What was I thinking...... Oh yeah.

Mendoza is the red wine centre of Argentina and a place where I again found myself on a bicycle. Although this time I had a different incentive than one seal, the vineyards were, I have to say a whole lot more of an effective motivator. Right next door to Mendoza is a town called Uspallata (apparently it resembles Tibet because this is where the movie was filmed), which was were I decided to set up base camp for some more Andes snow adventure. This time the adventure came in the form of ice climbing. After a hard day of climbing up a frozen waterfall I retreated to the pint sized town to have a pint, find myself a place to stay and a place to watch the rugby. After a hard search which came to nothing, I decided to follow a lead given me by a drunken local that I might be able to find what I was looking for about 8km out of town. In desperation I followed the lead and found myself checking into a hostel which seemed to also double as a barn. I introduced myself to the owner as Liam a kiwi in search of the Rugby. A reply came with a large Argentinean man hoisting up his sweater and presenting with pride an All Blacks Jersey underneath and the words "Bledisloe cup, manana noches (tomorrow night)" After watching the game (which I was so happy to see we won, especially as I may not have left the place alive had the alternative been faced), my travel compatriots and I decided it was time to scarper. We did however manage to miss our bus which had an interesting off set involving town exit via the back of a Ute. Packed in like sardines and hoping that a police stop wouldn't uncover the three of us (especially in the tight conditions which required man spooning), we headed off to find a town with a sizable bus station. Eventually we found our way back to Mendoza and the much needed bus station. I did, unfortunately leave minus one camera (if the syphilis ridden swine who stole it is seen please report him to me for testicle removal) and four hours of my life, which were spent in the local police station trying to tell the story of my camera theft via very broken Spanish. On the plus side, I had a blast in the police station and everyone was very friendly, especially the kind man who was affronted that someone should steal my camera, and so kindly offered to steal me a replacement in no time, hmmm not the most balanced of logic. I eventually managed to continued my way north and found myself in a town called Salta, which has been both the high and low of the trip thus far.
The low point involved waking up, sporting a rather large hangover and feeling a little naked. This was a curious feeling as I was still fully clothed. Stumbling over to the mirror I found to my horror, a cleanly shaven face staring back at me. Taking a moment to review my evening, I realised that whilst under the influences of both booze and the wily charms of a Belgian girl I made the worst decision of my trip thus far.... I shaved off the man rug.
Feeling naked, hungover and used, I managed to find my way into the hills around Salta for a well needed distraction from the horrendous loss I had suffered. There I managed to find the most staggeringly crazy landscape I have ever seen. I was also greatly consoled by the acceptance a local llama showed me and my newly forming stubble. On the plus, a new beard is already on the cards and in no time at all I am sure I will be at one again with the woolly llamas.