Argentina 10; Salta/Cafayate; Bueno, Muy Bien

I will begin this entry by setting the record straight on Argentinian bus companies. After my fancy first ride to Bariloche my expectations were high, which is always a mistake. The subsequent rides were mediocre and definitely didn't include bingo. For example on the 24 hour ride from El Bolson to El Chalten they played horror movies at night and only provided 2 small pieces in a 20 hour time span. I'm used to bad service, heck I even prefer it if I pay less, but when I pay $100+ for a bus journey it would be nice to not have demon children haunting my dreams. First world problems.

Anywho, I arrived in Salta after a 24 hr bus ride and my only goal was to not sit. I hiked to the top of Cerro San Bernardo, which proved an excellent view of the city, people watched, then ate the best empanadas I've ever had. The next day I went on a tour to Cafayate per recommendation of friends at my hostel. I am not a tour girl and as much as I try I don't think I will ever be. We would drive 20 min., stop, take pictures, drive 10 min., stop, take pictures, drive 15 min., stop, take picture...and so on. As much as I appreciated the photo opportunities I felt like a tourist instead or a traveler and it just didn't feel right. The scenery was amazing in a Utah sort of way and since the tour was completely in Spanish is was great listening practice. My guide's catch phrase was "bueno, my bien," which his said during every pause. every single pause. We ended up in Cafayate, went to a winery and then I ate and ate and ate. I was sick if not knowing what the food on the menu was so I went to a restaurant where you pick 3 entrees. I picked the ones that I hadn't a clue what they were. I ate very well that day.

The antibiotics seemed to be working!!!! Hallelujah! I also got an e-mail from the doctor in Buenos Aires confirming it is a staph infection.

Since it's getting to the end of my trip I am more aware of how pressed for time I really am. I had to make the painful decision to cut out Humahuaca and Iruya and head straight to San Pedro de Atacama, the only city in the Chilean Atacama desert.

Argentina 9; Iguazu Falls; The Cascados of all Waterfalls

After a 24 hr bus ride I arrived in Puerto Iguazu. There was no way I could come to Argentina and not see what all this hype was about. Here are some fun facts for you:

1. Iguazu Falls aka Iguassu Falls or Iguaçu Falls, are waterfalls of the Iguazu River located on the border of the Brazilian state of Paraná and the Argentine province of Misiones. The falls divide the river into the upper and lower Iguazu.
2. The waterfall system consists of 275 falls along 2.7 kilometers (1.67 miles) of the Iguazu River.
3. The first European to find the falls was the Spanish Conquistador Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca in 1541, after whom one of the falls in the Argentine side is named. The falls were rediscovered by Boselli at the end of the nineteenth century, and one of the Argentine falls is named after him.
4. Some of the individual falls are up to 82 meters (269 ft) in height, though the majority are about 64 metres (210 ft). The Devil’s Throat (Garganta del Diablo in Spanish or Garganta do Diabo in Portuguese), a U-shaped, 82-meter-high (269 ft) , 150-meter-wide and 700-meter-long (490 by 2,300 feet) cataract, is the most impressive of all, marking the border between Argentina and Brazil. Two thirds of the falls are within Argentine territory.
5. About 900 meters (0.56 miles) of the 2.7-kilometer length (1.67 miles) does not have water flowing over it. The edge of the basalt cap recedes only 3 mm (0.1 in) per year. The water of the lower Iguazu collects in a canyon that drains into the Paraná River at Argentina, shortly downstream from the Itaipu dam.
6. Iguazu currently has the greatest average annual flow of any waterfall in the world. The water falling over Iguazu in peak flow has a surface area of about 40 Ha (1.3 million ft²) whilst Victoria in peak flow has a surface area of over 55 ha (1.8 million ft²). By comparison, Niagara has a surface area of under 18.3 ha (600,000 ft²).
7. Taller than Niagara Falls and twice as wide, Iguazu Falls are the result of a volcanic eruption which left a large crack in the earth. During the rainy season of November – March, the rate of flow of water going over the falls may reach 450,000 cubic feet (12,750 cubic m) per second.
8. On her first sight of the tremendous falls, Eleanor Roosevelt exclaimed: “Poor Niagara!”

