Limping north

Yep, on our wooden leg. We stayed a night at Cafayate, on the tourist trail but it failed to crank us up. I got a carpentry workshop to custom-make some cheap blocks of wood to jam the spring in our expensive Fox Racing Shox. Meanwhile, back at the camp, Em was stuffing the whole thing in our bags, ready for departure.

Not much to say. We limped up the ridiculously spectacular valley from Cafayate to Salta.

At one stage we were overtaken by a mob of blokes from New Zilland, travelling on bikes and in a hurry to stick to their schedule.

They seemed keen to spray us with their story when we stopped for a yarn, then they had to go. A couple of photo stops and a steak sandwich (A only!) later, and we bounced into Salta (whose name means "jump").

We moved into the dodgy-looking municipal campground, and dodged downpours for a week. I pulled the shock out and sent it for repairs, and we hung in town for the week. Not much to report, except that the dog on wheels team caught us up, and late in the week John and Marcia pulled in on another BMW bike. Cups of tea, museums , internet cafes and dark beer filled the week, but despite repeated attempts, the Salta council failed to fill the swimming pool!

Happy to report that all our awaited parcels - finally resupplying our wallets with bank cards, and replacing the last of the gear stolen all that time ago in Chile - arrived at Salta post office while we were there. And we got that shock absorber in again.