El Norte

Leaving Tucuman we encountered cheap empanadas and heavy rains. 30 miles north things cleared up and we stayed with Sargentos Gomez y Lopez in the Comiseria de la policia in Vipos.

Sargento Gomez shared his thoughts on the world. He´d been in the army in the Islas Malvinas when he was young. Thanks to his sane life, drinking little and keeping his head up, he still looked young. He said that most people he sees are like animals, just eating and drinking bad wine. After so many dictatorships they look down on the police, and there is no army to speak of under the current government, so the British are in control of the Malvinas, or Falkland Islands as they call them, pursuing the mineral and oil reserves.

Well, he made a big salad for us and offered bread, soda, and beef fried in oil. Ahh, the sane life.

From there we found ourselves pedaling up a slow incline towards Salta. At Rosario de la Frontera, we met Juan, truck driver of 16 years. He carried us nearly 200KM into Salta, sharing stories of cargo he´s hauled (dynamite, sulfuric acid, and now soda and beer), travelers he´s picked up (teachers, crying boys, women who spontaneously undress, men who throw around all his CDs and have to be fought away), and the story of his brother who tried to take a job of his and will never speak to him again.

Arriving in Salta by truck, one sees billboards declaring that the city no longer tolerates ilegal vending. Travelling downtown by bicycle one sees ubiquitous vendors, on every street, selling every thing. As the police walk by in pairs, the vendors turn to look the other direction and the police pretend not to notice.

Standing in the peatonal (pedestrian street) trying on sunglasses from an ilegal vendor, the tiles of the street wobble a bit. We thought so anyway, until people began streaming out of a store nearby, as the alarm had been tripped, and the earth was moving. That´s what they call it, se move la tierra. We didn´t see any damage, and it was a few days before we heard about Chile and the hundreds of people who´ve died.

Cycling north from Salta, we found the most beautiful surroundings, including a narrow highway, well-paved but practically unused. Within days we bikes through lush semi-tropical forests, beautiful valleys, until we turned a corner north of Volcon, and found ourselves in the desert.

photos to come.

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