Eight is my personal favorite. After spending the entire day completely in awe, I came to the conclusion that the hype was well deserved. There was the unavoidable tour group/pushy "move so I can take a picture" crowd but it was all part of the experience.

Argentina 8; Buenos Aires 2; Time Machines

My second go at Buenos Aires was much different than the first. I had two main missions: do something about my infection and find a dress for Kelsey's wedding. I has only half successful, but I accomplished the most important thing. You thought I was going to say I found a dress, didn't you? Wrong, I guess sun dresses aren't in high demand in autumn.

I got several major outbreaks while I was in the trek (and my initial sore was filling with puss again) and my scared-o-dometer was at an all time high... also, ouch. One inch puss volcanos aren't the most comfortable things. I got up early to make it to the hospital my hostel recommended to get a good number. Everyone else must have had the same brilliant idea because about 70 other people were crowding the waiting room when I arrived at 8:00. I went to the reception to ask for a number and this is when things went downhill. She rifled off a series of questions that I didn't understand in the slightest....like absolutely nothing. She was more than peeved with my blank look, I think that was the wrong answer. I just wanted a number...quiero un numero por favor (my plan was to point and show the doctor the prior notes). Yes, my Spanish is that of a 2 year olds (if we're being generous) but this was plain ridiculous. I looked for someone in the room to translate but the best of their combined efforts didn't get us anywhere except a room full of laughing Argentinians that felt bad for me. By the time they fetched a doctor that could almost form an English sentence I was on the break of tears. I told her I just wanted a number, she handed me one and then I ran out of the room to let my panic attack take its course. Why was this so difficult? Needing medical attention is no fun but needing medical attention for a mystery infection in a foreign country where you don't speak the language and nothing seems to be working...yeah. I calmed down enough to start breathing again and a plump man who I imagine stays up to 2 AM playing video games every night came over to me. He used what little English he knew to make me feel better. I reacted completely inappropriate and started laughing harder than I was crying, which caught him off guard. How hilarious was this...I was a blonde foreigner outside a hospital crying because I couldn't communicate while others were getting tested for STDs...things could be so much worse. I saw the doctor, (she was extremely patient with me) she took a puss sample, and gave me some new antibiotics, third times a charm, right...

I thought the best thing to do after leaving a hospital was to go to the dead so I went to a cemetery, Ricoletta cemetery to be exact. I saw a lot of graves of people who were probably really important. Lots of statues of men with beards and fancy houses for the honorable deceased. Some of the memorials were so fancy I could probably live in them.

I finished up with a night and morning run around Puerto Madero, gosh do I love that run.

Argentina 7; Ushuaia; Fin del Mundo (End of the World)

My flight to Buenos Aires had a one night layover in Ushuaia, the southernmost city in the world. This was awesome for more than just the bragging right. It reminded me of Glenwood Springs, CO. in a way (with the Beagle Channel instead of a hot springs). I had limited time so I roamed the streets, fed the ducks on the dock, tried Oregon chai at a coffee shop and took a stroll along the port until it got dark. Now that I was traveling solo I felt like myself again. I was able to eat whatever I wanted for dinner at whatever time and talk to whoever I wanted....I felt completely free! I'd also like to point out that I went to the end of the world and didn't fall off!

B Burt and I were on the same flights and after I waved at him and he walked away, avoiding all eye contact, I realized we were playing the ignoring game. I like checkers more.

Argentina 6; El Calafate; Cool Stuff

When we arrived into town we went to the hostel that had recommended to us by some friends. At 100 pesos/ dorm bed (with the hosteling international discount), It was a bit too pricey so we checked next door only to find a man that was almost positively an alcoholic as the owner offering us beds for 35 pesos. Accepted! I did get stuck in the bathroom with a leaky toilet for 20 minutes and had to have the door almost broken down to escape...still worth it.

