Mucho Gaucho

We're now in Salta, NW Argentina, in a part of the country that's known for being very traditional. You can see the Spanish colonial influence, but think more Mexico than Madrid. Lots of single story buildings in pastel colours, giant melons for sale on street corners, and a huge pink Cathedral overlooking the pretty tree lined plaza. It's the town where General Belgrano fought the Spanish for Argentinian independance, and after victory decreed that all the dead from both sides should be buried together as comrades in arms.
We had a day at a rural gaucho ranch, riding horses through lush green countryside, past free-roaming cows, horses and wild pigs. Clouds of butterflies would fly up as we passed through puddles and streams, and big grins all round when the horses were allowed to gallop. After the ride we sat for a traditional asado (Argentinian barbeque) outside by the corral, where various cuts of beef are succesively served in order of tenderness and taste. The beef here is amazing, not so great for Annie, but us boys aren't complaining. I ordered 'bife chorizo' the other night and got a huge two inch thick half-brick of the tastiest steak - and nothing else.
Steak, beer, afternoon naps - this is my kind of place!