From Argentina to Bolivia.

Tilcara is a small North Argentinian town, 3 hrs from the Bolivian border. Nico suggested I spend the night here before heading across the border. When I climed off the bus, it was clear that the wheels on my bag we going to be of no use here. I unzipped the harness and loaded the bag onto my back for the very first time. I stepped off the concrete bus terminal and into the wild wild west, well north in actual fact, but the imagry has still been created. Though unlike the wild west, there were not many stallions with cowboys astride, spitting chewed tobacco into the dusty streets. Instead, there were lama wagons with old men spitting coca leafs from the massive ball in the side of their cheek.
I took to the streets, not sure of where I was headed, I turned off the ‘main’ road and headed up the rocky side street cursing my choice of footware. My thongs were slipping and twisting on every rock, it was time to unpack the hiking shoes if I was to conquer this town without a twisted ankle. I stumbeled into the first hostel I could find and was greeted by the most delightful and bubbly Argentinan woman. She ushered me to my room (little cave) and excitedly told me about the bathrooms in her limited English, I missed most of it though assumed I could find a shower on my own.
Grabing my tacky romance novel, (not the one i am writing:) and after 5 minutes of reading, I commenced my lengthy siesta in the hammock, surrounded by the stunning rocky mountain scape. As the wind picked up, I headed for the warmth of my cave and curled myself up in the sinking mattress. When I emerged, the sun was hanging low in the sky, I wandered down to the market in search for a new bag. Sorry Amber, your bags days were numbered! I ended up buying my first lama shawl. It's cream and soft, though very hairy. It's like i have Alaska climbing all over me everytime i wear it. I think this will become her new rug.

After a quiet night alone in my dark little cave i jumped on a bus to the Bolivian border. It's an interesting, confusing, long and disorganised border crossing. You have to enter the country then line up down the street, in front of the shops in order to 'enter the country'. I then learned that the train to my destination, Uyuni, was full, even though it didnt leave for 6hours. So i bought a ticket to another town where i would spend the night. The border town did not look like a place to stay.

I bravely attempted a burger across the street from the station. Bad idea, it was the worst food i had ever seen. Out the back of the cafe, near the toilets, a small baby craweld around on the ground by herself like a stray dog. Welcome to Bolivia.