The Never-Ending Bus Ride to Iguazu (Day 43)

I have finally, FINALLY made it to Puerto Iguazu, the closest Argentine town to the Iguazu Falls National Park (it borders Brazil and Argentina). You may have noticed the two skipped days in my Day count. Not a mistake.


In addition to my Iguazu ticket saga that I recounted in an earlier post (see: A Day of Oops), it seems that my roadblocks (literally) in getting to Iguazu weren't over yet. As the Semaña Santa started today (lead-up holidays to Easter in Argentina), yesterday was apparently a Day of Protest for the farm workers of Argentina- protesting the abomidible corruption of the Argentine government in export compensation paid to farmers (so my seatmate explained to me anyway). So, farmers all over Argentina took into the nation's highways with their farm machinery. We hit the first highway blockade after Catamaran, about 4 hours into my trip. I have to admit, it was a little cool to see- bus, trucks and cars backed up as far as you could see with the hub of a mass of farm machines and a rowdy but peaceful army of sign-clad farmers. Everyone was quite patient (as is the way in Argentina) and there were even many supportive honks and chants. When the blockade opened briefly about 1.5hrs later, I had to laugh at the asado (huge BBQ pit) going full bore at the side of the road amongst the combines- I guess protesters have to eat too. With only about 2hrs delay, I figured that we weren't doing too badly all things considered. Until we hit a second blockade somwhere outside San Rosario. This one was much bigger, much rowdier (admittedly a little tense for a while) and with a much larger traffic impacts. Here we sat for 3, yes 3 hours. In the hot sun (I don't know how the protesters managed on the hot pavement) until the police arrived to break open (peacefully thank goodness) the blockade. It took another 1/2hr for the traffic to get moving before we were on our way. Again, trying to be optomistic (whatelse can you do?!), this only put us now 7ish hours behind schedule. Could be worse. Just wait.

I woke up this morning at 7am to see that the bus had pulled into a service station only about 5 hours away from the last roadblock and still over 15hrs away from Iguazu. Here we sat for over 2hrs and not a single person from the Andesmar bus staff would explain. Not how long, or why, nothing. Imagine many grumpy, hot, hungry (the bus had run out of food before supper last night since we were all originally supposed to be debarqued by then) passengers. I'm not sure exactly why were stayed there, even now. Possibly to give the exhausted drivers a rest: possibly to wait out some other blockade the drivers knew was ahead: possible the drivers got detoured and weren't quite sure what to do (at one point, I noticed one driver consulting with a local about directions). Regardless, we were now seriously, seriously late. In fact, bordering on an early arrival time for the successive Andesmar bus (and oddly enough, the bus that I would have been on had I kept my original/mistaken ticket). I laughed. People thought I was nuts, but what else can you do? Sitting at a gas station at 7am, no idea why or how long, in the blazing sun in the middle of who-knows Argentina. That's funny.

We finally got going again around 10am. We ended up switching buses when we finally made our way to Corrientes at about 6pm. This was a good thing since the new bus had a) food, b) toilet capacity, c) rested staff (bless our original Andesmar crew who were bearing down hour-43 on duty) and a direct route to Iguazu. YAY!

When I finally stepped off the bus in Puerto Iguazu, it was 11:30pm- 51hrs after leaving Mendoza almost 2 days earlier. Luckily, the campground where I was to stay wasn't far away and the owner was extremely sympathetic to me, given that the road blockades were all the news around Argentina.

In the end, I guess my host in Mendoza was right that travelling by bus during the holidays would be a hassle. Although I'm sure he had no idea that it would go like this. In the whole scheme of things, I was lucky. Unlike most of the people on my bus, I had no family gatherings held up for me and really had no where I needed to be, as long as I got to my destination. Hopefully, before the full moon turns. If I actually manage to make this full moon tour (I watched the full moon from the bus just in case this was as close as I got to a full moon tour!) at the Iguazu Falls Park, if there even still is another tour to make, it will be a miracle.

