Salta the Beautiful

After a harrowing bus ride here, I knew the pressure was on for Salta to be a great place to visit. And it did not disappoint. First through a glimpse at the town as we pulled in, and second by the constant friendliness and warmth we were met with or witnessed.

In the far north west (literarily across the country from Iguazu) Salta makes up a small town with most of it's activity and sights happening in the main square, accessible by foot from almost anywhere in the city. Here, despite a heavy military presence, you feel completely at ease as you wander through the cobblestone streets, walking by the beautiful purple trees and preserved colonial architecture.

A strong religious sentiment also means at mass time in the evening you will notice bikers zoom by churches while quickly making the sign of the cross. And when Jo stumbled upon a man at his knees in front of Convento de San Bernardo (which can be viewed right outside our terrace) as she exited to take a photo of the building light up against the night, the reactions of passers by told us we were the only ones surprised at this sight.

Salta is also the place where a family hung out of the window of their truck and then pulled right off to a corner and stepped out because they could see us consulting our guide book as they drove past us, and out of simple kindness wanted to usher us in the right direction.

Salta is the place where we were regaled by stories from our lovely Bed and Breakfast host about how he used to serenade his wife outside her window and who when giving us day trip advice took two pesos out of his own wallet so we would have change for the bus.

As Jo and I sat listening to beautiful folk music at La Casona del Molino (An enormous restored Neocolonial mansion with different music in each room) which she had found and insisted we visit for a night cap on our first evening there, I felt this immense sense of awe for this place and then for the people who all seemed to host incredible talents as they rose one by one and joined someone at the front to dance, strum or drum, as everyone sang along, to the latest folk song.

When Jo looked over at me on that first night sitting at La Casona del Molino and said "I think Salta becomes me", I knew it would be hard for both of us to leave beautiful Salta.