Salta, Argentina

(new strategy – I’m adding text to the blog before I forget too many details, then updating with photos as I find time to sort through them)

Having read about Salta’s history as a mule depot on the overland route to Potosi, I was expecting a half-derelict colonial town on the edge of arid badlands. Instead, Salta turned out to be a thriving town in a region of fertile cropland, with scenic hills in the near distance.

It was a pleasant place to stay – bustling but not terribly crowded or noisy, tourist-friendly but not Disney-fied, and not a single plastic reindeer to be seen. Our only problem in Salta (same throughout Argentina) was adjusting to the daily rhythm. Most restaurants don’t even open for dinner until 8 PM, which meant Henry’s bedtime had to be adjusted, and all our morning activities delayed accordingly.

When not too tired, Henry had a great time out on the streets at night. The neer-do-well teenagers hanging out in the park were suitably impressed at his headstand skills, and taught him some new breakdancing moves.

It was hot during the day – not unbearable, but wearying. Smaranda happily stood out in the sun taking video of folk dancers, but Henry and I were strategically ducking into churches for shade. Our apartment was near the pink church, which isn’t far from the red church; we didn’t notice the blue church until the end of our stay.

Smaranda arranged for a driver who happened to be an avid birder, and he took us to a lake with lots of birds – and provided binoculars and a spotting scope. We were a bit too far for my camera, but Smaranda got some good photos by holding her phone to the scope. We hired him again to take me into the hills the next day, while Smaranda and Henry explored the town.

above: lake and roadside. Below: another pond, known to be home to Southern Screamers.

San lorenzo hills:

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