Traveling Alone.
After saying goodbye to the beautiful city of buenos Aires and getting the first artist to be part of my project, I left to salta on a 18 hour bus ride north west. Bus travel has not really been part of my life so I was pleased to learn the buses have two levels and almost fully reclinable seats. The only thing is that my seat neighbor decided to make like home and take off his shoes... I've never prayed for a stuffy nose until that moment. Thankfully the combination of the outside cold and the over cranked heater inside the bus meant my wish was granted. So breathing through my mouth I managed to sneak in a few hours of sleep.
Arrived in Salta, to find a city under the cover of low clouds, not to see the sun for a while. If Buenos Aires had been a busy city with lots of activity, people constantly streaming past you with concerned faces and a pace that indicated they needed to be somewhere, Salta was not. It seemed a calmer place but the cold pushed it to feel a more lonely place. I got to my hostel to find it mostly empty save for an older gentleman and a nice lady who offered me mate. I, pretending to know what I was doing, accepted and stirred the mate a bit and managed to clog the "bombilla" (for those of you unfamiliar you drink yerba mate with a cup, also called mate, filled to the top with the herb and hot water is poured until full. Then you use the "bombilla", which is a straw usually metallic, to suck up the water as it makes tea at the bottom. You drink until all the water is gone then you pour water again and give it to your guest or drink another serving for yourself.) I smiled and apologized and though she was nice about it, I could tell she regretted being so kind.
The empty hostel made for a quiet evening as I sat outside in one of the small yards and smoked a cigarette, browsing the Internet waiting for the last moments of light to disappear. Until I heard a familiar trio of voices coming from one of the rooms. When I was 90% sure I knew them, I knocked and found it was Rachel, Clare and Cameron, three smart young travelers I had met in Buenos Aires. After the mandatory surprise expressions and the oh my gods they kindly invited me to join them on their road trip to Cafayate, a place about two hours south of salta. Oddly enough I had a lead on an artist there whom I wanted for my project so I accepted. They had arranged to rent a car and drive there, it was the best way to travel because we could stop and admire the truly beautiful landscape of mountains, small rivers, giant rock formations and winding picturesque roads that lead the way to our destination.
Cafayate is a small town surrounded by vineyards. Although not as famous as Mendoza, it still has a good selection of local wines you can enjoy. Which I did. The town itself revolves around a small square surrounded by shops and restaurants that although were clearly targeted toward tourists, weren't too overbearing. That must be the reason I bought a poncho. I also needed a poncho... so yeah, poncho.
The trio and I decided to stay together for the convenience of filling a room at the hostel and because we actually got along well. We drank some of the local wine and beer together, ate together and enjoyed some of the sights together, generally got to know each other during our stay. I even managed to procure a new nickname. We stayed at a hostel called Casa de Arbol, a very nice calm place with live music in the evenings and a curated courtyard full of plants and flowers. it was a bit hard to leave.
After a one night stay that turned into a two night stay, photographing a very interesting painter for the project, a flat tire and almost running out of gas while on a dirt road crossing a stunning national park on our way back to Salta, It was time for goodbyes, and we went our separate ways.
Traveling alone was something I was a bit scared of. Not for the concern of safety or anything of the sort, but because the idea of spending that much time by myself with myself isn't something I've practiced and I tend to get a bit lonely. I don't even know if I like me. This short time traveling has pushed me to get to know myself a bit more but there has always been a friendly face to chat with and get to know, or in this case three. So traveling alone doesn't have to mean lonely, I like that, because I'm starting to get on my nerves.
From the left, Clare, Cameron and Rachel watching the sunset near Cafayate Argentina.