The Vineyards of Mendoza by Bicycle (Day 41)

Today was my wine day. I'm in Mendoza, arguably the wine heartbeat of all of Argentina, so I'm due. I had been hoping to find a bike tour company or something like that, just for something different, and it just so happens that the hostel I'm staying at in Mendoza has connections to just the bike company for me. I get a bike, a bottle of water and a map/route down vineyard alley and off I go. Yippeee!

The first place I hit was closed due to a work stoppage (read: worker's strike) so I carried on to the next stop en route which was actually a chocolate and liquors factory. Yum! The "tour" was a bit of a let-down: the biligual part ended after "hello" (thank goodness I've pretty much got a handle on enough Castella to muddle through) and the tour started and ended with our host pointing out each clearly-labelled bottle on display. Hmm. The upside is that we did get to try a shot of any liquor I wanted. I indulged in a chocolate/banana liquor that made my toes curl! It was very tasty, but a few shots of it and I'm sure a person would go blind.

The next stop was to the Bodega (Vineyard) Viña el Cerno. This time, I was in store for a full tour. I was with a completely Castellana-speaking group, so I toured in C astellana/Spanish and was pleasantly surprised how much I actually followed along! We started off in the vineyards looking at the different grapes:

then moved on to where the magic happens in the winery. The winery is all automated, so big machines do the bulk of the work now to extract the grape juice from the pulp and skins and then the juice is carried along pipes into the gigantic fermentation vats. All the vats are encased in the walls and the vine cycles through a few times before sugar is added to convert it to alcohol.

Then it was down to the cellars. It smells really sweet down here from the sugar and humidity in the air. The bottles are stacked really tights to try to keep the light out (we couldn't even use a flash to take photos)


and then the wine goes into big wooden barrels to age, with the type of wood depending on the desired flavour and type of wine.


The labelling is pretty standard- a machine sticks the labels on each side of the bottle. The corks are mechanically inserted after the bottle is vacuum-sealed and then a decorative/identification seal goes over the neck of the whole bottle. Then, voila- a bottle ready for, you guessed it...tasting!

My favourite part of the tour- the tasting room.


The sommelier took us through how to be all snooty and serious about tasting wine (my giggles were not so well received). He showed how to swirl and smell the wine, with something about the way the wine makes you tear when you snort it tells you something (I may have been giggling a little and not totally paying enough attention to understand). But, I now know what it means for wine to "have legs" and what the consistency and colour (bright red for younger wines, darker for aged wines) tells you about its flavour. Then the good part- sipping! We got to taste a Malbec (classic Argentine wine) and a Cabernet. I could actually tell the difference, to my surprise and both were very, very smooth.


Then it was on to the purchasing store part of the tasting gallery, which I craftily side-stepped (how am I to tote around bottles on a bike?) .

Instead, I took some photos, including a really cool display that gives examples of some of the different ingredients that distinguish the different flavors in the wine varieties. Now I have some idea what to look for...


I hopped back on my bike and decided that since I had enjoyed that tour so much, I wouldn't try to top it at another vineyard and instead try something completely different- an olive oil farm. Now you're probably thinking the same thing I did- olives and olive oil in Argentia? But, yes indeed and it was pretty interested. In fact, olive oil is made in a fashion pretty similar to wine. We started off at the olive trees (I've never seen an olive tree before) and heard about how the different varieties and age of the trees ultimately affect the taste of the oil.


Then we went into the factory of which part is also a museum of the old processing machinery used. This one was to separate out the olives from the pulp and pits circa 1900s


which today has been replaced by this shiny one....a striking ressemblance to the juice extractors at the wineries :)


Then the olive liquid goes on to a sorting machine where the pits are extracted and the pulp is centrifuged to separate out the oil. Then the oil gets combined with water and is centrifuged out again to purify the oil. Kinda cool.

