Remus "For those who look without seeing, Earth is earth just "A. Summary
Friday, April 30, 2010
Af Due Tomorrow White Cm And Cramps
Cafayate. Today I opened my "travel diary" and I realized that for almost a week since I wrote. And if the day that I have gone there every day in the backpack for a week did not write, here in the blog that I have much less to hand write less frequently.
Then I came to the conclusion that I will have to resign myself to stop writing what daily and I'm dedicating myself to leave here, documents to share with everyone, some situations, the things that stand out or have more desire to have.
today to start then I will go to transcribe a part of my "travel diary" (do not know why I put quotation marks ha!):
A bite of breaded sandwiches, a drink of beer and writing.
I'm in San Carlos, a village twenty miles from Cafayate, which came through chance.
This morning I went out for a few laps with Candi, those around me to take Route 68 to Cafayate Salta joining. This route runs through the "Quebrada of Shells. "It is a ravine in the style Canyon (very bad to take the Grand Canyon as a comparison, but unfortunately I met him before this stream of movies and stuff). Along the creek will be appreciated, as mentioned the map, "natural monuments" (today I am in full with the quotes). They are rock formations shaped like things. Some are really similar to the object that they are named and some not so, I believe, some do not look at anything, that does not mean that the scenery is incredible, much more to La Renga ringing in the headphones with the letters accompanying each image that appears.
Today I took it easy. I stopped at every place I wanted to stop. Breath, I saw (see title of note and photo attached), I enjoyed and photographed in the style Japanese tourist. I walked down those roads so tempting that appear lost to the sides of the road, stopped to talk to people, listen, I traveled.
I did not notice the time, but I have started camping in Cafayate at 11 am maomeno. The time now is 16:30 and I'm here, in San Carlos. In a gallery of type "colonial", off the town square and looking at a street that seems to end up in the hills of the fund. The street is dirt, a tractor and washes ashore on the chap going by bike driving with one hand because the other has a very elaborate cake looks like apple or pear or something.
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