We're consistently asked why we're touring. Nikos has an answer.

¨Greece was torn by jealousies, hatreds, civil wars. Democracies, aristocracies, and tyrannies exterminated one another.... Then suddenly, every four years, garlanded heralds, the spondophoroi, set out from this sacred valley in summertime and ran to the farthest boundaries of the Greek world. They proclaimed the hieromenia, the ¨sacred month¨ of the games, declared a general truce, and invited friends and enemies alike to come to Olympia in order to compete.... No other people comprehended sport´s hidden and manifest value so perfectly. When life has succeeded by ding of daily effort in conquering the enemies around it - natural forces, wild beasts, hunger, thirst, sickness - sometimes it is lucky enough to have some abundant strength left over. This strength it seeks to squander in sport. Civilization begins at the moment sport begins. As long as life struggles for preservation - to protect itself from its enemies, maintain itself upon the surface of the earth - civilazation cannot be born. It is born the moment that life satisfies its primary needs and begins to enjoy a little leisure.¨

Nikos Kazantzakis ¨Report to Greco¨

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Casa de las Ciclistas! La Paz

Well, after the ride to Potosi destroyed our bodies we took a few days off. First in Potosi - which is a beautiful city, colonial and very old - then at El Ojo de las Incas - a hotspring just 25 km outside of town. The ride there was beautiful and mostly down hill since the city of Potosi is at 4000m and the rest of the altiplano is between 3400m and 3900m. The Ojo is a spring that the Incas of Peru used to travel to in order to bathe for medicinal purposes - natural salts and sulfur in the water are great for one's health. We still weren't feeling 100% but we moved on.

A little rest after our ascent to the Ojo de Las Incas, Bolivia

The Ojo (spring) at sunset.

Typically, we skipped the easiest riding. From the Ojo, we got a ride with some really friendly Portenos (people of Buenos Aires) who had also spent a couple nights there. They had constructed a mobile home (prefabricated but with their own design) and were working their way up north eventually to the United States. We all went to Oruro together. Courtney and Chris got a hostel and they went off to the place that mobil homes go when they are in a city. The car ride did not fair well for Courtney, we aren't accostomed to motor vehicles at this point. So, this combined with the cold we got as we ascended the mountains, kept her in bed for the night, while Chris made her spicy potatoes to clear the sinuses.

The view back as we left Oruro, Bolivia

In the morning we were all excited to bike to La Paz but the boring flat road didn't appeal to us. So we hitched a ride with a truck driver who was going to leave in a few hours. A few hours later, however - right around the time when it is getting much too late to bike - he informed us that he wasn't leaving after all. He would be getting minerals from the nearby mountain and then heading north the next day. Another night of alojamiento for us. Fortunately, outside the city center, the hostels cost half the price - about $5 for us to share a room. The woman who owned the place was very nice and excited to have clients. She has the only alojamiento in the area but it's newly opened.

The next day we failed in getting a ride out of the city and the polution was driving us crazy. So we finally shelled out 40 bs (another $5) for a bus to La Paz. Buses in Bolivia are much easier to navigate when it comes to bikes than in Argentina. No one cares that the bike is big and bulky. Throw it on, they say. We will see what happens in Peru.

So we made it to La Paz! We got of the bus 10km outside the city in the satalite city of El Alto - 300m higher than La Paz - so we could ride into the city and see the stunning view from up high. Paul, one of the two Belgian cyclists that we spent a couple weeks with, had suggested this. he was right to suggest it. The view is stunning.

The city, the altiplano looming above, and the mountains. La Paz, Bolivia

Once more, the city with the mountains above Remember that the city is at 3600m, the mountains tower above at 6 and 7 thousand meters tall The first snow capped mountains we´ve seen since Argentina. Stunning. La Paz, Bolivia

Unfortunately, just as we began to descend the canyon that is La Paz, it began to rain. And then hail. We have one pair of gloves between us and had to stop several times to warm our hands on our necks and stomachs lest they fall off. But we made it down the canyon and and into the hands of Cristian and Luisa of the Casa de las Ciclistas. We stayed last night at Cristian's house and spent today wondering around La Paz - a really fantastic beautiful and old city. One of two capitals of Bolivia. Sucre still holds the judicial power, but La Paz has usurped all the rest. We walked by the great buildings of government today and then moved on to the great markets of illicit goods.

