I am here because I need a city. I need to do things like organise insurance for the truck. Like buy food that isn’t noodles and frankly try to dry everything out. Thing is, Salta is actually quite beautiful so I stayed, and made some photos….
Once again I somewhat misjudged my days and arrive on a Sunday. Not ideal for open insurance offices. The following day, as I walk back, super early as I’m keen, the unmistakable sound of spurs announces the arrival of fifteen gaucho horsemen.
Ten minutes later I see another group of ten coming through town, full dress. The office is closed. So is the next one. And so is the final option on my list. It is now midday, I am ruined and sweating in the heat after a 3 hour trudge around town. I eventually manage to ask if there is some secret public holiday. Of course there is! Salta’s very own, unannounced and specific only to this town “Gaucho parade day”
Not good for open insurance offices, but potentially interesting for photo play.
Hundreds of horse mounted families, parading in front of a bandstand of dignitaries, for about two hours. And here is what I got.
Given I’d entered ‘sight seeing mode’ I taxi-jumped to the archeology museum to stare into the frozen grin of an Incan child sacrifice, carted off the top of a 6000m volcano and now sat in a cryogenic plastic box at -20C. Then a mooch about the grand church of bonkers saintly worship.
And this morning after only two hours and calls to the owners school age daughter to help with translation I have insurance and will be heading back out into the desert and looking to cross the border into Chile at about 4500m.
