pull me away), had hilarious lunches and late-night laughs with the hostel owner, and took an entire day to drive through the Quebradas, stopping at allll the well-known rock formations.
And now we're back in Salta, sitting on a couch with the computer in the lap and empanadas on the mind. Goodbye dulce de leche, goodbye speaking with a different accent, goodbye Argentina...hello cheap living. At 7 AM we're chile-bound, headed to the Atacama desert of San Pedro de Atacama. Ciao!
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