We also then were treated to a tasting, on bread and sun-dried tomatoes which we all devoured as the guide explained the differences between the types of oil. That may be why I didn't quite catch what makes a virgin olive oil from an extra virgin variety from a ... oh well. The snacks were tasty and best of all, the whole tour was free!


Afterwards, the day was so beautifully sunny and warm that I decided to take a detour back to the bike shop through the surrounding town of Maipu. I had read in Lonely Planet (I will soon learn to cringe when I hear those two words) that Maipu was a quaint little town worth making time for. For what, I dunno. I didn't see much other than a lot of car accessory and parts stores and the odd convenience store. So, I eventually found my way back to vineyard alley and enjoyed the tree-lined route back to drop off my bike.

Back in Mendoza, I picked up my pack from the hostel (they were sweet enough to let me store it there the whole day) and headed to the bus station to catch my bus for the long trip to Iguazu Falls. I was actually pretty beat by now and not so worried about the 35hr bus trip ahead of me. I had thoroughly enjoyed my time in Mendoza (although I would highly recommend its surrounding Alta Montagna area over the city itself) and with a bottle of wine for the road, I was ready to look ahead to Iguazu!

El Salto in the fog (Day 40)

Today I was heading for El Salto, the little town right close to Potrerillos (where I had stayed the night at Marcello's) where I was told there was a waterfall hike to die for. Partly because it was a heart-stopper of a hike and partly because it was just that beautiful. Unfortunately, today was the first overcast day I´ve had since I´ve been in Argentina. I wasn´t sure if the weather would hold, but figured I have a go and see what happened.


I went to the bus stop for the 09:40 bus and I waited. 09:40 came and went and when a different bus came along at 09:55, I asked when the next bus to El Salto was coming. I did think it odd when the bus driver told me the El Salto collectivo would be by around 09:40, but since I sometimes misunderstand the hours people tell me, I figured it was just late. Rather than just sit by the side of the road, I decided to start walking in the direction of El Salto and flag down the bus whenever it went by.



The rain finally started, so I stopped to pull out my jacket. A man wandered out and started chatting with me, asking where I was headed and why I wasn´t waiting for the bus. When I explained to him that the bus was supposed to come at 09:40 and it was already 10:00, he very kindly pointed out that Argentina had switched to dayligh saving time last night. Oops. Not only was the bus probably on time, but I had scammed myself out of 1hr extra sleep in a nice comfy bed. Grrr.



The bus did eventually come (and on time) and I made my way to El Salto. I stopped in to a nearby hostel for directions to the trail and after speaking with the host, it was apparent that today was not going to be a mountain hiking day. The clouds were low, so I would be hiking in the fog, solo, following an unmarked route in a valley. My better sense took hold (for once) and I decided I would have to wait to see this heart-stopper waterfall on another trip. When I walked out of the hostel, the bus back to Potrerillos and Mendoza was waiting just outside, so I took it as a sign to head back to the city. The bus driver stopped for me in Potrerillos so that I could try to say good-bye and Gracias to Marcello for all the help he's given me over the last week, but he was not home. I'll have to figure out a way to send him a thank-you note....

Back in Mendoza, I was welcomed back to the hostel (Casa Pueblo) where I had stayed a week earlier. I got the last available bed (thank you karma!), then had some time in the afternoon to run errands (exchange last Traveller's cheques, stock up on sunscreen and contact solution, groceries). I spent probably two hours going back and forth to telephone company kiosks, trying to figure out how to recharge my long-distance card, only to discover in the end that I wasn't going to be able to recharge it without an Argentine phone account-no go. I also spent some serious time in yet another Internet cafe (I should have bought stocks in Argentine Internet distribution before coming here- I'd be my own best customer!) trying to get up to date here. When I finally got too tired to type anymore, it was dark outside, so I hustled it back to the hostel safe and sound. I could barely keep my eyes open while I joined a group of Chilean guys who I'd been reunited with from my previous stay for a glass of wine. They made me write down the brand so I'd know what to bring back to Canada :) So, you may have a chance to try it too...

