After crossing the border river from Bolivia into Argentina things appeared totally different. It was still the poorest region of Argentina and there was still a shabby border town but the road quality was excelent and as we continued away from the border the land seemed totally developed. In the fields the hunched over and sweaty workers in the hot sun were replaced with expensive tractors plowing at 10 times the rate as twenty men. Houses were substantially larger and surrounded by flowers and trees. So far I was liking it.

As we arrived into Salta we stepped off the bus and into a modern gleaming white bus terminal. An automatic door slid open infront of us. Woah! very different. We found a nice hostel and it was still very resonably priced at about 6 US. Walking around town we found the gorgeous Plaza 9 de Julio an immaculately clean colonial plaza with fountains and palm trees in the center and then fringed by grand arched building all with patio cafes full of people sipping expressos and drinking Stella Artois beer. People are all taller, whiter and generally attractive. I could swear that I was drugged and taken to Italy but the Argentine flag flying in the center of the plaza convinced me not. The reason for this stark contrast is of course partly due to a large number of european immigrants recieved during the wars but probably also the classic climate theory that equatorial climates are simply to hot to think and produce efficciently. Thus most of the worlds richest and most efficient nations lie in the north and apparently some in the south in more temperate climates. Still it was pretty damn hot here and the locals accknowledge this with there enormous siesta from midday to 5 when the city would reawaken and bustle madly into the evening.

Me and Sam were ready for another night on the town so we found out where the wednesday night party was. It led us to a massive club lit up with purple lights in an empty park on the edge of town. Inside was one of the largest clubs Id ever seen. We were dancing like crazy when suddenly my American girlfriend that I said goodbye to two weeks before in Northern Bolivia popped out of nowhere on the crowded dance floor and then some English girls who we met in La Paz aswell. Needless to say after that we partied through the night like it was our duty as travellers.

We enjoyed fine beers and amazing Argentinian steaks at the stylish side walk cafes for a couple more days and then headed South with the girls to Cordoba, Argentinia´s second city. Cordoba was very pleasent, clean and modern with long pedestrian shopping streets but nowhere as charming as Salta. We watched the football team Taller de Cordoba, one of Argentinas premier teams, play but it was a pretty hideous rainy day for watching outdoor sports so it was not as special as the game we watched in Bolivia. After a nice dinner of steaks, cheese, and wine we said another and definetly final goodbye and hurried off to catch our night bus to Mendoza, Argentinia´s wino paradise at the edge of the Andes. I forget to mention how splendid the night buses are here in Argentina. All of them modern double deckers but the best of them all is Flecha Bus with snacks dinner, wine, whisky, and then breakfast. With only three giant seats in a row that recline almost flat and have a kick that comes out to rest your legs on. Travelling in good luxury and for less than 2 dollars per an hour of travel. So far everything in this country seems to good to be true. Here Im traveling in luxury but still as a budget traveller, this was definetly not possible prior to 2001 before the economic collapse when inflation strongly devalued the peso against the American dollar. Why go to Western Europe where budget travellers can only watch jealously as people enjoy the finer things in life. Here you have excellent food, beer, chocolate, wine, coffee, beautiful cities full of beautiful people and value accomadations all for around 20 dollars a day.

Waking up well rested this morning in Mendoza we were pleased to have many people beg us to come stay at there fabulous hostels for all around 7 dollars a night. We got one with a pool, ping pong, and a pool table. The streets in this city are covered in trees, canoping all over the wide mellow streets. The side walks are tiled with porcelain or brick and polished clean twice a day by proud shop owners. Again a very European feeling city distinctively wealthy with private houses surrounded by gardens, weve only been here for a half day but its certainly one of the nicest most attractive cities weve ever been to. We got some information and first thing tomorow were going to buy our permits for Aconcagua the roof of America. At 6960m (22841 ft.) it is a pyramid of rock the tallest in the world outside of the Himalayas. Climbing it will be a 12 day endevor atleast but with a little good weather and a serious effort we should reach the peak safely and return to Mendoza in two weeks time. At the worst time possibly possible somebody stole my camera from our hostel dormitory, my pride and enjoy full of great photos from several weeks of travelling. I tried my best to find it but there was little I could do so in the morning I sadly left the hostle leaving any chance of getting it back behind. This was the last day we could enter the park with our permits otherwise we would have to buy mid season permits for 220 US dollars.

My Aconcagua write up is to long and deserving of its own page so if you want to read about our epic climb trying to reach the toptip of the South American continent go to this page www.Anconcagua.blogspot.com or hit the link on the right side of the screen.

Here continues the rest of my journey in Argentina.

