Crossing the border from Bolivia into Argentina, I expected a more dramatic difference right away. From one of the continents poorest countries to one of the most developed. Yet, the slightly shady border town of La Quiaca was barely different from it's northern neighbour. From there it was a beautiful bus ride along the side of multicoloured mountains, through charming little villages - we stopped in all of them. Bit-by-bit the landscape changes and the charm starts to increase. Rural buildings become quaint, not run-down; cafes look inviting, not decrepit; and even the bus vendors are selling tasty treats, rather than scary-looking fried montrosities.Once in Salta itself, a 7 hour ride, it really felt I'd left South America. The taxi ride to the hotel took us down boutique, cafe and tree lined streets, much more reminiscent of Europe. That said, with the exception of the cable car, the only significant thing I did in less then 24 hours in this town was very Argentinian. A fine, fine meal of steak and red wine in a local institution, La Monumental. My lord, the meat is good here. I couldn't eat it every meal, but it is damn tasty.
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