Note to Bolivia

Sweating wine is something I’ve got used to now, you just have to in the north.  Heading to northern Argentina has meant getting used to red wine and heat.  Though not commonly welcome companions of myself or each other I have been savouring bits of both.   

The first of many 'animal power' shots

  Water and more water  
Iguacu Falls was just as grandiose as expected.  The sheer magnitude of the spray from the falls is hard to believe (in fact Hester didn’t believe me at first).  The park itself felt somewhat Disneyland-ish.  To get around you a ride in a mini-faux-train, there are paved streets, the staff wear a jungle costumes/uniforms, there are rides and the tourists walk around smoking or eating.  I’m not really sure it deserves the name ‘national park’.  It is still a national wonder and the afternoon downpour was certainly appreciated given the intense humidity in Iguacu, the contrast reminded me of Auckland.  

Salta
Salta was where I decided that we should really start observing siesta.   The shops aren’t just closing for fun. Doing anything just isn’t worth the fluid you have to give for it. 
Our hostel in Salta suited the four of us and we definitely let our ‘animal powers’ out by night (and day) too. It was a nice place to chill.  The All Blacks were playing.  Watching the ABs is always fun, probably more so when everyone thinks the sport is a bit whack.   

The bike ride
¨50kms…that will be easy as.  I’ve run 42.2, so riding 50km will be sweet as.¨ These were my famous last words.  The blatantly obvious factors I didn’t consider in the lead up to this 50km ride:

1. It was a desert
2. We were riding during the hottest part of the day
3. Each person will need a lot more than 1.25 litres of water
4. I’ve not ridden a bike for 4 years
5. No matter how much you wish it, there will not be a stall selling a cold Coke anywhere
6. My skin colour is literally blanco (as confirmed by the lady in the chemist when asking for after-sun)

 The 50km ride back from Garganta del Diablo was stunning.  50kms of colourful canyons, the Andes and real cactus all around you. But it was tough.  Really tough.  Tougher than the marathon this year.  Pretty damn satisfying too.  I thought the last 10km would be easy, but the dehydration was really settling in for all of us then.  The light at the end of the tunnel finally came in the form of a gas station 2kms from town.  I won’t forget the image of Bevan’s white face and shrivelled and crusted lips when I came out of the station with some water.  We all helped each other through it and there were a few tears of happiness and relief at the end (although I’m not sure where the body found any fluid to do so).   What a team.  

Northern Argentina has introduced me to some bigger bugs (of the outdoor rather than bed variety), more sweat than I believed possible, bike riding, red wine and locre.  

We will be in and around Cordoba for the next week or so before finally heading up to Bolivia.  We’ve had to farewell the anaconda (Rachael) and otter (Hester) until Christmas.