The city at night. The lights of the houses tumbling down the canyon resemble stars in the sky, La Paz, Bolivia

Now we learn the ropes so that we can help out at the cafe. Cristian is sure that we will stay much longer than we intended because ''everyone seems to stay twice the amount of time they think they will'' but we're anxious to get on the bikes tomorrow and head toward Lago Titicaca and the Peru! 12 days and counting of bike tour, then we meet up with Courtney's dad and sister in Cusco for the final 12 days of travel (maybe some riding without all our luggage?)

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The Road Up

Tarija is at about 1850 meters, Potosí is at 4000m. Along the way we had to climb up over 4500m a couple times. The first time was in the section of rode described as ¨muy fea,¨wherein we were to climb to 4600m in 35KM. We spent the first day mostly pushing our bikes through detours roughly hewn from the mountain, or sometimes made of sand. We asked everyone we saw (very few people) if we were getting close, but no. When we camped for the night, the terrain was leveling off and Chris was feeling optimistic. Turns out the rest of the mountain was shrouded in clouds, so we flagged down that rare pickup and loaded our bikes into the back, where Chris also sat, fearing for the bikes and his own life as the truck sputtered up the awful, steep switchbacks. The view was pretty incredible.

We climbed this road. Far in the distance you can see Tarija and the Lago San Jacinto, Bolivia

A view from the first day. We were happy that we didn´t have to climb this road. There are unfortunately no photos of the crazy switchbacks up to the very top but one might picture something in between these two.

The drivers left us in El Puente and we stood in the shade eating ice cream cones, a bit dazed back in the lower, hot country. After 10 minutes we were invited in to rest with the Familia Tapia, blowing up balloons for the Añera that evening. The first birthday is the biggest in Bolivia, and we were invited. Of course then they were getting out the clown clothes and Chris and Courtney were drawing straws. Chris chickened out and Courtney put on the payazo suit and red nose.

Self explanatory. El Puente, Bolivia

By 8pm, the kids had eaten 3 courses of sweets and were sent home. The adults brought out the coca leaves and lemony singani drink, which is served family style out of a pitcher into one rotating glass. For dinner we had fricase, which is big boiled corn kernels, with potatoes, pork, and oily sauce. And then of course we watched some of the people make faces as they sipped their wine before mixing it with coca-cola or fanta. We went to bed while they had a dance party.

In the morning they were opening the presents and drinking beer, passing one glass around the room. They asked us to stay longer, then they asked us to come back one day, then they said ¨you´re doing what? biking to Potosí?¨ Yes, you only asked 4 times.

We found the paved road about 10KM away and felt good, cycling in a beautiful rolling red canyon. We camped high over the river and saw a beautiful sunset behind the mountain. The next day the road continued, beautifully paved in cement. We arrived in Camargo and stocked up at the giant central market, and ate a big fresh lunch in the lush plaza. Again, we were approached and asked to stay, this time at the Parrochia, where one of the fathers is German and welcomes foreigners to stay. Of course, the people of the city were inviting us, so we had to ask at the church, where the people were not quite as friendly as in the street. It was very strange to sleep in separate dorm rooms.

Our sunset. The road was hard but the views were breathtaking. South of Camargo, Bolivia

It was good to stop in Camargo because the pavement ended on the way out of town, because the road started to climb. For one thing, we were told that in Southern Bolivia they don´t get any of the money, which all goes to La Paz for distribution, getting lost in the corrupt government. The way people describe the Evo Morales government is ¨less corruption.¨

So they don´t have much in the way of paved roads in the south. There are sections of pavement, usually leading into or away from a city, never both. And all the worst sections of road are unpaved, made of sand, gravel, small and large rocks, usually littered with rocks the size of a fist; these are the roads that climb in straight ragged lines up the sides of mountains. One theory we came up with is that they didn´t pave these sections because they intended to bring in the earth movers and actually build a planned, gently sloping route, but never got around to it.

We had set out from Camargo and hitch hiked for the second time, gaining about 30KM and a basket full of peaches on the way to a peach orchard. We lunched and set out again up a steep paved bit of road. Then down, a turn, and we looked up at a big mountain covered in switchbacks. We felt a few rain drops, then heard an enormous thunder crash from the top. High comedy, straight from cartoons, which come evidently straight from Bolivia. At the top of the mountain it started to rain and we found a grouping of 3 houses made of earth. Two were abandoned and we had found our dry campsite.

