Today was FINALLY leaving day in the Sierras, not that I want to sound like I am complaining or anything... there are definitely worse places in the world to be "stuck". We ordered a cab for way earlier than the bus we wanted to catch - luckily, since it took almost 2 hours to do the journey back to La Falda (the same journey that was 1 hour or so with the owner). During the ride, we were offered sweets, cigarettes and persistent observations about our surroundings ("que linda, si??" "ahh muy bien" "oohh hermosa, si?") since he was a new driver. We thought we had taken a wrong turn but in the end, we got there.
And then came the price. We were told, again by the owner, that it would be 70 - it was 85. I tried to reason with the cabbie with my bad Spanish but he wouldn`t budge. I was pissed. But then we reasoned ourselves out of our annoyance with the fact we didn`t get charged for the transfer there with the owner (which we were told was 50), and also the fact the gaucho didn`t charge us for the last night or the asado. I gave him a good tip.
My headache was still lingering, and I had to take a siesta before the cab had arrived to try and shake it. The bumpy ride in the cab would have been super fun, had C not supplied me with some drugs to ease the pain. Bless her. So I just tried to drink and drink and drink water. So I was always looking forward to the next bathroom stop.
The view out the window of the bus kept me entertained, with the romanticism of Tom Vernon`s writings still lingering in my head... the houses with their stucco peeling; the dogs roaming casually around the streets or, more commonly, sleeping in a random but central walkway; the wire holding bins for rubbish raised high out of the way of the prying dogs; the beautiful dam opening out to fingers of tourism greedily grabbing at travellers´ pockets... We drove through villages, wound around mountains, passed waterways, the scenery was everchanging.
Once back in Cordoba, the sun had disappeared and we headed to E`s house via the internet cafe where I tried to organise just a little bit of my life. The day extra had thrown a little spanner in the works so I had to reorientate myself with what I was actually doing. I knew I had several options for buses to Salta that evening, as I asked when we got to bus terminal, and all I had to do was repack my bag at E`s house. Mi actividade favorito :(
Still, I somehow managed to still have to RUN to the ticket window with 5 mins to spare before my bus, and had to go up, down, up, down, up while everyone told me different things, all the while straining my back against my backpack... it was a stressful time. Eventually, things worked out for the best and I boarded the bus with 2 mins to spare, sweating a storm but glad I was moving on. Cordoba had been nice but it really wasn`t for me... I could hear Salta calling...
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