to Salta

It was a long day traveling - off and into an Uber in Córdoba at 6.30 a.m., and arrived in Salta, in the north west, just about an hour before sunset.  Argentina is a huge country - but everything passes through Buenos Aires, unless one's driving, or taking (very) long-distance buses, so I'm feeling that I'm getting to know the airports - especially the Aeroparque - well.  Arriving into Salta was wonderful, with a backdrop of the high Andes, and then (after another Uber - a godsend here) a stunning hotel: my room is called La Escritora, and not just any old writer, but Juana Manuela Gorriti, a very radical nineteenth century writer who composed in a number of genres; lived in Peru and for a while was married to the president of Bolivia; and was very much a feminist, arguing for women to be integrated into intellectual, literary and political life; she wrote novels and short stories - oh, and she came from Salta, indeed.  Clearly this is the hotel room I've always been meant to have, with a bathroom decorated especially for me.

One thing I came here knowing something about, and want to learn more, are the ongoing protests against lithium mining in the region.

Here's the cathedral, by dusk

and by night;

here the rather stunning Basilica Menor y Convento San Francisco.

This was nearing the southern end, really, of the Spanish invasion (though obviously they pushed on south to Cordoba and beyond) so the streets have far more of a feel of a genuinely Latin American country, and things are more chaotic - many motor-bikes - it reminds me very faintly of Arequipa, in Peru.  More tomorrow!