I am pleased to report that we were not dispatched by murder hobos during the night at El Chiflón. In fact, we both slept like the dead, pardon the expression.

In the morning, we wandered over to the restaurant to partake of the “buffet”, which was similar to what you might find in smaller motels in the US as “continental breakfast “. I was surprised to find that the coffee was good, but not outstanding.

Because the El Chiflón is not a bed and breakfast, I wasn't going to include it my final thought analysis but because it is in the middle of nowhere and a likely stop for weary travelers, I will.

• Don’t let the initial impression of a Motor Inn turn you away. The rooms are clean, the food is decent, and they have wine. The wine that we tried wasn’t spectacular, but it was from the local bodegas in the La Rioja region, so we were happy that they supported local producers.

• The views of the surrounding desert were spectacular.

• The location is 100+ kilometers from any civilization so plan accordingly, especially with regards to gasoline.

• They have WiFi, but availability is intermittent and at times non-existent. There is no cellular coverage at all.

A note about spicy food in Argentina: I make these comparisons with what I have experienced with Mexican cuisine because I love spicy food. Since we have been here, we have not experience any spicy food. When I have asked for comida picante, they interpret that as adding bell pepper. When I asked Eleonora about this, she said that adding heat to a dish just is not a cultural norm in Argentina, as it is in Mexico. For example, I saw chorizo on the menu and had to order it, hoping for the Mexican chorizo from home. Mexican chorizo in the US and Mexico usually consists of ground pork or beef, with generous amounts of cayenne or other pepper powder to give it some kick. Chorizo in Argentina is simply a thick cut of beef, lightly seasoned with salt and pepper and no heat whatsoever. I’m not saying that spicy cuisine doesn’t exist somewhere in Argentina, we just haven’t encountered it in our week here so far.

A note about color in Argentina - Women wear simple, bland colors; white, black, or khaki. If they wear any color at all, it is the shoes. In contrast, Mexico has much more color: reds, oranges and blues. Regarding architecture and tile-work, the colors here also appeared to be more subdued that what we have seen in Mexican design. Here, houses are whitewashed or painted plain white, whereas structures in Mexico have much more color.

A note about pronunciation - The Argentine pronunciation of words with a Y or a double L is a “SH” sound, rather than a “Y” sound as it would be in Mexican Spanish. Therefore, you will hear:

The funny thing about this is that if you are a tourist and try to pronounce it the Argentine way, they will stop you and correct you. Evidently, the Argentine pronunciation is reserved for their use. I thought it odd at first, but this is not unusual. In the US, if you are a Missouri resident, you are allowed to pronounce it “miz-ur-uh”. If you are a visitor or tourist, you are not allowed to pronounce it that way and locals will correct you if you try.

We took an alternate route north through the national park because we were at a quarter tank of gas and there were no gasolineras (gas station) near El Chiflón. The next town with a gasolinera was Villa Unión, 131 km to the north.

A note about flora: If we didn’t know otherwise, we would swear that we were in Arizona because the desert landscape here looks just like home: cactus,creosote, and scotch broom, mostly. A couple of distinctions:

• The creosote here smells just like the creosote at home but it is a different species; the leaves looking like tiny maple leaves, compared with the oval leave variety common in the Sonoran desert.

• It was my understanding that saguaro cactus was native to the Sonoran desert. This is true, but only for the Carnegiea gigantea species. On our trip through central Argentina, once we reached the appropriate elevation, there were saguaro everywhere, but of species Echinopsis terscheckii. The only difference that I can see is that they aren’t as tall as Arizona's gigantea and their color is a darker green.

We made it to Villa Unión on fumes but had to wait in line for about 30 minutes at the YPF while a gas tanker refilled the station’s reservoirs.

Three hours into the trip north, we stopped in the busy city of Cochelita. We parked along the perimeter of a town square park and found a corner restaurant that featured pizza on a sandwich board out front. The pizza, described in the menu as Neopolitana, was dreadful. The dough appeared to be of the type that you would squeeze out of a can. Still, we were famished and accompanied by a very good bottle of room-temperature Torrontés, we crushed it.

A note about fauna - During our trip through the desert, we saw many signs warning us about wild animals that we might encounter on the road. In the US, normal sightings would involve coyotes, javelina, and the occasional deer, especially in the mountains to the north. In the La Rioja desert, we saw wild ostriches, llamas, horses, and even a dead bear. It might have been a calf but I couldn't tell from a distance. I wanted to stop and take a photo of it but Lorna made a “hell no” command decision.

Chañarmuyo Bodega y Huéspedes

Another hour of driving brought us to a sleepy residential area. At the end, seemingly out of character for everything else around it, was our destination, Chañarmuyo Bodega y Huéspedes.

The main house and guest accommodations were surrounded by vineyard and desert gardens. We met our host in reception and as expected, nobody spoke English. Still, we were able to check in and to make reservations for a desguatación (wine tasting) followed by dinner. Prior to that, the weather was perfect for sitting on the west-facing patio, sharing a bottle of the bodega’s Chardonnay, and watching the atardecer (sunset).

Prior to supper, one of the local hosts, Martín, whose family was from Ohio, led us through a desguatación of four of the bodega’s best wines. This was a challenge for us because despite having roots in the US, Martín spoke almost no English, besides basic greetings. As if anticipating a language gap, two of the bodegas’s worker bees, who also didn’t speak English, stood by with Google translate apps at the ready to help us through anything that we didn’t get from the description of the wines. We probably could have done without them because Lorna and I did the translation tag-team thing again, filling in gaps through context.

Dinner was wonderful, with blood sausage aperitifs and steaks grilled over a wood fire.

At this point in our trip, we had run out of clean clothes. We had made arrangements with our host upon arrival to have our dirties laundered the following morning, but what I didn’t get from that exchange was that she assumed that we would be at the bodega for more than a day. Therefore, we would have to wait until reaching our next stop in Cafayate to find a lavadora (washing machine).

This is Lorna's skeptical look regarding our host's explanation of the laundry situation.

Lesson learned: Find more opportunities to do laundry earlier on than waiting until there is nothing clean remaining.

Next up - Day 9: Chañarmuyo to Cafayate

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