Las Vegas and Valle del Sol (Day 39)

First off, I need to explain why I've been so bent on getting to Valle del Sol. When I was at the park office at Park National Los Glaciares in El Chalten, I had a great chat with a very friendly and enthusiastic girl named Gabi. When she heard that I was eventually headed to Mendoza, she mapped out a whole set of hikes for me, of which my trip to Laga Harcones in Aconcagua was one. The other was a hike in Valle del Sol, to an area with a high lookout and Condors everywhere. Gabi had given me very specific instructions that once I made it to Valle del Sol, I should go to the camping area and ask for Violetta, who would tell me all I would need to know about the route.

When I got up in the morning at Camping Las Vegas, I went in to pay and get some instructions on how to get to Valle del Sol. In trying to explain why I going to Valle del Sol, I told the co-worker and his wife that Gabi in Chalten had told me to find Violetta. Turns out, I had found Violetta and didn't realize it. Violetta is the wife of the co-worker! Ha.

So, Violetta spent the next 20min giving me various instructions (that I half understood) to hikes around the area. It wasn´t until I left and starting wandering around (trying to make sense of the instructions that I half understood) that I realized that Las Vegas and Valle del Sol are really one in the same. Now it all made sense. I had inadvertedly found the camping area that Gabi had told me about and the infamous Violetta, all by chance. Good thing I took the advice of the nice man at the bus stop and didn´t keep going to Valle del Sol!

I ended up having to ask a bunch of other people where the hike trailhead was and was sent to the local hostel to get instructions. The hosts at the hostel were fantastic- they insisted that I set down my backpack for the day with them, they filled up my waterbottle and drew out a map in the sand for me so I could figure out where I was going. The route would take me along mule trails over 7 different increasingly higher peaks until I ended up at the top, over-looking the whole area. Cool, sounds right up my alley. I grabbed my lunch, my now-full waterbottle and headed off.

The hike was fantastic. The ground was solid and the mules had done a good job of stamping out a number of suitable routes. I stuck to the ridgeline as much as I could so I could have a constant lookout as I climbed. About 3/4 of the way up, I noticed huge birds in the sky. I thought I had seen condors earlier in my trip, but I guess I was wrong. What I was looking at now is the biggest flying bird I have ever seen.

I wish my little camera could do justice to the 7 or 8 birds that were flying overhead. The condors were just soaring around, playing in the thermals coming off the ridges I was climbing to. At one point, I got buzzed so close by one coming over the ridge I was standing on that I swear it was less than 50m above me. They are incredible- their wingspan is about 3m across. Amazing.

As I continued on (although I kept my eye on the sky to keep watching the condors above), I spotted two horses tucked into the ridge at the top peak. They were just hanging out there. As I got closer, they scooted away (as much as possible on a peak of 2800m), so I kept my distance and opted for a photo instead. I don´t know the significance of the cross, other than there are a lot of religious shrines in this area. A lot.

When I got to the top, I sat down for a while, soaking in the view and thinking how lucky I am to be here to see this. From this vantage point, I could see pretty much every settlement in the area, from Potrerillos and El Salto (in photo by the lake), to Las Vegas and Valle del Sol, and on the backside Piedras Blancas and all the way up towards Vallecitos (another 2hrs away).

I would have loved to stay for the whole afternoon, but with the growing stormline in the clouds, I decided I should head back before the sky opened on my during a ridge descent. The condors where still overhead, although now moving on. Wow. There were also tonnes of these cute little butterflies everywhere- feasting on what at this altitude I don't know, but they were pretty.

I made it back down with the sky still in tact, which gave me an opportunity to get a good shot of where I had been. You can see the entire ridgeline that I followed up to the top peak.

