I’m getting far too used to waiting around for hours. That’s probably a good thing as a vast portion of this trips travelling revolves around sitting in a bus terminal
waiting for your bus to arrive, and it’s a particular fact here in Argentina as
the most economical way to travel the distances is by catching an overnight
bus. Not only do you save money on not having to pay for a nights stay in a
hostel, you also get a decent meal too.

So after leaving the hostel in Mendoza I slowly made my way to the bus terminal. The terminal here is possibly the largest I’ve visited in South America, which
makes some sense considering Mendoza is not only a major transport hub but also a major tourist destination. There must be at least 30 bus companies operating out of this place. The Argentinians know that buses are the veins of the
countries travel, so it’s fitting that the terminals have surprisingly good
cafes and cheap meals. After an awesome milanesa de carne and a beer I hung
around for another couple of hours and finally boarded the bus.

After the last bus trip of the large snoring woman I kinda figured this would be a
quieter trip. Ah but  no, the ticket I bought had no one sitting next to me, but the seating numbers were awry and a man with an enormous beer gut and far too visible butt crack plopped himself down next to me. He immediately reclined the seat, throwing his weight into it to make sure it was as far back as possible, and went to sleep. And started snoring. Yay!

The city of Tucuman takes a turn for the awesome. The overall feel of European culture takes a backstage and at the forefront is a distinct Latin American feel. In
fact I couldn’t help but feel I was in Peru again; the colonial architecture is
here and the population has a large indigenous presence that I can only ascribe
to the fact they’re so close to Bolivia. You could probably argue this is a bad
thing, as it was here in Tucuman that child beggars make a come back, however
with a Chilean flair in that they’re clearly well off dressed in Adidas clothing yet still asking you for money. On in one instance I returned from the toilet to find a kid pocketing the tray of complimentary peanuts from my table!

Tucuman has some history behind it. This was the city where the Argentinian declaration of independence from Spain took place. The museum dedicated to this, in the house where the declaration was signed, includes a demonstration of the battle that took place against the Spanish forces; all in Castillo mind you, and I wasn’t even sure if I was supposed to be with the guided tour that I stumbled upon, I basically just followed them and nodded knowingly to the tour guide as she recited the history in Castillo.

In the Case de Cultura, a place I walked past on my first day and poked my head in after seeing a sign for an Archaeological museum, I found a delightful surprise.
After being told the Archaeological museum was closed on the weekends, the
receptionist pointed me inside towards a free exhibition of photographic work.
As I wandered through the gallery and listened to the chamber music playing, I
headed up stairs to discover the music wasn’t a recording – there was a 3 piece
band playing a selection of Mozart! With a small audience listening intently, I
joined them for an hour to listen to fine a Mozart recital and eventually left
the Casa de Cultura with a large satisfied smile on my face. The house of
culture indeed.

While Tucuman doesn’t have the same value Menu del Dia that Mendoza has, it still has some great cheap meals of fantastic quality. Even ordering an expensive meal of garlic chicken w/mash is half the price than in Patagonia. It seems here that the only tourists are those from Argentina, which may explain why they’re not trying to rip you off. I even had two different waiters shake my hand; they
were so obviously baffled that a foreigner was visiting their city that I was
questioned thoroughly about where I was from and where’d I been until they were called away to do their actual jobs!

I was really enjoying Tucuman. The return of a decent climate, the pleasant green main plaza, the enormous park that had yet another Day of the Kids going on (they clearly don’t understand what a day is when this has been going for a week now) and some cool people in the hostel, I ended up staying for 4 days before finally making the move to continue the journey northward.

Only a four hour ride north, the bus to Salta would have to be the shortest I’ve done in Argentina. And soon enough I was there, and the heat and blue skies of Salta reined gloriously down.