Feeling incredibly dirty and very tired but still better than I ever had before in my life we returned to Mendoza on a late night bus. I had just accomplished one of my greatest goals in life by reaching the peak of Aconcagua. Now with two of my most important life goals accomplished: Aconcagua, and crossing Canada by bicycle I wasn´t sure what to do with myself so all I could think to do was relax and take it easy. Arriving and checking in to our hostel at 2 Am we still had plenty of time to go sit at a bustling sidewalk cafe/bar and order pizza and giant beers. In the morning we had a swim in the pool and took it very easy lying about in the sun, we went to a store and bought Aconcagua T-shirts which I propdly wore for the next week until it absolutely needed to be washed. A couple more days of relaxing eating feasts of steak and fine pasta accompanied by good beer and excelent wine we were ready and anxious to get back into the mountains. Sam had won some money playing poker on the internet and was generously offering to rent a car down in Patagonia.

We bought our bus ticket for the 18 hour bus trip down to Bariloche a ski resort city that served as the gateway to many mountain parks including the 7 lake area which was supposed to be great for fishing and camping. Also Volcan Lanin which is an exceptionally beautiful mounatin with a fun and adventurous climbing route up the glacier.We arrived in Bariloche and couldn´t help but notice how similar it felt to a Canadian ski resort town. Set on a picturesque lake with snowy mountains across on the other side, pine log built cabins and hotels. We rented a tiny little 2 door Chevrolet Corsa at a low cost of $230 US for a week. At the supermarket we stocked up on rich foods. Now we were car camping and rather than carrying everything on our backs everything was simply thrown into the cars trunk so we bought: Fine cheeses, olives, steak, baguettes, instant cappucino, eggs, deli ham, beer, whisky, some really nice wine, canned oysters. What the hell! Live well when you can.

Heading north we soon turned off the main highway and into the park, wild flowers were flourishing along the sides of the winding paved road that led us into greener and taller mountains. The rivers we passed by were perfectly clear and the lakes shimmering blue. The pavement ended and here started the Corsa Rally as we called it( Chevrolet Corsa). Winding roads roller coastering up and down in and out of old growth forests. Our car was made for it, actually not at all but it was a rental so we pushed her hard drifting throught turns and blasting through pot holes. We found a dreamy place to camp sheltered among tall trees on a large lake with green mountain slopes on all sides. Sam immidiatley went to cast his fly into the lake and after no more than twenty minutes pulled out a small but almost 2 pound trout. I had purchased a single day permit for the next day so we ended up camping there again and fishing all day only leaving to drive to town for more steak, more olives, and more beer. We were living the life there, it had such a similar feel to the one I get while camping in Canada, except of course minus the wild and savage feeling you get when you know that such wild animals as bears, cougars, and wolves are lurking nearby.

Not long after entering Argentina three weeks before we had passed south by the Tropic of Capricorn, much farther south than I had ever been before. Leaving the tropics it occured to me that perhap the farther south we went we might find it became similar to Canada, an intriguing thought. So fasr this seemed to be proving true and I was loving. Still we were only at 40 degrees south and still 15 degrees from the tip of the continent. The thought of making it down to 49 degrees and then further eventually to Ushuaias, the worlds most southern city, made me ecstatic. Unfortunately I had a dilemna, actually a rather good one though. When leaving Bolivia me and Sam had happened to meet an Argentinian/Spaniard who worked for Lonely Planet as a research traveller. We became friends and he mentioned that they were looking for some people who could sign up to work for a long time. Getting paid to travel essentially. I told him that I for sure more than anything wanted the job and had infinite time if I needed to sign a contract. Great he said Ill get back to you, so then in Bariloche I got the email saying that I had a good chance to get the job but I had to book it straight up to Tarija, Bolivia to sign forms and apply. This was a terrible dimlemna for me. There was absolutely no circumstnace that I would rather be in than to be in Northern Patagonia at the beggining of summer with a extremely well equipped backpack. So unfortuate to leave Patagonia after only tasting its splendour but I knew that this was a once in a lifetime oppurtunity and that if I passed it up I could possibly regret my whole life. Still I knew that I was already in a possibly once in a life time situation and I could and in some way definetly will regret atleast until I one day return.

