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So we're a tad behind in blogging. It's hard keeping this thing up so this will be a long-ish entry. Now, where were we?

Even though I got eaten alive by killer bugs in Cordoba, it's still Jess' new fave city. But to her credit, the city has a distinct vibe as it's a huge university town (and the 3rd largest city in Argentina). Sure, there was not a single Chicken Shack, 24 hour Burger King or Joy Yee's in sight, but it could still give Evanston a run for its money...Yeah, we did the tourist bit, visiting churches (duh), the 2nd oldest university on the continent, the Jesuit Block and even climbed up a mountain on a day trip to Cosquin. But really, we were just chilling like Bob Dylan in Cordoba. We met a great group in our hostel and managed to wake up after noon-- four days in a row. And we got to meet up with Kirsti again one last time before she left for London! The gringo trail is so small...

From Cordoba, we took yet another overnight bus to Mendoza, the Napa Valley of Argentina. (If I understood one of our tour guides right, which could easily have not been the case, 70% of Argentina's wine is produced in Mendoza). Oh. Yeah. I am so over buses. Hate to be a broken record, but I'm getting sores! It ain't pretty. We weren't traveling solo though as we'd picked up a Frenchie in Cordoba: Victor aka Hickey Vicky. Backpacking is a strange culture. You tend to trust fellow backpackers and pick up new travel partners quickly and easily.

We arrive. We shower. We rest and then off to explore Mendoza! Lesson learned: don't book a hostel outside the city center. I just picked a recommended hostel out of my Footprints book but forgot to check where it was actually located. The city is super cute but definitely becoming a tourist trap as it's a new stop on the gringo trail. I bet it's alive and happenin during the summer, but since it is the winter and off-season and all, it was relatively slow and quiet (esp on a Monday and Tuesday). We went sharking for friends, visiting at least 6 other hostels in the city, but alas, it got all free willy in the end with our loose fins. But we did get in some competitive games of 2x2 multiplication and country capitals and logic games and basic algebra problems... at the bar... in public... Perhaps those are the real reasons why no new friends were made in Mendoza...

Even at the apex of my bug-induced misery, I did get in some wine-tasting fun. Day 1, we did a guided tour of 2 bodegas (and visited a church too, but of course) and tasted a red and a white at each place. We were good and actually poured out the wine after each sip rather than drinking the full glass. I admit it did hurt to throw away alcohol, but I am an "adult" now. The next night, the three of us did our own cheese and wine-tasting at an upscale restaurant in town, Azafran. We're so fancy. Ten reds later, I know that I hate merlot and love cabernet sauvignon and a blend wine of malbec, cabernet sauvignon and tempranillo. Jess hates wine, esp red wines, and so every wine received a score of less than 4 (out of 10). Yeah, we were dorks and scored each glass. Big deal!

Our last day in Mendoza was spent hunting down medical care (see entry below), grabbing lunch and wasting the rainy, overcast day away in a cafe. We journaled; we read; we sudoku'ed-- all for the cost of one cafe con leche (well, a hot chocolate for Jess). I'll miss days like those soon enough. Also, Jess and I have decided that we're collecting shoes as souvenirs in South America and so I splurged on a pair of purple and yellow Nikes in Mendoza. Who needs postcards and shot glasses and local artesanal goods?

Then, it was time to say goodbye to Victor and to Mendoza. He was heading straight to Salta while we were making a pitstop in Tucuman for a few nights and maybe Tafi del Valle, which supposedly had amazing vistas. However, travel plans quickly change when you're on the road.

We had the worst bus ride (to date) from Mendoza to Tucuman. We thought it'd be smart to sit in the first row on the second floor of the double decker. But in hindsight, if there's ever an accident, we would've been the first to go! Hm, interesting how the bus companies like putting gringos in those seats. I also spent the entire night scratching my arms and hands, even with the socks on, and managed to get calamine lotion all over my clothes and sheet. I was not a happy camper when we rolled into town and was even unhappier to see it rainy and all around icky in Tucuman. After checking into a pretty dead hostel, we went hunting for food, where I found pieces of glass in my lunch. Delicioso.

We had a bit of a scare as some Americans had told us in the bus terminal bathroom (clearly, a logical water cooler location to strike up conversations with strangers, traveling is weird) that visas were required as of April 1 to enter Bolivia. Pre-departure, the US State Dept website had made no mention of it and now here we were, one week prior to crossing the border, and freaking out about traveling to Santiago or Buenos Aires to get to a Bolivian consulate. One good thing outta Tucuman was the fastest internet connection and newest computer we've used since we've been in South America, let alone at a hostel, for free. I readily admit that I'm an internet junkie so I had no qualms using the visa scare as pretense to waste hours on the good ol world wide web. After a quick email response from the Bolivian consulate in the US though, we were saved. No visas needed. For now. Evo Morales did decree on Jan 1 of this year to impose stricter requirements on Americans to stick it to us for making Bolivians jump through hoops to get into the US.

Perhaps it was unfair of us to write off Tucuman completely, but we just weren't feeling it. Since it was nasty out, we didn't even walk around town and instead, jumped ship for Salta after one night. Over and out, Tucuman!

the sister that doesn't use "y'all" multiple times in one sentence,
Antoinette

p.s. We caved and had Mexican food. In Mendoza. In Argentina. I have been duly unimpressed by South American fare so when that guacamole hit my mouth, it was heavenly. I will never again take food for granted. I love it. I live for it. So it's painful when the only spices known and used in Argentina is salt, salt and more salt. For the love of god!

Graduation Hall at la Universidad Nacional de Cordoba (illegal photo op)

Barely alive and ridiculously out of shape atop Cerro Pan de Azucar

Whizzing and boinking our way through Cordoba (with Danimal from CT)

Inscription on bottom left -- 
distance of Texas from Cordoba: not far enough

bodegas in mendoza

mendoza

american, american, frenchie

tucuman