From that point on, our legs were slightly more used to the terrain and we wanted to make a bit more progress each day. But every time the road got a bit flat, or went downhill, it turned into a washboard, or was strewn with rocks the size of our heads. Then we started to get flat tires. Chris went too fast down one hill, hit a big rock, spilled over and took an arm full of little cuts. At the bottom of the hill Courtney´s tire and tube received a big gash, so we camped.

The next day we climbed up to a big flat section of pampa and saw another beautiful sunset. Only one flat tire that day. In the morning we each had an inexplicable flat, due to moderately paced leaks. Mid morning we stopped to re-inflate and a valve exploded, giving Chris the opportunity to try out a tube whose valve had broken at the base and been fixed with a mixture of shoe goo and jb weld. Amazing fix!

We were now feeling masochistic, stopping only to fix tubes and groaning slowly towards the asphalt we knew to be close. In the evening we achieved the asphalt and got a tire and tube fixed at the Gomeria, camped behind the gas station, and had tea before bed.

Some kids that thought Chris was really cool as he fixed one of the many many flats we got along the way.

Our hearts were full of happiness, but our bodies were so exhausted we could barely keep our breakfast down. We climbed what we guess was 1000m over 35KM on the way into Potosí, before descending 500m into the city. The city is very pretty, with the ¨mountain made of silver¨ looming above.

Steep, cobbled, and colorful city streets. Potosí, Bolivia

The view of the city from the roof of our hostel, Potosí, Bolivia

Our day of rest here, Easter Sunday, and election day, has been beautiful and sunny. We took a walk and some Koreans, living here to build wells for the Bolivian govt, invited us in for coffee. ¨In Bolivia they have very fertile soil,¨ they said, ¨in Korea we don´t have good soil, so we study very hard.¨ They added that they don´t like Evo who they see as a dictator. When asked if they liked Bolivia, they replied ¨yes,¨ that they make a lot of money, and gave a classic hmm and haw to the question ¨what else do you like?¨ When we got back to our hostal, Chris layed in bed for a few hours while Courtney made him spicy soup to ease his sore throat.

During our Easter day walk we sought out the defunct train station, Potosí, Bolivia

What to do from here? Were going a short distance north to have another day of rest at Miraflores, a hot spring area.

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Tarija

Tarija is a rather lovely department of Bolivia. The climate is nice, ideal for growing all year around: figs, grape vines, basil, fennel. Turn on the radio and an adorable child voice serenades the cows of Tarija.

Our humble lodging at Mauricio´s place. Tarija, Bolivia

We´ve been working with Mauricio, who has been to France and Italy, where he worked as a wwoofer himself and studied food. He´s not much of a cook, but he prepares pesto, escabeche, smokey salt, eggplant salsa, limoncello, and various other artisan products. A quick learner, full of ideas; I hope he doesn´t lose his enthusiasm.

Already we taught him how to make bread, introduced him to hummus, and invented a few recipes like fig salsa for him to try out. First thing he asked us to do was tear up the dirt out front and make an example garden. We planted radish and lettuce. Mauricio knows he won´t get much out of this plot, but he is excited to be an advocate for the home garden and the organic technique.

Our first day Courtney cut pepers for making salsa de aji. Very spicy.

We mentioned that we had written to an organic wine producer in the area; Mauricio was able to arrange a visit. It happened that he was giving a class that began 7 months prior, and was ending on what was the last day of summer here. He had hung up two pig legs in the wine cellar at the organic vineyard, Valle D´Vino, and invited us to come down for the cutting-of-the-ham. We biked through the rolling hills on a hot Saturday to meet him.

Pulling out the moldy legs of the chancho was fun. Every vegetarian has a bacon phase, so I had no hesitation about trying the two hams (ok, I´ve eaten enough meat in the last year that I can´t throw the word vegetarian around. So far in south america though, if you don´t have meat on your plate at any given moment, you´re assumed veggie.) It was tasty. Courtney didn´t try it, her willpower knows no end. Everyone she´s met has taken it upon themselves to try to convert her to carnivore, but she holds strong.

