Dulce De Lecheland

Hello all,
Santiago to Mendoza was a twisty journey up and over the Andes, the mammoth Aconcagua at 6962 meters passing on the right side of our bus. Another disappointingly unexciting border crossing and we were getting used to the Argentine accent once again.

Malbec wine, and lots of it, is to be found in the vineyards around Mendoza. The best way to experience it is on a set of wheels, so we rented some bicycles and tottered our way from one vineyard to the next.

We sampled enough varieties for neither one of us to actually remember what it was we drank. But I think it was good. Especially with a mountain of cheese and good company to go with it.

But Mendoza wasn´t just about the wine. We also took two weeks of Spanish language courses at a school that insisted on smothering us with lots of culture. This included watching the sassy cueca dance, and eating greasy little pastries for the 25 de Mayo celebration as well as instructions on the finer points of how to, "beber vino".

Mendoza is a lovely city with wide sycamore lined streets and enough park space for you to take a siesta in a different area for every day of the year. But after two weeks it was time to go North.
The place we stayted isn´t worth mentioning, but it is close to two beautiful national parks with amazing sedimentary landscapes. The first was Talampaya´s wind and water-sculpted red sandstone canyons, which made a fabulous backdrop to breakdance fighting.

The second was Ischigualasto, otherwise known as Valley of the Moon, which contains "bentonite"effecting vegetation growth, hence the name. There is an unusual field of little shotputs or lawnbowls, depending on your preference; perfectly rounded stones formed by "concentric growth rings" hypothesized to grow around a nucleus of lithic material or animal remains.

They like to name natural structures after things that, after one has a few glasses of Malbec, somewhat resemble something else. This one is, The Submarine.

Apparently they found some of the oldest dinosaur bones at Ischi as well, still frightening in all their plaster cast glory.

Next stop, Salta. Time in transit, 24 hours. Darryl, food poisoning. En route entertainment, Hitman. This proved a taxing combination for all involved.
Salta had an Andalucian feel with orange trees lining the plaza and the ubiquitous colonial arquitecture.

From Salta we moved to nearby Cafayate for a few days.
For the wine, of course.

The goat cheese and scenery were also quite pleasant.

Petey, the best cheesemaker.

On to Bolivia and altitude sickness.
Love d&j