Don’t cry for us, Buenos Aires—we’ve moved on to Salta, though we will see you again soon.
With a tear in our eye yesterday morning, we said goodbye to our little haven at 3363 Cabello. Sure, it could have been the fact that we had our earliest start so far, waking up nearly at the crack of dawn—9:00!—but I think much of our fleeting sorrow had to do with the attachment that we’d developed over the last couple of weeks to the little studio que podría.
We arrived at the airport with enough time to dash off a few postcards to those special humans who raised us—you guys know who are—before getting on the plane. Once aboard, we were treated to sundry desiccated snacks and a selection of hilarious videos involving practical jokes played on unsuspecting residents of what seemed to be Quebec—they looked vaguely French, though appeared, without the benefit of headphones, sometimes to be speaking English. Our favorite of these videos, I think, was of a Port-a-Potty in which unsuspecting toilet-goers were surprised—to put it mildly—when, just as they had locked the door and were about to drop trou, the seat cover flew open and a man’s head popped out. Fantastic.
Landing in Salta was uneventful, and we soon arrived at the Munay Hotel, the Four Seasons Salta having been booked when we called for reservations. Our room had two twin beds, each including a blanket emblazoned with a roaring lion’s head; a door; a window; and a toilet with a bolt-on bidet. Qué lujo!
We had lunch, rented a car, and took a look at the town’s main churches (note the all-seeing eye in the pyramid, similar to that on a dollar bill, in the picture below)—
though we unfortunately missed what our guide book described as the “lurid” statue of St. Sebastian inside the Iglesia San Francisco. We did, however, take note of the “Radio Maria 102.1 FM” poster tacked to a church bulletin board.
Today we set out on a road trip in our 3-door VW Gol—air, power steering and unlimited mileage—heading south towards the town of Cachi, through country that moved the writers of our guidebook to hyperbole.
- M
1 response so far ↓
Mom // July 21, 2008 at 2:05 pm |
Waiting for your next posting! In the meantime, I caught a comment from the posting “food=love” and I found myself on a wild ride of information…including TFC – Barton Rouse – Terrace Club, etc. Before the internet and the ability to “google” – how did we survive!?!