As for my infection, I saw a doctor but wasn't able to get tested because antibiotics were still in my system. The sores seemed dormant so there seemed no harm in waiting until after the trek.

That night I had a small world moment. Thanks to Facebook and its specialty in letting people who haven't talked in years know too much informations about each other, my childhood friend (he was recently working in Antarctica) and I discovered we were in the same continent (which is more than I can say for 99.9% of my friends from home in the last 2 years). I remember the old days (Elementary School) where I would walk to Dacre's house and ask his parents if he could play. We vaguely kept in touch through middle and high school but went our own ways thereafter. This made it all the more amazing to see him in Argentina after all these years. The Double D's had reunited!

The next day B Burt, our Argentinian friend and I headed to Calafate's main (only) attraction, Porito Moreno glacier. I had never seen a glacier before so I didn't have much to compare it to but it was pretty cool. Astonishing blue colors outlined the enormous ice block. It formed a dramatic cliff into the turquoise water and every so often we could hear a crackling noise and see ice chunks take a dive into the water.

Our Argentinian friend got an unfortunate call from his employer saying he had to come back to work early so B Burt and I sadly had to carry on to Puerto Natales, Chile without him.

Argentina 5; El Chalten; Protected Jewels

A 25 hour bus ride (where we saw llamas and ostriches out the window) brought us to the teensy town of El Chalten, AKA the hiking capital of Patagonia. Despite the windy weather, some friends from my hostel and I hiked to Fitz Roy mtn. No, we are not standing in front of a poster, it is the real deal. The last bit of the hike was a never-ending trail of up; the people heading down gave us questionable looks when they saw us trucking to the top in shorts and t-shirts as it started snowing. Lakes, rivers and, glacier melt eye candy as far as the eye could see. Fantasy land.

The next day we decided to brave the wind and set out for Laguna and Cerro Torre. When we passed the halfway point we found ourselves going head first into an enormous storm cloud. Ordinarily I would be all for pushing on but Patagonia is a whole different ball game. Once we stepped into the exposed land it was nearly impossible to put one foot in front of the other. Defeated, we were not. The day was well spend with quality people and rainbows.

I had noticed that I was a lot less social in S America, perhaps because I had the safety net of another person. I made a conscious effort to break this streak in El Chalten because, frankly, I missed people.

B Burt wasn't keen on battling the weather so he kept cozy in the hostel and studied English the couple days we were in town. This made me a little nervous about his condition during our upcoming trek in Chile but I figured we'd cross that bridge when we come to it.

An Argentinian that we had gotten to know at our hostel who was also heading to El Calafate and kindly let us join him (via his car). It was sad to say ciao to such a charming place but my infection had made another appearance so I was under strict orders to get some tests done in a city with the facilities to do so (de nada mom).

Argentina 4; El Bolson; Lazy Hazy Days

When we arrived in El Bolson we were swarmed with people offering us rooms at hostels; B Burt leaned over to me and whispered "it's like Asia, no?"...Si. After 2 hours of trying to find a decent place to stay we finally settled on the cheapest hostel run creepiest woman in town. This turned out to be an excellent decision. It was more of a home than a hostel (they sheltered anyone who needed a place)and the woman's creepiness grew on me.

In the last 30 years El Bolsón has been declared both a non-nuclear zone and an ‘ecological municipality.' I don't know if we were effected by the marijuana in the air but this bohemian town known for its hippy aura made us lazy. We recuperated for 3 days by eating churros and submarinos (a genius invention of hot milk with whole chunks of chocolate "submarines"), strolling around, going to their famous local craft market, and hanging out with fellow travelers at our hostel.

The local market, making an appearance several times a week, exceeded my expectations. Hundreds of tastefully decorated stalls with excellent quality crafted goods – wood, stone, leather, glass, fabric. Amazing food, great home made beers. An orchestra man, as much for his own enjoyment as anyone elses. Bohemian characters panning out, joking, sipping mate. It's an almost magical place.