When I got back to the hostel, there was a piece of lemon tart waiting for me and a whole crowd of warm people to chat with. I spent the rest of the afternoon just hanging around with everyone and relaxing. As I was leaving and saying my goodbyes, the hostel host ran and grabbed a pamphlet for me so that the next time I came to Valle del Sol, I would stay with them. Right away, I recognized the pamphlet as the same one my hosts in the hostel in Mendoza had given me for a hostel their friend ran in Valle del Sol. Ha again. I love good coincidence.

I caught the last bus back to Potrerillos where Marcello had made up his spare room for me to sleep in. I´m pretty excited to sleep in a real bed, with real pillows and comforters, without having to share the room with 5 other bunkmates. I tired from another great hiking day and can't wait to sleep.

A day in Potrerillos (Day 38)

Yesterday, Emilio had been trying to talk me into going on what sounded like a spectacular (and physical) glacier hike today. But, he slept in (I think his liver had a serious workout last night) and so I decided to take it as a sign to head off back to Potrerillos with my eye set on getting to Valle del Sol by the end of the day. Catching the bus back from Puente del Inca was an experience. I was told three different times by three different people. As it was, the buses were all running anywhere from 0.5-2hrs late with nearby road construction and just general Argentina time delays. But, believe it or not, the bus I was looking for arrived within 10min of it's scheduled time (when I finally pegged down what the correct time was supposed to be) and I was off.



One the way out of Puente del Inca, I had a chance to see the Pentitentes ski area. I had been chatting with the manager last night and he was trying to sell me on coming back in the winter to coach their kids' program. It did sound tempting, with a vertical of 4000-ish metres and looked like it had some pretty decent steeps! Dad, maybe you should come and check it out :)



When I got back to Potrerillos, the next bus to Valle del Sol wasn´t supposed to be until morning, so Marcello suggested I get to Piedras Blancas for the night and then make my way back to Valle del Sol tomorrow. So, spent the afternoon chatting with Marcello (my new Potrerillos buddy) and hanging out with Frederico, who was so cute that I was tempted to smuggle away in my pack :)



It was actually really nice to just chill a bit. The sky was clear and the view in Potrerillos is beautiful- right on the water, surrounded by Sierras and a clear blue sky. I also realized how tired I was, so Frederico and I had a nap in the sun.


I eventually made my way down to the bus stop for Piedras Blancas and was soon joined by a very nice man that I had met earlier in the day at Marcello's store. We got to chatting and I told him I was heading to Piedras Blancas and hoping to find a camping area before dark. He suggested instead that I go see one of his co-workers who ran Camping Las Vegas, the town before my ultimate destination of Valle del Sol. Super! He even wrote down all the info for me, including his cell phone number in case I got stuck and then put me on the bus. I love nice people!


Half way through the bus ride, the sun had set and I couldn´t see a thing. So, I decided to take the nice man's advice and just settle for camping at Las Vegas and make early tracks in the morning. I found his co-worker and his wife hand-pìcked a nice campsite for me. It was the warmest night that I've camped yet in Argentina and the stars were out in full force. Life is good :)

Puente del Inca and Aconcagua (Day 37)

I crawled out of my cave of blankets this morning all warm and rested (the temperature is a lot colder at this altitude). After watching a mule drive stampede right outside the hostel and a little breakfast, I sat down with ever-affectionate Emilio and he laid out a few nearby hikes for me. The first one of the day was up to a nearby peak that was to offer a great lookout of the whole area, including Aconcagua. The second (Emilio wasn't sure I'd make it all in one day...he doesn't know me...) was in Parque Provincial Aconcagua, to get as close as a non-expeditioner could to the mighty mountain.


Puente del Inca is a super small village which basically just straddles the highway for about 2km. That's it. And as I said before, with the mountains so close, it's pretty wedged into the valley. So, the lookout should give me a good and long view. Unfortunately, the "path" (you just follow the mule trails) was through the equivalent of deep gravel. Yuck. Super annoying (and sketchy) to climb through. Even when I tried to hug the secondary spires, it wasn't much better. And, since Puente del Inca sits at 2720m to start, I had some elevation to contend with too. But, I did see some cool things en route to help distract my growing irritation. First off, I came across this flock of little green birds that looked a lot like budgies.


