Salta: From "Good Air" to good energy

So it seems I have successfully transplanted myself from the city named for its "Good Air" (Buenos Aires) to a city underappreciated for its good energy. Salta, the next stop on my route towards Bolivia, unexpectedly hit me in the face with a rush of good vibes when I arrived Friday morning con mochila enorme.

The city itself is quite small and really there isn`t much to do once you`ve seen the few landmarks, as I expected, but for some reason - and maybe it was because I knew I was heading to an exciting, new and (possibly most importantly) CHEAP country soon, and that I was out of Buenos Aires for good - I just loved this city as soon as I got here.

It was noticeably more north of Argentina. The people were becoming darker once again, just like in Iguazu, and I found myself checking each one out once again, just like Iguazu. So I had high hopes for the clubs later that night.

The hostel I chose was obviously one of the cheapest on offer online and the reviews were far and between, so I was taking a stab in the dark with my choice. Turned out to be a super fun place to be, and even in low season as we are, we managed to turn Friday and Saturday night into a party before we headed out at the ridiculously late hours I have become accustomed to partying in in South America.

I befriended the receptionist L, a gay Argentinian who doesn`t speak a lick of English but loves a good party and a good photo shoot, and he probably single-handedly helped me enjoy Salta about 10x more on the budget I am on.

At first, I was annoyed that the beautiful man I hooked up with during my stay in Iguazu was not making my effort to meet me (despite being excited about me coming for weeks, apparently), BUT L again saved the day but filling my then-vacant 6-bed dorm with just one occupant - a hot guy from Buenos Aires - and refusing everyone else). Muchas gracias, my little gay friend.

So needless to say, on the first night, a Friday, I corked my supermarket-bought vino and got stuck into some fine smoke before heading out, then after a bit of a boogie, arrived back at the hostel to wake my little friend to continue the party sans disco lights. Ba ba ba baaaam. He hadn`t come out because he got too wasted before, and it was a good thing because he was tooooo wasted and I would not have wanted to deal with it in public.

Instead, I used the opportunity to try and stalk out all the hot guys I had seen in the street - who had largely been quite positively responsive to my walking past. Well, it seems these guys don`t go to the club I went to, and so I was therefore stuck with straining to see whether those that surrounded me were in fact of legal age. Or in the least bit attractive.

I found 2 good-looking guys. The first, an almost-too-good-a-dancer-to-be-straight guy, was in my good books until he started sweating impulsively. Eww, no thank you, I am not a towel. The next guy turned out to be Israeli, not Argentinian (first bummer) and then after quite some time flexing my best flirting muscles, he tells me he has a gf. I literally almost blistered my heels turning away from him.

My disappointment in the local talent was shortlived, however, soon replaced by disappointment with the talent of the country`s capital... or maybe I am just being too picky. But what´s the deal with guys lacking downstairs here??? Urgh. He was so pretty...

The land of the smooth... and cheap

Sweet! Today I managed to find not only a beautician in downtown Lisbon, but one that was good and cheap! Despite the fact no one spoke English and I was forced to get my male friend to awkwardly translate 'yes she wants it ALL off', the service was great and it was only 12 euros with the good gum wax yaaaaaaaaay - try and beat THAT, london!

But anyway, now that I've reached the borders of Too Much Information land, I will bid you adieu. Probably check in with you in about 2 hours haha