Anyway back to the park. After a few very happy days of fishing, drinking, and Corsa Rally we headed up to Volcan Lanin National Park. Upon entering the park we could see the enormous Volcano´s base with the its upper reaches shrouded in thick cloud. In the valley towards its base we passed through an odd and beautiful natural forest of monkey puzzle trees. The first time Id seen this kind of trees growing naturally. We checked in with the warden and he warned us it was very unlikely we would get to climb to the summit because bad weather was expected for another 4 days. Apparently when this mountain has bad weather it has really bad weather. On the hike up the trail climbed along the top of an enormous morraine called the fish´s spine. Here incredible gusts tackled us unexpectledly from all sides many in the forms of wirl winds and all carrying fine dust that stung the face when it hit. The higher we got the stronger the winds were and atleast a couple of times each of us were knocked right over by gusts well exceeding 100km. This was the strongest wind that I had ever seen, stronger than on Aconcagua, stronger than the hurricane in Newfoundland. We arrived at the refuge at 2700m to happily find a solid prefab mountain shelter. We had only 1000 m left to the peak but were certainly not going to try anything unless the weather was considerably better. I woke up at 3 in the morning to the sound of my alarm and violenlty shaking walls, I took a look outside but it was pure shit. The same winds but now gusting atleast 125km/hr and carrying snow and sleat that stung my hand when I reached out beyond the sheltering wall of the refuge. Sadly but certainly the climb was off, I went back to sleep and in the morning we hiked down in slightly calmer winds but with deep snow banks from the night. This is mountaneering; sometimes you just cant climb, its better to live for the next climb.

We drove to another area of the park and found a gorgeous lake to camp on which we had another late night steak barbeque on the open fire. In the morning we drove back to Bariloche following a valley walled by spectacular rock formations and spires. Back in town we met some other fisherman that Sam was to head back into the park with. From here I had a 45 hour bus journey back up to Bolivia to try to get the wonder job. I said adios to Sam and we both definetly agreed that had been an absolutely wicked trip over the last two months. From here I was on my own to wander the continent. Never alone as a backpacker though as there is always heaps of other travellers always looking to make friends and have a good time. Not knowing at all if I had the job or where it would take me I boarded the bus gambling that it was the right decision even though there was no place in the world that I would rather be than in Patagonia, the southern reflection of Canada.

So here I am back in Mendoza having just finished an 18 hour bus trip and boarding another 18 hour bus in 50 minutes to Salta in northern Argentina. From there only about 8 hours left to go and in a way IM excited to return to Bolivia where its hard to spend money if you try. Also IM thrilled if I get this job. For a long time I´ve really wanted a job that allows me to travel. Idealy as a writer or a photographer, getting paid to do what I love seems like a pretty good life. I really like carpentry a productive job with amazing rewards but the realitly is that it sometimes its quite stressful and eventually hard on your body; Id rather wear myself out climbing mountains or racing marathons. So I better run and Ill let you know how it goes, wish me luck.

Another 18 hours of dull Argentinain landscape passed by me. Similar to the plains east of the Rocky Mountains here lying east of the Andes is an enormous and dull plain that stretches on as far as the eye can see and then so much further. I felt glad though that I was not crossing it by bicycle. Finally I woke up groggy and got off the bus and into sweltering early morning heat, I was almost back in the tropics. Rather than to continue on without a break I decided to spend a relaxing day in Salta where I had been more than 3 weeks before. I went to my favortie restaraunt and had a massive steak dinner to be my last of Argentinas wonderful steak. The afternoon was a long siesta as I was exhausted from 2 days of busing. Then in the evening I awoke along with the rest of the city and was back in the beautiful plaza patio restaraunt drinking beer with some other travellers.

Early the next morning I caught a bus heading for the border where the heat became very uncomfortable. It took me more than an hour to get my Argentinian exit stamp because the custom officer took the stamp with him to eat lunch. I find it much more tolerable to wait at customs when entering a country than when leaving; I think the other people waiting in the steamy customs shack would have agreed with me. Crossing the international bridge into Argentina the opposite way as myself was a long line of Argentinians who came to Bolivia to buy their Christmas gifts to save money. Across the bridge I had my tourist card and a stamped passport within minutes.

Back in Bolivia and back in the third world. Back where people try to sell you everything and everything from the streets to the houses is much less perfect. But I noticed how friendly and fun the people were right away, many of the young kids would smile at me and say Hola and all the grown ups were in no rush for anything, not as concerned with time nor fashion they had more openess and expression when they talked to me. Street food was everywhere and as tempting as always, twice I had bad results from 17 cent street burgers and twice I promised myself never again but all the restaraunts were in siesta so I ended up eating two anyway. I bought a bus ticket but the bus never came, finally I realized that the hour had changed crossing the border and it was actually not that late. Finnally A very cramped and sweaty bus leaving 40 minutes late took me 4 hours away to Tarija where I met my friend in the bus station.


Oh, and even though I lost my camera full of photos in time Ill get Sam to send me photos so you can see what its all about down there because it really is beautiful.