Mauricio shows us all about drying and testing dried meats, Valle de la Concepción, Bolivia

We stayed the night, bunking with a wwoofer from Arkansas on the vineyard. In the morning we woke up and chatted with the landholder, Don Jesus Romero, about the feria del queso. He agreed that we should go, and offered to take us there. First things first though. They brought a cow around and got the sugar, singani (grappa), and a few glasses. A spoonfull of sugar, a dash of singani, place your glass below the udder, stir: that´s ambrosilla, delicious, filling, and a genuine surprise that we´re not likely to forget.

Chris and the Cow! Valle de la Concepción, Bolivia

The feria del queso was fun, but better yet was the chance to be carried along by a landed gentleman who introduced us around and paid our way. He tried to show us the oldest church in Tarija, but they couldn´t find the key, so we had to make do with delicious cheeses. There isn´t much variety, but the cheese is miles beyond the poor excuses, deceptively labeled with recognizeable names that we found in Argentina, most of which turned out to be somewhere between colby and cream cheese, carrying varying amounts of salt. The festival promised to turn into a good revelry, as the Tarijeños drink plenty of wine and chicha, and they had a load of saddled horses and cows on hand, but we took off early so we could bike back to the city of Tarija in daylight.

The oldest church in Tarija Provence, just outside the Feria de Queso, Juntas de Rosario, Bolivia

We took a bottle of organic cabernet for the road, as we have been abstaining (save a few drops of singani to cleanse the raw milk, and the touch of many wines to our lips for taste) as an experiment in purification. This and a bottle of quinoa beer that we´re still searching for could destroy us if we´re at 4,000 meters when we open them after 6 weeks without. Riding a bike through wine country is always rewarding. I especially like coasting at speed, watching vine rows perpendicular to the road pass by.

The ride back into Tarija through the Valle de la Concepción, Bolivia

While we haven´t actually had a ton of work, we´ve kept busy meeting people for dinner and tea, thanks to our amiable host. And as the elections are coming up, which are obligatory, politics keep coming up. I was at first excited to be learning something new, but it seems the same old story: government poorly managing funds; foreign or nationalized corporations taking all the natural resources and earnings; inequality and resentment between the indeginous ¨campesinos,¨and the whit(er) skinned folk. Well, we´ve been getting plenty of practice speaking spanish.

They say the internet is faster in La Paz, maybe we´ll be able to upload some more photos there. In the meantime, we´re getting nearer the Bolivian border at flickr.com/photos/jellofallacy

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Bolivia!

So we crossed the boarder into Bolivia! We´ve been having stomach problems ever since! It´s been great. Actually it has been a mix of great and not so great. We arrived 10 days before we were supposed to be in Tarija due to a last minute change of plans so we figured we would use that time wisely and catch the train to Uyuni to see the famous Solar de Uyuni - the largest salt flat and the flattest place on earth. We are certainly wiser because of it, but it can´t really be called using our time wisely.


We first caught the train to Tupiza, which was beautiful in all directions. We hiked one day together just in the hills that break the town in half and Courtney took off for a hike through the canyons north of Tupiza the last day. We spent the time there in a Hostel which cost an amazing 7 dollars US for two for a bed and shower. Bolivia truely is cheaper than Argentina. By a lot! People were friendly enough but pushy when it comes to buying and selling. The gringo price is very real.


We only stayed for 2 nights because of our dream to see the salt flat and our limited time. The salt flat was TRUELY UNFORTUNATELY under water on all the edges making it very difficult to bike so we decided to leave our bikes in Tupiza and take the expensive but breathtaking (so everyone informed us) tour of the area. This includes lakes that change color with the wind, deserts at 5000 m above sea level, rocks that look like trees, flamingos and volcanos. The whole tour is 3 days in jeep. The landscape truely is breathtaking. There were too many highlights to catalogue. We colaborated with Paul and Coline and all shared a jeep through Juliet Tours. We felt pretty good about the whole thing the night before we left but things rapidly became clear.


