The "Amazing Attractions" of Salta

No prizes for guessing which out of "up and about early" and "what do you mean it's the afternoon already?" sums up my start to the day after the St Patrick's celebrations in Salta. I didn't have anything planned anyway, although it was faintly spooky that all the other people in my dorm (including Ben and Dee) had checked out in the morning, so I awoke to an empty room. Surprisingly, though, I awoke in pretty good health, and I was to discover that Lisa was also feeling no ill effects from our green-tinged binge the previous night - in the end, we headed off to grab some lunch and get various bits of admin done (I needed to get laundry done, she needed to sort out a bus ticket, I wanted to back up my pictures, etc etc) before taking the teleferico (cable-car) up Cerro San Bernardo, the large hill overlooking Salta's city centre. There was some giggling on the way up, though, when the recorded message announced that the Teleferico Complex was "another amazing attraction for Salta". The actual attraction up there consisted principally of the great views out over town, no matter how much they might try to sell the merits of the artificial concrete waterfall or the (currently closed) "Ecological trail".

Back at ground level, I headed internet-wards while Lisa went off to get some shopping done. With my mind set at ease by having all my pictures backed up again (after all, how could I possibly survive without at least 20 comedy shamrock-related photos...?), I headed back to the hostel to find that I am perhaps developing some kind of new remote-acting travellers' curse, in that Lisa had now managed to lose her wallet. Luckily, the damage for her was somewhat less than it had been for Pete (largely due to having an alternative card), but the lesson appears to be "don't travel for any period of time with Pat in northern Argentina if you value your bank-card". Whilst I waited for my laundry to turn up, I took the opportunity with an empty bag to sew on the Chilean flag patch I had acquired, and then once my delightfully clean clothes made an appearance, I got down to the important if rather dull business of repacking my bags before going to the Asado night. Yes, another one. Only this one with added folclorico music and dancing. Which goes to show that, amazingly, it is possible as a male to dance around waving a hankie without it impinging even slightly on your perceived masculinity.