Then, about 200m from the summit, I stopped to watch a herd of horses and mules being driven around and down the neighbouring cliff. It's crazy how adapted they are to the terrain and how they can fly up and down the ridges like it's nothing.


When I finally reached the top, I had a bird's eye view of the whole area, including the peaks of Aconcagua and its neighbours



and some pretty cool formations on the mountain tops.

I sat down for a bite to eat and was soon joined by local on horseback, who was out to check on his cattle and horses spread all over the nearby ridge.

All their equipment looks a lot different than we use and their horses are super sturdy and quiet (unlike ours). Most of the farmers navigate the landscape on horseback and riding is second nature to everyone here.

The way back down the climb was only slightly better than the way up and this time there were quite a few bum slides and encounters with the prickly desert weeds here. Grrr. When I got back to the hostel, I took some time to snap a few shots,

poke around the village and the Puente del Inca monument. The Puente del Inca is a hot springs area (now closed unless you can sneak into the water under the cover of darkness to avoid the Gendarmia) that used to be an active spa area. You can still see the ruins of some of the old spa buildings and the yellow sulphur deposits that have built up over the years.

Since it was only early in the afternoon on a clear day, I took the opportunity to go ahead with the second hike for the day to the Parque Provincial Aconcagua. Although this had been the reason I wanted to visit this area, I guess it didn't really sink in until now how serious Aconcagua mountain (6959m) really is. There's a cemetery just outside of the village for all the fallen climbers (and it's done good business over the years) and a mountain doctor at the bridge to the summit route who approves blood-oxygen levels of everyone who tries to continue past. Yeah, this place is serious.

I had only planned to hike to the viewpoint for Aconcagua at Lago Harcones, since this gives the best panoramic view of the mountain. Since the mountain is so big, the best view is really from quite far away.

Funny, the mountain didn't strike me as big as it really is, but I had to remind myself that it's in a neighbourhood of mountains in excess of 6000m on all sides. Even still, I couldn't help my own curiosity though, so I did venture a little further in. But being that Aconcagua is so big, the view isn't much different from here.

With all the hype and intrigue for this mountain, it's easy to see why it draws people in. I found myself really asking if I could do the hike to the base camp. Being that I'm not prepared for this, and I've had some luck on a lot of hikes here, I figured it was best not to tempt fate. But, the next time round, I'm definitely going to give it a try. I talked to some people in the hostel who have made a sub-based camp trek and they had lots of problems with the altitude (although not serious). I'm curious to see how I'd make out with some altitude....

On my way out of the park, I had to step aside for a number of different pack mule processions, heading home after packing in rations and supplies into the climbers at base camp and above.

When I got back to the hostel, Emilio invited me to join the asado he was preparing.

Hungry from my day hikes, I was an easy sell, especially when I got a glimpse of what was in store!

These asados are really social- friends and family from all over join in and eat, drink and laugh together. It's a really fun part of the very social Argentine culture!

A day of Oops (Day 36)

So today was my moron-Tera day. I haven't really had one yet this trip, so I figured I'd get it all out in one day. Today went a little something like this...

I planned to take a bus out of the city to the Alta Montagna (High Mountains) area, where I was told there would be tonnes of hiking (the home of Aconcagua, America's highest peak). However, when I had been chatting with my hostel host yesterday about my travel plans to head to Iguazu Park next week, he pointed out that the upcoming Feria Santa and Pasquas (Easter) might put a hitch in travelling. I haven't figured out what Feria Santa (Thursday-Saturday) is about other than some religious holiday set, and of course Easter (Good Friday and Easter Sunday) and then tagged onto the end of this holiday run in a Memorial Day (like Remembrance Day) on Monday. So, a week from Thursday through to Monday could be a sort of party lock-down in Argentina. With this bug in my ear, I went on to the bus terminal anyway and got on the bus to my first out-of-town destination of Potrerillos.