The driver and his wife (the cook for the tour) hated us. Hated us. From the moment we met they were apethetic at best and on the final day they sat in the tour office and told us we were the worst kind of tourists because we didn´t buy tons of things we don´t need. They refused any offer to talk and specifically refused to learn our names by saying it was too hard even before the words were out of our mouths. They told us we were greedy for trying to get a good price on the tour. This was the information they had before getting in the car with us that made them decide that we were awful. The tour office promised many things that they didn´t mandate the tour guides to follow through on (and probably didn´t pay them enough to follow through on) such as water and a night in a hotel made of salt. So we spent 3 days with hate spilling out of the backs of the heads of our guides. Rather uncomfortable. They refused any offer to talk and specifically refused to learn our names by saying it was too hard even before the words were out of our mouths.


So we did learn something: the beautiful, not to be missed landscape that is more than challenging - life risking? - by bike, was also not worth the tour. Parts of the tour were breathtaking, but it was still a tour - 10 min here for pictures, back in the car, 10 min there fore pictures. We were too slow for the driver´s comfort, but they were too fast for ours. We had heaps of fun with Paul and Coline and took some great pictures, just like a good tourist should. But all in all, the bike tour would have shown us beautiful things in those 3 days that would have meant more to us in the end. Coline kept wondering aloud whether this spot or that was bikeable, and we worried for the safety of our bikes back in Tupiza and Courtney´s back began to ache due to the many hours of sitting in a car.

We also learned quite a bit about the mining projects beginning in the area. There is a whole town that has been relocated due to a Japanese interest in cutting down a mountain the people used to live in due to the silver inside. The school, hospital and some other services are free thanks to the money the silver brings in. The mines are employed by the Bolivians and run by the Japanese. There is also an interest in the Lithium in the salt flat. Enough Lithium for 10 generations, our guide says. But in 10 generations, there´s no salt flat, right? They are in negotiations to build a plant on the northern edge of the flat as we speak. A French electric car manufacturer is especially interested.

Bolivia is traditionally rich rich rich with minerals and natural resources, such as gas, but as a country, is poor. Other countries have the means to mine the resources and Bolivia is left with nothing to show for it.

Well after the tour was over we busted ass to get out of Uyuni the same night and spent the next day biking around Tupiza and camping in the beautiful, stunning, canyon filled, countryside. Our few hours after the tour and before the train we made a lovely goodbye dinner with Paul and Coline who we had been biking and traveling with for 2 weeks or so. We also saw a little more of the tourist trap that is Uyuni. The town would not exist if it weren´t for the salt flat. People have become bitter and money grubbing because of it. The tourist is there to take advantage of the Bolivian and visa versa. It´s an ugly scene all around.

So we spent another couple days in the area around Tupiza and then biked back to the city and took a bus to Tarija. Here we´re working with Mauricio on his small organic plot within the city limits and his artisan projects and getting to know the town. Hopefully we´ll get a chance to work with the other organic projects going on in the area. A winery, cabañas etc. Pictures to come.

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Mas Norte

We continued to travel north from Salta on Route 9. The road here was much less trafficked than the road north from Tucuman and much more beautiful. We wound our way up a few hundred meters the first day and camped at a lake for the evening. Courtney washed clothes and we both bathed in the shallow water before bed. The bottom of the lake was covered in grass and the water was warm. The temperature was quite a surprise considering we were ascending the Andes and had already reached about 1500m - we were thinking the lake would be cold glacier melt, like most mountain lakes in the US. There are no glaciers this far north, the lake was most likely engorged with rainwater, explaining the grassy bottom. Day 2 we cruzed down down down to Jujuy through beautiful mountain switchbacks, stopping around every third bend for another perfect photo opportunity.

After crossing the dams south of El Carmen we decided to look for a place to camp but despite the complete lack of traffic for 2 days of travel, cars came out of nowhere and we were suddenly in the suburbs of Jujuy. Land was fenced off, the cars were loud and a place to camp was no where to be found. We decided to bike into town and camp at the gas station but getting there was not easy. 3 highways converge right at the south end of Jujuy making our entrance rather tricky.

We made it to the YPF and camped. In the morning we ran errands and eventually biked out of town. The man at the hardware store where we bought feul said "Van por el norte? mucho subiendo y bajando" "going north? lots of up and down" We also met a pair of Belgians - Paul and Coline who are traveling in tandem in the same direction as us. We only made it 35 km for the day before reaching our 1000 mile mark for the trip (US portion included)!!! We were very excited, stopped, took a picture, biked one more mile and decided we were done for the day. Some days are better than others for distance. A normal day we´ll make at least 50 km.


