Valle de Fertil

Argentina

June 2008
1 days

Another day another town.

After wrenching myself away from the numerous delights of Mendoza I travelled due north to a little town called Valle de Fertil in order to visit the two National Parks (Ischigualasto and Talampaya should anyone be interested) which lay nearby.

Unremarkable in almost all respects the town itself had a certain charm borne of its innocence and isolation. Redolent of 1950´s America the town produced vivid images of a time gone by as children rode casually down the barely there roads umimpeded by traffic or threathed by unwanted attention and the men and women folk gathered outside the corner shop to discuss the issues of the day with no rush, anxiety or complaint.

Of particular note was the local junior disco where the teenagers of the town - too old to play on the swings but too young to drink in the bar with dad - lived out a scene from many a childhood. In a small room with the chairs pushed to the sides and music emanating from within the girls and boys faced each other from opposite ends as though preparing for battle. Desperately waiting for someone to break the deadlock and move onto the dancefloor each group stood fast desperately trying to appear indifferent to those their eyes fell upon while their hearts, though they knew not why, felt anything but.

Alas, I think I have drifted slightly off track. And thus to the national parks - in summation: rocks. Lots and lots of rocks. Some big, some small, some round, some not round, some old, some older. Feeling akin to a tourist as never before my three companions for the day and I were sheperded in and out of numerous buses, told when and where to take photos, where to stand and more frequently where not to stand and then charged handsomely for the displeasure!

Not a bad day, just not a great one. Vamos a bailar methinks.

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