Argentina and the Art of Giving Directions

How do I know we are in Argentina now? After walking across the Argentinian/Bolivian border, it wasn´t immediately apparent (after all, we walked only about a mile in all). However, needing to find a bank so we could withdraw some Pesos, I quickly asked a man on the street if there was one in town and where we might find it. Now, in Bolivia, a question like that would almost certainly generate an affirmative response (regardless of the truth), followed by mumbling and gesturing vaguely about 270 degrees--just to cover their bases. No definite distances, directions, streets, or even a general bearing I could following with a compass. TODAY, however, was different. The man smiled, greeted both of us and seemed enthusiastic to tell us how many blocks and which way to turn at each necessary junction...you know...like directions! Its good to know the art of giving directions exists somewhere in Latin America. Just being in this border town for a few hours while waiting for the bus to transport us 24 hours south to Mendoza, both Natalie and myself were struck with how much more friendly people seem. Not just towards us, but each other as well. All in all, the time spent in Bolivia was well worth it, however, its nice to be in a place where attempting to purchase food from a vender doesn´t seem to inconvenience them.

Speaking of directions, we did indeed get out into the campo around Tupiza (not Tarija as previously mentioned by another blogger) for Christmas. With not one, but TWO moderately insufficient, tourist maps in hand, we headed into canyon country, planning to spend two nights celebrating with our present to ourselves (a $6 bottle of wine) and trying to avoid flashfloods. The first day took us past La Puerta del Diablo, giant sandstone spires, and up a spectacular slot canyon--scrambling, climbing, and passing packs up waterfalls and over boulders. We found the area we sought for camping with only about 45 minutes spent trying to find the correct route into the canyon! Normally, that amount of time would have been greatly frustrating, but after our experience around Sorata, it seemed like we got off easy. This would be affirmed the second day...

Our desination for the second day was only a couple hours hike, so we had a leisurely and delicious oatmeal with trail mix breakfast and instant coffee (the coffee wasn´t in the oatmeal). About 30 minutes up the canyon from camp, we were faced with our canyon becoming more of a "drainage" and steepening enough to call it climbing, not hiking. It would have been challenging, technical climbing had the rock been solid and stable. Instead, it was bits of scree like shards embedded in soft clay--coming off in our hands or sliding under our boots. After a few dozen meters of this, I decided to leave my pack and scout ahead, as the route steepened. After climbing up the last 50 feet of the drainage, more scared than I can recall being, I realized there was no way we would make it up the same pitch with our packs. Being pretty sure this wasn´t the route we were supposed to take (you may ask yourself why this didn´t occur to me earlier as I clawed my way up the decaying "rock"), I continued climbing a nearby mountain to gain a better look of the surrounding area, hoping desperately to find our route, and hopefully a different way down for myself.

Spotting a trail the next drainage over, I downclimbed back to my pack, then and Natalie and retraced our steps to begin climbing up the other canyon. To make a long story short, we never found the other canyon which we sought and ended up about 7 miles further down the road than we wanted to be and 9 miles from town at 5PM. Rather than spend another minute using energy to search for water and camping we may never have found, we decided to eat our last can of tuna, two cookies, and set a fast pace back to town, hoping to reach it before dark. We struck our first bit of luck when we passed a house/tienda where we bought 5 pieces of bread with the last 2 Bolivianos we had (in usuable change). Spirits raised, and wishing we had time to join the drunken proprietor for a friendly drink, we continued down the dirt track, munching on dry bread. Our final bit of Christmas cheer came when a 4x4 truck approached from behind and gave us a lift the last 5 miles into town (after stopping to change only one flat tire).

At 4am this morning, we boarded a bus heading for the border and were welcomed into Argentina by 9am.

Happily,
Sam and Nat

PS While we have made note that Bolivia, on the whole, did not feel as welcoming or friendly compared to Peru (or our experience thus far in Argentina), we did meet many fantastic, generous, and kind people along the way.