From our campsite just outside of Jujuy at 1500m we climbed for 3 days up to the top of the pass and into the Altiplano just past Tres Cruces with an altitude of 3700m. As it turns out there´s a lot more subiendo than bajando. Almost no bajando actually. We had been climbing since Tucuman (300m altitude) but much more gradually.

After lunch on the first day we were just starting to see the first signs of rain, and the wind was rushing us northward (better than trying to turn us around). We turned a corner, however, and were suddenly in the desert. The sky cleared, the hills turned into cliffs and the vegitation was suddenly prickily. Again, we stopped at every curve to take pictures.


We got to make some fun touristy stops along the way. In Pumamarca we saw the cerro de siete colores which is a mountain side rich with layers of rock from different epochs dating back to when the Andes were in the ocean. This mountain scene was worth the 3 km we biked out of our way, but also not uncommon along the route. Everywhere we looked the mountains revealed beautiful juxtaposition of color and form. On our way out of town we ran into the Belgian couple just heading in to camp for the night.

We camped outside of Posta de Hornillos - under a tree that seemed comfortable until we realized it too was covered in 2 inch pricks - so we could see the museum there first thing in the morning. The posta was one of many stops along a route from the silver and mineral mines in Bolivia and Peru on the way to Buenos Aires. Jujuy is one of the main hubs but the colonists had to try three times to create a station there. The indigenous groups resisted and destroyed the first 2. The museum showed a map of every battle fought between the indigenous people and the colonists. Between 1814 and 1824 (for the most part) the resistence was great but eventually, as we now can see, the colonists won out. The museum also showed a collection of archeological pots, tools, and even a mummy.


After Posta de Hornillos we wound our way up to Tilcara where we stopped to gather food supplies. The Municipal Market there is absolutely amazing. Beautiful vegetables and Courtney was even able to find a pair of socks for 2.5 pesos AR. Most of the larger towns along the route had mercados municipales. There is really no better way to shop. After lunch we made our way to Humahuaca where we stayed for the night. There we met up with the Begians once again. We camped together and have been crossing paths or riding together ever since.


North of Humahuaca we worked hard to accomplish our goal of Tres Cruces for the night. There is less oxygen after about 3000m so our last day was our hardest. We would also climb the 700m in one day as opposed to the 500m the previous two. We were also going farther than we had been. The road was steep and the wind was against us for the most part but the views were the most rewarding. We were still 20 km outside of Tres Cruces at 6:30pm. We had just decided we weren´t going to make it unless something spectacular happened when the wind died down and the road leveled out. We picked up speed and made the last 20 km in 1.5 hours. Paul and Coline were there waiting for us and making bets about when we would arrive.


From Tres Cruces we flew the next 80km to Pumahuasi. The Altiplano is just what it says it is. High and flat. We stopped in Abra Pampa for lunch - again there was a mercado municipal which treated us well. In the plaza we met up with Paul and Coline who noticed a US and Austrailian pair of cyclists coming from the north. They were helpful and friendly. We exchanged information about the southern routes for information about Bolivia. Only a few meters down the road we were landed upon by a group of touring cyclists from Columbia - traveling as 17 cyclists, all together - who told us that despite the fact that Uyuni is underwater, we had to go. So here we are in Tupiza, on our way.

La Quiaca is the Argentine border town. Together with Paul, Coline, we all road early in the morning to cross over to Bolivia. We split up because, being Belgian, they didn´t need to find a bank to pay the visa fee. We then proceeded to spend 3 hours in line crossing the boarder. If you make it here, you should know that they only accept US dollars, despite the fact that we are nowhere near the US. We had to change money 3 times and work through the beaurocracy. Then we rushed to the train station in Villazon - the Bolivian boarder town - and worked our way through another few lines to buy tickets, get our bikes unloaded and then pay for the luggage. We have been told by many many people that this particular section of road is the worst in all of Bolivia so the general concensus among bicyclists is to take the very affordable train ($3 US per person).

Here we are in Tupiza, a third of the way to Uyuni, a pit stop. We´re planning on hiking a bit and hoping that magically the salt flats will dry up and we will be able to bike them. As of now, however they´re under a meter of water. fingers crossed.

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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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