Salta

I read the olds posts of Moraline's journey to Salta and I thought it was possible two men could be in the city at the same time yet never cross paths. I arrived here at 7 this mornign and took a cab for 11 pesos to a great hostel in a 19th century building and the cab driver stuck another car and knocked off his side view mirror and I tipped him 4 pesos for his troubles. I dropped off my gear (way too early for check in) and sought out to look for possible shoes, shorts, cassette, and chain. I found all these things quick. I'll wait to Mendoza, though. Patagonia is no joke, but to Mendoza I can risk it. Need new chain and cassette after that, and the shoes are 3 years old and in 1200km we'll see. But I'll drop cash for gear. A rich man can buy often. But a man of modesty buys infrequently but buys well.

Salta is beautiful and rugged in parts. The center is European but there are plenty of spots with only dark skinned people with little money. I sought out these places and ate a dinner menu for 20 pesos with a bean and meat stew and a chicken slab with ravioli. I walked upstairs to the central market and only indians ate in the intense heat. I ordered a beer and watched the indians harass other indians to come to their establishment. I drank my beer and watched the game. The girl wanted 18 pesos for the liter and I let her have it but I paid anyway. It's 10 pesos at the grocery.

Earlier I ran for 45 minutes in 34 degrees. I did knee raises, dips, and pull ups and began to feel stronger.

I fixed my belt with glue and glued the pannier I had fixed earlier with a bolt. I washed my jeans, shirt, and running shorts in the shower and then put them on and they were dry soon.

The women here are astoundingly beautiful, both dark skinned and light. I'm a bitter man who needs solitude so it's hard to be nice to even beautiful women. Yet Salta is a great place. I didn't ride my bike here but I did a good run in the heat and used the jungle gym as a workout I found the most crowded place filled with Indians and ate my dinner and drank my beer with them. I then found a crowded grocery and waited in line with the Indians. I know the white people of Argentina are easy. I know they would like me. I know the Indians either hate me or distrust me. So I go to them. Why make it easy. Patagonia wants to kill me, why not be with similar humans. 

I took no photos.