By the time we got out of the city, I had decided that I really needed to figure out how, or if, I could get to Iguazu Falls next week (in time for a full moon walk), or if I should go now to avoid the holiday clog and go to the Alta Montagnes outside Mendoza during the Argentine holidays. So, basically I was taking the bus out to Potrerillos only to turn right back around to Mendoza to arrange my next travel. Oops. But, the bus ride was hardly a loss. The sky was perfectly clear and the bus ride to Potrerillos follows the valleys of the Sierra and you get some incredible views.

Second oops: I missed the next bus back to Mendoza. It literally came 3min after the bus let me off in Potrerillos and by the time I realized that it was a bus to Mendoza, it was gone. Oops. So now I had to figure out when and how to get the next bus. This escapade eventually let me to a local rafting outfitter, Marcello, who is the ticket agent for the local bus company and happens to be a really nice guy. He took me under his wing, sat me down, fed me some candy, helped me figure out my bus and future travel plans (he assured me that since the holidays were a tourist trap, everything would still be open and running albeit a little slower..) and even mapped out where I should hike in the area. *Another example of when a curveball in your "plans" ends up presenting something unexpectedly great*

Back in Mendoza, I was able to get one of the last few seats to Iguazu for the full moon hike (I still think the holidays are going to make everything full) and then catch another bus back to the Alta Montagnes area, but this time further in to Puente del Inca- home of Parque Provincial Aconcagua!

Since this bus ride was at least twice the length as my earlier trip to Potrerillos, we made quite a few pit stops. During one stop, I was working out how long it would take to get from Mendoza to Iguazu (a little over 38hrs) and realized that I had in fact booked my ticket for one day too late to make the March 20th full moon. Oops again. As luck would have it, our next pit stop was at a little mall that happen to have a kiosk for the bus company I had booked to Iguazu. What odds! I frantically rushed in and begged (in panick-induced shaky and blabbering Castellana) the good woman at the counter to help me fix my ticket that I had bought not 2hrs earlier- and in the next 5 min before the bus left without me. Bless her heart that she did it for me. Crazy tourists. So, after this time checking the date about 30 times before I got back on the bus, my travel plans were finally set. Phew.

The rest of the bus ride to Puente del Inca was incredible. Unlike the mountains in the south that are far off in the distance, these mountains start right at the road and plunge up to the sky.

So, the bus follows through all the valleys and in and out of tunnel cut into the mountains. It's awesome. As the time wore on and was starting to get dark, I realized another oops I made. My ticket to Puente del Inca had an arrival time of 21:40, which I (mis) interpreted as 8:40pm- should give me enough light when I arrived to seek out a place to camp. As 8:40pm came and went with me still on the bus and another 80km left to Puente del Inca, I suddenly realized that I wouldn't arrive until long after dark at 9:40pm. OOPS. Finding a place to camp in the pitch dark in a town of 30 people (who start indulging around 7pm) was going to be...interesting.

When I got to Puente del Inca, the bus dropped us off in front of a Hosteria- lucky for me. But, when I went inside, they were full and pointed me to a hostel behind in the old train station. (I had actually read about this hostel in my travel book, but the book assured me that with the insurgence of the train system, the hostel would be closed.) I stumbled around in the dark, climbing over and falling into the train tracks until I finally got to the hostel door. Lucky for me, there was space and the host was this really fun, outgoing guy (Emilio). He made me supper, showed me around this super-cool hostel that has a bar in the old (c. 1902) round station office

and fixed up this superb bed under a pile of warm blankets for me. I fell asleep all warm and cozy, surprised that in all my moronic bumbles of the day that I had arrived in one piece, let alone to such a great place.

Hopefully today was the bulk of my "oopses" because my luck can't hold out much more, I'm sure!