I arrived back in Bs As yesterday at midday. Flying into Jorge Newberry airport, watching the tree lined suburban streets, boat marinas and soccer fields coming into view as we glided through our approach to the runway, it felt as if I was returning home. It is early autumn here. I had maté and pastries with Carina and Sergio in the afternoon and shared stories from the month long trip. It is nice to be back.

Tammy and I touched base by email because she had invited me to her Mother's May 3 birthday fiesta before I left. I had accepted the invitation thinking we would be back in Bs As by mid-April! I had no way of knowing I would return one day before the fiesta.

My return flight to Buenos Aires is tomorrow morning, so I have one full day in Salta and want to be productive. I called Katia and Ruben to see if we could get together for coffee at midday. They agreed. I called Helen to see if she wanted to have dinner. She agreed, and we set a time after she finished work tonight. I sent a text message to Juan, the lead singer with Los Huayra, and he not only agreed to meet, but invited me to his new ranch house on the outskirts of Salta for an afternoon snack. What a great day this is shaping up to be!

The 33 hour bus ride from La Paz to Salta turned out to be a bit of an adventure. I was taking the route right through the Andes to Potosí and on to Villazón on the Bolivian border with Argentina.

I was the only non-native person on the bus. With my fancy guitar case and camera, I couldn't have been more obvious. I made sure my single suitcase got loaded into the luggage hold and carried the guitar on board, stuffing it in the overhead rack. The bus was not even close to full, so I grabbed a window seat near the front in order to take photos as we ascended to El Alto on our way out of La Paz. 

When we stopped in El Alto, I saw a flood of people waiting to board the bus. I was asked to move further to the rear and did so, leaving my camera laying in the seat I had vacated. I never saw it again.

Last night, I had dinner with Jenny and Adriana at the hotel restaurant. Armando could not come, so our city tour fell by the wayside. Ironically, Armando, in a wonderfully thoughtful gesture, had stopped by the hotel in the late afternoon to leave a personal hand written message for me, and I bumped into him in the lobby. I assured him it was fine. I was perfectly happy with a quiet dinner, and Jenny and Adriana turned out to be excellent company.